PROLOGUE

> She was known among her people as 'Thistle'. Thistle, for its mixture of beautiful flowers and spiky thorns. It was a hard-won badge of honor and she wore it with pride.
> It wasn't her real name, though. Now, in this place, looking at this sight, she remembered her real name.
> Once, she had been the mayor of the town before her. Everyone had called her 'Mayor Mare', but she had left that identity behind her long ago. She'd changed.
> To her left and right were her new people, a sort of strange, furless, two-legged apes. That was wrong, though. They had four legs, but their forepaws were unsuitable for walking. They called them 'hands'.
> These hands allowed the people to manipulate objects with incredible accuracy, which could only be matched by the most skilled unicorns. They didn't have magic, nor writing, yet the dexterity of their 'fingers' allowed them to make useful tools and thrive in lands far less hospitable than Equestria.
> Before, in her old life, Thistle would have called them 'primitive' and uncultured, thought of them as nothing more than mindless brutes.
> She had come to learn otherwise. She'd learned some of their language and even taught a few of the people her own. She'd sat with them around the fire and listened to their stories and their songs. Even though they couldn't write, the people had a rich oral tradition which the elders passed on to the young ones.
> In a small way she was now part of that - their 'deep song', as they called it.
> Thistle had been immersed in their culture for so long that she had to work now to remember her own. How long had it been since she'd seen her old town? Would her once-neighbors and friends even recognize her now?
> She wore her mane short these days, less chance for it to fall in her eyes or get tangled in a bush. It was back to its original pink, further justifying her new name. Thistle, like the flowering plant.
> She'd chosen it to make a clean break from her past. A new name, for a new land, before she had found the way back to Equestria. It had been useless to dwell on what couldn't be.
> Her grip shifted around the thick, wooden spear she was holding in her wrist. All the people had these crude, stone-tipped weapons. She'd tried to explain metalworking to them, but the nomadic tribe hadn't yet come far enough to understand.
> That was okay. They survived without modern inventions just fine so far, and these new things could wait for their children to grasp what the parents could not.
> Thistle glanced to her side, where a young man was watching the town with a grim expression. She leaned the spear against her shoulder, pushed her wolf skin cloak out of the way and laid a hoof on his calf.
"Relax, Wind, it will go well, I promise."
> She saw his knuckles whiten around the shaft of his spear, but then the young warrior relaxed. He gave her a nod and went back to staring at the distant buildings. She could sense he was afraid of what he thought of as an unnatural place.
> All the people were wary of the town. They had never seen anything like it.
> Well, luckily they had her to guide them.
> She had come home. She'd come back a different mare than she left. What would the ponies think of her now? At least that much she would soon know.
> Her nose wiggled as she caught a scent of blood and death. The humans didn't have fur and so they had to wear clothes made from animal skins. That had revolted her at the start, but then came that first, harsh winter in the new land, and Thistle had been forced to reconsider.
> By now she was hardly ever bothered by the fact that she wore a skin of some dead creature. She didn't really need it, but it helped her fit in and made her one of the people. Just as the lines she'd drawn on her face in charcoal and ochre. She was thinking about piercing her ears to wear bits of bone like some of the other humans, but she hadn't decided yet.
> They hadn't gotten off to the best of starts, but with effort she had made it into their inner council. She was a valued and important member of their tribe.
> It had become her home.
> Her gaze strayed back to Wind, who looked increasingly impatient to be off. Beyond him was his mother, the clan's Chief. Thistle, with her unique skill for leadership and diplomacy had attached herself to their household. Or maybe it was 'tent-hold'?
> That had been the obvious choice. Her kind was still seen as animals to these nomads, so only with the protection of the Chief and her family was Thistle truly safe.
> Her new association meant she had to pitch in. Work was easy, especially for an earth pony such as her, but there were some distinctly unpleasant bits.
> Thistle had had to join the humans' hunts. They couldn't graze so meat was their best chance of survival, especially in the cold of their own world. The women went out each day to gather nuts and berries and roots, but the game which the men hunted down with their spears was an integral part of their diet.
> She'd had to learn how to hunt and how to kill. It went against her pony nature, but what had to be endured, had been endured. Thistle had also learned how to clean their prey and cook it. She'd had to get her hooves dirty with blood.
> All of it was unimportant now. Funny, she thought sometimes, how a pony could get used to almost anything. Besides, better some rabbit or a bird than her. Perhaps not now, but in the early days of her capture Thistle would have been eaten with no remorse if her usefulness as a meal outweighed her worth as a pack animal.
> She had carried her burdens, done her work, fitted in. She made herself useful and she curried favor. She'd done it all to stay alive and, more importantly, feel safe in the strange, new world wherein she had found herself.
> She had done a lot of unsavory things to feel safe again.
> Ever since that day when her life had changed so abruptly and so completely.
> Funny, she hardly ever thought of it lately. Not since she'd chosen a new name. That had been the point when she had let go of her past.
> Seeing Ponyville again was bringing up all kinds of old memories.
> How long ago had it been now?

> PART ONE: Prey

> Mayor Mare was out on a simple morning walk to stretch her legs and clear her head. The sky was still dark, despite summer being in full swing. She often went out for her daily trot at this hour, before the heat of the day pressed down too oppressively.
> Celestia loved summer, but sometimes her preference was a tad uncomfortable for other ponies, Mayor thought to herself. Summer was fine, in her opinion, but they could do with less heat and more rain.
> She was sweating even before the sun came up and already dreading another day in the stuffy and poorly-ventilated town hall. Perhaps she could postpone the repairs on that side street and instead get one of those new, magical air coolers?
> They were all the rage in Canterlot and with good reason.
> If she couldn't get the money, perhaps a petition to the Princess asking her - politely, of course - to ease up on the sun a little this year? If that failed, perhaps she could write to Cloudsdale and ask the Weather Chief to send some rain their way. Who was the Chief these days?
> A quick search of her memory yielded up a name: Fluffy Clouds. She- no, wait, it was a he. He'd visited Ponyville on official functions but Mayor didn't know him personally. That didn't matter. As one government official to another she could still ask for a favor.
> The Mayor was lost in her thoughts when she noticed dark forms pushing out of nearby bushes. At first she thought they were ponies and wondered who else was crazy enough to get up before dawn just for some exercise. She walked toward them to greet whoever it was. Perhaps she'd get a trotting partner.
> She realized something was wrong when the forms straightened up and balanced on their hind legs. Minotaurs? This many, in Ponyville?
> Mayor frowned a little to herself and adjusted her glasses, but of course she couldn't see more than indistinct blobs, not in this poor light.
"Excuse me? Can I help you?"
> The figures drew back in sudden alarm and spoke to each other in a tongue Mayor didn't recognize.
> She was about to repeat her question when the smell hit her and she nearly gagged. Unwashed bodies, sweat, curdled milk and all of it mixed with... manure?
> Her hooves took an involuntary step back at the unexpected stink. It wasn't manure. Or rather, it was, but not like she'd ever smelled before.
> Sudden fright gripped her heart and Mayor took another step back.
"Um, I'll just- If you'll excuse- EEK!"
> Without warning, without provocation, one of the figures took a step forward and hurled something at her. She'd been tensing up to flee, but the attack happened too quickly and thick strands of some kind of rope landed on her.
> She squealed in fright and tried to run, but her hoof got tangled in the mess and she tumbled to the ground.
> There had to be an edge to the- net! It was a net they tossed over her! Mayor Mare ran her hooves down the coarse strings, her panic making her whole body shake. She had to hurry. She had to-
> Something heavy landed on her and the stink of the unwashed body nearly overwhelmed her. Powerful claws grasped for her hooves and she kicked with all her might. The net impeded her movement, but she felt the solid impact and the pressure on her lessened for a moment.
> The creature bellowed and the roar of pain and rage made Mayor's spine turn to water. She failed to seize her chance to wiggle free and screamed in pure terror. She panicked and tried to land another kick, but the other monsters were already on top of her.
> One of them was pinning her hind legs down and the other was trying to grab her around the throat.
> She suddenly realized they meant to kill her and her struggles ceased as if somepony had hit her on the head with a brick. There was no way to fight them off. The net had entangled her soundly by now and two of the creatures were holding her down.
> Maybe if she didn't struggle they'd make it quick and painless.
> There was a trickle and quiet splashing as her bladder released without her conscious control.
> One of the things growled something and shifted away, but it still kept her legs pressed to the ground.
> "Hey! What's happening over there!"
> A pony voice!
> Sudden hope sprang up in Mayor Mare's heart. Help was on the way! The will to live suffused her entire body and she struggled to turn her head and look.
> Ironically, the net which was preventing her escape was also making it hard for the creatures to grab her head.
> They shouted in alarm and the one on top of her barked something which sounded like orders. Another of their members ran to the newcomer, already swinging its net around its head.
"No! Run! Get help! Run!"
> The moment of confusion was enough and the beast threw the tangle of ropes. The new pony - it was a pegasus mare - squealed and tried to bolt, but it was too late. By hesitating she had made the exact same mistake as Mayor Mare.
> Her legs got tangled up and she fell. Before she could recover the creature was on her.
"Nooo- oof!"
> She had started struggling again and the monsters simply smacked her head. Her vision swam and her glasses crunched at the blow. Mayor closed her eyes protectively to keep the glass shards out of them, but that meant she could no longer see.
> Powerful limbs gripped her forehooves and she tried with all her strength to tug them free. She twisted her whole body and tried to kick with her hind legs. She even tried to bite at their claws, anything to break their hold on her.
> She nearly succeeded, but the creatures were immensely strong and there were two of them. Running steps receded as another went to help with the other pony.
"Please! Sto-"
> Another hit landed right on her muzzle and Mayor groaned in pain as she bit her tongue.She tried to free her forelegs again, but they were expecting it by now and simply pressed them to the ground.
> The weight on them was immense and for a moment she was worried her bones would snap. She wouldn't be able to do anything, for herself or for the other mare, if she was injured.
> It was hard, but Mayor relaxed and stopped struggling. She was panting hard, nostrils flaring with each breath and sweat already trickling down her sides, but she made herself go limp.
> Her only, slim hope was that the creatures wouldn't kill her immediately. She'd caught glimpses of evil-looking spears in the pre-dawn light and a moment's rational thought told her they would have stabbed her by now if they wanted her dead.
> If she died, it would be all over. If they left her alive, she could escape later. It was her only chance. She opened her eyes and tried to focus on the blurs around her.
> They kept their hold of her hooves and one of them peeled away the net. She tensed, but the nearest brute raised up its claw and she relaxed once more. If she tried anything they would just beat her into unconsciousness.
> All she could do was wait as they tied all four hooves together. She remained perfectly still and hoped they wouldn't tie the knots too tightly. Maybe she could wiggle out of them.
"Why are you doing this?"
> Her words were unexpected and the creatures nearly cringed away. One of them shouted something at her and brandished a spear. The meaning was obvious: they didn't want her to talk.
> The net was pulled away, rolling her on her back, and something sharp pierced her skin. Mayor Mare grunted in pain and twisted to look.
> It was just her broken glasses, shattered and jagged. A trickle of blood ran down her side when she flopped away.
> She didn't get far because one of the brutes simply grabbed her ankles and hoisted her up. Despite the threat of their spears, Mayor couldn't keep quiet and squealed in alarm as the thing lifted her bodily up and laid her across its shoulder.
> They were simply going to carry her away!
"No, wait! Please-"
> This time the spear was thrust right at her face. She flinched and closed her eyes, but the stab never came. By the time she dared look again, the creature who had threatened her was on its way to the other group.
> She couldn't see clearly, but the sun was starting to peak over the horizon and a mess of colors resolved into a couple of the minotaur-things lifting up a pegasus mare.
> The one carrying her went over and Mayor tried to keep her head steady enough to see who it was.
> There was a bag, ripped open on the ground and a bunch of white squares spread around. One of the creatures was poking through it, but it didn't show a lot of interest and soon left it alone.
> A gray-coated mailpony. That meant either Muffins or Rainy Day. Mayor's heart constricted at the thought of either of those falling into these monsters' claws.
> She wanted to ask if the other pony was alright, but she didn't dare speak again. She could see those cruel, sharp spear heads in the morning sun. They didn't gleam like metal, but Mayor had no doubt they could easily pierce her. She didn't want to be stabbed by one of them, so she kept her muzzle shut.
> There was no way to prevent tears from leaking down her cheeks, though.
> The world swirled around as the creature wheeled on its two legs. Mayor Mare caught a glance of Ponyville, its multitude of colorful roofs just starting to catch the sunlight in the distance.
> She longed to be there. She wanted nothing more than to be among her people.
> There was a lurch and they began walking away from Ponyville and safety.
> All she could do was cry silently. By the time anypony found that mail bag this far in the woods, she'd be too far away.

> ~~~~

> The walk went on and on. Soon they passed from the familiar fringe of the Everfree forest and entered the slightly cooler and darker thick of it. The canopy above them made the world feel constricting and oppressive.
> For the most part Mayor Mare hung limply, slung across the creature's shoulders as she was. Her view rocked and swayed as the thing walked, easily balancing on its hind legs like a minotaur, or one of those bipedal dragons.
> She tried to catch a glimpse of the mailpony, but if she struggled too much to turn her head the ape-thing simply slapped her side. The best she could do was swivel her ears and try to catch any sound which would tell her that the other pony was still alive.
> Those noises brought her both relief and fresh pain. A few times the mail-mare spoke up, but her words were cut off by angry yells from the creatures and a dull thwack.
> Mayor hoped they weren't beating her on the head to keep her quiet, but there wasn't a whole lot she could do about it. The one time she tried to yell back to the other mare to keep quiet, she got a good smack herself.
> Mainly she heard whimpers or shallow, panting breathing. Her companion, whoever it was, hadn't been killed yet and all Mayor could do was hope that she would stay that way.
> Maybe once they reached whatever destination these people-
> Her face twisted with distaste, but there was no denying it. They had a language, they had spears and nets, and they walked with purpose. These were not animals, but people of some kind. A creature never before seen in Equestria, perhaps something from the dark heart of the Everfree forest. Perhaps something entirely new.
> Mayor glanced at the spear her captor held in its paw and gulped. It was incredibly sharp, but the edge was jagged and uneven. It was just a piece of flint, broken off so that it made a razor-like edge, and tied to a wooden shaft with some kind of thin, white rope.
> Primitive, but no less deadly for it. If anything, she imagined it would hurt even worse if they stabbed her with that.
> They also had flint knives with strange, off-white handles and what looked like wooden clubs. A few of the people had saddlebags, but they kept them slung over their shoulders. Of course, walking upright would make it impossible to carry their burdens on their backs.
> Mayor Mare had plenty of time to think and after a while her fear receded a little. If they had meant to kill her, they would have done it long ago. The creatures had put entirely too much effort in carrying the two ponies through the Everfree forest to simply murder them at the end of the march.
> At least so she could reassure herself.
> What could they want with them?
> Maybe they were doing something nefarious around Ponyville and Mayor Mare had simply stumbled upon them? If they couldn't afford to leave behind a witness it would explain why they brought her with them.
> If so, whatever their plot, the Elements of Harmony would unravel it and save them. It wouldn't be the first time.
> The thought gave Mayor some comfort and she decided to focus on staying alive. She'd cringe, and bow, and promise anything they wanted. She'd make herself compliant and useful.
> At the first opportunity she would escape, but if that never presented itself she'd wait for the Elements, or for Royal Guard, or the Princesses themselves. Somepony would come and save them.
> The people stopped suddenly and Mayor tensed up as the one carrying her shifted its grip on her legs. She was hoisted up and deposited unceremoniously on the hard ground. The landing drew a grunt from her, but this time they didn't mind her making noise.
> There was a squeal beside her and a thump as the other pony landed next to Mayor. She could finally get a good look at them.
> Rainy Day, the gray mail-mare.
> "Mayor! Mayor, you-"
> The nearest creature barked something at them and jerked its spear in their direction.
"Hush!"
> Luckily Rainy Day fell silent, but her eyes showed a lot of white at the sight of that spear and she crawled closer to Mayor. She was trembling and there was sweat pouring from her coat. She seemed fine otherwise, so Mayor Mare focused on the creatures again.
> They had walked a short distance away and were grunting and gargling their crude language, punctuating their argument with angry gestures of their limbs. They kept glancing back at the ponies, but otherwise weren't paying them much mind.
"Are you okay?" Mayor asked in as near a whisper as she could manage. "They don't want us talking, so be as quiet as you can."
> "I think my wing is broken!" Rainy Day whispered back.
> Mayor glanced at her side and saw that the limb was hanging at a weird angle. She understood the sweat and the shivering, the pegasus was probably in shock. Her muzzle was dripping with snot and tears.
> "Mayor, I need to get to a hospital. If we don't set it the bone won't heal right! I won't be able to fly!" She choked back a sob and the sound made the creatures fall silent and turn in their direction.
"Quiet."
> It was stern and not very comforting, but Mayor didn't want to push the beasts too far. She flicked her eyes between Rainy Day and the group until she heard them going back to their discussion.
"Okay. Sorry, just keep it down."
> The pegasus nodded and let out the breath she had been holding. "I need a doctor, Mayor! Please."
"I can't! I'm sorry. We'll try to escape tonight, if the Elements don't find us first!"
> "The Elements of Harmony? They're coming?"
> Sudden hope dawned in Rainy Day's eyes and Mayor didn't have the heart to crush it. She sighed and nodded.
"I hope so."
> The mail-mare closed her eyes and took deeper breaths. She didn't seem as panicked anymore. "Okay. I hope they come soon."
> It was possible, Mayor guessed, but very unlikely. Maybe by this time they had noticed them missing, or maybe even found the discarded mail bag, but it would be some time before anypony organized a search party.
> Would they figure out they'd been foalnapped and dragged into the Everfree forest? There might be tracks where they were attacked, but was anypony in Ponyville skilled at reading such things? Maybe one of the Apples, Mayor hoped.
> No, the best way would be to escape themselves, and with the news of Rainy Day's broken wings one of Mayor Mare's plans died. She'd hoped she could free them and then send the pegasus up in the sky to find the shortest way out of Everfree.
> In a worst-case scenario, she could fly back to Ponyville and bring help while Mayor Mare hid somewhere.
> Now it looked like they'd have to run the whole way. She just hoped Rainy Day wouldn't be too sick with pain. There was no way Mayor would leave one of her citizens behind.
> Her thoughts were cut short when the creatures returned. They were still jabbering away in their lingo, but they seemed more determined than before.
> A few of them with saddlebags took them off and passed them to others, then a couple bent down to pick up the ponies. Not the same ones as before, Mayor was sure.
> They probably needed some rest after carrying them all that way.
> She didn't resist being grabbed, but Rainy Day whinnied when they roughly nudged her injured wing out of the way. The creature reaching for her jerked away, then bunched up its paw and swung it at the pegasus.
> It connected with her muzzle and made her head snap back with the force of the blow. The mare cried out and took a breath to scream, but the brute lifted up its bunched paw in a very threatening gesture. It'd do it again if she wasn't quiet.
"Please, just be quiet!"
> Mayor Mare received a slap on her head herself, but at least it worked and Rainy Day clamped her mouth shut.
> Then the world whirled around as the thing settled her on its shoulders and turned. Mayor Mare lost sight of her pegasus friend, but she saw some of the creatures' faces.
> They were just so alien, with bare patches of skin above their scruffy beards and that strange, almost completely vertical muzzle. Their eyes were small and the whole thing seemed dominated by the weirdly-shaped nose.
> Still, Mayor thought she saw fear in there. They looked afraid of her, which made no sense. She was completely in their power.
> She filed that fact away to think about later and focused on her breathing. This new creature held her differently and its shoulder was digging into her ribs. It took more effort to draw breath.
> Hopefully they'd reach their destination soon, or it would shift its grip, because Mayor didn't think she could take this position for very long. Already her breath was labored and she was starting to sweat from the combination of the heat and the effort.

> ~~~~

> The sun was just starting to peek above the trees on its way across the sky when the band of people stopped again. The hunters, Mayor had begun calling them in her mind after she'd thought a little on their spears and nets.
> She was, once again, dumped unceremoniously on a patch of dirt and shortly after Rainy Day landed beside her with a grunt of pain. The poor mare just slumped, breathing in short, ragged pants. Her face dripped with sweat, and she seemed to have trouble focusing.
"Stay with me!" Mayor ordered.
> It was probably shock, or some reaction to it, Mayor Mare thought, but she didn't really know much about this stuff. Medicine had never been an interest. What she did know, however, was that Rainy Day needed a doctor pretty badly.
> Even forgetting about setting her wing to allow it to heal properly, there were all kinds of complications which could occur from a broken bone. Not to mention that this was no ordinary bone, but a pegasus wing bone, which was extra complicated.
> Rainy Day focused on Mayor for a moment, but then her head lolled back and she closed her eyes. She would have to do something.
> They weren't tied up, but a couple of the hunters were squatting near them and watching them warily with their cruel spears in their claws. Mayor very carefully got to her hooves. She didn't trust these brutes even a tiny bit, but she had to work with them.
"Can you understand me?"
> At the sound of her voice they tensed up and looked at one another, but at least this time they didn't immediately threaten her with a spear. They spoke briefly to each other, then one of them extended its claw toward Mayor.
> It mumbled some words to her, but she couldn't understand any of them.
"What? I'm sorry, I don't understand what 'yari' means!"
> "Yari!" The shorter of the two hunters repeated, growing visibly excited. He - she decided it looked like a male - sprang up to his hind legs and took a step closer. He babbled some more at her and Mayor Mare tried hard to pick out at least a few more words. She didn't know what they meant, but appearing to speak their language might make the things less likely to simply butcher her and Rainy Day.
"Yes! Okay. Yari morrey or whatever. Morrey. We need some help, understand?"
> She thought the hunter was young and perhaps that meant less mean. She saw that some of the others were grinning, almost derisively at his attempts at communication.
> He repeated the words more slowly and she did her best to emulate him.
"Mori. I'm sorry, I don't know what it means!"
> The hunter kept repeating those two words and she did her best to match his pronunciation. The closer she got, the more excited he was and kept waving and jabbering at his fellows.
> A few seemed to be slightly interested, but they were pretty winded and preferred to save their energy.
> She could smell their sweat, and the way they panted told her this forced march had been hard on them.
> Beside her Rainy Day groaned again and reminded Mayor of her task.
"I need some help. I need a branch and some rope. Can you give me rope? Rope!"
> She felt silly, of course they wouldn't know the word, but she saw an end of it dangling from the young hunter's bag. She took a tentative step forward and he tensed up and redoubled his grip on his spear. His knuckles whitened and Mayor stopped.
"Look - yari mori or whatever, I just need to show you, okay?"
> Another careful step brought her within hoof's reach. The hunter was still pretty tense, but he hadn't actually threatened her yet. She reached up her hoof with excruciating slowness until she was touching the end of the rope.
> Luckily the creature stood perfectly still, only tracking her with his eyes.
"This. Rope! I need this!" she said and hooked her ankle around the string.
> She gave it the most careful of tugs, but one of the other hunters suddenly spoke up and she froze.
> Once again she caught the two words she already knew, and she thought she made out another. "Ols," the older hunter had said. Maybe it meant rope?
> The whole pack laughed at his words and the young hunter stepped away and lowered his spear. Mayor Mare's ears fell and she took an involuntary step back.
"Please, I need that. Ols. Does that mean rope? Please let it mean rope!"
> She felt a moment of elation when the hunter grabbed the rope with his claw and pulled more of it out of his bag. "Ols?" he repeated. She didn't catch most of what followed, but she caught 'mori' and 'uyakh'.
> 'Ols' had to mean rope, she was certain of it! She went back to Rainy Day and lowered her head near her ear.
"I'm sorry about this, but I have to make them understand!"
> The pegasus whimpered when she gingerly lifted her wing.
"See? It's broken! I need the rope - ols - to tie it up! Please?"
> It was working! The young hunter had pulled the entire length out of his bag and held it in the air before himself.
"Yes! Please!"
> She stepped closer and he dropped the rope down on the ground between them. Mayor was only too happy to grab it and take it back to Rainy Day. All she needed now was a stiff branch.
> There was a hazelnut bush very near and she made a careful step toward that.
> Immediately some of the hunters jabbered and the youth who'd given her the rope hurried to block her path. His spear was aimed directly at her face and Mayor stopped.
"Come on, I'm so close! You have to understand I need a branch for a broken limb?!"
> She flattened her ears and crouched slightly. Her tail was already as far between her hind legs as it would go. Surely they'd understand submission?
"Please?"
> It took long seconds before the hunter relaxed and Mayor made another tentative step. He kept pace with her, seemingly ready to jab her at the first sudden move. Mayor sighed to herself and walked very slowly.
> Luckily it wasn't far. She reached the bush and quickly spotted a good, thick branch. She looked back at the hunter.
"I need to break it off, okay? I'm not running away and I'm not making a weapon, please understand that!"
> Maybe her voice was pleading enough to translate across their cultures, but the young hunter relaxed a little and the point of his spear lifted up, at least part way. This was enough of a sign that she could proceed.
> Mayor grabbed the branch she'd chosen in her teeth and bent it down. She pushed it further with her leg, then brought her other foreleg against it. Her hooves were hard enough and, combined with her earth pony strength, sharp enough to snap the branch off near its base.
> She dragged it back to Rainy Day to prove to the hunters she wasn't trying to escape.
> By now, all of them were standing and watching her with curiosity.
> It made her feel self-conscious, but she pushed past it and went to work stripping the leaves and smaller branches. The former she simply ate and the latter she spat out.
> Another clean break gave her a usable length of pretty straight and quite sturdy branch.
> The next bit was going to be difficult and she was already wincing as she thought about it. She didn't know exactly what she was doing, but even the general idea sounded very unpleasant for the poor pegasus.
> She nuzzled her and pushed a bit of discarded wood in her muzzle.
"Here, bite down on this. I gotta straighten your wing and tie it to the crutch. I'm sorry, but it's going to hurt!"
> There was no time to be squeamish. Mayor didn't even know if Rainy Day had heard, but the pegasus took the wood in her mouth and held it there. Her ears went completely flat and she tensed up her muscles.
> She understood and didn't object, which gave Mayor a bit of confidence that she was doing the right thing.
> For a few moments she wondered how to grab Rainy Day's wing, then sighed and took hold the furthest wing-finger with her teeth. She tried to be as gentle as possible, but she needed to straighten it out and that required a firm hold.
> Taking it slow would only prolong the suffering, so Mayor pulled the wing out quickly, doing her best to ignore her citizen's pained moan. She tugged to make sure it was fully outstretched then pressed it to the ground with her hind leg. It had to stay in place and she needed both hooves and mouth to tie the branch.
> The limb jerked under her grasp as the poor pegasus began to thrash.
"Not much longer! Stay still, please!"
> It helped and Rainy Day stopped moving, though she was crying loudly by now. Her voice was only slightly muffled by the wood she was gripping in her teeth.
"I'm sorry!"
> There was nothing but to proceed. Mayor laid the branch on top of the bone - humerus, it was called if she remembered her equine biology back in college. She thought it looked straight, but there was no real way to tell for sure.
> It was awkward to have to keep gentle pressure on Rainy Day's wing with her hind leg while she worked the rope with her forehooves, but somehow Mayor got the stick wrapped. The rope cut through the feathers and looked pretty uncomfortable, but it was the best she could do.
> Once she'd tied a simple knot she caught the wing in her mouth again. She had to fold it back, but Rainy Day was keeping it extended even while she whimpered and groaned.
"Fold it!" Mayor commanded.
> The pegasus shuddered, but she allowed her limb to be pushed back against her barrel. It didn't fold right, not with that piece of wood against it, but it was pretty close, Mayor thought.
"Hold it there, please. It's almost over!"
> Rainy Day nodded and her entire body was trembling with the effort while Mayor lifted her up and passed both ends of the rope around her barrel.
> She worked as fast as she could now and wrapped all the rope around her friend to press the wing and the branch as tightly against her as she could. It might make it harder to breathe, but it was important to keep the bone from moving.
> Soon she tightened the last knot and slumped down on her haunches. Both she and Rainy Day were soaked in sweat and shivering.
"There. I- I'm sorry. I think it'll hold. I don't know what else to do."
> The mare lifted up her head and shook her sodden mane out of her face. "It's al- alright. Thanks. Burn Celestia, but it hurts!"
"Nothing we can do about it. It should stop soon."
> That last was pure guesswork, but it was the best she could do.
> She suddenly remembered their audience and their predicament. Some of the creatures were gone and the others were hefting their bags once more.
> Mayor tried to guess which one of them would carry her next, but several of them walked up with more rope in their claws.
"That's fine, we don't need any more. Um, no ols. No ols. No more."
> She shook her head and held up her hoof to try and get the message across, but the hunters just ignored her and reached out.
> For a moment she thought about bucking them and making a run, but she was surrounded on all sides and she knew they wouldn't miss with their spears if they wanted to take her down.
> Rough claws grasped her mane and Mayor shut her eyes even as her nostrils flared with sudden panting. She had to work to contain her panic, especially as one of the hunters wrapped the piece of rope around her neck.
> They tightened it, but not so much to cut off her breathing. One of them - their leader maybe, jabbered some orders and she caught 'ols' and 'mori'. Maybe that meant to tie her down with the rope?
> It was what they were doing. The rope tensed and Mayor danced a few steps to keep it from choking her. She opened her eyes and saw that Rainy Day was being treated the same.
> They tied both of them on the same rope, around their necks, and the other end went to the young hunter who had helped her.
> He gave the string a tug and both ponies were forced to stumble forward.
> Some of the other creatures laughed and one of them patted the young hunter's shoulder. He said something back to them, then looked at the ponies and his face relaxed. He seemed happy to be in charge of their prisoners and out of the whole bunch Mayor trusted him slightly more than the others.
> He had taught her a word and given her the rope, after all. She followed easily when he began to walk and Rainy Day did the same. They didn't have a lot of choice, anyway.
> In her mind, Mayor Mare named the youngling 'Willow'.

> ~~~~

> Now that there had been time for the fear and adrenaline to recede somewhat, the trek became little more than drudgery. Mayor was aware they were dragging them deeper into the Everfree forest, but with the constant shade it was hard to tell in which direction they were travelling.
> She wondered how these creatures could have remained hidden in there. She had never heard of anything like them. Upright, mostly hairless, with dexterous claws and small, forward-facing eyes. Predator eyes.
> Now that she wasn't being carried like a sack she could watch these strange people. Every little bit of information might help her escape.
> Willow was the youngest one among them, by far, if she could believe her intuition. The other ones bore a number of scars on their limbs and she thought a few of them were missing fingers. One of them had lost part of an ear.
> They were mostly naked, with only a light fuzz covering their chests, legs and arms. They had manes and most of the creatures had beards, but both looked unkempt and dirty.
> The thing that frightened her the most was the fact that they were wearing animal skins around their midriff. It confirmed that they weren't squeamish about killing other creatures.
> Here and there, when one of them spoke, Mayor thought she saw canines, which could mean they were meat eaters and further reinforced her 'predators' hypothesis. That didn't bode well for her and Rainy Day.
> Perhaps the reason they hadn't killed them yet was that it was easier for meat to walk itself to wherever they were going. Probably a town or village. Maybe this was a hunting trip.
> Those spears certainly said so, and the attackers had been well prepared to catch ponies with their nets and brute strength.
> They were obviously smart, even if Mayor Mare couldn't understand their language. They moved and worked with intent and they made and used tools. How was it possible for an entire species to have gone undetected?
> Everfree was large and mysterious, but not *that* large.
> There was a tug on the rope around her neck and Mayor realized she had slowed down. Willow looked back and yanked her forward again.
> He might have been the youngest in the group, but he had a spear just as sharp as the others and Mayor had no doubt he would be capable of killing her if he wanted.
> Maybe there was a touch of softness in his face, but the way he looked at his elders made Mayor think he was trying to prove himself to them. Maybe it was his first hunting trip.
> With luck, if they stopped for the night, she could work on his youth and get him to let them go. It'd be hard without the language, but she would do anything to escape! She filed this plan along with the others.
> The hunting party came to a clearing in the forest and stopped. The people milled about and jabbered in their language, but Mayor could hardly catch a word here and there.
> She thought she made out 'neelt' and 'ger', but they didn't mean anything to her. She kept her ears and eyes open anyway.
> Something odd caught her eye. There was a large rock in the middle of the clearing and it looked really strange. She couldn't put her hoof on it, but the shape seemed wrong.
> There was a fallen, moss-covered log right next to it.
> It was hard to see because there was a shimmer in the air, such as she'd sometimes seen above distant roads on extremely hot days.
> Maybe some kind of a natural hot spring or something? There didn't seem to be any steam. It could also just be her bad eyes combined with exhaustion.
> Mayor slowly pulled back as far as the rope would allow before she put tension in it. This brought her close to Rainy Day, who was breathing hard and looking at the ground. The mare's head was hanging down and she seemed completely defeated.
"Hey, you okay? I'm sure they'll give us water soon..."
> An ear turned her way, but Rainy Day didn't look up.
"I need your help. Look that way - that rock. Does it look okay to you?"
> At this the mare looked up and her breath caught. "It's sheared right through!"
"Huh?"
> "Like somepony cut it vertically. The side facing us is perfectly smooth!"
"What does it mean?"
> Rainy Day managed a shrug. "Dunno. I've never seen anything like it. Maybe a lightning strike?" A moment later she shook her head. "Where is the rest of the rock then?"
> Mayor didn't know what to think of it, not yet. Maybe she'd understand in time. She risked pulling on the rope a little and gave her friend a quick nuzzle.
"We'll get out of this. Rest up, I dunno how much further they'll take us today."
> The other mare gave her a nod and let her head fall once more. Sweat dripped from her chin to the ground, proof of just how tired she was.
> Mayor felt fine so far and she wondered if she could explain to her captors that she wanted to carry her friend on her back for a while.
"Can you go on? I'll carry you..."
> Rainy Day shook her head. "I'm fine. Just let me breathe for a bit."
"Okay, but tell me if you..."
> "Thanks. I will."
"Maybe it's not much long-"
> Her word was cut off by a sharp tug in the rope. When she looked back Mayor saw that the people were moving on and Willow was pulling them along. There wasn't a lot she could do, but Mayor looked back and considered running.
> Most of the creatures were already well into the clearing and Willow was the nearest one to them. If she gave a strong tug she could probably yank the rope out of his claws.
> Her gaze went to Rainy Day, who despite their respite was still breathing hard. She didn't look in a good shape for a gallop.
> Would she leave her behind after all?
> Mayor's ears flattened at the thought. It would reduce the number of captive ponies, but she'd be leaving Rainy Day to an unknown, potentially gruesome fate. By the time she found her way out of Everfree all trace of these creatures might be gone.
> Besides, there was no certainty she'd get out anyway. They were very deep in the woods and even if she lost these hunters, there were other dangerous creatures in the forest.
> The rope went taught again and Mayor had to shift a hoof to keep her balance. That broke her indecision and she heaved a forlorn sigh as she followed the young hunter. A moment later Rainy Day fell in step behind her.
> Perhaps it had been an opportunity, but it would certainly result in a chase, something Rainy Day wasn't up to.
> There would be other chances, Mayor told herself. The creatures would grow complacent and she'd escape. Maybe tonight, when they slept. Without pursuit she and Rainy Day could make it, she was sure of it!
> For the moment, however, she followed Willow to the middle of the clearing and watched the rock. They were soon close enough for her to see that Rainy Day was right. The rock was cleanly split in two and the side facing her was smooth and vertical.
> It might indicate some kind of stonework, but why only this side?
> Something else was strange in that place and Mayor only noticed when she nearly stumbled. There was a crack on the ground, as if the earth itself had split and sheared.
> She had to step up as she walked.
> Strangely, the split in the ground went from the broken rock, past the fallen log and toward the trees at the edge of the clearing in a straight line, or as straight as she could estimate.
> Perhaps more importantly, the forest ahead of them seemed to be thinning. Surely they hadn't travelled clean through the Everfree this quickly, had they?
> Another strange detail caught her eye. The moss-ridden trunk on the ground had been cut diagonally! It was old, so the line was jagged, but something told Mayor that the break had been just as smooth as the rock.
> She looked around to try and find where the log had come from and saw a lopsided tree which might have had a split in its trunk at some point.
> Strangely, it too would have lined up with the crack in the ground.
> It had to mean something, all of it put together. There was a line where things got sheared in half and the hunters were dragging it right into the middle of it.
> For an instant Mayor's blood froze in terror and her hoofstep faltered. Was this some weird, wild magic which cut things in half? Were they going to use it to make butchering the ponies easier?!
> She very nearly panicked and pulled back, but Rainy Day was already passing her and Willow was yanking on the rope again. She was standing in the middle of the line anyway, so Mayor nearly jumped forward to get away from that place.
> Her breath came in short pants and her friend lifted up her head to look at her in concern. "You okay?"
"Y-Yeah... it's just- never mind. I thought-"
> "What?"
> They couldn't say anything more because Willow yelled something and gave the rope a strong pull. Mayor stumbled and nearly fell flat on her muzzle, but the yank got her moving again.
"It's nothing. We're past it anyway."
> She forced herself to take a long, deep breath, then felt her ears fold down flat without her conscious control.
"Did it just get cold?!"
> "Yeah, but remember were we are..."
> That made sense. Everypony knew there was a lot of dangerous, wild magic in Everfree. A section of it that was chilly when the whole of Equestria was burning up? That wouldn't be out of place here.
> Mayor Mare chuckled to herself at her sudden thought that she should move her office here during the summer. Nervous laughter, she realized. Her mind was seizing onto anything to distract her from her fear of magical butchery.
> She looked back at the rock, the log and the tree, but Willow gave her rope another pull and she hurried to catch up. At least walking was a bit easier in the cool air. She hoped it would last for a while before they came back to the sweltering heat.

> ~~~~

> Another hour passed in nothing but mindlessly walking after the pack of those strange bipedal creatures. It was still cold and Mayor Mare thought it was getting chillier.
> Surely that wasn't right? An uneasy feeling was taking hold over her and she kept glancing back.
> They had been travelling for most of the day, but surely they shouldn't have come all the way through the Everfree yet?
> The forest was mostly gone, with only the occasional tree they passed, and the horizon looked pretty empty. There were distant mountains, but everything else seemed quite flat.
> This wasn't terrain Mayor recognized and she was getting scared. She wasn't the best navigator, but even if they did come all the way through the forest, they should be seeing the plains of Appleloosa, right?
> Were those mountains in the distance Macintosh Hills? Moreover, it was far too cold for the middle of summer!
> There was no real choice but to keep walking, but her legs were beginning to tremble as she took each hoofstep. More than once Mayor thought about voicing her concerns and maybe get some reassurance from Rainy Day.
> Pegasi were good navigators and she would undoubtedly spot some landmark which would tell them where they were. But the other mare seemed lost in her own, tiny, dismal world. Every now and then she whimpered, or hissed if she jolted her injured wing.
> She kept her head down and her gaze on the ground before her. More than once Mayor had to tug the rope to keep Rainy Day moving.
> No, she couldn't dump any more on the poor mare, especially if her vague, unspecified dread turned out to be warranted.
> Up ahead the hunters were spreading out a little and Mayor wondered if they were coming near their destination. Where in Tartarus could they be living?
> Surely if they weren't in the thick of Everfree they would be known to Equestria? Surely they didn't walk in all the way from the Badlands, or further?
> Maybe they have? That would mean they'd have to return through heavily pony-populated lands, which would mean help or opportunities to escape. She could deal with why nopony knew of these creatures after she was back, safe in Ponyville.
> Mayor looked around once again, trying to see something familiar. They were moving almost directly west and the setting sun was limiting her vision, even where her poor eyesight wasn't.
> Her step faltered and Willow nearly fell as the rope grew taut. He turned around with an angry growl and tugged, but Mayor was staring.
> It couldn't be sunset yet! The whole day was fuzzy in her memory, but surely not more than about six hours had passed?
> Her internal clock said it would be about lunch time, which was proven by the distinctive emptiness in her stomach.
> The young hunter pulled on the rope again, but she had dug in her hooves and wasn't moving. It was just too much and she was overwhelmed.
> It was too cold, it was too late in the day, the land was all wrong and the creatures who had foalnapped her hadn't been seen in Equestria before.
> Maybe, Mayor Mare thought, it was all just a weird nightmare.
> She squeezed her eyes shut and tried to will herself awake.
> "What are you doing? Come on, we have to keep moving," Rainy Day said as she stopped next to her.
> There were more shouts from up ahead and Mayor could hear the hunters coming back, no doubt to see what all the commotion was.
> "Come on, Mayor. They look pretty angry!"
"It's all wrong!" she whimpered.
> Mayor wanted nothing more than to curl up in a ball and put her hooves over her head and pretend none of this was happening until it became true.
> There was a gasp by her side and Mayor opened her eyes. Rainy Day was sitting on her haunches and staring, wide-eyed at the sky. She looked pale and her muzzle was hanging open.
> Before Mayor could follow her friend's gaze, Willow gave a mighty pull on the rope and she lost her balance. She toppled over and smacked her muzzle in the dirt.
> Maybe that broke her stupor, or maybe the sudden pain reminded her she wanted to live. She got to her hooves and took a step, which forestalled another mighty pull. The other hunters gathered around Willow and were muttering something to him.
"Come on. Let's go on."
> Rainy Day shook her head as if to clear it of bad thoughts, then stood up. When she looked at Mayor her eyes were nearly all white. Then she looked around.
> "Mayor? I don't think we're in Equestria anymore."
"What?! What are you saying?"
> She jerked her head up. "Look at the stars."
> Mayor did so, but while she could imagine that a few of the glittering jewels were becoming visible, she couldn't see more than a deep blue blur without her glasses.
"I can't. My glasses..."
> Before Rainy Day could answer there was another tug on the rope around Mayor's neck and she began walking. Her friend fell in step beside her and went back to looking at the ground.
"What did you see?!"
> Rainy Day drew in a long sigh and then let it out. It made her shiver, and not just from the deepening cold. Mayor was about to ask again, but Rainy Day spoke up: "That's not our sky. Mayor, I don't know how far we would have to go so I wouldn't recognize any of the constellations, but we're there."
> Surely they hadn't walked far enough for that?!
> Then she remembered.
"The place in the woods! The- the shear! That rock, remember? As if it was cut in half!"
> Rainy Day looked up and blinked. "Do you think-" she began, but didn't have the proper words to express the sudden, scary thought.
"I'm afraid you're right. This isn't Equestria. That must have been some kind of a portal. Maybe it took us all the way to the other side of the world!"
> Mayor looked up to Willow, who was walking backward to make sure they were following. The others had gone ahead once more, but a few lingered nearby in case she would give them further trouble.
"None of them have horns. If it was magic, it didn't come from them. Maybe it's something natural in Everfree."
> "Why does it matter?" Rainy Day asked.
"If it's something natural, then we can find our way back!"
> "Oh. You're right."
"We just have to get away from them. Do what they say. We'll try and escape tonight when they're sleeping. I think I remember the way back."
> All her looking around and behind them would pay off. Mayor Mare was fairly certain she could find their way back to the woods. All they had to do was sneak away while the hunters slept.
> This new discovery also explained why nopony had heard of these creatures. Maybe they lived somewhere in the Frozen North, judging from the chill? In any case, the portal was probably their only way back.
> More importantly, the chance of rescue by the Elements was now very remote. They'd have to get themselves out.

> ~~~~

> It was late in the night and Mayor was beginning to flag. Her legs felt like they were made of lead and for the past half-hour she had let her head hang, not much interested in her surroundings.
> Her mouth was as dry as Saddle Arabia and her tongue felt like sandpaper. She feared if her captors didn't give her some water soon she would collapse.
> There was a tug of tension on the rope around her neck, but it wasn't coming from Willow. Mayor Mare looked behind and slowed her steps to wait for Rainy Day.
> The other pony was standing still and looked about ready to fall over. How much further were these creatures going to drag them? A quick glance ahead showed Mayor that her captors hadn't noticed that she'd stopped.
> There was still a bit of slack in the rope, but pretty soon Willow was going to yank on that damned thing again. Already her neck was chafed and the loop of string felt like it was cutting off her breathing.
"Come... on," she gasped to Rainy Day. "Just a little further."
> The pegasus shook her head, but didn't want to spare any air for answering. She stood on trembling legs, her nose very nearly resting on the ground. Her breathing was labored and droplets of foam were dripping from her open mouth as she panted.
"Come on, just a few more steps and then we'll be on the top of the hill. It's nice and downward from here on."
> This time there was no response.
> Mayor felt a tug at the rope and she glanced back up to see Willow looking back at them. He jerked on his end of the string as she watched, a wordless command to follow.
"Please?"
> She wasn't going to leave her friend behind. A few hours ago she would have offered to carry the other mare, but that was no longer a possibility. Mayor wasn't entirely confident her legs could hold her own weight, let alone that of Rainy Day.
> There was only one thing she could do, however detestable. She grabbed a bit of rope in her teeth and pulled. The sudden jerk made Rainy Day stumble and look up in surprise.
"I won't ask you again! Keep moving!"
> It was too dark to see faces, but Mayor didn't need light to perceive the hurt in Rainy Day's eyes. It went straight to her heart, but she didn't have any choice.
> She had thought she was completely numb, but there were still a few fresh tears which ran down her cheeks like twin lines of fire.
"Move it!"
> Her voice was harsher than she had expected, but it did the trick. Rainy Day lowered her head again and took a tentative step, followed by another.
> Shortly she was caught up, but didn't look at Mayor Mare.
> The important thing was that she was moving and Mayor fell in step with her. That placated Willow and he turned back to look over the hilltop. At least he wasn't immediately moving away, Mayor found a bit of gratitude in her heart for that.
> She hadn't understood any more of their captors' language, but she thought he had been telling the others to slow down through the afternoon. Without that, perhaps, the ponies would have proven too much of a burden to the older hunters and who knew what they would have done.
> A few more laborious steps took them to the top of the hill and Mayor glanced over the crest at whatever Willow was looking at. She stumbled and nearly fell before she caught herself.
> There were lights. Campfires, so many of them!
> She could see blurry shapes around the flames and it took only a few seconds to make sense of the scene. It was a large camp of the same creatures that had captured them.
> "It's their nest," Rainy Day said dejectedly. "We're never getting out of there..."
"We'll find a way," Mayor replied, even though she couldn't drum up a lot of conviction for her words.
> "Yavak!" Willow barked in what sounded like a command, which he accompanied by a slap across her rump with the rope. The meaning was pretty clear. He wanted them to keep moving.
> Mayor took a deep breath and started walking again. At least she hadn't lied to Rainy Day when she said it would all be downhill.
"Looks like about a mile."
> "Mile and a half," the pegasus corrected. Of course, she had better eyesight and an innate ability to gauge distance.
"We can do it. Then we'll rest."
> Rainy Day snorted and swished her tail, but she didn't voice her thought. Instead the pegasus let her head hang again and began walking. Maybe the end being in sight gave her her second wind. Or third wind.
> Whichever wind it was by that point, Mayor steeled her resolve and followed her friend. A moment later the hunter began moving as well and quickly overtook them. He apparently wanted to be up in front.
> Mayor began to whisper a prayer to Celestia they weren't walking the last stretch to their own cook pots.

> ~~~~

> There was a lot of commotion in the camp when the ponies arrived, mostly from the children who came to point and jabber in their strange language. Many small claws grabbed for Mayor's mane, but Willow slapped them away and led them deeper into the camp.
> It was a small mercy after foalnapping them and dragging them to another world like animals, but Mayor was nevertheless grateful for it.
> Many of the adults also stared, but they seemed to control themselves a little better. A few mothers gathered their children close, or pushed them into a tent.
> Mayor had almost no energy left for curiosity, but she forced herself to look. If they were going to escape, she'd need every detail.
> The people lived in tents made of some thick, brown fabric, held upright by gleaming white wood. It had been polished pretty smooth, but Mayor Mare didn't get more than quick glimpses through tent flaps.
> The whole place stank, that was the most powerful impression. She could identify the same pervading milk and sweat stench from the hunters, but there were also less savory ones. Excrement and urine, but also the smell of rotting meat, wood smoke and a few she couldn't identify.
> Buried underneath it all was the occasional whiff of boiling vegetables, but even those were tainted by the meat smell. It looked as if the people ate stew with dead flesh as an ingredient.
> Any hunger Mayor might have felt from their long walk quickly evaporated and it was all she could do not to heave. There was nothing inside her and her last meal of the few rapidly stripped leaves of that hazelnut branch was long gone. She still felt like throwing up.
> The people themselves were dirty, with grime and mud smeared on their bodies and their animal skin clothing, such as they wore. Most of the children were naked and some of the younger adults were severely under-dressed, especially for the night's chill. Although, they offset that by huddling around the fires or sitting in their tents with the flaps nearly closed.
> Willow and his two captives traversed most of the camp and it looked like all the people lived in this strange squalor. Mayor was glancing around for perhaps a larger tent, or maybe even a building. If she could identify the people's leader - provided they even had one - she could start working on some diplomacy.
> That was her secondary plan if escape proved impossible. The language barrier would make it very unlikely to succeed, but she wasn't about to give up on a task just because it seemed hard.
> She wasn't able to see anyone who might be a leader and another new scent caught her off-guard as she searched.
> Manure! It smelled like a farm, which was a very welcome change from the stench of the hunter-people. There were ponies, or maybe one of the other equestrian races there!
> "Hey! Help! Can you help us! Please!" Rainy Day cried out.
> Her voice caused many of the nearby people to look over in shock and there were signs of agitation.
"Hush!" Mayor hissed.
> She didn't want the mass of hunters to turn on them like they had in the forest. Apparently hearing them talk was causing the people significant distress and they needed some time to get used to the idea.
> Pretty soon she spotted why Rainy Day had yelled, though. There were Equestrians in front of them! Donkeys, but Mayor had never been so glad to see those permanently grumpy faces! They stared at the newcomers with dull, disinterested eyes.
> Something felt wrong and Mayor suddenly didn't want to be there.
> The donkeys were filthy and they stank. They kept staring, but there was no glimmer of recognition, no word of greeting, not so much as a smile or a nod.
> They almost seemed like...
"They're dumb..."
> It was barely a whisper, but enough for Rainy Day to hear and whimper in sudden fear.
> How was it possible? Every creature in Equestria could talk, or at least understand pony speech. These were either completely apathetic, or somehow reduced to even less than animals.
> The herd lost interest in the new arrivals and some of them bent down to try and crop the last bits of grass under their hooves. As Mayor watched she saw one of the jennies casually lift her tail and let out a stream of thick yellow urine.
> It splashed not a hoofstep away from another donkey, but neither of them seemed bothered by that fact.
> As she watched the little scene unfold Willow dragged her past the group. She came within touching distance of a jack and dug her hooves in to stop for a moment.
> She peered into his face from up close, where the lack of glasses didn't impede her vision.
"Can you understand me? Come on, there has to be something left!"
> The eyes that looked back were dim, uncomprehending. Her heart skipped when he opened his mouth, but all that came out was a faint, grass-smelling burp. Then the jack bent down to try and get at some more greenery.
> There was no intelligence there and barely any sentience.
> A slap on her rump brought her out of shock and Mayor stumbled forward. Willow was holding the makeshift rope collar on her neck and dragging her off to a nearby patch of grass.
> She glanced back, wondering why the donkeys haven't moved to eat the fresh grass, but saw that they all had rope around their necks. Tied up like animals and lacking even the intelligence to free themselves from something that simple.
> For a moment all she could feel for those miserable creatures was scorn, but then there was a glimmer of hope. If they tried to do the same to her and Rainy Day, they'd be out before the morning!
> They could sneak away while the people slept. It had looked as if they were heading into their tents and she could hear the voices of the females, presumably calling their children and the males to bed.
> Escape might actually be easy, Mayor thought to herself with renewed hope. She gave a silent thank you to the donkeys.
> Another of the hunters joined Willow in the small grass clearing and she thought she recognized him as one of the pack that had captured her. They exchanged some words and the newcomer lifted up a coil of rope in his claw. He held a misshapen bag in his other, but he simply dropped that on the ground and Mayor paid no more attention to it.
> They really were going to just tie them to something. Mayor nearly laughed with relief.
> Her joy suddenly withered when Willow bent down and grabbed her legs. Before she could really react, he hauled and sent her falling to her side. The sudden move made her squeal in fright and caused Rainy Day to jump sideways in alarm before the other hunter did the same to her.
> "Oof! No! Wait! Don't-"
> Her words were interrupted by a smack, followed by a pained whinny as the fall jolted her injured wing.
> Surely they weren't about to butcher them now?! Mayor scanned their claws, but they didn't have any of those stone knives.
> She thought about struggling, but by then Willow was deftly sitting on her belly and she couldn't get any real purchase on the ground with her hooves. He tried to grab around her fetlocks and she yanked her legs free, but that just resulted in a strong slap to her muzzle.
> "Nam gum!" he growled and lifted up a bunched fist. It was a threat and Mayor forced her limbs to stillness. That allowed the young hunter to grab her fetlocks and bring them together. He began looping the rope around them and suddenly Mayor understood.
> Her heart sank. Of course they had seen she could manipulate rope. They weren't stupid. They were going to tie them up fore- and hind-legs to keep them from escaping.
> Willow pulled the rope tight, then lifted himself and grabbed her hind fetlocks.
> Pretty soon all her limbs were tied together and she could barely move them at all. When the hunter let her go, she flopped to her side, breathing heavily after the ordeal. She saw that Rainy Day was in no better shape. The only small mercy was that she wasn't lying on her injured wing.
> Perhaps the only small mercy was that Willow had untied the rope around her neck. It felt good to be able to breathe normally once again. Beside her, Rainy Day got the exact same treatment.
> They looked at one another in disbelief as the two hunters stood up. The older hunter walked away, but Willow only went a few paces and rummaged in the grass. He lifted up the strange bag from before and approached them once more.
> Mayor watched him with a mixture of pure loathing and fear as he fiddled with the thing in his claws. There was a dribble and she smelled water.
"Wa-" she choked, but her throat was too dry and she coughed.
> The young hunter knelt beside her head and poked his strange bag at her muzzle. She realized with horror that it was just some animal skins, sewn together and filled with water. It stank of death and stale water and mold, and she turned her head away in disgust.
> Willow wouldn't have any of it and his free claw gripped her muzzle. She should have been able to fight him off, even bound as she was, but a day of walking and hunger and thirst had made her weak.
> He tilted his dead bag and a trickle of water splashed into her mouth.
> It was warm and stale, and it stank of old meat, but it was also the most refreshing and delicious thing she had ever tasted. Despite her revulsion, Mayor stopped struggling and opened her mouth wide.
> Swallowing in that position, on her back, was tricky and she drank more air than water, but she persisted. Mayor closed her eyes and gulped as Willow trickled the life-giving fluid into her mouth.
> It stopped too soon and she followed it with her head as he lifted the bag away. She was about to beg for more, but heard the urgent whimpering of Rainy Day and remembered that she wasn't the only pony in distress.
> "Plea-h, water..." the pegasus was mumbling and trying to wiggle closer to them. Luckily Willow went to her and knelt down.
> Rainy Day gagged and Mayor remembered her own reaction.
"It's okay! It stinks, but the water is good!"
> A moment later there came the slurping and swallowing as the hunter watered the other mare. It didn't take long and when he stood up the bag looked empty. He slung it across his shoulder and walked a few paces away while they recovered.
> Mayor wiggled across the grass until she could lean her side against Rainy Day's. Her head was free, but all she could manage was a weak nuzzle.
"You okay?"
> "My wing hurts, but it's not too bad. Uh, thanks for binding it up. I think that helped..."
"I don't know if I set it right. I'm not a doctor. I'm sorry if it never- if you-"
> She couldn't say it out loud, but Rainy Day understood. "It's okay. It's not your fault. I just hope we make it out of this alive."
"We will!"
> Mayor looked around to see if the people were annoyed with them talking, but there was only Willow, sitting on the ground a short distance away and staring at them.
> He was going to watch them to make sure they couldn't free themselves.
> Fresh, hot tears dribbled down Mayor Mare's cheeks as she realized they weren't going to escape, at least not soon. Not until the people grew complacent. Having had that hope snatched away really stung.
> She squeezed her eyes shut and silently promised herself she would never again underestimate these people.
> There was a sniffle and a moment later Rainy Day's whisper: "They aren't coming, are they Mayor?"
"What?"
> "The Elements. You lied. They'll never find us here."
"They m-might. Pegasi can fly to the Frozen North."
> The other mare just shook her head. "You still don't get it, do you?"
"Get what?!"
> Rainy Day took a deep breath, then turned her head away to look at the stars. "I don't recognize the stars. Not *any* of them, Mayor. When I said we're not in Equestria anymore..."
> Her heart sank as Mayor Mare anticipated her friend's words. Were they even further away from home than she thought? Clear on the other side of the world?
"Princess Luna will-"
> "No. Mayor, we're not in Equestria anymore. We're not even on our world, do you understand?! Whatever this place is, nopony can find us here."
"We'll just have to escape ourselves. Don't give up!"
> Rainy Day didn't say anything, so Mayor sough to give her more hope.
"I kept looking back. I know the way back to that portal or whatever it is. We just have to keep our heads down until they grow bored and complacent, then we'll sneak away and go home, okay? We can do this, just don't give up!"
> There was no reply, but after a few seconds Rainy Day closed her eyes. Mayor did the same. They were both exhausted by the walk and the ordeal. She listened to the noise of the camp around her - people talking, an occasional shout or laughter, or a fart from the nearby donkeys. The crackle of fire.
> It didn't seem as if she would be able to sleep in all the cacophony, but it wasn't long before she drifted off.
> Her last thought was that she would only sleep a few hours. Surely Willow couldn't watch over them the whole night. They might be able to escape if they woke before dawn.

> ~~~~

> Mayor Mare felt incredibly stiff as she was waking up. The air was very cold and her muscles were on fire. She wondered for a moment if she was coming down with a fever or something and tried to find the blanket to wrap herself up more tightly.
> Her legs didn't work, which was the first shock. Straining brought on the ache of muscle fatigue.
> She opened her eyes and let out a small, involuntary groan. Her breath caught when she realized that she was outside and lying on some damp grass.
> "Mayor?" came a voice from beside her.
> Another body was pressed against her side and it felt like the only source of warmth in the entire world.
"So it wasn't a dream?" Mayor asked as memory rushed back.
> Their capture and the forced march to this place. This... not-Equestria. The world of tall, hairless hunters.
> Rather than answering her, Rainy Day just drew in a deep breath and let it slowly out. She didn't have to say anything.
> All her legs were still tied firmly together, but at least the rope hadn't cut off her circulation, Mayor thought. Maybe she could free herself.
> It was near dawn, but the camp was still pretty quiet. As Mayor Mare looked around she spotted a shadowy figure moving around here and there, but Willow was gone and none of the creatures seemed to be watching them.
> Stupid, she thought to herself. Their first night, while the hunters were still wary of them and didn't come close had been the best chance of escape. Maybe she could still make it.
> Some struggling let Mayor flop over, but she couldn't bend enough to reach the rope with her teeth. All four legs tied together was apparently extremely crippling to a pony.
> At least a slightly pudgy, unfit earth pony who spent most of her time in an office.
"Rainy Day, can you get yourself free?"
> "I can't bend!" her friend complained. "My wing hurts if I try."
> Maybe there was another way.
"Can you untie my legs?"
> Mayor wiggled closer and, ignoring the chill dew soaking into her fur, brought the bundle of rope around her ankles close to Rainy Day's face. She waited patiently as the pegasus picked and tugged at her restraint.
> It seemed to go on for a while, then Rainy Day groaned. "It's no use! The rope is too thin and I don't understand this knot. It's too small!"
"Keep trying! We don't have a lot of time!"
> She kept still, even though her legs ached as she held them up in the air so Rainy Day could work. Would they even be able to walk? She glanced around to find a good direction with fewer tents and maybe some cover nearby, but the land was almost perfectly flat and from what she could see Mayor assumed they were in the middle of this makeshift village.
> Any direction would be as bad as the next. They'd just have to sneak out and hope none of the people spotted them. They both had plain colors, so that should help.
> To one side the sky seemed a little lighter and Mayor guessed it was the East with its impending sunrise. How long before it popped up?
> Did this world have a sun princess too? Maybe she looked more like these bipedal creatures.
> "Ugh!" Rainy Day groaned again in frustration.
"Just bite through!"
> "I'm trying!"
> Her bound legs jerked this way and that with more force as Rainy Day tugged and nibbled at the rope. There was a slight pop and some of the pressure around her ankles released.
"Yes! You're doing it!"
> Mayor could move her legs a bit more freely, but she didn't try to rip them free while Rainy Day was still working on the rope. She only needed to weaken the rope enough and Mayor, being an earth pony, would be able to snap it.
> The leverage wasn't quite right and the muscles she could bring into play like this weren't her strongest, but it should still work.
> Perhaps it would have worked, but she spotted a familiar hunter coming their way and her heart sank.
"Stop!" she hissed urgently and pulled away. "Stop! Pretend you're asleep!"
> Maybe they wouldn't notice the bite marks on the rope? They shouldn't have tried this when they knew they didn't have enough time!
> Mayor swore under her breath and flopped over so she could hide her legs beneath her. Maybe Willow would check on them and leave, and they could finish escaping.
> Rainy Day spotted the young hunter as well and grunted under her breath. "I think you can break the ropes. Do it Mayor and kick him, he won't be expecting it! We can escape!"
> For an instant she was tempted, but Mayor wasn't sure her legs would obey her fast enough. She was incredibly sore and she'd seen how strong and fast these people were. Trying to escape and failing would probably end badly. They might still decide it's less trouble to just butcher and eat them.
"No, we're both still tired. We'll pretend we're asleep tonight and then we have more time!"
> Rainy Day closed her eyes, but she gave Mayor a nod. She'd defer to her leadership.
> Willow was standing above them and watching for a few seconds, then he crouched down and reached his claw carefully toward the ponies.
> The gesture didn't look threatening, but Mayor still tensed, ready to bite him hard if he tried anything violent. She was expecting him to grab her, or maybe hit her if he noticed the damaged rope and she glared back in challenge.
> It didn't come and his claws brushed carefully, almost gently down her nose. "Taivan, taivan," he murmured, "taivan mori."
> Mayor didn't think he was speaking to them. His tone felt more like he was talking to himself, but it was a good opportunity. She was a diplomat, so maybe it was time to let her cutie mark lead the way.
"Yes," she cooed quietly. "That's right. Taivan."
> The young hunter froze and stared at her. Maybe he'd forgotten they could talk? Mayor seized the opportunity and dredged her memory for all she could remember.
"Um, ols! Ols mori! We're tied down, see? We didn't escape, you should trust us!"
> He talked at her then, but the words came out too quickly and Mayor couldn't be sure she caught any of them. She listened intently, but it was just a bunch of nonsense to her.
"Slow down. I can't understand you, slow down!"
> They watched each other without any glimmer of comprehension, then Willow just pushed her to her side and grabbed her legs. Mayor froze, hoping against hope he wouldn't figure out they'd fiddled with the ropes.
> She needed to distract him while his claws did the work!
"Yori, no- yari! That's another one. Ols yari mori, um, taivan! That's what you said, right?"
> It was working, even if Mayor couldn't be sure what she'd just said. It was probably wrong, but Willow's mouth quirked up in a smile. Pretty soon he had the knot untied and he just let the rope slip to the ground.
> Good, he hadn't noticed the damage! As soon as he let her go, Mayor rolled to her belly and concealed the piece of string under herself.
"Thanks! Thank you! It was pretty uncomfortable."
> The words almost made her grimace in distaste. Thanking him for releasing her after he had been the one to tie her up in the first place. She couldn't let any of her anger or disgust show.
> It was way too fast, but maybe these people weren't sophisticated enough. Maybe they'd believe she and Rainy Day had given in this quickly. If so, perhaps they wouldn't tie them up as strongly the next day.
> She had to get them to trust her, at least a little, so Mayor didn't make any sudden moves. She got her legs on the ground under her and started to slowly lift herself up.
> Willow's hand slapped down on her rump and he barked: "Doosh!"
> It'd be best to stay still, but the moment was lost. Willow had been about to untie Rainy Day, but now he reached under Mayor and searched for the piece of rope. He found it and pulled it out.
> Mayor held her breath, hoping against hope, but this time there was no missing it. Part of the knot was still holding it together, but the string was clearly broken.
> "Urakh," he murmured to himself and Mayor guessed it meant that the rope was torn. She nearly panicked and glanced for a way to run, but then a sudden flash of inspiration struck her.
> The stupid thing had been in her ribs the whole night, maybe it could be useful now.
"Yes! It got torn- see?"
> She shuffled and fished under herself with a hoof until she dragged out a large stone. It wasn't one of the sharp ones the hunters used on their spears, but it was irregular and might explain how the rope got torn.
"I must have rolled around on it when I slept, see?"
> Mayor tried to mime this, sticking her legs together and wiggling around on the ground.
"See? Urakh ols, right? It got torn. It's not my fault!"
> "He's never going to buy that, Mayor," Rainy Day commented. The pegasus was watching the whole scene with some interest, but didn't seem overly optimistic it'd work.
> Except it was working, Mayor was sure of it. She gave Willow her biggest, most innocent grin as he picked up the stone and rubbed the rope against it.
"Yes! That's it! Urakh, urakh!"
> He shrugged to himself and tossed the stone away. Then he let the shorter length of rope fall and reached once more for Mayor. She stiffened, but all he did was loop the string around her neck the same way he'd done the previous day.
> The other end remained firmly in his hand and only then did Willow move on to Rainy Day. He obviously didn't want them running away, even if they were in the middle of a dense camp. The sky was getting bright and the people around them were waking up.
> Already children were crying, youngsters were shouting and laughing as they played and the males were yelling as they looked for their fellows. Trying to run would get them pierced by spears within a few hoofsteps.
> Rainy Day grunted as Willow tugged on the rope around her own legs, but Mayor held up a hoof.
"Just go along with it. They gotta think we're okay with this, right? Maybe they'll be less vigilant tonight."
> The pegasus seemed doubtful, but she didn't struggle and kept quiet as her own rope was tied around her neck. Pretty soon Willow had them both tied and began walking. There was nothing to do but follow him.
> Mayor found herself hoping they weren't going to a cooking pot after all.

> ~~~~

> Mayor Mare shared an apprehensive look with Rainy Day as they were being led through the camp and onward. On the one hoof, they didn't know what Willow planned to do with them, but on the other if they went sufficiently far there would only be the one hunter to deal with.
> She glanced back to see if any of the others were following, but it was hard to tell. The camp was quite chaotic and there was a lot of noise and activity now that everyone was waking up.
> A few of the younger members of the tribe were doing something with the group of donkeys and there was a lot of braying and snorting, but other than their activities were inscrutable to Mayor. For all she knew, this was what regular life looked like for these people.
> Already fires were being lit and some of the children were put to work carrying things. A few groups of older males had gathered and were laughing uproariously at something.
> Mayor stumbled and nearly fell, which reminded her that she was being dragged by a rope around her neck. She faced forward again and watched the ground in front of her hooves, but she kept her ears turned to the camp behind them.
> "Where do you think he's taking us?" Rainy Day asked in a quiet voice. Her wing seemed to be giving her fewer problems this day, but maybe that was just because she'd gotten used to the pain.
> Other than still being tied firmly to her side, Mayor couldn't see any change in the appendage. Maybe, if they had some time to themselves she could untie it and see how it felt.
"I don't know, but I hope it's not another whole day of walking."
> "Me too."
> There was another problem developing and Mayor Mare lowered her head, determined to keep it to herself. Unfortunately Rainy Day had sharp eyesight and asked: "What's wrong?"
> She thought about refusing to answer, but all it would do was worry the other mare.
"I need to- to go to the little fillies' room."
> "What- now?"
> All Mayor could do was nod.
> "Okay, just go. I'll walk in front. I know we've both done it yesterday."
> Once again Mayor Mare nearly stumbled, but this time in shock.
"You saw?! B-But you don't understand! This time it's number two!"
> "Oh." Rainy Day was thoughtful, then looked ahead and jerked her head that way. "We're almost there, I think. Just hold it a little longer."
"Almost where? How do you know?"
> She gazed up ahead and saw a blue-green blur and a line of trees. She soon recognized it.
"A river!"
> Rainy Day smiled. "Mhm! I guess hauling water for us is a lot of work, so why not lead us to the river so we can drink?"
"Good thinking."
> They fell silent as Willow glanced back and gave their ropes a quick jerk to make them move faster. This time Mayor was only too glad to oblige and after a rest Rainy Day could keep up with ease.
> A few more minutes brought them to the bank of the river where the young hunter approached what looked like a dried-out tree trunk. There were no branches and the trunk was stripped of bark and had deep grooves cut into it.
> Before Mayor could figure out what it was for, Willow looped her lead rope around the thing and tied it. The groove made sure it couldn't slip over the top.
> Unfortunately the rope wasn't long enough for her to reach any of the nearby bushes to do her business.
"Hey! No, you can't just- look, I need to go. I'll be right back, okay?!"
> Of course he couldn't understand her and by now he was used to them speaking so he simply ignored it. Instead, he was leading a startled Rainy Day to the river.
"Wait!"
> The other mare dug in her hooves and looked back. "Mayor?! What is he doing with us?"
> It didn't help for long. Willow braced himself against the ground and pulled on the rope. A pegasus couldn't resist that kind of strength and Rainy Day was forced to take a step.
> Her ears were flat and she looked like she was choking on the rope. "Hel- Mayor! Help!" she gasped out.
> She'd injure herself, or the young hunter would do something drastic if she didn't calm down. Mayor was sorry for her own panic which had started this whole thing.
"Relax!" she commanded. "He's not gonna drown you, Rainy Day! He just wants you to drink!"
> Mayor hoped with all her heart she wasn't lying. Rainy Day gave her a wide-eyed look and she nodded with as much of a smile as she could muster. She couldn't help noticing that Willow had stopped hauling on the rope when she'd spoken to the pegasus.
> He grinned to himself when Rainy Day took a tentative step closer. When she hesitated he gave the string a tug and the mare allowed herself to be led away.
> They both waded into the water until it reached Rainy Day's belly, then Willow just stopped, watching her expectantly.
> She quickly figured out what he wanted and it was something she needed to do anyway, so Rainy Day lowered her muzzle into the water and drank.
> Just watching it was both making Mayor's mouth water and the pressure in her bladder increase.
"Hurry up, for Celestia's sake," she grumbled to herself, stepping from hoof to hoof.
> It was quiet enough so that not even Rainy Day could hear.
> A new sound pressed upon her consciousness and she became aware of the growling, snorting and braying mass of donkeys approaching from the camp. Obviously they were going to be watered as well.
> She looked back and saw that several of the older children were leading the group. They didn't have rope, like her and Rainy Day, but the bipeds had long, supple whips in their forepaws.
> Whenever one of the donkeys started to stray from the group a youngster was there to administer a quick strike and drive the beast back.
> The beast, Mayor thought to herself. It was appropriate, even if it pained her to admit it. In this land, she, Rainy Day and the hunters were the thinking creatures and the donkeys were the animals. Perhaps even less than animals.
> Soon enough the herd was on the beach and rushed to the river to drink their fill. They pushed and jostled each other and Mayor could see that their young didn't get any special treatment. They were either ignored, or outright shoved away.
> One particular foal tried to nurse as Mayor watched and its mother just pushed it away so she could drink in peace.
> No thought there.
> Luckily it seemed the children, all of whom were younger than Willow and seemed to hold him in awe, kept their herd away from the two ponies. Even better, perhaps, was the fact that they took station downriver.
> When it was her turn to drink Mayor wouldn't have to taste donkey in the water.
> Rainy Day had had her fill and was coming back out of the water. Willow didn't have to drag her this time and she hurried until she was at Mayor Mare's side again.
> They waited while he tied her to the stump and untied the other rope, but then Mayor resisted his tug.
"Sorry. I need to use the bush, okay? I'll be back right away."
> She tried to walk in that direction, but the rope tightened and she stopped. She gave the hunter a pleading look.
"Please? I'll just be a minute! Understand? Uh, poop. I need to poop!"
> The only way to make him understand, however embarrassing it felt, was to demonstrate. She crouched a little with her hind legs and lifted up her tail.
"See? Poop. I need to do it and I need some privacy!"
> He tried to understand, Mayor could see that. He leaned his head to one side and frowned in concentration. She mimed her position again and gave him a hopeful smile, then pointed a hoof at the bush.
"Poop," she repeated.
> "Poop?" he mimicked her word.
"Yes! Exactly! Come on!"
> She tugged on the rope on her side and it worked! The hunter walked after her and followed her the short distance to the bushes. It gave Mayor Mare hope that they might yet come to reach some understanding in time.
> The shrubbery rustled as she pushed her way in and then shook wildly as Willow followed. Mayor stopped and held up a hoof.
"No, you wait here!"
> She mimed pushing him away, but he only gave her a blank stare. When she took another step in the bush he went right along with her.
"Come on, the rope is long enough! Ols. You have enough ols to wait out there!"
> The pressure was almost unbearable and the hunter didn't understand what she needed. Mayor felt like growling in frustration, but he might take it the wrong way and hit her, fearing an attack.
"Please? Just a little privacy?"
> It came out as a whine, but of course he didn't understand her words.
> There was no more choice. She swiveled her rear away, took a step back and crouched. Her ears went flat and her muzzle colored deep red at the ensuing sounds as her business plopped on the ground behind her.
> By pure luck she had gotten her tail out of the way in time.
> A moment later, unable to be stopped, a stream joined the noise.
> Perhaps the only mercy was that Willow just stood there and didn't follow any further. He finally understood what she was doing and was waiting patiently for her to finish.
> It didn't take long and Mayor looked around for a large leaf or something to clean herself. Unfortunately as soon as she relaxed the young hunter turned and tugged on her rope.
"Wait, I didn't- gah!"
> That was all the patience he was willing to afford her, it seemed. In her embarrassment Mayor didn't think to fight him and just followed as he dragged her rope to the river.
> She'd have to clean herself later, it seemed. For now she suddenly realized just how dry her throat was and hurried after Willow to get her drink.
> Surely if they were watering her and Rainy Day that meant they wanted to keep them alive. They weren't going to kill and eat them. What they wanted them for was still a question, but at least it didn't seem like it was food.
> Mayor Mare relaxed a little and lowered her muzzle to the water. It was very cold, but also clear and fresh. A lot better than the stale mess they had poured down her throat the previous night.

> ~~~~

> The next part of their captivity was a little confusing at first. By the time Mayor had had her fill of water, Willow shouted something and one of the younger creatures ran up from the donkey herd and gave him his switch.
"What are you-"
> "Hyah!" Willow shouted and flicked the thin branch across her rear. It didn't really hurt, but it stung and the surprise of it made Mayor jump away.
"Ow! Hey! You can't- eep!"
> The second flick also caught her by surprise and she backed away as far as the rope would allow her. She faced the hunter with her ears pinned back and an angry twist to her lips.
"Stop that! I'm not your beast of burden!"
> Of course he didn't understand her words and he had a different plan. One wherein, Mayor Mare feared, what she thought or wanted didn't count for much. The whip whistled as it narrowly missed her muzzle and she flinched back.
> There was only one choice if she didn't want that thing to hit her right in the eye and Mayor walked backward out of the water. Willow kept pace with her, occasionally swishing his branch to her left or right to direct her careful retreat.
> He was controlling her by the means of a rope and a switch and the shame of it all was quickly driving Mayor to her limit. She bared her teeth at the insolent hunter and reared up to flick her forehooves at him.
> Of course he was too far for her to connect, but it did stop him for a few seconds and he eyed her warily.
> "Ugu!" he yelled and brandished his whip at her. He feigned a lunge and swished the branch through the air, but Mayor was past caring. She charged at him, intending to either bite him or give him a swift kick to the gut.
> Nothing lethal, just something to make him stop and regret his actions for a bit. To her dismay Willow was laughing as she jumped for him. He found this *fun*?!
> Before that fact had time to fully register, the whip came around and slashed a line of fire across her shoulder and back. She flinched away and it was enough to miss her bite.
> Willow was ready for that too and jumped out of her way, then hauled on the rope. The loop around her neck tightened painfully and Mayor fell to her side with a painful grunt.
> While her vision swam the whip came down twice in quick succession across her flank.
"OW!"
> She struggled to her hooves and turned to Willow again, red rage flooding her vision. She barely heard Rainy Day yelling something to her as she charged again.
> This time she was aiming her head to Willow's midriff. If she could knock him down he'd be prone to a well-placed stomp.
> Her mistake was lowering her head too much so she didn't see Willow's face. Mayor braced her neck for the collision, but it didn't come. Something slapped the top of her head and she realized the hunter had *jumped*.
> She reared up to get at least one good kick in at his legs, but the creature was too fast and already out of reach. Even as he landed lightly back on his feet behind her, Willow was hauling on the rope and Mayor nearly did a somersault.
> This time she landed on her back and the whip came down on her belly, just once but infinitely more painful on the soft flesh there. She squealed in agony and rolled to protected her vulnerable spots.
> Willow was still laughing and delivered another couple of lashes to her rear while she was scrambling to her hooves. By this point she hardly even felt the sting. Once again Mayor charged and this time she wasn't holding back anymore.
> Her fear and anger and hatred of these people, these *monsters* who had tied them up and dragged them to this miserable world, came bursting out. She screamed her defiance at Willow, since he was the nearest target of her frustrations, and her breath came out with flying spittle.
> This time she was watching his eyes and saw a flick to his right. He was about to sidestep and Mayor almost grinned to herself. She planted her forehooves firmly in the ground and flicked her entire body to the left.
> Her hind hooves shot out at chest height with deadly, crushing force.
> All she hit was air. Her only warning was a blur on her right as she flew through the air. She had overextended herself, fully expecting an impact which didn't come. There was no recovery from that and Mayor fell down her belly, hard.
> The air was driven from her lungs and her muzzle impacted the ground with enough force to make her vision swim. All she could do for the next couple of seconds was lie there and focus on getting her breath back.
> It was then the whipping really started. Somehow, Mayor didn't know how, Willow had dodged left instead of right. It had been a feint and he was unharmed, laughing as he beat her.
> Each time there was a swish of air, followed by another line of bright fire across her back. For the first few all Mayor could do was choke, but then she finally managed to breathe in, only to squeal in agony.
> She tried to roll away from the blows, but that just enabled Willow to whip her belly a few times and she quickly turned back. Pretty soon she was curled up in a ball of misery as she sought to minimise the amount of hide Willow could hit.
> There was no stopping her sobbing screams now.
"Stop! AH! No! Please! I'm sorry! PLE- GAH! OW!"
> It went on for long minutes and she was reduced to incoherent babbling, but the whipping ceased and Mayor was left alone to cry. She was grateful that it was over, but she hated that it happened. She absolutely despised the ease with which this young hunter had defeated her.
> Maybe a pegasus could match his reflexes, but not his strength. It'd have to be a very athletic pegasus, too.
> Mayor closed her eyes and wept in sheer frustration and impotence. Until now she'd been counting on her strength to beat down her captors if there weren't many of them, but that notion was now thoroughly dispelled.
> The rope around her neck tightened and Mayor opened her eyes in surprise. Willow was still grinning to himself, proud of his achievement. He still held the whip and now he was jerking her rope, wanting her to stand.
> She refused and put her muzzle firmly down in the sand.
> A single lash blossomed across her rump, making all her previous strikes flare with fresh pain. She choked off a squeal, but not before it escaped her lips.
> The rope jerked again, stronger this time and when Mayor looked she saw Willow raising his arm for another strike.
> He'd just keep beating her until she obeyed, Mayor realized with a sinking feeling in her gut. He wanted something and he was going to get it from her one way or another. She placed a forehoof down and pushed. The lash didn't come, but Willow kept his whip up as he barked some unknown command at her.
> Another tug on the rope made it clear. He wanted her up on her hooves and so Mayor obeyed. She stood on shaking legs and her breath caught as she pulled at her tender skin. It didn't feel broken, but she would certainly have bruises.
"There! I'm up! Buck you!"
> Willow clicked his tongue and tugged on the rope. She didn't know what he wanted, but the young hunter landed a light slap of the whip on her rump and Mayor took a step.
> He kept up that clicking noise and tugged at her rope again and she began to walk. It wasn't clear where he wanted her to go, but Mayor didn't want another beating so she walked.
> Pretty soon she reached the limit of the rope and slowed, but a tap of the whip on her rump made her pick up her pace once more. Since there was no other option, she angled herself and ran in a circle around Willow. It was as far as the rope would allow her.
> That seemed to be the right answer and Willow shouted something which didn't sound as angry. Realizing that he was probably encouraging her made Mayor flush with fresh embarrassment, but she kept up her slow canter.
> After a few rounds willow clicked his tongue again and swished the stick through the air. Mayor instinctively sped up, which turned out to be the right answer.
> It was a thoroughly stupid and demeaning exercise, but there wasn't much choice if she wanted to avoid further whipping. Mayor kept her head down and ran in that Celestia-damned circle while Willow laughed and shouted more encouragement.

> ~~~~

> By the time it was over Mayor Mare was panting heavily and trying to control the trembling of her limbs. Every muscle burned with the combination of the previous day's walk and this latest, involuntary exercise.
> Willow had finally tired of driving her in a circle and tied her back to the tree stump, where she simply slid into the ground and let her muzzle rest in the dirt. Trickles of sweat ran down her sides, tickling as they went.
> Rainy Day was to be next and the hunter led her to the same patch of sand where Mayor's hoofsteps traced a nearly perfect circle.
> Mayor forced herself to look, but her pegasus friend was being put through the same paces as her. She had an advantage though. Having watched what it was Willow wanted from them, Rainy Day didn't have any troubles interpreting his commands, even if they were just wordless shouts and clicks of his tongue.
> Here and there he tapped her side with the whip, but it was in no way a strike.
> Mayor found her ears lowering and her lips tightening as she considered the unfairness of it all. She'd have avoided punishment too, if she'd seen a demonstration of what to do beforehoof!
> An instant later she felt guilty for such thoughts and silently admonished herself. Rainy Day was injured, so it was actually better that Willow had picked Mayor as his first victim.
> Who knew what a beating might do to Rainy Day's already broken wing? Even if there had been no choice on her part, Mayor Mare had still done the right thing, both as a friend and as a government official.
> She still couldn't help the tiny flash of envy as Willow laughed and cheered Rainy Day on. At least it sounded like cheering. Mayor didn't understand the words.
> In the end she laid her head down and focused simply on getting her breathing under control. The fire in her legs had faded to dull heat, which would leave her sore by the afternoon. All she could do was hope that the hunter didn't have any more 'training' in mind for her.
> A swish drew her attention, but it was just Willow waving his whip to get Rainy Day to change direction. She turned almost on her heels and resumed her circle.
> "Sain! Sain mori! Sain mori!" Willow shouted, smiling.
> Mayor's ears perked up. She'd heard that word before, back when they first put the rope around their necks. Why would he be talking about tying them up?
> Maybe the meaning of the words shifted depending on context? It'd make learning their language all but impossible, at least without help or active participation from the people.
> So far, Willow seemed to be intent on treating them like dumb animals, even though he knew they could talk and reason. He was a bit strange, that one and Mayor couldn't quite guess at his motives.
> She glanced longingly at the water, wishing she could get a drink. The exercise had served to dry her out and her mouth felt both sticky and full of sand, impossible as that was.
> Hopefully Willow would realize he had to water them.
> Mayor's stomach growled and she mentally corrected: feed and water them. She didn't have to like that he treated them like beasts of burden, but at least that'd mean he had to feed them, right?
> Luckily the 'training' of Rainy Day went smoothly and they were soon done. The mare was breathing heavily, but she wasn't sweating as much as Mayor had been. Obviously he'd gone lighter on her, perhaps because she hadn't tried to attack him.
> Mayor Mare got to her hooves as they approached, even if she was unsteady and her muscles screamed in protest. She gritted her teeth and kept her level gaze on the hunter. Surely he wouldn't trying anything more, would he?
> Rainy Day caught her gaze, but looked away when she saw her expression. It felt as if there was some kind of tension between them now and Mayor let out a sigh.
"You did well. He didn't beat you."
> "Only because I was watching you," Rainy Day murmured back. "Look, I know it probably looked like I was submitting, but he'd make me do it anyway. This way is just easier. B-But I'm not giving in, okay? We're getting away as soon as we can!"
> Mayor Mare asked herself whom Rainy Day was trying to convince, but she didn't say it out loud. The shameful truth was that if their roles were reversed, she'd have used what Rainy Day learned just the same. She couldn't fault the other mare for making it easy on herself.
> She was injured, after all. She couldn't afford to be beaten and possibly rolled around on the ground.
"Yeah, yeah. Don't worry about it. We have to pretend like we're going along with what they want so they let their guard down."
> Rainy Day gave her a puzzled look at that statement and Mayor could almost read the retort in her eyes. If she wanted to pretend they were submitting, why had she attacked the hunter?
> Fortunately she didn't ask it out loud because Willow had untied her rope and was tugging them after him away from the river. Mayor cast the water a longing glance, but then focused on putting one hoof in front of the other.
> They didn't talk as he led them, but it wasn't far before he dropped to his knees and rummaged in the grass before him.
> Mayor watched with dull curiosity as Willow muttered to himself and searched around. The ropes were short enough that they had to follow him here and there, until he found what he was looking for.
> He pulled the grass away to reveal a thick stake which had been hammered in the ground. It had a groove, similar to the stump near the river and Mayor quickly understood. He would tie them up there.
> Her pulse quickened. If he intended to leave them alone while they browsed on the grass it might prove their chance to escape. She needed a minute of them not looking and she could bite through their ropes, or pull the stake out if it wasn't too deep.
> She looked around and decided on the best course of action. If they could make it to the river, They could use the sparse trees as cover and if the crossed, or swam it, the water would hide their tracks.
> It would give them enough time before the pursuit that they might make it back to the portal!
> Mayor kept her expression as neutral as she could, but Rainy Day noticed and lifted up her ears in question. Luckily she didn't comment.
> Pretty soon they were tied to the stake and Willow stood up, looking pleased with himself. He was going to leave them, Mayor thought excitedly.
> He leaned down to grab a fistful of fresh grass. He was about to hold it out to Mayor, but changed his mind and offered it to Rainy Day instead. Probably afraid she would bite him, Mayor thought with grim satisfaction.
> He jabbered something in his tongue as he brought his claw closer.
> Rainy Day looked at Mayor Mare, who gave her a shrug and a nod. It wasn't like the grass was poisoned, not when he'd just picked it in front of them.
> With that the pegasus reached her muzzle forward and pulled a few stalks out of his claw. She made a show of chewing it and then smiling in appreciation. "Mmmm. It's good!" she said.
> Mayor nearly rolled her eyes at the forced friendliness, but Willow just said some more things, gave Rainy Day a friendly-looking pat on her back, then took a step away.
> This was it! He was going to go!
> He watched them for a while and Mayor realized he was probably waiting to see them both eat. She quickly dropped her head and started cropping the nearby grass.
> It was fresh and edible, though she wasn't a big fan of plain grass or hay. Ponies could live on it in a pinch, but she'd have to eat a lot of it not to starve.
> Still, this seemed to satisfy Willow and he turned away. Mayor kept her head down, but she tracked the young hunter with an ear and an eye, waiting for her chance to enact their escape.
> He suddenly let out a shrill whistle, which made both mares jerk in surprise. They looked at him, but Willow was holding up his claw with the whip and staring back to the river.
> "What's he doing?" Rainy Day asked.
"I'm not sure. Maybe he's-"
> She fell silent when she heard the trampling of grass and the short, rapid breaths of a younger member of their tribe.
> Nomads, Mayor Mare decided. She couldn't keep calling them 'creatures', or 'hunters'. Those tents looked like the village moved a lot, so 'nomads' would do until she either learned a better word or came up with one.
> It was one of the children who had driven the herd of donkeys to the river. He was sun-bronzed, and wore fewer animal skins than any of the hunters who had captured them. All he had was a strip of some kind of hide around his waist.
> The two nomads spoke for a while, then Willow pointed at the two mares and gave the newcomer his whip. The youth smiled at them and kept sneaking glances, even as he was being given what sounded like strict instructions on how to deal with them.
> Whatever responses he gave were apparently the right ones, because Willow cast another glance at Mayor Mare and Rainy Day, then walked back to the village.
> It wasn't too hard to reason our. He'd put them under the watch of the youngster while he went to do his own things. Maybe he was going to eat as well, or maybe he had some other work besides 'training' the ponies.
> Her spirits slightly lowered, Mayor began laying new plans for escape. Maybe the younger nomad would be easier to trick, or disable. Maybe he wouldn't be as fast or as strong. He still had that whip, but maybe she could take it from him.
> While she watched him and plotted, the youngster came slowly closer, wide-eyed and excited. He reached out his forepaw, but then paused and pulled it back. Instead he said some words, too quick for Mayor to make them out.
"Sorry, I can't understand you."
> The reaction surprised her. Rather than shock, or fear, like the older nomads sometimes displayed, this one almost squealed with joy and clapped his claws together. His next question came out even faster and Mayor shook her head.
"Slow down. I can't even make out what you're saying!"
> This time he was puzzled and repeated what he'd said, but it was no better. Mayor sighed and decided to take the matters into her own hooves. She sat on her haunches and beckoned with her hoof. Maybe that gesture would translate.
> The child took a step forward, but didn't sit. It was the best she'd get, Mayor figured.
> Start with the basics, she thought to herself.
> She placed a hoof over her barrel and looked directly at the youth.
"Mayor Mare," she said slowly.
> She tapped her chest a few times and repeated her name, making sure to enunciate it properly. Then she pointed a hoof at Rainy Day, who was chewing a bit of grass and watching with interest.
"Rainy Day."
> The nomad looked confused, but that was to be expected. She repeated their names a few more times, tapping either herself, or waving her hoof at the other mare as appropriate. Then she pointed at him and raised her eyebrows.
> There was nothing, so she went through the motions again. Tap on her own chest.
"Mayor Mare."
> Point at her friend.
"Rainy Day."
> Shift her hoof to the nomad and wait in polite silence.
> "S-Salki?" he ventured.
> It sounded right and Mayor smiled in triumph. This time she didn't lift her hoof from the ground and repeated what she hoped was his name.
"Salki?"
> He nodded, which meant that at least that gesture was the same.
"Good. Now we're getting somewhere!"
> She thought to try something and lifted up her hoof to the string around her neck. She hefted the loose rope and said what she'd guessed the name was.
"Ols."
> This made the young nomad - Salki - clap his forepaws again. "Ols! Za! Za!"
> Combined with his nodding, Mayor added that word to her mental dictionary. 'Za' was probably 'yes'.
> She wondered if he'd be willing to learn some of her words, too.
"Rope," she intoned, hefting the piece of string again.
> He blinked in confusion, and she clarified.
"Rope. Ols. Ols. Rope."
> Salki managed a pretty good impression of the word. "Rope?"
"Yes! Um, za! Rope!"
> At this point, Rainy Day drew in a breath. "Oooh, I see what you're doing! Wow, that's clever!"
> Mayor didn't feel as if she'd done something spectacular, but she still allowed herself a smile of pride.
"Well, yes. How else can we learn their language? We have to start with basic words, and it easiest with physical objects we can point or hold."
> Salki was watching them both with interested, glittering eyes. He let the whip drop from his paw and came to sit in front of Mayor Mare, eager to learn more of the strange words she had to teach, and to share some of his own.
> Of course, she was only too happy to oblige. With luck, if Willow stayed away long enough, she might be able to ask for food and water by nightfall.
> In her excitement she completely forgot her tentative plans to overpower the youth and sneak away. Somecreature was willing to listen, to communicate. Maybe to negotiate. This was what she was born to do.

> ~~~~

> "You should eat something, Mayor!" Rainy Day suddenly spoke up and it took Mayor Mare a moment to mentally switch gears.
"Huh? Oh."
> She was still sitting on the ground with the child Salki and she'd added some very useful words to her vocabulary. She'd be able to ask Willow for food and water. It would have been nice if she could ask him for a rest, but that was a surprisingly difficult concept to mime.
> Her stomach growled and Mayor realized it was getting late in the day and she hadn't eaten anything since her capture.
> It was making her weak and she scurried to get on her hooves. The young nomad watching them also jumped upright and she saw how he gripped his whip. That realization made her ears wilt slightly. He was curious about her and seemed willing to teach her the language, but he was still charged with watching her.
> Mayor had no doubt that if she or Rainy Day tried to escape he would use that stick on them. It was a painful reminder of their station, but she pushed it out of her mind. They'd escape soon enough and even if not, she was working on another, more diplomatic plan.
> She looked around for some edible, young grass, but the only fare was that tough, winter fodder. It was all but tasteless, but she still welcomed getting something in her stomach, at least.
> Out of the corner of her eye she saw Salki relax when she began eating. He looked around, probably to see if Willow was coming back, then sighed and approached Rainy Day.
> The pegasus froze and her ears pinned back.
"It's okay. He's... he's not as bad as the others," Mayor tried to calm her.
> Rainy Day didn't relax, but she allowed the youngster to approach her. She flinched when he reached out his claw, but all Salki wanted apparently was to feel her mane.
> Mayor focused back on filling her belly, so she didn't see what happened next. There was a click of teeth, a shout from Salki and a thwack of his whip. Rainy Day whinnied and jumped, then backed away until the rope tying her to the stake was completely taut.
"What happened?!"
> The youth was glaring at the mare and she was showing her teeth.
> "He grabbed my lip!"
"What?! Why?"
> "How in Tartarus am I supposed to know? He's lucky I didn't really bite him!"
> Rainy Day say on her haunches and used a forehoof to rub her rump. "Didn't have to bucking smack me like that! It was just a warning!"
> Suddenly Mayor understood. Salki had thwacked her with the stick when she tried to bite him. Even now he was watching her warily, probably wondering if he can trust her at all. In a moment he'd raise his whip again and punish her.
> Mayor needed to do her job and de-escalate.
"Hey! Salki? Come here. Uh, irekh, irekh."
> She punctuated her request by beckoning with her hoof and the youth approached, though he still kept glancing at Rainy Day, who was staying resolutely at the end of her rope.
"Show me. What were you going to do to her? Here," Mayor urged.
> He didn't understand, but she carefully reached out her hoof and pulled his paw to her muzzle. His fingers smelled of wood and ash and dirt, but she ignored it.
> Luckily Salki figured it out and crouched. He said something to Rainy Day, something Mayor didn't catch, but then he focused on her. His fingers poked at her lips and she remained perfectly still, with her ears splayed but not pinned back.
> She had a feeling these people understood some of the pony facial expressions.
> Salki felt around her mouth for a moment, then pried her lips apart. He held her jaw firmly in one claw while he used the other to lift her upper lip. It suddenly clicked for Mayor.
"Feefh!"
> The youth let her go and she could talk again.
"Teeth, Rainy Day. He just wanted to look at our teeth."
> Contrary to her expectations, that didn't make the other mare relax. If anything, she pulled the rope a little harder. "What? Why?"
"I guess-"
> Mayor thought back to the dumb donkeys.
"I think they wanna make sure we're healthy. I guess they'll put us to work or something."
> "What work?"
> This time she nearly growled in frustration, but held it in check.
"Look, I don't know. I'm just guessing here. Willow had us run around on his command. They're feeding and watering us. If they wanted to eat us, who go through all that trouble? So the only alternative is work."
> It made sense and Rainy Day slowly nodded. "Fine. Not that it matters, we're getting out of here tonight, right? When they're all asleep."
"Yes."
> Mayor Mare was forced to sit down and scratch at her neck. She'd rolled around on the sandy bank of the river, then sweated through it when Willow worked her. It was itchy.
> That one thing reminded her just how uncomfortable she was. Parts of her were too hot where the harsh sun was hitting, but other bits were chilly, still damp from her sweat and the river. Her mouth was sore from the unaccustomed, rough grass, and her legs still hurt from the forced march and the unwelcome training earlier.
> To top it all off, she was very thirsty. At least that one she could now deal with.
"Salki? Can you take us to the river? Uh, what was it again. Us. Thirsty. Us. Water!"
> "Us what?" Rainy Day added, confused.
"No, not us as in the pronoun. Their word for water sounds just like that."
> Salki brightened up when he understood what she wanted and he stood to look around. He scanned the horizon, then dashed to the steak to which they were tied. It took him some time to work Mayor's knot loose, but then he grasped her rope firmly in his claw and began to work on the other.
> Rainy Day took a step closer to put some slack in the string, which would make it easier for him, but she was staring right at Mayor. "We could escape, you know?"
"What?"
> "He's just a youth. As soon as he's untied my rope, just push him down... and..."
"And what? Kick his head in? We're not like them, Rainy Day!"
> The mare had the decency to look embarrassed. "Well, no, obviously don't kill him. Just, I dunno, knock him out? One good buck to the stomach and he'll stay put for a few minutes, long enough for us to run."
> Mayor shook her head, though she was tempted to do what Rainy Day said.
"Can't run. I still hurt all over, don't you?"
> "Well, yeah. We'd just need to get across the river and into those woods up there. We could lose them in the forest."
> Mayor followed her gaze, but the thicket didn't look nearly large enough to hide in, not from several determined hunters in broad daylight. She shook her head again.
"No, too risky. We'll only get one shot at this. Besides, there's others at the river, with the donkeys, remember? If Sa-"
> She froze and looked at the youth, who had finally untied her string. If she said his name, he'd know they were talking about him. She didn't want to risk it.
"If he shouts or something they'll be right on top of us. You've seen how fast they can move on those two legs, right?"
> Rainy Day hung her head and sighed. "You're right. It'll be safer tonight."
> They both followed Salki to the river, but Mayor kept wondering whether she was being too careful. Maybe Rainy Day was right? It'd only take one well-placed kick from her powerful hind legs to put the young nomad out of commission for a while.
> The other children seemed busy with the herd of donkeys, which wanted to spread out over the grass and needed constant taps with the whips to keep them together.
> She half-tensed to do it, but a sharp ache in her hind leg warned her of an impeding cramp if she tried, and Mayor hurriedly relaxed. She hobbled strangely for a few steps to loosen her leg and nodded to herself. She was in no shape to make a run for it, even if Rainy Day was.
> Now that she thought about it, she couldn't help noticing that the pegasus was breathing heavily and walking with her head lower than usual.
"You okay? Rainy Day? You don't look so good."
> The other mare just shook her head, but she felt something more was expected so she added: "Fine. Tired from yesterday, I guess. I'll be okay."
> Mayor Mare shrugged to herself. They were there, anyway, back at the carved stump on the river bank. She saw the scuffed sand where Willow had ran her and Rainy Day in a circle, but resolutely looked away. Instead, she followed Salki to the stump and waited while he tied Rainy Day's rope.
> It looked like she would be first this time, and it was a relief. Mayor gratefully walked into the river, even if it was chilly.
> She drank her fill, then started scooping up water with her hoof and washing out the grit and sand from her mane.
"I'm gonna be a while, sorry!" she yelled back to Rainy Day.
> There was no reply and when she looked, the other mare gave her a small nod and a smile. She was already lying on the sand under the stump and looked comfortable enough.
> Mayor focused on her mane again. It was slow going in the shallow water, but she didn't want to go any deeper if she didn't have to. The river looked fast towards the middle. More reason that them trying to escape could end badly. They were in no shape to swim that.
> There was a faint splash and she looked around. Salki had stuck his whip in the mud and dropped her rope, and now he waded out to her.
"What are you doing?"
> He didn't understand, but his intention was made plain when he scooped up some water in his paws and poured it over her back. It was so cold it stung, but it also seemed to wash some of the ache away.
"Oh. Thanks!"
> He didn't know the word, but he understood the tone and grinned at her. He lifted up more water, but this time his claws dug into her back and brushed through her fur there. It was a remarkably efficient method of washing and Mayor's esteem of the youth grew.
> Maybe they weren't all merciless hunters. If she could speak their language maybe she could negotiate for her and Rainy Day's release, if it came to that. They didn't have a real use for gold and gems, but she had seen one or two of them wear a bit of shiny crystal on a cord around their necks.
> She filed that thought away for later and focused once more on her mane while Salki washed her back. By the time she stopped pulling sand and twigs and dirt out he was done and patted her rump. She looked back and he spoke and gestured, but she didn't understand him.
"Yes, thanks! That's fine!"
> An involuntary squeak escaped her mouth when Salki simply grabbed an ear and pulled her around.She was forced to follow until she ended up facing him. He simply ignored her glare and scooped up more water.
> Mayor closed her eyes as he splashed it in her muzzle. She was about to complain, but got a mouthful of water instead. While she sputtered and blinked until her vision cleared, Salki was using his claws to gently rub the dirt from her face.
> The touch could be very soft and precise, Mayor noted. Her complaint died on her lips and she simply waited until he was done. This was a lot more efficient than she could be with her hooves. More than that, it felt nice.
> She closed her eyes and, despite the sudden guilt, let herself enjoy the touch for a moment.
> He finished by running his wet claws up to her ears and down through her mane, to make sure there was no filth left in it. He lingered for a while on her withers, but soon continued down her barrel to her forearms.
> She'd soaked long enough to be clean and now Mayor was starting to shiver in the chilly water. She nudged the youth with her muzzle.
"Come on, let's get out of the river, okay? Yavak, yavak. Let's go."
> He stood up, but had to bend once more to fish for her rope in the water. Then he flashed her a tiny smile and turned to lead her out to the stake.
> Mayor realized she wouldn't be able to lie down, or else she'd get her wet coat full of sand once more, but she was okay with standing for a while until she dried.
"Your turn, I guess," she told Rainy Day as they approached.
> "I'm fine. I didn't roll around on the ground all wet and sweaty, remember?"
"You should still drink, at least."
> The mare shrugged, but she got up to her hooves. She waited patiently as Salki tied up one rope and released the other, then followed him to the river.
> If only, Mayor Mare thought, he could be their...
> Her mouth twisted up in distaste and her ears laid back, but she had to think it. There was no way around it, at least not until that night.
> If only Salki could be their owner, rather than Willow.
> Speaking of him, or rather thinking it, seemed to have summoned the nomad. He strode to the river and frowned at Salki who was watering Rainy Day. He wasn't too pleased about it, but he didn't say anything.
> He came to a stop next to Mayor and waited until the younger nomad brought his other pony back.
> Mayor just hoped it wouldn't be more training.

> ~~~~

> Salki seemed too engrossed with Rainy Day as he led her back. He must have noticed that Willow was back, but he wasn't paying the older nomad any mind.
> That was a stupid thing to do, even Mayor Mare could see it. Willow was none too pleased that the ponies he'd left in Salki's charge had been moved without his permission. He was glaring at the youngster and Mayor didn't particularly like the look on his face.
> She wondered if there was anything she could do to warn him, but her meagre vocabulary wasn't yet up to the task. More importantly, whatever she said Willow would hear. In the end there was nothing to do but stand there and hope for the best.
> Salki was finally out of the water and seemed to notice Willow's expression for the first time. His smile slipped away and his step faltered.
> Even before his elder could ask the youth began to explain. His speech was too rapid, but Mayor thought she made out 'us' - water - and 'mori' - tied down. He was reassuring the older nomad that everything was under control.
> Willow still didn't say anything, but he held out his forepaw for Rainy Day's rope. This seemed encouraging and Salki came forward to hand the mare over.
> The slap was so sudden it made both mares jump, and so forceful it made Salki stumble back with both his claws on his face. A thin wail left his mouth and his eyes quickly filled with tears as he looked at the hunter in shock.
> Willow didn't shout, not exactly, but he spoke heatedly and it sounded angry, even if Mayor couldn't understand any of the words. He pointed at the ponies and then tapped his own chest with a claw.
> The meaning was clear. They were his and Salki didn't have permission to do anything Willing didn't explicitly command or allow.
> It went on for a while longer, with that same firm tone punctuated by more pointing at the ponies and even hefting of the spear at some point. Surely he wouldn't kill the younger nomad over this, Mayor Mare thought.
> Eventually, though, Salki nodded, spoke something which sounded like a promise and hung his head. Willow held out his hand again and the youth placed the whip in it, before turning to go.
> He cast a sad look at Mayor, one which she returned with as much sympathy as she could portray, then he was running back to the herd of donkeys and the other children, some of which were watching curiously from the distance.
> Mayor Mare hoped they hadn't overheard. Undoubtedly they would tease Salki if they knew he'd been berated.
> She put the antics of the young out of her mind when Willow untied her rope from the stump. He was holding both his spear and the whip in one claw, and their ropes in the other. This time he didn't tug them to get them moving, but rather took a step and clicked his tongue at them.
> It wasn't hard to guess the meaning. They were to move at his command.
> A flare of defiance sparked up in Mayor Mare, but the memory of her earlier beating was still too fresh. Rather than disobeying, she decided to remind the hunter she was a sapient creature.
"Yes, I get it. Za! Yavak, yavak! Let's move."
> This was unexpected enough to give him pause and he couldn't help staring at her in surprise. Mayor felt a tiny bit smug, but at the same time exasperated. He knew they could talk, and he had seen them learn words of his language.
"Yes, we can listen to you and learn, you numbskull," she said through gritted teeth which he might mistake for a smile if he wasn't watching too closely.
> "Yari mori?" he asked and shook his head in bemusement. "Irek..."
> He spoke some more, but Mayor had recognized enough. This time he'd *asked* them to come, rather than just clicked his tongue at them. She began moving away from the river, not entirely sure which way, but certain he'd make it clear.
> Indeed, a few steps later he laid his whip against her side and she turned. It looked like they were going back to the camp.
> "Wow, you can talk their language already?" Rainy Day murmured as she caught up to Mayor.
"No, not yet. I know a couple of words, but they're the important ones. I hope he'll let Salki watch us again so I can learn more."
> "He's the child, right? That's his name?"
"Yes."
> Rainy Day turned to look back to where the donkeys were making a snorting, growling, braying commotion. "He maybe isn't as bad as the rest of them," the mare admitted, but then she spotted something and her step faltered. Her muzzle turned bright red and she quickly brought her gaze back to her hooves and where she was stepping.
"What? What did you see?"
> Mayor tried looking herself, but at this distance the herd was just a mess of grayish brown. She could make lighter blobs of the children here and there, but no details.
> "They're-" Rainy Day began, but then coughed and shook her head. "I guess they really are animals. They're just... b-bucking, right there in the open!"
> The news made her own muzzle color a little, but it was none of their business so Mayor put it out of her mind. There'd be no help from the donkey herd so their antics didn't really matter.
> They'd make their escape that night anyway. She carefully tested her muscles by tensing her hind legs as she walked and found the ache slightly less than on their way to the river. There was no impeding cramp, this time.
"I just hope he doesn't have more training in mind..." she murmured, mostly to herself.
>...
> It turned out Willow didn't have training for them, but there was something else. Mayor became apprehensive when he lead them to a small clearing in the midst of tents and she spotted a jumble of rope on the ground.
> Rope and... something else.
> She slowed and her ears pinned back when she caught the scent of it, but the nomad simply yanked on her lead rope and she took the last few tentative steps.
> Rainy Day looked just as apprehensive when she caught her eye. "Mayor, what is that?"
"I think... it looks like leather."
> It wasn't a material ponies used, mostly because it was so macabre, but stories spread about what the minotaurs and griffins got up to. Mayor had never seen any up close and she had no idea how it was produced.
> She just knew what it was: dead skin.
> On the one hoof she shouldn't have been surprised, not after seeing the nomads wear animal fur for clothes, but there was something frighteningly different between the fur vests and loincloths and this- naked, dead skin.
"Hey, whoa! Wait! What are you doing with that?!" she gasped and backed away from Willow.
> He had picked some of the tangle up and tried to toss it over her back, but she dodged it and backed away as far as her rope allowed. Willow was standing on the end of the string and she considered for a moment simply yanking it.
> With luck he would lose his balance and fall, and then-
> There were a lot of other nomads around them, some watching with curiosity, others with obvious hostility. Many of them had spears. Any ill-intent would be swiftly and brutally punished.
> Mayor swallowed a lump and locked her knees in place in an effort to stop her legs from trembling.
"It's gonna be fine. M-Maybe they just want us to wear the same thing they do."
> "I'm not wearing that!"
> Mayor nearly rolled her eyes at her friend. If Willow decided to put that on them they didn't have a lot of choice. A glance at the faces around her made it clear enough. Either obedience or the cook pot.
"Just do what they say. We're getting out anyway, remember? It's just for a little while."
> Willow pulled on her rope and Mayor walked forward, head low and ears folded. She got a smack with the whip on her rump for her earlier disobedience, but she hardly flinched.
> Once again the young nomad let the stick fall, stood on her rope and picked up the mass of rope and leather.
> She nearly bolted again when the material touched her back, but it didn't burn or anything. Somehow, a part of her had half expected it.
> It wasn't that much different than cloth, except for the weight.
"It's fine. It's fine!"
> Perhaps it was to reassure Rainy Day, but Mayor suspected her words were intended for herself as well as the other mare.
> She remained still while Willow bent around and passed a couple of the straps around her barrel and belly. He fiddled with the rope for a while, then straightened up and pulled.
> She whimpered at the unexpected feeling of being gripped by leather, but it wasn't painful. The whole getup fit her pretty snugly. She still danced a few steps out of sheer nerves until Willow slapped her back with the palm of his hand.
> He barked some orders she didn't even try to understand, but luckily they weren't for her.
> Some of the other young nomads came closer with sacks in their forepaws. Mayor stared at them in confusion, but she understood when Willow placed the first one on her back.
"Oh! Oh! I get it..."
> She looked at Rainy Day and made her voice as calm as she possibly could.
"This is just so they can put stuff on us so it won't fall off. I guess they don't realize we can balance things."
> The pegasus still looked very uncomfortable at the sight, but she visibly relaxed. "Okay, so you were right. We'll just be pack ponies to them?"
"I guess. That's not too bad, right?"
> Rainy Day shrugged. "Won't matter. We're running away tonight."
"Yeah, I meant just in case we have to stay a bit longer."
> "What do you mean 'we have to stay a bit longer'?! You said we're getting away tonight when they're asleep!"
> Mayor Mare once again nearly growled in frustration. She told herself that Rainy Day wasn't stupid, she was just scared and hurt. Pegasi were known to be flighty at the best of times.
> She very nearly smiled at her own little joke.
"If they watch us the whole night we won't be able to, Rainy Day. Trust me, sooner or later they'll grow complacent. We just have to endure till then."
> Mayor glanced around the circle of faces and fell silent. By now, she guessed, the entire camp knew they could talk, but some of the nomads still looked decidedly uncomfortable about the fact.
> Luckily this new information made her friend rather subdued and she didn't say anything else. Mayor also kept her muzzle shut, rather than antagonize them further. Some of them *had* to be wondering what the two of them were talking about!
> Soon the loading up was done and Willow stepped away from her. He looked pleased with himself and jabbered something to his kinsfolk while pointing at her.
> Mayor flexed her muscles and tested the balance of her burdens. The bags on her back were securely tied and weren't going anywhere, which was good. There were some things tied to her flanks, but they felt pretty even on both sides.
> She shifted her hooves, but the burden was secure. She could walk with it and not have to worry about it falling off.
> The hunter wanted to prove that too and he tugged on her rope, very gently. Mayor took a cautious step, but the load hardly shifted so she sped up.
> Once again Willow had her trot in a circle and she guessed that was what all the training that morning had been for.
> Her muscles still ached from overuse, but the weight on her back was nothing to an earth pony and she could easily trot. After a lap or two she sped up to a canter, partly to test the balance of her burden, but also to show off a little.
> She didn't fully understand why exactly, but something in her wanted to put at least a tiny bit of awe into these bipedal primitives.
> There were murmurs and even one or two laughs as she pushed herself, but Willow wasn't amused. He yelled at her: "Zog! Zog! Zog!"
> The meaning was pretty clear, but Mayor set her lips in grim determination and continued at her current pace, if only to show him he didn't have as much control over her as he thought.
> He yelled louder and struck with his whip. Her back was protected by the burden, but her buttocks were exposed and she whinnied at the sudden, sharp pain.
> Stupid! Mayor thought to herself. You've got nothing to prove!
> She slowed and then came to a stop, while some of the nomads around laughed. One glance at Willow's face proved she'd just embarrassed him.
> Idiot. He wasn't going to do anything right now, Mayor thought, but punishment would come later. She lowered her ears and looked down at her hooves.
> Still, on the other hoof, that answered her question. He did believe her to be intelligent. Surely he wouldn't expect a dumb beast, like one of the donkeys, to perform well after one single training session?
> He'd been counting on her and Rainy Day's intelligence to show to the others just how good of a trainer he was. They'd proven him right that morning when they'd learned what to do from watching each other.
> Except now she'd gone and embarrassed him in front of what looked like the whole tribe.
"Sorry."
> He didn't understand the word, but maybe he would recognize the tone. She stood stock still as he came closer to inspect the load on her back. She didn't even move a muscle, except for breathing.
> Willow found everything to his satisfaction and stood up, talking rapidly, pointing and tugging at some of the ropes. There were appreciative murmurs from the crowd and he seemed better pleased with himself.
> Maybe this would offset his anger for her disobedience, Mayor hoped.
> The nomad beckoned and a few younger members of the tribe came forward. He quickly set them to work removing her burdens. Mayor didn't remember if they were the same ones who strapped it on, but it seemed likely.
> In any case, she just had to wait while they completed their tasks.
> Meanwhile Willow went over to Rainy Day. Her rope was just lying loose on the ground, but now he took it and dragged her closer to the center.
"There's nothing to it, Rainy Day," Mayor said, risking provoking more fear from the nomads. "Just stay still, it's not very heavy."
> There was just one problem, though. As soon as Willow dropped the harness on Rainy Day's back she whinnied in pain and reared up to shake it off.
> "My wing! Ow ow ow! No, I can't do this!" she cried.
> Mayor nearly slapped herself in the muzzle. Of course, she'd gotten so used to seeing the rope around Rainy Day's barrel that she hadn't thought about it.
> There was no way they could harness her and load her up.
> Willow tried again, hauling on the rope until the mare was dragged back to him. He barked some orders and a couple of the older hunters came forward.
> At his command, they grabbed Rainy Day, one around her neck and another gripping her rump.
> She whinnied and tried to buck the one behind her, but he dodged and yelled something out. Another nomad rushed forward and together they were able to hold the pegasus down.
> Her panting was interspersed with little whinnies of panic and her eyes showed almost all white. "Help! Mayor! Hel- OW! No! Get off me! NO!"
> She couldn't help herself and Mayor Mare rushed forward. The youngster holding her rope had no chance and she simply yanked it out of his hand. The partially untied sacks on her back fell and spilled their contents, but she paid them no mind.
"I'm here! Relax! Stop fighting!" she called.
> It wasn't working so Mayor hurried around until she was in Rainy Day's field of vision.
"Look at me! Look. It'll be fine. Stop struggling!"
> Perhaps it was her words, or maybe there was no more fight left in the other mare, because her wiggling stopped and she went perfectly still, except for her panting. Drops of spittle fell from her open muzzle and her her eyes rolled as she tried to see what the nomads were doing.
> Willow had his claw on her broken wing and gave the rope a tug, which resulted in a pained whimper. He poked at it, eliciting the same response, then grumbled something.
> A few of the other members of the tribe began to speak all at once.
> Mayor didn't know what they would do and she was getting worried. If Rainy Day couldn't work they might well decide she wasn't worth the trouble of keeping her alive.
> Maybe if she cooperated they'd be inclined to let her heal.
"Listen. Listen to me! I know it hurts, but don't try to buck them or bite them, okay? Just- I dunno, whinny if it hurts. They have to understand injuries, right? They'll leave you alone so you can heal."
> Mayor Mare wasn't sure whether her promises were any good, but it was the best she could offer her friend. Fighting the nomads would just result in them thinking she was more trouble than she was worth.
> Judging from all the skins they wore, the meat they cooked and the leather, Mayor had a sinking feeling they would easily find a different purpose for a recalcitrant mare.
"It's our only chance! Just grit your teeth and endure until we can escape!"
> Rainy Day took a deep breath, but her ears went from pinned back to merely lowered and she nodded. "Okay. Okay, I'll try."
> She hadn't been struggling for a while and the three nomads holding her were starting to let go. They stayed nearby, ready to grab her again, but Rainy Day began to breathe a little more easily when they took their paws off her.
> There was another small commotion in the crowd and Mayor looked to see the press of bodies part to let through a very old nomad.
> He looked different than the others. His skin was marked with blue and red paint in places. There were a few feathers stuck in his hair. He wore something almost like a robe, except made from fur.
> Rabbit skins, Mayor guessed with some disgust, dozens of them.
> He also had a long, thick stick with some kind of a bulb at the top. Something rattled inside each time he thumped it on the ground as he walked.
> The other nomads watched him with obvious respect, even reverence, and Mayor's spirits lifted.
> A leader! It was unmistakable! This person yielded significant power and influence among the tribe. This would have to be her target if they couldn't escape.
> He paused nearby to examine them and Mayor inclined her head in a polite bow when he looked at her.
> If her deference, especially in something he probably thought of as an animal, surprised the old man, he didn't show it. He walked closer and leaned down to examine her. A bony hand shot out and gripped her muzzle, but Mayor didn't resist.
> She kept her smile, even if it turned a little glassy, while the elder examined her muzzle, her eyes, even her ears.
> He had leaned the staff against his shoulder and was using his free claw to tug at her mane. He spoke something which made Willow hurry over and grab her mane as well.
> They both tugged at it this way and that, and Mayor had a hard time staying still.
> Eventually their interest waned and they let her go, still talking. She couldn't understand any of the words, except perhaps 'mori'. That made sense - part of the harness was still around her barrel. The elder was probably telling Willow to finish untying her, because the hunter did exactly that.
> Meanwhile the old nomad traced a finger around her cutie mark. It tickled, but Mayor tensed up her muscles to keep her leg from jerking. She didn't want to appear ready to kick.
> When that was done, the old one stood up with the help of his staff and went toward Rainy Day.
"It's okay," Mayor said just loudly enough for her friend to hear. "He just wants to examine you, same as Salki earlier. Just stay still, okay?"
> The other mare gave her a slight nod, but she spread her hooves a little as if worried she might get tackled.
> It was pretty much the same thing as with Mayor, except this time Willow didn't come over to help. The old nomad poked at Rainy Day for a bit, muttering to himself, then focused on her wing.
> He put his paws on it and the mare tensed up, but he was obviously gentler than Willow and she slowly let her breath out. Every now and then she grunted in pain, but it didn't look too bad at all.
> The elder took a stone knife from somewhere in his robe and cut the rope binding Rainy Day's wing. She whimpered as it was released from its position and the stick clattered on the ground.
> A sudden flash of inspiration struck Mayor.
"It's okay! Maybe he's like a doctor!"
> It would explain why they had called him and why he was being so careful with Rainy Day. The rest of the nomads hadn't seemed particularly worried about hurting her.
> "Okay. That's good," Rainy Day said.
> She whimpered some more at the prodding, but didn't lash out or try to pull away as the old nomad stretched her wing out. "It hurts!"
"Just bear it a little longer!"
> It didn't help. The examination must have turned rougher, because the mare whinnied loudly and jerked away, pulling her wing out of the elder's grasp.
> The other nomads stepped closer and grabbed her again, just as Mayor raised her voice.
"Calm! Remember! He's trying to help!"
> It worked and this time she didn't fight them. Her breathing quickened and she was trembling, but her captors didn't have to struggle with her.
> Once again the doctor took her wing, but he was a little more careful. It still made Rainy Day moan and weep.
> Then he did something strange and Mayor just stared in confusion. The elder straightened up and grabbed his staff. He held it so the bulbous part was just above Rainy Day's broken wing.
> He began to shake it and the things inside rattled loudly. Mayor wasn't sure what this was supposed to accomplish, but she suddenly became aware that some of the nomads around were stomping their feet in time with the rattles.
> Then...
> The closest thing she could think of was singing. The old nomad began to sing, though there didn't seem to be words in it. It consisted of groans and grunts and moans, but it was definitely rhythmical and in time with his rattle.
> Some kind of ritual? Some strange nomad magic?
> Mayor watched closely, but there was no glow as with unicorn magic.
> It didn't seem to hurt Rainy Day in any case, so they both just waited until it was over.
> Mayor wondered what else they would do. These customs were strange to her, but it was an entirely different world and she was trying to keep an open mind.
> The elder rummaged in his robe once more and brought out a large, green leaf. He held it against the spot where the wing was broken, which brought out a fresh round of whimpering from the mare.
> He kept it in place while he reached for the support stick once more and laid it against the wing on the other side.
> Then he barked some orders and Willow picked up the cut rope. Mayor thought she caught 'ols' in there, which made sense.
> Under the older nomad's directions Willow re-tied the support stick, which had Rainy Day crying and whinnying. She might have thrashed or tried to escape, but the hunters were holding her still and she had no choice.
> Soon it was done and her wing was tied to her barrel once more. She was released and hurried away from her tormentors to hide behind Mayor Mare.
> She was sweating heavily and her muzzle was sticky with tears, but Mayor paid all that no mind and put her hooves around the poor mare.
"There. It's okay. Maybe that leaf will help it heal. Maybe they have some kind of magic. Maybe that's what that was."
> Rainy Day nodded against her, smearing more of her snot and tears on Mayor's coat.
> The elder was leaving, but many of the people followed him, asking questions judging by their tone. Probably about the ponies. If he was their leader, they'd turn to him for answers.
> Meanwhile Willow whistled and Mayor couldn't keep herself from smiling when Salki ran up. The youth was still wary around the older nomad, but he looked eager as he took in whatever instructions he was being given.
> He hurried over to Mayor and Rainy Day and grabbed both their ropes. He spoke to them and Mayor understood several of his words. He was being careful to enunciate them clearly, for which she was grateful.
"Um, that was 'yavak' and 'us'. He's taking us to the water again!"
> Rainy Day nodded and got to her hooves. She still looked dazed from her ordeal, but she kept close to Mayor Mare and followed in step with her as they were led out of the camp.
"Salki? Thank you."
> He furrowed his brow as he looked at her in confusion. He didn't know those words yet. "Fankoo?" he tried to repeat.
"Thank you."
> "Fank you?"
"Close enough. Za."
> He said it to himself a few more times, but he still looked uncertain. She'd get him to understand in time, Mayor was sure.
> If they had time. Maybe they would be unguarded that night and they could make their escape.

> ~~~~

> Salki turned out to be a bit more cognizant of their privacy, but not by much. He let them both go into the bushes to do their business, but he kept hold of their ropes which meant he was pretty close by.
> It was undoubtedly the result of Willow's berating earlier, Mayor Mare thought. He was afraid to let them far out of his sight, even if he was inclined to trust them slightly.
> Not as jaded as the older nomads, at least that was how it seemed. She was beginning to understand a little.
> These people lived without much comfort and worked more or less constantly just to survive. This land was hard and unforgiving, which in turn made them even harder.
> It still wasn't fair, but Mayor understood a little bit. Seeing the other creature's point of view was part of diplomacy, after all.
> Her musing was interrupted when they finally made it to the river. Given the chill in the air, Salki opted to stand on the shore while the two mares waded in a little bit to get at the non-muddy water.
> With the sun nearly gone and twilight on the way the water felt even colder than she remembered and Mayor wanted to be out of it as soon as possible. She drank quickly, then returned to the shore.
> Rainy Day, however, stayed in the river, deep enough for it to splash against her belly every now and then.
"Are you okay?"
> The other mare wasn't drinking, even though her head was hanging low and her muzzle was nearly touching the water. She flicked an ear in Mayor's direction, but didn't look. "Give- give me a minute. I need to catch my breath."
> She sounded particularly defeated and it sparked a nagging worry in Mayor Mare.
"Isn't it chilly? Come on, drink and get out before you catch a cold or something," Mayor pleaded.
> "Yeah. It feels-" Rainy Day began, but lost her train of thought and took a sip. "It's nice."
> That sounded extra worrying and Mayor made a decision. She plunged back, gritting her teeth to keep them from clattering, and waded out to Rainy Day. She was a little shorter than the other mare and that meant her belly was thoroughly soaked by the time she reached her.
> The icy cold of the river felt like knives plunging into her flesh.
"Come on!"
> Lacking any other options, she grabbed Rainy Day's rope in her teeth and gave it a gentle pull. Just an encouragement.
"Come! Let's get out!"
> "No, no," Rainy Day said dreamily. "Just a minute longer. I need to cool off!"
> Mayor grimaced and stepped closer so she could press her muzzle against Rainy Day's. The poor thing was burning up!
"You've got a fever. We need to get you out and keep you warm. Come, please!"
> Unfortunately her friend wasn't listening. She'd lowered her head once more to take another sip, but now her legs were buckling and she simply laid down in the river. A sigh of relief escaped her.
"No! Get up!"
> Mayor had lost the rope and it was now under water. It was too dark to see it, so she just went around Rainy Day and tried to nudge her upright. She heard Salki calling from the bank, but she ignored him for now.
"Get up! Up! On your hooves and out of here!"
> Even her most commanding tone did nothing. She couldn't physically lift Rainy Day, not with her hooves alternatively sticking and slipping on the muddy riverbed.
"Salki! Salki! Pull us out! Pull! Um, uh-"
> Mayor sought for a combination of words which may add up to what she needed to tell him. Maybe if she told him to come and go at the same time, and threw 'rope' in there as well? Surely he'd figure out what she wanted, because he probably wanted the same thing.
"Um, irekh, yavak, ols!"
> His quick reply was obviously a confused question, probably asking her if she lost her mind. In desperation, Mayor stood up and lifted her own rope on a hoof.
"Pull us in! Ols, irekh! Make us come with the rope! Come on, you're not stupid!"
> Finally something clicked and Salki called out: "Tatakh?"
> He didn't wait for her confirmation and dug his feet into the sand. The pressure around her neck was suddenly very welcome and Mayor scrambled with her hooves in the river mud to help push her friend too.
> It nearly toppled Rainy Day into the water completely, but the pegasus instinctively stood to stay upright. "Hey!"
"Come on. We're going out!"
> After the water Mayor winced as the faint breeze in the air cut through her sodden coat. She was shivering and she could hardly feel her hooves, but she kept one leg around her friend to guide her.
> Salki's pulling on the rope really helped, especially with Rainy Day, who had let her head hang down once more and didn't seem to much care what was happening to her. At least, Mayor thought, she kept walking.
> Pretty soon they were on the bank and now they were both shivering.
"B-B-Buck... we need to g-g-go back! Um..."
> She didn't know the word for fire, nor one for warmth, but surely Salki could see the state they were in?
"Salki? Yavak, yavak! We need to go!"
> He answered with something, but began to move. It took a bit of pulling on her lead rope and a few gentle prods to her rear to get Rainy Day to move, but eventually she did.
> Mayor stayed at her side and nuzzled her every now and then to get her moving, even as her mind raced.
> If she had a fever that bad it could be one of two things: her broken wing was getting infected, or she'd caught some strange, new disease from this unfamiliar world.
> The later was unlikely, since they'd been through pretty much the same things and Mayor felt fine. Maybe her earth pony constitution was to thank for that, but she didn't think so.
> Her wing was the more likely culprit and the realization sent fresh chills down her spine, chills which had nothing to do with her wet coat and biting wind.
> Rainy Day needed a doctor. A proper medical professional. The nomads' magic was obviously ineffective, at least on ponies. Her friend needed a hospital.
"Buck, this is b-b-bad..."
> She clamped her mouth shut to keep her teeth from chattering. At minimum, she needed help and right now there was only one person who could give it.
"S-Sa-Salki? What was that word you used? Um, before. Tak-tak? Ols, tak-tak?"
> He chuckled and said: "Tatakh." To prove his point he gave her rope a little demonstrative tug.
"Ah, tatakh. Okay. Got it."
> Each new word was useful, but this one not immediately so. She needed to ask for blankets and a fire, but didn't know how. She didn't even know how to tell him they were cold.
> Hopefully, he saw. If not, if he still thought of them as animals, maybe he wouldn't immediately give them over to Willow when they reached the camp. Perhaps she could mime it to him.
> Mayor Mare tried to think up some gestures to convey what they needed even as she kept nudging Rainy Day along. Each touch of her muzzle on the other mare made her worry a little bit more. She was burning up despite her wet coat.

> ~~~~

> Eventually, through great effort, Mayor Mare got her friend back to the nomad camp and the place they had spent the previous night.
> The air kept gradually cooling and both of them were shivering violently by the time Salki tied their rope to what appeared to be a new stake hammered into the ground.
> Much to her relief, Mayor couldn't see Willow anywhere and the rest of the people were mostly ignoring her. Very few of them were out of their tents anyway.
> It was promising and if Rainy Day weren't so weak this would have been the perfect opportunity to escape. Mayor still considered it, but a single glance at her friend disabused her of that notion.
> Rainy Day was sitting on her haunches, with her good wing wrapped as far around her as it would go, but to no avail. She was trembling and pressing against Mayor Mare's side.
"Wait!"
> Salki stopped and looked back.
"Please. You have to give us something. Blankets? Fire? We're freezing to death!"
> If only they had some warmth for a short while, Mayor thought, so their coats could dry off. Their fur would protect them, even if it wouldn't be very comfortable. Rainy Day's delirium in the river might have cost them their lives.
> The young nomad didn't understand her words and his reply was mostly unintelligible to her. She caught 'nam gum', but it wasn't a phrase she knew.
> Then Salki left them alone, ignoring when she called after him. It felt like a betrayal and Mayor had to remind herself that he wasn't their friend. He was one of their captors.
> She shouldn't let herself get blinded by small kindness when they'd foalnapped them and dragged them off to this chilly world. Even if he was the nicest of the nomads, he was still one of them.
> There was nothing else to do; Mayor put her hooves around Rainy Day and tried to keep the other mare warm with her body. Their wet fur meshed together unpleasantly, but she endured, hoping it would dry out before they died.
> "It's c-c-c-old," the other mare complained as she sought around Mayor Mare's neck with her muzzle. "Oh, Celestia, it's cold!"
"I know. I'm sorry, but we'll just have to endure."
> The sun was well under the horizon now and the shadows were deepening. Mayor thought she could see stars beginning to show above, but it was hard to tell with her blurry vision.
> Night would be long and dangerous. She looked around for any grass or hey, or something to cover them at least a little. There was nothing. What little grass there was, it had been cropped short by the donkeys.
> The donkeys!
> Maybe they could mingle with them and get some warmth! It was rude, awkward and distasteful, but perhaps it was their only chance. They might get kicked, or bitten, but she was willing to take her chances.
> Unless...
> Mayor Mare looked around at the rest of the nomad camp. Most of their fires were going out, untended as the people retreated to their tents, but she could see faint glows of dying embers.
> Maybe those would last long enough for their fur to dry?
> She inspected the stake to which they were tied, but it was much like the one in the field. A young tree trunk with a groove cut into it for the rope and hammered into the tough, packed dirt.
> With her normal strength she could probably pull it out, but her legs still hurt from the unaccustomed exercise and she was feeling weak from the poor fodder they were given.
> It'd be easier to chew through the rope. All she needed was for some more of the nomads to go to sleep. Soon. There might be punishment in the morning when Willow found what she'd done, but at least they'd make it till then.
"Just hold on for an hour, Rainy Day. I'll get us some warmth when they've gone to bed, okay?"
> She couldn't tell if her friend nodded, or if it was just her shivering, but whether Rainy Day had heard or not, there was nothing they could do until the camp quietened down some more.
> Mayor closed her eyes and tried to relax. The shivering wasn't doing her poor muscles much good.
> A nearby rustle made her lift her head and look. A shadow was approaching them, but it was smaller than most of the nomads. Mayor sought around for the scent and almost smiled when she realized who it was.
"Salki!"
> The youth was coming back and the reason she hadn't recognized his outline was because he was carrying something big in his forelegs.
> He came to them and deposited his burden on the ground beside them. As she inspected it, Mayor's relief withered away and she almost gagged.
> Animal skins, somehow treated so they didn't rot, but still stinking of death and dried blood.
"What? Why did you bring this?"
> Rather than answering a question he probably didn't understand, Salki picked up one of the pieces from the pile and spread it out. It was grotesque with the flaps which must have been legs at some point and a stub of a tail.
> Donkey, Mayor thought in horror and revulsion. If she had been able to lie to herself up to now, this would have disproved it. These people ate animals and used their skins as clothing.
> Rainy Day looked up and her breath caught as she gagged. For a moment Mayor was worried she might throw up, but luckily it didn't come. The other mare focused her eyes on the ground and swallowed a few times as she tried to keep control of her stomach.
> Salki was saying something as he brought the thing closer and both ponies shot to their hooves to get away. This reaction seemed to surprise him and he stopped.
"Look, I know what you're- gah!"
> She'd forgotten her belly was still completely wet and pressing it against the ground had actually managed to warm it a bit. Now, the night air cut like a steel knife, making both mares draw air through their teeth.
> "Buck that's cold!"
> Maybe they didn't have a choice? Her stomach nearly turned, but Mayor let her head drop.
"We have to..." she murmured.
> "What?"
"We don't have a choice. We might die if it gets much colder, Rainy Day. We're wet and we're not drying out fast enough."
> The other mare pulled away and exposed another bit of wet fur to the elements, which only served to reinforce Mayor's determination. "You're crazy! That's somepony's skin! They killed a donkey and *took their skin off*!"
> Mayor Mare swallowed a lump at the unfortunately vivid image in her mind. She was starting to shiver badly once again and Rainy Day didn't look much better off. Her pegasus fluff and feathers didn't help now that she was wet.
"It's either that or we die too."
> That shut Rainy Day up and she stared at Mayor in abject terror. "D-Die?"
"You're sick, Rainy Day. I think your wing is infected. You have a fever and you're soaking wet, and it's night. It feels like winter."
> She drew a deep breath and then said the hard truth:
"If you don't do this, you'll probably die before morning."
> Mayor Mare suddenly realized she'd said 'you', not 'we'. Was it true? She focused inward, on her own body. It was shivering, but she wasn't quite as wet as Rainy Day. She hadn't wallowed in the river, so it was mostly her legs and belly.
> It would be cold as Tartarus and she'd be miserable, but she'd probably live. She'd likely catch a horrible cold, which might eventually turn to pneumonia. Untreated, left in this cold every night, Mayor didn't like her own chances over the long term either.
> Rainy Day already had a bad fever and her broken bone was probably infected. She was in serious danger if she didn't get warm soon. Mayor could see that even without being any sort of a doctor.
"I know it's gross and wrong, but we don't have a choice. Come on."
> There was no reply, but Rainy Day slumped a little and Mayor saw it for what it was. Defeat. She'd go along.
> When she approached Salki, her friend came with her.
> He grinned at them and nodded in encouragement. He placed the skin on the ground, fur side up, then patted it for them to walk on it.
> It felt incredibly wrong, but Mayor put a hoof on the awful thing. It was eerie, feeling fur very similar to that of ponies, except rougher, but no warmth. It felt like touching a corpse.
> She made herself walk forward and gave Rainy Day an encouraging smile.
"Think of it like a weird rug, okay?"
> The other mare nodded, closed her eyes, and walked forward. They stood, shivering from a mixture of cold and disgust, until Salki patted the skin again and spoke something.
"Kev-tekh?"
> "Za! kevtekh, za!" he replied and patted the ground a few more times. He sat, completely unconcerned with the macabre nature of his impromptu carpet.
"That's probably 'sit', or 'lie down'. I'll try to remember."
> She doubted she would, not preoccupied like this, but committing a new word to memory was a welcome distraction and Mayor repeated it to herself a few times.
> Rainy Day whispered: "I'm sorry," and simply folded down. After a moment Mayor realized she must have been talking to the previous owner of the skin. Both of them were still shivering and she tried to follow her friend's example.
> She couldn't quite make herself lie, but she sat, pressing as close to Rainy Day as she could.
> In moments Salki was back with another skin, which he swung and draped around them. Mayor's own flesh felt as if it was trying to crawl away from touching it, but she made herself sit still.
> Very soon their cover trapped some heat and she felt a lot warmer. As her limbs woke up from their cold-induced numbness she began to shiver in earnest.
> Rainy Day wasn't doing any better and finally Mayor folded down to cuddle her ill friend as best she could.
> Weird how, after a few minutes, after the warmth started to creep in, the disgust faded. She still hated what they were doing, but she no longer wanted to throw up.
> Salki was saying something, but Mayor couldn't focus well anymore. She was concentrating on keeping herself as still as possible, so her shaking didn't lift the- the 'blanket', she decided to call it, and let in cold air.
> The skin pulled up and she reached with a foreleg, thinking the wind had picked up. It was only Salki and he settled down with them. His foreleg went around her barrel and he gasped as her wet fur pressed against bare skin.
> He persisted though, and soon his warmth began to penetrate to her freezing core. Mayor couldn't hold back a sigh of relief.
> She turned her head so she could look at her nomad saviour, but it was dark and all she could see was the lump of his head and the mess of his mane.
"T-T-Thank y-you."
> He replied something and she pushed her nose to touch his.
> One more day of rest, she decided. No river before bed. If the nomads left them alone with that flimsy rope and hasty stake, she'd get them free in a snap and they'd sneak away the next night.
"Rainy Day?"
> "Mm?"
"Rest and try to get well. We're in no shape to escape tonight, but it looks like they won't guard us. We can get away tomorrow night, okay?"
> "'kay. What about him?"
> Mayor thought about it. Would she be able to kick Salki down? Knock him out, maybe kill him? In exchange for her freedom?
> Maybe it wouldn't come to that.
"He only came back tonight because he saw we were suffering. He'll leave us alone tomorrow too. We're just novelty and they are already growing bored of us. Business as usual."
> "I h-hope you're right."
"Me too."
> What Mayor didn't talk about was her fear. Maybe Salki had come back because Willow had set him to watch the ponies overnight. She was also aware of a few other nomads walking around the camp, even though it was dark now.
> Did they post guards? Given their warrior-like nature, it wouldn't be much of a stretch.
> Maybe they seemed complacent because they were sure they'd catch them in an escape attempt. After all, the donkeys weren't really guarded and from what Mayor had seen, they weren't even tied down.
> She'd keep her eyes open. The important thing was that Rainy Day got better. With luck, her fever would break and her body would fight off the infection. She had to, or else there was no way she could walk all the way back to the portal and then cross the Everfree forest to Ponyville.
> Once again she thought about leaving her behind. Maybe if she ran away alone, she could bring back help in time?
> Only as a last resort, Mayor Mare decided. She closed her eyes and sought sleep. She'd need her strength in the coming days.

> ~~~~

> Mayor Mare woke up with a small gasp as cold air intruded into her little bubble of warmth between Rainy Day and Salki. She reached blindly for the covers and found nothing.
> She had to blink her eyes a few times to clear her vision, but then she saw what was happening. The young nomad had slid away. He was sitting on the edge of their... carpet and stretching out his arms.
"Salki?"
> He reached out a forepaw and patted her muzzle. She didn't understand what he was saying, but she understood there was some urgency in his tone. He pointed at her, then at Rainy Day and gestured with his arms.
"What is it?"
> Eventually he got an idea to grab the edge of the hide under them and tug it, still talking in hushed tones. He jumped to his feet, extended his arms and kept on talking.
"Slow down, I don't understand you!"
> That much was clear to him and he dropped back to his knees beside her. He tucked his claws under her head and tried to lift her up. This she understood. They had to get up, even if she didn't know why.
"Fine. What was that word? Bos?"
> He nodded emphatically and jabbered some more, but he also repeated the word. "Bos! Bos! Nam gum! Bos!" All the while he kept gesturing up with his arms.
> Mayor turned a little and got her hooves under her. She braced herself for more cold air, but her coat was dry and it wasn't too bad, even in the pre-dawn chill.
> She sought out her friend with her muzzle and gave Rainy Day a good nudge.
"Wake up. Something's happening. Rainy Day?"
> The other mare didn't even stir. A momentary spike of panic leadened Mayor's limbs, but she saw her chest rise and gave a gasp of relief. For an instant she had been afraid Rainy Day had died in her sleep.
"Wake up! Come on!"
> More cold air enveloped them both as Salki simply lifted their blanket. He crudely folded it a couple of times and dropped it on the short, dew-laden grass next to them.
> At long last Rainy Day stirred, but all she did was flick her ear and groan. Mayor pressed her muzzle to her friend's.
"Dear Celestia, you still have a fever. Buck, we need a doctor. What do I do?"
> Dark despair threatened to overwhelm her and for a moment Mayor Mare was ready to give up. Things just kept going wrong and getting worse.
> She sat on her haunches next to her friend and let her head hang down.
> Salki's tug on her mane brought her out. "Bos!" he said, followed by something she didn't get, then a word she knew: "yavak!"
> He wanted them up and away. Her breath caught. Was he getting them to escape?!
"Yavak?" she repeated.
> Salki spoke and gestured some more and her heart sank.
"Oh, *you* have to go away."
> It was probably a good idea. He didn't want Willow to find him, or see that he had helped the ponies through the night. She couldn't understand why Willow was so intent on proving he could be heartless, but that was how it was.
> If she wanted to keep getting Salki's help, she'd have to return the favor and keep him from getting caught.
> There was still the problem of Rainy Day's fever. An irrational hope gripped her and Mayor took Salki's arm with her hooves.
"Here. Feel. Here."
> She pulled him closer and he didn't fight her as she laid his palm on Rainy Day's head.
"Feel that? Damn it, I don't know the word for hot. Here, now come here!"
> He remained passive as she shifted his touch to her own muzzle.
"Feel the difference?"
> She moved his paw between them a few times to make sure he would notice the difference, then pointed at Rainy Day and mimed coughing.
> A look of sympathy crossed Salki's features and Mayor Mare knew he understood.
"Yes! She's ill. We have to do something!"
> The silver lining of the moment was that the other mare was roused from her deep sleep by all the touching and prodding. She opened one eye and sought around until she focused on her friend.
> "M-Mayor? I'm c-cold..."
> She was already shivering and Mayor lay down to press her flank against her friend's. It wasn't much, but it was the best they could do.
"Sun will be up soon. It'll get warmer. Come on, you have to stand. Salki needs to take the- the blankets."
> Rainy Day looked down on the surface underneath her. She blinked and her breath caught as she recognized it, but then she sagged. "Oh. Yes. I remember."
> Her disgust probably helped and she struggled up to her hooves. She wasn't too steady, but with Mayor supporting her she was able to make those few steps. Her legs trembled a little, but she was stable.
> "Mayor? I'm- I'm sorry," she began, but Mayor shushed her up.
"It's not your fault! You have a broken wing and it's probably infected. If anything, I'm sorry. I don't know how to help."
> Rainy Day shook her head, but that nearly unbalanced her and she froze. "No, no... not that. I'm- mmmph!"
> That last was a sigh of relief, followed by splashing of liquid on grass. It was coming from behind Rainy Day and Mayor suddenly understood. Her face heated up a little, but she couldn't find very much embarrassment.
"It's fine. Don't worry about it."
> Despite her encouragement, Rainy Day kept on talking: "I c-couldn't hold it. I don't think I could make it to the bushes. I'm... Mayor, I'm tired."
> It was probably the fever. Thankfully, the stream stopped soon after. Even more importantly, it missed the blanket which Salki had picked up and folded with the other.
> He already had the bundle in his arms and was telling them something, but Mayor didn't understand so she just nodded at him.
> It was enough and the young nomad left in a brisk walk.
> As he was leaving, Rainy Day let her head hang down until her muzzle nearly touched the ground. It looked as if she would simply fold back down.
> The good news was that they were both dry and day wasn't too far off. The better news was that there was no dew on the grass which had been covered with the blanket, so lying there would be uncomfortable but no longer dangerous.
"No, not here. It's wet!" Mayor reminded her.
> She led Rainy Day a few steps away and picked a patch of what looked like slightly thicker grass which was still dry. They didn't have a lot of range with the rope around their necks, but there was some choice at least.
"Here. Lie down. Rest. We'll explain to Willow you can't work today. Maybe they'll call their doctor back."
> "The- the one with the rattle?"
"Yeah. It wasn't too effective, but maybe he has some other stuff he can try."
> Rainy Day twisted her neck to look more closely at her wing. "He gave me a leaf," she mumbled.
"I saw. I guess it didn't do the job. Maybe their magic doesn't work on ponies or something."
> Her friend didn't have a response to that and just went to lay her head down on her forelegs, but she paused and scrunched her muzzle in concentration. She was staring directly at Mayor Mare.
"What?"
> Rainy Day blinked, then shook her head. "Nothing. It's just- it's not important."
"Tell me."
> Making her talk was waking Rainy Day up. She seemed more lucid by the minute and Mayor wanted to keep it up. With luck, her friend would feel well enough to walk to the river for a drink and maybe to crop some grass.
> She needed to keep her strength up and it would take a lot of that low-quality food.
> "I guess the Foal Free Press was right. You do dye your mane."
"Huh?!"
> Rainy Day shook her head again, but now there was a small smile on her lips. "Your roots are showing, Mayor. I guess you'll go back to your natural color."
> She'd completely forgotten in the bustle! Mayor tried to cover her head with her hooves, but of course there was no use.
"Oh!"
> She remembered the previous day when their nomad doctor and Willow were so interested in her mane. They must have seen it too!
> Mayor was mortified. Nopony had seen her with her natural mane color in years! It was such a vivid color, too! Completely unbehooving a government official!
> She closed her eyes and forced herself to take a deep breath. It didn't matter. She wasn't in Ponyville and she didn't really care that much what her foalnappers thought. Why was this so embarrassing?
> "It's okay. It doesn't matter," Rainy Day was going on. "Actually, I think pink would look good on you. It'd go well with your eyes. You should consider keeping it when we get back."
> Mayor Mare let her breath out and slumped.
"You're right. It doesn't matter."
> She still blushed a little while Rainy Day kept looking. She was about to say something, but Salki came hurrying back.
"Salki?"
> He mumbled something and waved. He didn't have his bundle of skins, but Mayor saw he had more on his body. He obviously felt the cold more keenly than them.
> She watched as he sat on the ground near them and settled down for what looked like a long wait.
"Why are you here? I thought you didn't want Willow to find you."
> Of course he didn't understand and just stared at her blankly for a moment. Then he said: "Ay aw you?"
> It didn't sound like the nomads' speech and Mayor leaned her head to one side in curiosity. What was he trying to say?
> Salki shook his head and repeated: "Wai ar you?"
> She suddenly realized he was trying to imitate her own words! That was interesting, but unfortunately she had no way yet to explain pronouns and a question like 'why'.
"No, no. Um, ugu. Let's try something else."
> Rainy Day talking about her mane had reminded her and she decided to get the words for a few body parts. It might come in useful later.
> She sat up, held out one leg and tapped her free hoof against it.
"Leg," she said as clearly as she could pronounce it.
> "Lek?"
"Leg."
> "Leg."
> She smiled and nodded, then gave him what she hoped was a questioning look. She tapped her hoof against her leg again, but this time didn't speak.
> Salki understood. He said: "Khol".
"Za! Leg. Khol. Good!"
> A vocabulary would help. Mayor didn't care if her grammar was completely crap. If she knew enough nouns, she could communicate with them. Salki was willing to both teach her and learn her own language, which was an added bonus.
> She was still tired from all the activity over the past few days and her muscles still ached with fatigue, but her excitement masked all the discomfort.
> Beside her Rainy Day murmured: "Wake me up when we have to go."
"Sure. Rest. Hopefully your fever will break."
> Then she looked at Salki again and lifted both hooves to the sides of her head.
"Head."

> ~~~~

> The good news was that Willow didn't intend any training that day. In fact, to Mayor Mare's surprise, the young hunter seemed almost pleasant to Salki when he came to check on them that morning.
> He even smiled and said some things which sounded downright encouraging. In response, Salki jabbered something back, bowed his head, flashed the ponies a grin and ran off. It was confusing until Mayor realized he'd probably been set to watch them all night by himself.
> After that Willow spent a bit of time fussing around Rainy Day, during which he prodded at her wing. When she whimpered and drew away he stopped, obviously giving up on it.
> There was no punishment, though. If anything, he seemed excited and preoccupied, which was why Mayor had worried he had some weird new training in mind for them.
> She had been wrong. Willow took them to the river to drink, then to the patch of grass to feed. He stood nearby, at ease, while he waited.
> Once or twice Mayor tried getting him to teach her a new word or two, but despite showing some slight surprise that she knew a few words of his language, he didn't seem inclined to help her out.
> Mayor couldn't spend a lot of time on that anyway. The all-grass diet was starting to hit her and she felt lethargic and depressed. She'd have to eat a whole lot of it to make up for the rich, Ponyville diet to which her body was used.
> Worryingly, Rainy Day didn't seem hungry at all. She nibbled at some of the softer-looking grass, but it wasn't nearly enough for what her body needed, especially with her fever.
> Rainy Day simply said she was tired and wasn't hungry. She lay down in the sun to rest and ignored Mayor's urging to eat. It wasn't good, but other than asking Willow to force feed her friend, or doing it herself, Mayor didn't see any way to make her.
> She put that notion aside as a last resort and focused on herself. She filled her belly as best she could and tried to ignore the slightly bitter taste of old grass.
> That took about an hour and more than once Mayor Mare wondered why Willow was being so patient with them.
> Only when the sun was a hoofs-width above the horizon did the nomad untie them from the stake, shouldered his spear and led them back to the camp. Mayor Mare wondered idly what would go wrong that day. So far it hadn't been too bad.
>...
> Her intuition proved correct when they drew nearer to the tents and she saw the bustle of activity.
"Huh? Why are they taking them down?"
> Rainy Day looked up and blinked in surprise. "What's happening?"
> Mayor glanced at Willow, but he didn't seem surprised by what the people were doing. He'd obviously known about it. She glanced around and saw a sight which instantly made her uncomfortable.
"They've tied the donkeys together and they're loading them up!"
> The harness of the previous day was starting to make sense. Mayor even began to understand why Willow had rushed so quickly with their 'training'. He must have known they would move.
> They passed groups of nomads dismantling their tents and Mayor Mare's step faltered. She'd caught glimpses of the inside before, but the white things she had assumed were some kind of wood weren't all wood.
> She was sure some of those curved pieces were ribs, although the animal they came from must have been huge!
> Hopefully Rainy Day wasn't paying close attention. She was still very uneasy about the skins, even after last night, so learning about this new horror was something Mayor wanted to spare her friend, at least for now.
> Willow led them to the back of the line of donkeys and got some youngsters to hold their ropes while he left, presumably to see to his own tent.
> This gave Mayor some time to observe. The nomads, their name seeming more and more appropriate, built tents out of slim branches and bones to provide structure, and leather or animal skins as the main material.
> The inside was relatively simple, with a pit dug in the middle and surrounded by stones for the fire. There was an opening in the roof directly above so the smoke could go out.
> Other than that, the tents were cluttered with various items - stone and bone tools, pieces of hide and leather, and weapons. The beds, as far as Mayor could see, were just animal skins, sometimes with some dry grass underneath to make them more comfortable.
> Coming from a civilized place like Equestria, the conditions seemed like utmost squalor to her.
> The important fact about their lifestyle was that it was simple to pack up and go. Seeing how they lived, their meat diet and the fact that they used animal skins and bones, Mayor guessed they had to move often to follow the wild herds of whatever it was they hunted. Some of it was pretty large, too.
> She wondered for a few moments why the animals didn't simply band together and put a stop to this nomad menace, but then she remembered the donkeys. Maybe all the animals on this world were mindless?
> Another thought occurred to Mayor. She'd have to keep watch on their surroundings and remember the way back. Chances were the nomads would move in a direction away from the portal and she had to be able to find their way back home.
> On the plus side, maybe the general confusion and commotion of the big move would enable them to slip away more easily. She turned to Rainy Day and brought her face closer.
"How are you feeling?"
> Her friend didn't reply immediately, maybe taking stock of her own body and the fever. Then she shook her head. "I'm tired, Mayor. So tired. My wing hurts bad. I'm sorry."
"Nothing to be sorry for," Mayor reassured her. "Maybe we'll be able to slip away in the confusion. It looks like the nomads are moving house."
> Rainy Day glanced around the rapidly vanishing camp and nodded. "I'll try. I'm with you. If I can't- just leave me and go, okay? Save yourself."
> It was a noble gesture, but Mayor firmly put the thought out of her head.
"No. We're going together or not at all. We're both going to make it, Rainy Day. I promise."
> She got a grateful smile in return and a quick nuzzle. "Thanks. I don't wanna die. I think- maybe I'm getting better. The fever isn't as bad as last night."
> If so, it was good news, but Mayor wasn't too sure. It was hard to tell without a thermometer, but Rainy Day felt about as hot as last night. At least she wasn't delirious, so maybe that was a good sign.
> The main reason she felt better was most likely because the day was warmer.
> Their time for talking was over, because Willow was back and he had plans for them. He took the ropes and tied Rainy Day's to the loop around Mayor's neck. That meant he only had to hold the one in order to lead both mares deeper into the bustling camp.
> Mayor noticed that most of the curiosity about them was gone, especially with how busy they all were. Even the children were set to work, untying the ropes which held tent struts together, or folding skins, or packing various small items into leather bags.
> Most of the crude dwellings were already reduced to small piles of material. All that was left was trampled, muddy ground, dotted with fire pits. She noted that the encircling rocks were left behind.
> It made sense. There was no real reason to haul heavy stones across the land if they were easy to find. Maybe the nomads would return here, or another group would, and they would just use the same stones again. Maybe even the same pits.
> Willow stopped them in front of a torn-down tent and she saw two other nomads working on the materials. Both of them were female, but one of them was older and the other about Salki's age.
> The older one was probably Willow's mother, or maybe his grandmother. Most likely not wife, Mayor decided. The younger one might have been his sister or his daughter, although if that was so, there were no signs of her mother, Willow's wife.
> Guessing at these nomads' ages was hard. The older female didn't yet have any white in her hair, but her face was hard and wrinkled. Maybe past her middle years, but not yet a grandmother. The younger one was smooth-faced, thin and about as tall as Salki.
> Mayor Mare watched as the three of them spoke and then the child began tying their bundle of skins together with rope. Willow went to gather up the wooden sticks and the bones which made up the framework for their tent, while the older female finished packing strips of what looked like dried meat.
> Both mares grimaced at that, but none of the nomads seemed to notice.
> Pretty soon Willow dug out the same harness Mayor had practiced with the previous day and brought it over to her. It was a small relief to see that he only had the one. He wasn't going to make Rainy Day carry a load, not with her broken wing.
> She caught a few glances Willow cast at the other mare and if she had to put an emotion to them, Mayor would call them 'cross'. He wasn't too pleased that one of his beasts of burden wasn't able to work.
> Unfortunately Mayor didn't yet have enough of their language to apologize on Rainy Day's behalf, so she just stood there and waited as calmly as she was able while the young hunter wrapped the leather around her and tied it together.
> Soon she was harnessed and all three nomads began to load their gear on her back. The bundle of sticks came first and they spent quite some time to make sure it was balanced and secure.
> After that came the bones and it was at that point Rainy Day noticed and whinnied in alarm. "Are those... Mayor, those are rib bones! Mayor!"
"Hush. I know. It's okay."
> Unfortunately Rainy Day couldn't calm down and she kept backing away until her rope went taut and jerked Mayor's head to the side. That made her sidestep to keep her balance, but a bundle of skins wasn't yet tied securely and flopped to the ground.
"Stop! For Celestia's sake, stop panicking!"
> It was too late. The slight mishap brought out Willow's anger at Rainy Day's broken wing and he grabbed the first thing he could find; a thin strip of leather.
> "No! Wait! What's he doing? Stop! AAH!"
> A slap sounded as Willow hit the mare on the rump and several of the nearby nomads glanced over at the noise. None of them seemed particularly interested and they went back to their work.
> Rainy Day was trying to back away some more, but that was dragging Mayor aside. In the end she simply had to dig her hooves in and stop.
"Rainy Day!" she called out to her panicking friend. "Stop or it's going to get worse! Just- stop."
> Willow hurried around to the other side and delivered another good smack with the leather. It had the desired effect and Rainy Day scurried away from him and ran to Mayor's side.
> She wanted to catch her friend in her hooves and comfort her, but if she sat her burden might slip and that would earn them both further beating. The best Mayor could do was press her side to her friend's and nuzzle her, much as a mother would her foal.
"Hush. It's okay. Just relax. I know, they use bones and skins and eat animals. It's bad, but panicking won't help!"
> It finally got through to her and Rainy Day sagged a little. Unfortunately Willow was on his way and he still had that angry look in his eye.
"He'll hit you again. Just- take it, okay? If you fight back or try to run, you'll just make it worse!"
> Rainy Day tensed up and her ears went completely flat, but she gave Mayor a nod as she braced herself.
> Luckily Willow just wanted to land one last slap, which elicited a quiet whinny from the mare, then he was satisfied. He grumbled something and his mother answered, then they went on with the business of loading Mayor Mare with their possessions.
> There was too much stuff for her, so they divided some of it up between themselves. It looked practiced and they were used to carrying all their belongings like that. Mayor guessed that was how they did it before Willow had captured her and Rainy Day.
> Maybe they were too poor to have donkeys? A quick glance around showed that many of the people had to carry their stuff on their backs.
> There weren't enough beasts of burden for them all, it seemed. Maybe that was why they had invaded Equestria. Would they go back for more ponies?
> Mayor Mare's throat constricted. She didn't want any more of her people taken like that!
> The problem was that she had no way of stopping it, other than to escape and go warn them. It made it all the more important for them to get free.
> It also made her think once more about the decision to leave Rainy Day behind. With how jittery and panicky the other mare was, it would only be a matter of time before Willow killed her in a fit of rage.
> Was Mayor Mare willing to abandon one of her ponies to death so she could save others?
> The decision was too much for her. She couldn't make that call! She needed an alicorn.
> Unfortunately there wasn't one, not on this whole world probably. It was up to her.
> Maybe Rainy Day's fever would get better during the day. Maybe they'd be able to slip away that night.
> She had to remember the way back.
> Mayor looked around and committed the landmarks to memory. Those hills, lightly covered by forest were the way to the portal. The river marking the other side of the flat valley. The firepit-dotted ground where the nomad camp stood.
> She had to remember which way they left. Mayor glanced at the sun, which was on its way up. It was still near the spot it had risen from. That way was East. She fixed the direction in her mind.
"Rainy Day?"
> She spoke as quietly as she dared, but the other mare was standing a few steps away, pushed there as the nomads were loading Mayor up. "Yes?"
"Look around. Remember the landmarks. When we escape, we have to remember the way back. I know where to go from here to the portal, but I'll need your help. Okay?"
> To her relief, Rainy Day began looking around the horizon with a look of concentration on her muzzle. "Okay, I think I got it."
"Good. Keep looking. Remember the direction we're travelling. We'll need that famous pegasus orientation to get back."
> "Okay, okay. I'm on it."
> It seemed that giving her something to do was a good thing. This way Rainy Day had things to focus on; useful things, rather than her fears and worries.
> The loading was nearly done and there was nothing left on the ground. The younger female took Mayor's leading rope and she peered curiously in her eyes when she came near. Mayor Mare tried to give her a smile and the child grinned back.
> Maybe she was more like Salki than Willow. Maybe she'd talk with her when they stopped to rest.
> Most of the nomads were already underway and Willow's family joined the procession. They didn't move very fast, which was a relief, but Mayor knew first-hoof they could keep going for a long time. The burden wasn't too heavy, but it would wear her strength down over hours and hours.
"We're getting away tonight," Mayor promised herself quietly.
> It would be their best opportunity in the chaos of setting up their tents back up, especially if the nomads didn't have some assigned order to their camp. There would be some confusion, she knew that from her years of experience organizing events.

> ~~~~

> The weight piled on her back wasn't too heavy, Mayor Mare thought, but the trip was still nightmarish. There was no road to speak of, so the ground was uneven and full of hidden rocks and holes.
> In some places there was mud, which sucked at her hooves and threatened to topple her if she wasn't paying attention. The sun,which had started pleasantly warm was now too hot and she was getting unbearably thirsty.
> Alongside all those difficulties, there was Willow walking near her with the whip always at the ready in his paw. If ever she stumbled or slowed down, he was quick with a sharp command or a smack.
> The younger female, who Mayor Mare was convinced was Willow's sister, had her lead rope but she was no problem at all. While not exactly pleasant, the walk would have been a lot less aggravating with just the two females.
> Her hoof found a hidden stone in the grass and Mayor had to shift her weight quickly to keep her balance.
> *swish* *thwack*
"I swear to Celestia, smack me again for tripping on a rock and I'll buck your knee, consequences be damned!"
> She kept grumbling for a bit longer, but quietly so Willow wouldn't hear. He wouldn't understand the words, but he would surely pick up on her tone, especially with how she held her ears pinned down and had a permanent scrunch in her muzzle.
> Mayor kept her head down and plodded on, waiting for the trip to be over. She hoped it wasn't too much farther.
> She kept her eye on Rainy Day, who was walking beside her and was apparently lost in her own little world. The mare wasn't doing all that well, even without any burdens, and she had felt Willow's whip more than once when she failed to notice they'd changed direction.
"You still okay?" Mayor asked.
> Rainy Day didn't respond. She kept her eyes on the ground in front of her hooves and trundled on.
"Rainy Day?"
> "Huh?" she looked up after hearing her name and focused on Mayor. "What was that?"
"I asked if you are okay."
> There was a moment of silence, then Rainy day gave a slight nod. "I'm fine. You have the stuff. I'm not carrying anything except myself," she said, but she didn't sound completely convinced.
"You've got an infected break. How's the fever?"
> Once again Rainy Day had to think about it and her ears focused back where Willow was laughing over something with one of the other hunters. "Fine, I think. Walking helps."
"Good. You tell me if gets worse, and I'll-"
> There was the slightest hesitation in Mayor's words and Rainy Day smoothly cut in: "You'll nothing, Mayor. They don't exactly listen to us, remember?"
"I'll think of something..." she muttered.
> "I'll be fine. We're getting out tonight, right?"
"Yes."
> Rainy Day gave her an approving nod, then went back to staring at the ground. She had been doing that quite a lot and Mayor worried that finding the way back would fall entirely on her, with her earth-pony's sense of direction and blurry vision.
"You remember the way back, right?"
> At that, the other mare snapped her head up and peered around them. She glanced up to gauge where the sun was and her good wing twitched at the sight of open sky.
> "Yeah, I got it. I know which way we're going," Rainy Day assured her.
"Thanks. I didn't see any forests, so we'll be out in the open. We'll have to hurry."
> Her friend shook her head and lifted a hoof to point. "There were some thickets East of us about an hour ago. I'll keep an eye out for others in case we need to hide."
"Good plan."
> That little bit of encouragement was enough to put a spring in Rainy Day's step and she began to pay closer attention to the landscape. Mayor nodded to herself in satisfaction. Having something to focus on would take her friend out of her misery, at least a little.
> She glanced at the sun as well and estimated it was just past noon. Despite the chill she was sweating, but it wasn't too bad. The slow walk was actually helping with her muscle fatigue.
> Were it not for the fact that they were captives and Rainy Day was injured, and her burden was slightly less, it would have been a pleasant day.
> There was a swish and a brief flash of pain on her flank. Mayor realized that Willow's sister had angled them slightly to walk around a group of slower nomads, something she hadn't noticed during her discussion with Rainy Day.
> Of course she'd never walk into other people, but that dummy Willow obviously thought she needed constant correction. She gave him a brief glare and went back to quiet muttering.
> It *would* have been a pleasant day, were it not for their captivity, Rainy Day's injury *and* Willow's whip, Mayor thought to herself.
> She glanced back again, but the young hunter was once more in conversation with one of his friends. There was nothing else to do, so she tried listening in. It was good practice.

> ~~~~

> By the time the sun was going down the horizon Rainy Day's strength began flagging. At first it was hardly noticeable and Mayor Mare didn't think much about it until Willow swished his stick around and said: "Yavak!"Yavak!"
> 'Go.'
> At that point she looked more closely at her friend and became very worried. Once again Rainy Day was walking with her head held low, but she wasn't paying much attention to the way and she dragged her hooves.
> Her sides were heaving with laboured breath and her good wing occasionally slipped and brushed the ground before Rainy Day brought it under control again.
"Don't give up," Mayor urged quietly, "it's not much further!"
> She got a narrow-eyed look in response. "That's a lie."
"It's getting late in the day, they have to stop for the night."
> The other mare didn't have an argument for that and she kept up for a few minutes, but then she stumbled and nearly fell. Mayor stopped at her side even if it risked Willow's ire. The hunter simply had to see Rainy Day was in no state to go on.
> Of course his first solution was the whip, and it worked to make Rainy Day move for another few minutes, but then her hind legs simply folded up and she sat on the ground. "I'm- I'm sorry. It's too hard. I can't. I can't," she said, partly to Mayor and partly to Willow, even though he couldn't understand. "I- I need a minute."
> The entire family stopped at this and both females came back to check what was happening. Willow was already raising his arm to deliver a good whipping, but his mother stepped up and took his wrist.
> She spoke something which made him tighten his grip on the stick, but he didn't hit Rainy Day. He argued back, at which his mother sighed and the plucked the whip right out of his paw. She said something which sounded pretty final and Willow visibly wilted.
> In the meantime, the younger nomad was checking Rainy Day. She peered into her eyes and felt around her muzzle, murmuring to herself. After her discussion with Willow, her mother joined and they spoke in hushed tones.
> Mayor thought she caught the words for 'head' and 'leg' and 'sit down', but their speech was rapid and it was hard to distinguish the alien sounds.
> The older nomad went to feel around Rainy Day's bound up wing, which finally got a reaction out of the mare. She whinnied and slid away, but the female would take no nonsense and pulled her head back by an ear.
> "Ow! Ow! No let me go!"
> Mayor would have wagered that both females understood the gist of that, even if they didn't know any of the words, but they didn't relent in their examination. The younger one took Rainy Day's muzzle and scratched the fluff on her cheeks while she murmured something which sounded soothing.
> Her mother untied Rainy Day's wing and plucked away the leaf their nomad doctor had pressed there. She inspected the herb, then crushed it in her claw and scoffed.
> She obviously didn't think much of the doctor's cure, Mayor guessed.
> Then the nomad carefully felt around the break, making the poor mare whimper and whine, and shift her hooves. The daughter held her firmly enough while her mother finished her examination.
> Mayor considered drawing their attention to give Rainy Day some relief, but the nomad was being gentle enough as far as she could see. She wasn't hurting the mare intentionally.
"It's okay, they're trying to help."
> "It bucking hurts!"
"I know. Hold on, please?"
> The older female let the wing go and took Rainy Day's rope from her daughter. She gave some orders and the youth dashed away. Mayor Mare wondered what that was about. Maybe she had sent her to fetch something?
> While they waited, the mother spoke with Willow again, who had stood by and watched all this. Mayor could almost have called it 'sulking'.
> Now he gestured some more, pointed at the ponies, then his chest, and even smacked the ground with his whip in what looked like impotent rage. He was asserting his authority over the pair.
> It seemed like he couldn't argue with his mother, because eventually she raised her voice, after which Willow threw his spear down in disgust and stomped off, sent on some other errand. Mayor was starting to feel respect for the old female, who obviously knew how to keep her children in line.
> Much to her surprise, the nomad began to untying Mayor's burdens and stacking them to the side. The rest of the nomads simply flowed around them, most glancing at the little spectacle, but not one of them interfering.
> Willow came back first, leading Salki and some other youths. Mayor Mare's heart lifted at the sight of the only nomad she considered anything close to a friend and she smiled at him.
> Salki waved back, but then looked at the older female who was pointing at the bags and bundles and giving some instructions. Some of the children looked doubtful, but Salki spoke to them and they seemed to reluctantly agree.
> Mayor was still wondering what was happening, but then the youngsters began to pick up her load and slung it around their shoulders and she understood.
> Well, she got the 'what' but not the 'why. Why would Willow's mother ask the children to carry Mayor Mare's burden? It was the other pony who had a problem, and she wasn't carrying anything.
"What are you doing?" Mayor asked the mother.
> Something in her expression must have translated, because the nomad answered something and patted her head. It didn't help, but it was encouraging to have her intelligence acknowledged.
> The reason for Willow's anger soon became apparent when he picked up some of their belongings and stomped off after the people. Most of the nomads had already passed them by and only a few stragglers were left.
> Most of the children went with him, but Salki stayed behind, apparently preferring to remain with the ponies.
> Willow's sister came back then with a piece of wood held in her forepaw. Mayor wondered what that was for, while the mother took it and brought it to Rainy Day's muzzle.
> "Wha- mhp! Bleh!" The mare spat the dirty wood out of her mouth. "What are you- mmph!"
> The nomad just forced the stick back into her muzzle and clamped it here. She said something which sounded like a command and her daughter came to hold the mare.
> "Mmph?!"
> Mayor didn't understand either, but she found she somewhat trusted that female. She seemed competent and sure in her actions.
"Just go along with it. I think she knows what she's doing."
> That helped and Rainy Day stopped trying to spit the wood out. At that, the mother nodded to herself and put her hands on the broken wing again. Suddenly Mayor understood.
"Rainy Day! Bite down on the wood! Do it!"
> It was just in time and the poor mare set out a muffled roar of pain as her broken limb was twisted.
> Mayor could only watch with horror. Her first assumption was that they were simply going to tear it off, since it was causing Rainy Day such problems. Maybe that would work, but the resulting wound could easily kill the weakened pegasus.
> The nomad female pulled, which made Rainy Day's scream rise in pitch. The mare shook her head, but the wood was lodged firmly between her teeth. She tried to tear free, but she didn't have the strength and the younger female and Salki easily kept her still.
> It just went on. The sound made Mayor's hackles rise in fear and she couldn't tear her eyes away from Rainy Day's tear-stricken, wide-eyed expression of horror.
> Only about a minute later - a minute which felt like a small eternity even to Mayor Mare - the old nomad relaxed and the scream tapered off, replaced by a mixture of panting and sobbing.
> Snot dripped from Rainy Day's muzzle as she drew lungful after lungful of air through her nose, each breath punctuated by a moan.
> The mother picked up the stick from the ground, the same one Mayor had bitten off back in the Everfree forest what seemed like a lifetime ago. She pressed it against Rainy Day's wing bone, making the poor mare whine louder, and tied it down.
> She wasn't going to tear it off, Mayor realized even as relief flooded her and her legs sagged. She'd just set the bone so it could heal properly.
> The whole procedure looked practiced. This wasn't the first broken limb that female had dealt with. She'd even known to put something in the mare's teeth to stop her from hurting herself or biting her own tongue off.
> There was just one problem left. When she was released, Rainy Day had simply folded to the ground, trying to curl up into a ball and whimpering in residual pain. There was no way she'd be able to walk any significant distance.
> Mayor wondered if they would simply camp where they are, but the older female spoke some commands to the youngsters and all three of them grabbed the injured mare.
> Rainy Day whimpered more loudly when they jostled her wing, but they carried her the few steps to Mayor and slung her over her back.
> Mayor Mare was so stunned she barely remembered to lock her knees in place before she collapsed under the weight of her friend. She began to understand the rest of it.
> The mother had gotten Willow and some of the children to take Mayor's burden so that Mayor would be free to carry her friend.
> It was perhaps the most considerate thing any of these nomads had done for them, except maybe for Salki. Mayor gave her pegasus friend a nuzzle and stood still while the nomads used her harness to tie Rainy Day securely in place.
"It's gonna be fine. I'll carry you. Just rest, okay?"
> If the mare understood she gave no sign, but the piece of wood dropped from her mouth. There were teethmarks on it and in two places the stick was nearly bitten through.
> Mayor shuffled her feet and twisted a little to settle the load into a more comfortable position for them both. Then she waited until the two children finished tying their ropes.
> They needn't have bothered, but apparently they didn't realize just how good earth ponies' balance was. Mayor didn't mind. She wouldn't have to concentrate as hard, freeing her to keep track of the scenery and the way they were going.
> Soon it was done and the nomads went to pick up the remaining bags on the ground. It wasn't a light burden, Mayor knew that first-hoof, but they didn't complain as they hefted it to their shoulders.
> The younger female picked up Mayor's rope again and said: "Yavakh!"
> It was a simple one: 'go'. She was only too happy to oblige. Their little group had fallen behind the rest of the nomads, but it wasn't hard to follow the trampled grass and occasional bit of refuse.
> The mother set a faster pace than before to catch up, but that was fine. Rainy Day was actually lighter than her previous load.
> Salki fell in step beside her and reached over to scratch Mayor Mare's ear.
"Thank you!"
> "Thank you!"
> Mayor chuckled at his repetition and shook her head.
"No. Ugu. Thank you - you're welcome. That's what you say. Okay? Thank you - you're welcome."
> He seemed to understand, so she tried again.
"Thank you."
> "You're elhom?"
"Close enough. Good. Uh, sain. Good."
> "Goot?"
"Za. Sain."
> The youth smiled at her and they walked in silence for a few steps. Then Mayor Mare looked up ahead where the two females were talking softly and she got an idea. It depended on whether she could explain it to Salki without falling behind, but it was worth a shot.
"Salki?"
> He looked over.
"Mayor Mare," she said and stopped so she could pat her own chest with a hoof.
> Then she touched Rainy Day's leg, which was slung over her shoulder.
"Rainy Day."
> She pointed at him.
"Salki."
> Then the moment of truth. She swung her hoof toward the younger of the two females and gave Salki a questioning look.
> He understood. "Gol," he said and pointed at the daughter. Then he switched his claw to the mother and said: "Intor."
> It was helpful to be able to put names to the two. Mayor repeated them silently to herself as she put her leg down and hurried after the pair.
"Okay. So maybe they aren't all jerks. It was just my luck with Willow."

> ~~~~

> The slog eventually came to an end as their little group caught up to the rest of the nomads. A makeshift camp was already established, but Mayor Mare could see that many of the people didn't bother with tents and simply set down animal skins around fires.
> The going had been easier after they changed her burden for Rainy Day and Mayor felt less tired than she'd been expecting. Her friend was also doing better.
> For the past hour or so, after the pain had faded a little, Rainy Day had come out of her personal shell of misery and began talking quietly with Mayor. She had apologized more than once for her weakness, but Mayor shushed her each time and told her to rest.
> That night would be their best chance of escape. As she'd predicted, the move was disorganized and chaotic, the nomads didn't know who was where and she saw more than one instance of what looked like arguments over locations.
> Even more importantly, the people were tired after lugging the whole camp all this way and they would probably sleep more soundly than on any other night.
"How are you feeling?" Mayor whispered. "I say we sneak away tonight. You think you can manage that?"
> There was a moment of silence from the mare on her back, but then Rainy Day spoke in a firm voice: "Yes. Let's do it. I don't care if you have to leave me along the way, let's bucking get out of here!"
> She nearly snarled that last part.
"I'm not leaving you-"
> "Yes you are! If I can't keep going, you're leaving me and going home, got it?"
"I'll carry you first!"
> The pegasus gave an exasperated growl, but then she took a breath to calm herself down. "It's gonna be fine. I rested and my wing feels a lot better. I'll keep up."
> That sounded better and Mayor made up her mind that they would escape. Whatever it took.
> She glanced at the sunset, where about half of the sun was still visible above the distant horizon. Another half hour until twilight, she guessed, but it was hard to tell exactly. The land was incredibly flat and were her eyes better she could see for miles and miles.
> As best as she could discern, Mayor Mare could see no forests anywhere on that vast plain. Their best chance of finding cover were the few patches behind them. It wasn't the best plan, since the nomads would likely guess which way they had gone, but maybe they could get far enough away to lose them by morning.
"Okay. Hopefully we have time to eat a little."
> She fell silent as Gol and Intor stopped up ahead. Since they had fallen back and arrived late, it looked like their camp would be on the outskirts. It suited Mayor just fine and the hope of their escape grew a bit stronger.
> Things were aligning for them. This was their chance, she knew it.
> The females came back and called Salki over to help unload Rainy Day. They began unstrapping her, but then the mare simply slid off by herself and stood on hooves which were only slightly unsteady.
> Mayor saw how Intor smiled to herself in satisfaction even as her daughter patted and scratched Rainy Day's head.
> Salki took the opportunity to approach Mayor and began untying her harness.
"Thanks," she whispered to him.
> "You elhom," he replied smoothly.
> The process was easier than harnessing her and soon Mayor was freed from the bundle of leather straps and rope, except for the one around her neck. She stretched out her legs, trying to gauge how tired she was, but it felt mostly fine.
> Either she was growing used to this much work, or the almost leisurely stroll through the afternoon had helped rest her. The effort had been enough to keep her blood flowing, but not too strenuous; a perfect combination.
> She was feeling positively optimistic when Willow came back from somewhere and dumped his burden of sacks and bundles on the ground. He spared a glare for the two mares, who unconsciously stepped closer together, then he barked a few words to his mother.
> The reply came in a sour tone, but the way the older female waved her paw made Mayor think she was giving some kind of permission, or blessing.
> Indeed, the young hunter hurried off and Mayor Mare turned to look where he was going. There was a group of other nomads, all approximately his age, who greeted him with laughter and slaps on his back.
> A sleepover, or something, Mayor guessed. Stallions' night out, if she was lucky. They'd go in the other direction than her escape if she was extra fortunate.
> She turned her attention to the rest of Willow's family, but the younger female was already gone while the mother was searching for things among their belongings.
"Salki?"
> The youth looked at her. He didn't seem in any kind of hurry to leave, which was just as well.
"Gol. Where is she? Where Gol?"
> He frowned in confusion, then pointed at the older nomad and said: "Intor."
"No, I know her name. Um...", Mayor tried to think of a way to put it with the words she knew in his language.
> It would probably sound horribly wrong, but maybe she could get her question across.
"Okay. Yavakh Gol," she said and swept her hoof around to indicate the mentioned nomad wasn't around. "Yavahk. Where?"
> The word meant 'go' or 'move', as near as she could tell. She was hoping that pointing out the young female was gone would get Salki to explain.
> He glanced around and asked: "Gol?"
"Za! Gol, yavah, where?"
> She didn't catch most of his speech, but he repeated two particular words a couple of times.
> Mayor did her best to enunciate them the same way he did.
"Chulu Gal? Is that some sort of conjugation?"
> Of course there was no way she could ask him that, even if he knew what conjugation meant. She was still curious, though.
"Gol? Gal? Gol?"
> This made the young nomad burst out laughing and he shook his head. "Ugu," he said, then got an idea and dashed away. Mayor sat down on her haunches to wait and Rainy Day came over to sit beside her.
> "What was that all about?"
"I tried to ask him where the young female went- Intor's daughter, I think. I guess I said something nonsensical, the way he laughed."
> Luckily the young nomad was back soon and he had a couple of items in his forepaws. He held up a splinter of wood and said: "Gal."
> Mayor noted that the end of it was smoking, as if he'd plucked a burning sliver of wood from a fire. Then he lifted up the other thing and she saw it was a smooth, round stone. "Chulu," he said.
"Okay, that second thing is probably 'stone', but I don't know if 'Gal' means wood, or splinter or what."
> Luckily the youth was not done. He mimed putting the stone down, then lifted it and dropped it again. Mayor looked blankly as he apparently beat the grass down.
"Mulching?" she ventured.
> "No," Rainy Day pointed out. "He's making a circle, see? I think it means fire-pit or something."
> Mayor Mare still didn't know what any of this had to do with the daughter, but she kept watching. Salki put the stone down a few more times and said: "Chulu. Chulu," each time. Then he dropped the smoking splinter in the middle of his imaginary circle and said: "Gal!"
> It suddenly clicked.
"Yeah, firepit. Stones - chulu in a circle, then Gal is the fire in the middle, right?"
> Mayor pointed with a hoof and rain it in a circle. "Chulu?"
> Salki nodded, excited about the little lesson. He picked up the bit of wood again, but it had gone out and was no longer smoking. Despite that, he put it back in the middle.
"Gal. Okay, I understand. Um, thank you. But what has that got to do with Gol? Um, Gol, yavakh?"
> Once again the youth hefted up the stone and repeated his phrase. It had all three words in it: 'Gol', 'Chulu' and 'Gal'.
"Oh! She went to fetch stones for the fire pit. At least that's what I think it means."
> "I guess we'll see," Rainy Day muttered. She was sitting with her tail curled around her hooves and seemed better than earlier that day.
"Here, let me feel you."
> Mayor leaned over and pressed her muzzle against Rainy Day's.
"You still have a fever. How do you feel?"
> The other mare shook her head. "Like dung, but I can deal with it. I think it's better. I think that one set the bone in my wing," she said and pointed a hoof at Intor.
"It's still infected, probably. You still need a proper doctor."
> "Yeah, yeah, but it's better than it was. I'll manage. We're escaping." She looked down at the ground and her ears fell. "I just hope it's soon enough so they can save my wing. Set or not, I won't ever fly again if I leave it like this. At best it'll keep me from dying."
> She shook her head and looked up with a look of determination. Her eyes nearly sparkled in the dying light as she glared at Mayor. "All the more reason to escape!"
> Perhaps it was just the hope of freedom and going home which gave Rainy Day this energy, but Mayor was still glad for it. If optimism helped them escape, she would use it and hope it lasted long enough.
> They fell silent as a group of youngsters came forward, but Mayor relaxed when she saw it was just their impromptu haulers. They brought back the stuff Intor had had them carry and placed it all in the pile under the older female's watchful gaze.
> When she was satisfied that everything was back, she spoke to them in what sounded like grateful tones, then rummaged in one of the sacks and took out a few strips of something.
> She passed those around and the children quickly stuck them in their mouths. Some kind of a treat or something, Mayor guessed. Everyone of the youngsters got one, including Salki.
> The children jabbered something, Intor replied and they dispersed. She didn't look too happy about handing out her store of food and there was a frown on her face as she looked at the ponies.
> They'd better be worth it, her gaze seemed to say.
> Despite herself, Mayor felt her ears splay out and her head bow. This nomad had been fair with them and they were planning to run away. It was only a minor tinge of guilt before her rational mind took over once more.
> These people had taken them as slaves, or worse - livestock. Of course running away at their earliest opportunity was the right thing to do! If they stayed the best they could look forward to was a life of hard work, followed by slaughter when they were no longer useful.
> Salki came back to them, chewing on the piece of whatever the female had given him.
"Salki? Can I see?"
> Mayor pointed a hoof at his paw and he held it out for her to inspect. One sniff was enough.
"Eugh! No. Gah- bleh!"
> "What? What is it?" Rainy Day asked even as she preemptively leaned away from the thing.
"Meat," Mayor choked out. "Dried or something. Ugh."
> Salki chuckled at their expressions even as he stuck the loathsome thing back in his mouth. Then he reached over his free forepaw and patted her head and went away. Probably to find his own family, Mayor thought.
> She worked on getting that awful stench out of her nose when the younger female, Gol, came back, panting and huffing.
> "You were right, it seems," Rainy Day commented.
> When Mayor looked up she agreed. The young nomad had her arms full of stones which she dumped on the ground near them. She exchanged a few words with her mother and then began placing them in a rough circle.
> She didn't seem to notice that one of the rocks had been there before, the one Salki had left behind.
> Soon the firepit was ready and after talking with her mother again Gol left once more.
"Probably getting the firewood," Mayor made an educated guess.
> In the meantime, the older nomad had found bundles of animal skins and she was laying them down around the fire. It looked like she wouldn't bother with a tent. Very few people did, Mayor noted. They mostly relied on the fire and their unpleasant blankets to keep them warm.
> She wondered briefly where they would sleep, but didn't really care. Intor's fire was near the edge of the camp, facing the way they had come. It suited Mayor very well and as long as they didn't make too much noise she thought they could sneak away undetected.
> An idea occurred to her, making her blush at the brashness and crudeness.
"Um..."
> Rainy Day looked up. "What?"
"Um, do you have to go?"
> "Go where?"
"No. Go, as in- um, number two? Like that- go?"
> "What?! Why?" the other mare drew away in disgust. "Do you?!"
"Maybe. I hope so."
> This didn't make much sense to Rainy Day and she scrunched her face up in distaste. "You *hope* so?" She peered at Mayor's face more closely. "You sure you don't have a fever too, Mayor?"
"Hear me out. I'm thinking if we- well, do it here, they might not like that and move us a bit further away. It'll make it easier to escape."
> Rainy Day blinked in shock, opened her mouth to argue against it, but had to admit the logic of the suggestion. In the end she settled on: "That's still gross."
"If it helps us escape more easily?"
> The other mare lowered her ears and looked at the ground. "I- I suppose. Uh, b-but I don't think I can. I wasn't- wasn't hungry."
> She was right. With her fever and her wing, Rainy Day had hardly eaten over the past few days. It wasn't a good sign.
"Tartarus," Mayor swore. "Okay, okay, you have to eat, Rainy Day. You'll need your strength! You have to eat before we do anything else. There won't be time when we're running!"
> Luckily the plain was covered with thick grass and it wasn't hard to find a patch which the nomads hadn't yet trampled. She prodded Rainy Day in that direction.
"Eat! You have to."
> "You too."
> That was a fair point and Mayor was suddenly aware of her own empty belly. They'd both need all the strength they could get, whatever little plain grass could provide.
"Okay, okay. We'll both eat while we wait for them to sleep. I guess they want to tie us up or something, we'll see how that goes. Deal? Oh, and we'll- um, go, but only if they try to keep us near the fire."
> "Deal."
> Intor looked when they stood and she tensed up, preparing to chase after them. Mayor held up a hoof.
"We're just going to feed a little, alright?"
> She kept her eyes on the nomad and bowed her head down to bite a tuft of grass. She straightened back up as she chewed. Next to her Rainy Day followed her lead.
> This made Intor relax and she walked over to them. She found both their ropes, which were still tied around their necks and led the two mares to some taller, unsullied grass.
> Once there, the nomad sat down where she could keep an eye on her little camp. She left plenty of slack in the rope for the two mares to browse.
"I guess this is as far as she's going to trust us right now. I wonder what she'll do when they go to sleep."
> Mayor was hoping Intor wouldn't set some kind of a rotating watch on them. The best outcome would be to tie them to something, like a tree stump or a stake in the ground.
> Even if she tied their hooves together, like that first night, Mayor was pretty certain she could escape with a bit of time.
> What if she really did set someone to watch them? One of the younglings maybe, or Willow. If it were Willow, Mayor didn't think she'd have a problem kicking him unconscious. That one richly deserved it.
> Others, though... Salki, in particular...
> Her face set in determination and her ears pinned back.
> She would. Whatever it took. Even Salki, if he couldn't be convinced otherwise. Mayor took one glance at Rainy Day, who was forcing herself to eat the tasteless grass, and made her decision.
> They were getting out. This night would be the best opportunity they might ever have and she intended to take it.
> These people had foalnapped them right out of Ponyville outskirts. They were brutal and ate the flesh of animals. If she didn't escape and bring warning to the Princesses, they might go after ponies again.
> Mayor Mare closed her eyes and took several deep breaths to steady her resolve. She *would* do whatever it took to escape.
> Still, she hoped it wouldn't be necessary.

> ~~~~

> The night started out pretty badly for Mayor Mare and Rainy day. After their feeding, Intor brought them right back to their camp, gestured at a patch of grass near her fire, and spoke, but it was too quick for Mayor to pick up anything.
> She didn't need the words to understand what the nomad wanted. The gestures of her paws were surprisingly clear, especially the way she waved up and down, as if patting the air.
> Mayor was proven correct when she sat down and Intor seemed satisfied. She whispered to Rainy Day to do the same and then they watched what the nomad was doing.
> There was no sign of Gol yet. They'd seen her from a distance as she brought the firewood and lit the fire, but then she grabbed a few of the bags from the pile and left once more. Intor didn't seem surprised, so Mayor guessed that the daughter had some further instructions to fulfill.
> Intor kept hold of their lines, but it barely reached the pile of her belongings. It looked a little awkward for her to rummage with one paw only, but she found what she was looking for and came back to the ponies with a new length of rope.
> Almost instantly and entirely without her conscious control Mayor's ears fell as she guessed the nomad's intention. They were to be tied up, fore- and hind leg like their first night to keep them from escaping.
> Mayor was certain she could get out of that, so she forced herself to relax as Intor came and began tugging at the rope around her neck.
> She glanced at Rainy Day, thinking to preemptively warn her to stay calm and quiet, but the other mare didn't look afraid. They shared a glance and Rainy Day lifted an eyebrow, to which Mayor gave a single nod.
> They understood each other: no fuss, no drawing attention. Their escape was still on. If there weren't a nervous twitch in Rainy Day's ears, Mayor would have thought her friend completely unfazed. It was still excellent self-control, especially considering her recent episodes.
> The loop around her neck fell away and for a brief moment Mayor Mare felt free. She hadn't even realized just how much of a weight that crude collar had been. She took a deep breath, but the sensation didn't last because Intor tied the new rope just under her jawline.
> It was tighter than the last one, but aside from a little discomfort it didn't interfere with her breathing, so Mayor just bore it as stoically as she could. She watched the old nomad, wondering how she'll tell her to roll on her back.
> Will had simply yanked her legs from under her, but his mother was more considerate.
"Huh?!"
> The exclamation escaped Mayor when Intor simply stood up and went over to Rainy Day. She had been expecting a prod to her side, or some words and gestures, so the nomad doing none of that came as a bit of a shock.
> She watched closely as Intor repeated the procedure on her friend. She untied her rope and replaced it with a new one, looped higher on her neck and tighter than before. Then she inspected Rainy Day's wing, pulling it open a little and feeling the break, both of which made the mare whimper.
> It didn't seem too bad, but the nomad pursed her lips and frowned a little at what she found. When she let the limb go, she murmured something soft and almost gentle, and patted Rainy Day on the head.
> Affectionately, Mayor was surprised to note!
> Then Intor went back to where she had prepared the simple cots for herself and her two children, and sat down beside the fire. Both ponies watched her in confusion.
> "So," Rainy Day said at last, quietly enough to keep Intor from hearing it, "she's not going to tie us up? I thought she would."
"Yeah, me too. I hope she doesn't plan on watching us all night."
> Unfortunately it looked like that was exactly Intor's intention. She stirred the fire, rummaged among her sacks and bundles until she found a strip of meat, then began industriously chewing it while keeping her eyes one the ponies.
> Mayor tried giving her a smile, one of her most reassuring, but the nomad didn't even react to it.
"She has to sleep sometime!" she murmured.
> They watched each other for a bit longer, then Mayor Mare made a decision.
"I'm going to do it. Maybe she'll move us further away."
> "What?" Rainy Day was confused for a moment, then she remembered their earlier conversation. "Oh. Really? Right here, in front of everypony?"
> It wasn't a pleasant thought and Mayor already felt her muzzle heating up with embarrassment, but she was determined to get away and if this was what it took, it would be a small price to pay.
"Needs must. Can you go too?"
> Rainy Day's gaze glassed over for a moment as she focused inward, then her ears folded down and she shook her head. "No. At least not, um that. I- I think I can pee."
"Good enough. Get up."
> They both climbed to their hooves and Intor stopped eating. She quickly put her strip of meat back in the pile and braced her forepaw on the ground. She looked ready to spring if they tried anything.
> It went against everything Mayor had been taught, and against her instincts, but she turned around so she was facing away from the nomad. Then she concentrated and lifted her tail.
> Maybe it was easier not looking at Intor's face. Beside her, Rainy Day took a breath, held it as she focused, then let it out in a rush along with a stream of liquid.
> Both of them avoided each other's eye, even after it was done.
> Mayor wished she had a means of wiping, but there was nothing around except for grass, which would just mean her hoof got dirty. She was almost painfully aware of the slight dampness under her tail as she lowered it back down.
> Needs must.
> They turned back slowly, muzzles burning in shame.
> "What the-?" Rainy Day began, then growled in annoyance. "These people are crazy!"
> Intor was still watching them intently and it looked like she hadn't even glanced away while they were doing their business. She also had her strip of meat once again and was chewing once more.
"Buck me..."
> Rainy Day shuffled away from the damp patch of grass. Luckily the rope was long enough for that. "What now?"
> Mayor couldn't think for a moment. She couldn't come up with a good plan. Rainy Day was right, the nomads were either insane, or completely shameless.
"I- uh, M-Maybe we just wait. She'll have to sleep sometime."
> "And if not?"
"We lure her here and I'll buck her. We're getting out tonight, no matter what!"
> That statement brought a grim, but determined smile to Rainy Day's muzzle. She gave Mayor a nod and settled down on a dry patch of grass, as far away from their 'business' as the rope would allow.
> Intor didn't seem to mind them moving further away, so Mayor joined her. Her own rope was slightly longer, but she laid down next to Rainy Day's good wing and leaned against her friend to share some body warmth.
> The night didn't feel quite as freezing cold as the previous one, but this time they weren't wet which probably helped.
> Mayor glanced at the sky, where the first stars were just starting to poke through. The sun had set and most of the light now came from nomads' fires.
> They unconsciously shuffled a little closer to each other and settled down to wait.

> ~~~~

> About an hour later, as near as Mayor could judge, Gol came back from wherever she had been sent, apparently struggling with carrying her burden. She had what Mayor had thought were sacks, tied up in pairs and slung over her shoulders and back.
> Now that she was closer, she could see how the things bulged and hear the sloshing of liquid inside.
> Gol had been sent to fetch water and the realization reminded Mayor of how thirsty she was after the day's walk. Their fresh grass meal had helped a little, but she still looked at the water sacks longingly and licked her lips.
> The sound of dribbling and Intor loudly swallowing just served to exacerbate the problem and Mayor was seriously considering approaching them and asking for some water.
> She was about to do it, but after the older female had had her fill she gestured to the mares and her daughter came over. It wasn't hard to guess, she was to water the ponies.
> "Thank Celestia," Rainy Day murmured.
> Gol approached them with a sewn-together skin, bulging with water and Mayor mentally prepared herself for the meat stink. It was just water, she reminded herself.
> The young nomad grabbed the sack under her forearm and tilted it forward. The water splashed into her cupped forepaw, which she held steady just in front of Mayor's muzzle.
> She quickly understood. It felt a bit strange and gross to lap up water from a nomad's paw like that, but Mayor was too thirsty to give it much thought.
> Gol's skin was a bit salty, but the water quickly washed that away. It stank of death from the sack, but it wasn't that powerful and she could ignore it.
> Some of the water escaped, but Mayor Mare did her best to lap up all of it, knowing that Gol must have walked quite far to get it judging by how long she was gone.
> At one point she looked up and saw that the young nomad was smiling in a mixture of excitement and pride at the way she was providing for her 'pets'. It caused Mayor to stop in embarrassment for a moment, but the water running down her chin and neck reminded her and she quickly licked Gol's paw once again.
> Soon she was done and moved her muzzle away, which the young nomad understood and stopped pouring. She went over to Rainy Day next.
"It's okay. Her forepaw is clean- well, now it is, at any rate. The bag stinks a little, but the water is good," she reassured her friend.
> Rainy Day didn't lose any time and put her muzzle in Gol's palm even before she began pouring. Mayor did her best to ignore the lapping and slurping sound, which seemed to go on and on forever.
> The dribble of water finally stopped, but the other mare kept licking Gol's forepaw to get the last drops.
> When Mayor looked, she saw that the skin was empty.
"Was it enough? We can try and ask them for more."
> Rainy Day shook her head. "It's okay. I'm good. We'll drink on the way home anyway."
> The young nomad reached down to pat Rainy Day's head, then moved her paw around to scratch her chin. She murmured something and smiled, then went back to sit beside her mother.
> Intor gave a satisfied nod and spoke. Mayor caught 'us' - water, and 'kevtekh' - lie down, but the rest was unknown to her. She watched as the younger nomad grabbed a full skin and drank from it, then went to one of the other cots and lay down.
> She wrapped herself up in a bundle of animal skins and rested her head on her foreleg. She stared at the fire and at the ponies, but eventually her eyes began to droop and Mayor knew she would fall asleep soon.
> On the other side Intor took a stick and poked at the embers before tossing a few more pieces of wood in. She was sitting and it looked like she intended to keep it up.
> Mayor Mare gave herself about two hours to see if Intor would nod off, otherwise she'd start working on a plan to knock her out.
> She could slowly sidle up to the female, perhaps pretending to be a pet who wants some scratches. Then, once she was close enough-
> Whatever it took.
"You try and get some sleep. I'll stay up and wake you when it's time," she told Rainy Day.

> ~~~~

> Mayor Mare was having some trouble staying awake. The nomad camp was quiet and Intor's fire kept away the worst of the chill. She was almost comfortable on a patch of lush grass, pressed against Rainy Day.
> The work of the past few days was catching up to her and her eyelids threatened to close. More than once her head nodded and Mayor jerked awake with a start.
> If Intor was wondering why the mare refused to sleep, she didn't show it. The nomad herself didn't have any such issues. She had things to do with her claws which kept her occupied and wakeful.
> For a while Mayor watched her weave some kind of long plant stems into the crude rope the nomads used. Even with her blurry visions she could see how delicate and precise the movements of her claws were. The weaving was surely as intricate as only the best unicorns could manage and watching her work was almost hypnotic.
> Eventually she had to look away and Mayor transferred her gaze to Gol, who was fast asleep. She flicked her eyes between mother and daughter and thought she could see some resemblance there. It proved that they really were related and that nomad genetics worked pretty much like pony ones, at least superficially.
> The young female was lying on her side and her mouth was slightly parted. She was resting her head on her foreleg and used her other paw to hold her skin blanket closed around her neck.
> Here and there Mayor thought Gol's eyes were moving, but she decided it was just the dancing shadows from the flickering firelight. She wasn't close enough to confirm either way without her glasses.
> Eventually Mayor was having real trouble keeping her eyelids open and her head up. She was about to wake up Rainy Day when she heard a rustle to one side. Her ears focused on the spot and she tried to see, but she'd been looking at the fire and her eyes weren't adapted for the dark.
> Intor looked up with a small start as Willow came to the campsite. He looked slick with sweat and if Mayor was any judge of nomad facial expressions yet, pleased with himself.
> He and his mother held a whispered conversation, which sounded as if it was getting heated until Intor pointed at Gol and hissed something which sounded final.
> The hunter turned around to look at the ponies, but his eyes held almost none of his earlier hostility. Mayor returned his gaze calmly, hoping he wouldn't try to take out his grievances of the day on them.
> Intor stood up and untied their ropes from her foreleg in the meantime. She murmured something else to her son and passed the lines to him. He shrugged and nodded, accepting the duty so his mother could sleep.
> Mayor held her breath, almost not daring to hope. If one of the nomads was going to get a buck to the head, she'd much prefer to do it to him.
> Yes! Intor went around the firepit and paused to drop a few more branches in it before taking the cot next to her daughter's. She was soon bundled up, but Mayor noticed the old nomad slept facing away from the fire.
> Maybe she liked her back warm.
> Willow sat down in the same place his mother had been and stared at the fire. It didn't look like he would do anything else, which gave Mayor hope that he might nod off.
> Her own heart was beating faster in excitement and all traces of sleep were gone from her mind. He was exactly the person who overestimated his abilities. Intor had known she had to keep busy to stay awake, but Willow apparently thought he could do it through will alone.
> He glanced at the mares every now and then, but dismissed them as unimportant. He hadn't even tied their ropes around his foreleg like his mother had done. He'd just draped them across his lap.
> As Mayor watched what he would do, the young hunter returned his gaze to the fire and his his face relaxed in an inward smile.
> It was confusing, until she saw him slide his paw down his belly and under his animal skin clothes. He let out a sigh and closed his eyes, even as his grin widened.
> Suddenly it clicked. He'd gone away in the evening and came back late, sweaty, but pleased with himself. Now he was remembering something and smiling to himself, even as he touched down between his legs.
> He had a special nomad out there, one he'd visited that night.
> Mayor smiled to herself, not because it sounded cute, but because she knew stallions tended to get extra sleepy after sex. Having him watch them was the best possible outcome!
> She didn't have to wait long before Willow began yawning and stretching. He shifted his position every few minutes, but his eyes kept closing and he had to shake his head each time to wake himself up.
> It wouldn't be long now. Her own tiredness had washed away with the expectation and Mayor was fully alert and focused on the nomad. She didn't doubt it; he would fall asleep any moment now.
> Willow managed to stave off unconsciousness for a few more minutes when he got up to feed the fire again, but then he had nothing more to do. He glanced at the ponies a few more times, but they hadn't moved so he looked back in the fire.
> Not long after that he yawned, stretched and lay down on his cot.
> This was it!
> The young dummy still hadn't tied the ropes to his limb, but kept them in his forepaw, pressed to his chest! It wouldn't have made a difference anyway. He still underestimated their intelligence, which would give them the opportunity.
> Mayor Mare almost couldn't believe her luck. She watched Willow closely, until his breathing was nice and regular. He was probably already out, but she decided to wait a little longer just in case.
> Her patience was rewarded when the hunter stirred a few minutes later and his foreleg shot out, seeking. He found a bundle of skins and pulled them over himself to ward off the chill in the air.
> Mayor couldn't help grinning to herself. It really was that easy!
> She waited another fifteen minutes, as best as she could judge, but their little camp was completely still and quiet, other than occasional soft snoring from Willow.
> It was time.
> A quick nuzzle woke up her friend, who lifted up her head and stared at the fire in confusion for a while. She had to blink her eyes a few times, then she sought out what had woken her up.
> "Mayor?"
"It's time. They're all asleep."
> The other mare stiffened for a moment, then nodded. "I understand. What do we do?"
> Mayor examined the ropes leading from them and under Willow's blanket. He was probably holding them, even in his sleep. She didn't dare risk tugging them.
"Hold on."
> She rose smoothly to her hooves and came a bit closer to give the line enough slack. Then she stepped on it, so it wouldn't move and alert the young hunter. She examined the crude rope and saw it was exactly like the one Intor had been weaving earlier. Dried plant fibers, probably flax or some local equivalent.
> It would prove no difficulty. Mayor took the rope in her mouth and simply bit through it. Earth pony strength came to her aid.
> Her teeth ached after that, but she ignored the discomfort and looked for Rainy Day's line as well. Another quick bite and that was also severed.
"There. Quietly, now," she whispered.
> They moved their hooves cautiously and kept to the thickest grass. There was slight rustling as they walked, but it was lost in the background noise of the night.
> At first Mayor kept a close eye on the fire and the nomads around it, but soon her blurry vision betrayed them.
"Rainy Day? Look back. Watch them. Let me know if they move, okay? I can't see without my glasses."
> "On it!"
> They kept moving, away from the pinpricks of light which was the main nomad camp. Mayor kept her ears focused to catch any noise, any movement. Maybe the nomads had posted guards, she reasoned.
> There was a place where they had to pass between two nearby fires, but they were down to mere embers and didn't cast too much light. Mayor still stopped them and listened.
> She caught an occasional snore, or a sigh, but nothing which would tell her if some of the nomads were sitting awake and watching the night.
"Rainy? This way- do you see any of them awake?"
> She tapped her friend with a hoof, then gently nuzzled her head in the right direction. She had to wait while Rainy Day observed.
> "Hmm..."
"What?"
> Rainy Day sounded worried. "I see five of them asleep around the fires, but there's one empty cot.
"Buck. They probably have guards. Do you see anyone walking around?"
> More silence, then Mayor felt her friend shake her head. "Sorry."
"Okay, quietly. Nice and easy. Keep your ears open."
> The crept forward, staying as far from both fires as possible, painfully aware that they were visible to anyone with good eyesight. Mayor didn't like the feeling of being that exposed so she hastened her steps, even if it made slightly more noise.
> After a few steps, Rainy Day caught up beside her, but she didn't comment on the change of speed.
> They hurried away from the camps, grateful for the deeper shadows out there.
> "Hold!" Rainy Day hissed and pressed her head against Mayor's side. They both froze and held their breath to hear better.
> Mayor felt her friend nuzzle her and turn her in a specific direction. "There," she said in a whisper right into her ear.
> There it was. Footsteps in the grass. As she continued to listen, Mayor was sure she heard breathing.
"Is it coming this way?"
> Rainy Day wrapped a wing around her, probably to keep her still. "No, stay here. It will pass in front of us."
> They tracked the progress of the nomad as he slowly circled the camp. It was probably a he, Mayor thought. She'd noticed that most of the hunting and fighting was done by the males in the camp, while the females cooked and cared for the children.
> The footsteps receded into the night and the mares allowed themselves to breathe a bit more deeply once again. Mayor lifted a hoof, but the wing around her tightened. "Not yet," Rainy Day warned.
> Mayor obediently froze in place and kept listening for the guard. Once again Rainy Day nuzzled her head, but this time she turned her back to the camp. "There. See?"
"Sorry, I don- oh."
> It was still a blur, but Mayor saw the blob of shadow moving. The guard was going back to the campfires, probably to check if everything was okay. A terrifying thought occurred to her.
"He might notice us gone!"
> "Okay, let's go!"
> The two hurried as best they could in the dark without making noise. Their hoofsteps were muffled by the grass, but there was still an occasional stone they hit with a dull clop.
> She kept glancing back, but the nomad camp was receding into the darkness, the dim fires merging into a faint patch of light.
> The night was extremely dark and there was no moon to be seen. Mayor nearly stumbled a step in shock.
> Moon? Did this world have a moon as well? She searched her memories, but couldn't really recall. She hadn't been paying attention.
"Rainy Day? Did this world have a moon?"
> There was silence for a few hoofsteps, then her friend answered: "I think it does. I saw it the other day. I think I did, at least."
"Piece of luck it's not up yet. I wonder who raises it here. I guess they aren't as diligent as Luna?"
> "Probably. You're right, it's lucky."
> The stars alone gave off hardly any light, but now they were away from the firelight, Mayor found her eyes adapting some more. She began to see the general shape of the land. It was mostly flat, but she thought she detected some hills in the distance in front of them.
"Are we going the right way?"
> Rainy Day slowed down and stopped so she could look around. "I- I think so. Hold on."
> Mayor sat on her haunches to rest for a moment while her friend twirled in place. She even rose up on her hind hooves, using her good wing for balance, to get a better vantage point.
"Need me to lift you up?"
> "No, it's fine. Yes, I see the trail. It's this way."
"Trail?"
> As far as Mayor was aware, this world didn't have roads, not even dirt ones. She didn't remember anything like that from their walk earlier on the day.
> "Trampled grass, mostly. It's a bit messy, but most of them walked in a clump. That leaves a trail."
> It made sense and once again Mayor had to marvel at pegasi eyes. Even were her own eyesight perfect, she probably wouldn't be able to spot something like that in the night.
"Ah. Okay, lead the way."
> So far Rainy Day was doing well. She had rested and seemed perfectly fine. Mayor remained hopeful her strength would last until the morning, or at least until they found some kind of shelter.
> She followed the swift pegasus and soon they came upon the wide track left after the nomads' passage. Up close she could see it too, a swathe of land trampled by the passage of many feet and hooves.
> This close she could smell the lingering stink of unwashed bodies and animal hides.
> "This way," Rainy Day said and headed off. "We have to make it to one of those forests."
"Agreed."
> Maybe the moon would yet make an appearance, once its keeper realized it wasn't up? Mayor was grateful for its lack earlier, which aided their escape, but now it would be useful to help them see.
> She didn't mind too much. They'd had a series of incredible luck that night.
> The important thing was that they were free. They still had the loops of rope around their necks, but those could wait until they stopped for rest.
> They were out of the nomads' captivity and running for home!

> ~~~~

> The air gradually became colder and the sweat which was pouring off both mares from their exertion felt chilly. It kept them cool, but Mayor was beginning to worry about stopping.
> Rainy Day, in particular, still wasn't fully recovered from her fever and subjecting her to such cold could turn disastrous.
> Her immediate concern, however, was the way their strength was already flagging. Muscle fatigue came back with a vengeance and Mayor's legs told her in no uncertain terms that they were far from fully rested, despite the relatively light effort of the previous day.
> The way Rainy Day ran with her head held low and her breath coming in increasingly ragged wheezing was also a source of concern.
> Mayor knew they would simply collapse in a lather if they kept their pace up for much longer, but she kept stubbornly putting one hoof in front of another in as near a canter as she could manage.
> Her friend also didn't want to show weakness, at least judging by her angry scowl. These first hours would be crucial. If Willow or Intor woke up and saw they had escaped, the nomads might try and chase after them.
> Mayor suspected ponies were faster over short distances, but she remembered the hunters' fearsome endurance from the day they'd caught them. These people worked hard every day of their lives and were hardened to travel across this strange, inhospitable land.
> Perhaps some of the more athletic ponies could outrun the nomads, but not office workers such as Mayor Mare. Rainy Day could easily have escaped if she could fly, but since she wasn't an active athlete, her endurance when running on the ground wasn't all that much better than Mayor's.
> There was no use. However much Mayor told herself that they'd rest once they made it back to the nomads' previous camp it didn't help. Her heart was about to bust out of her chest, she was nearly choking on her tongue and sweat was pouring off her.
> Even her vision was beginning to dim, and since she had noticed that in the dark night, it probably meant she was almost unconscious.
"Ha- sto- stop," she managed to wheeze out.
> The mares came to a gradual halt and Mayor spread all her four legs further apart to make standing easier. Her limbs twitched as all her muscles burned with fatigue.
"Res- we- we... rest."
> Rainy Day understood and nodded, before simply flopping over on her side, barrel still heaving as she dragged at the air. Mayor watched in numb fascination as white, foamy spittle flew out of the mare's mouth and wetted the grass.
> She wanted to lie down herself, but she wasn't sure she'd be able to get back on her hooves if she did.
> Mayor tried talking again.
"Five- five minutes."
> Rainy Day focused her eye on her, but didn't otherwise reply. She was lying on her good wing, of course, but her injured one twitched and she shivered.
> They were both overheated from their exertion, but the ice in the air was already making itself known. The chilled sweat had felt nice for a minute or so, but now it was clammy and uncomfortable.
> Eventually they would need a fire, Mayor realized. She tried to think back to her Filly Guides days where older ponies had tried to teach the youngsters these essential wilderness skills.
> If she could find some flint- no, that would require metal. Bits of dry wood could work, but Mayor didn't think she'd have the strength to rub them together fast enough.
> There was one hope, even if she didn't really like the idea. It was a long shot, but their only chance.
> The nomads' old camp. She'd seen that some of the fire pits were quite deep, there was a chance, however slim, that a small ember might have survived, buried under ash. If not that, maybe they had left a blanket behind.
> Maybe it was worn and damaged and the people didn't deem it worth carrying. Mayor Mare would take anything to keep them from freezing. It was the only chance she could see.
> Once they stopped moving for the night they would have to stay warm, or else the combination of cold and muscle fatigue wouldn't let them move faster than a slow trot the next day.
> They were free, however, and Mayor was making plans. That was good. She hadn't been beaten by the nomads and she sure as Tartarus wouldn't be defeated by their inhospitable landscape. She would get herself and Rainy Day out of there!
> Her panting was nearly under control. Her uncontrollable jitters had stopped. In a short while they would have to move again, but maybe they didn't need to run quite as hard.
> They had both paused to listen a few times, although that had been practically useless for the past hour when all they could hear was their own ragged breathing or thumping heartbeat. There hadn't been any sign of pursuit.
"We should go."
> Rainy Day drew a breath, but she began moving her legs to try and get them underneath her. "Gimme a second."
"I think we can slow down a bit. Maybe they didn't notice us gone that quickly. Heh, maybe they still don't know."
> The other mare looked doubtful, but she nodded anyway. "Slow canter?"
"Fast trot. We have to conserve our strength."
> Rainy Day snorted, but she didn't say anything. Unfortunately Mayor could easily read her face because she was thinking the same thing: 'What strength?' She hauled herself upright mainly through a force of will, and looked around. "This way. We'll be there soon."
"What's- oh. Good luck, looks like," Mayor pointed out as she caught a glimmer of light in the distance.
> "Huh?" Rainy Day turned her head to follow her gaze, then nodded. "Looks like whoever guides their moon has finally gotten around to it."
> In the distance, off to their side, a thin sliver of that pale, white orb was rising above the flat land. For the moment it just cast deeper shadows among the grass, but when it got a bit higher on the sky it would help them see.
> For some reason Mayor Mare was cheered by its presence. Maybe it was an omen of good luck. The moon had been absent to cover their escape and came up now to light their way. Perhaps somepony on this world really was looking out for them.
"Okay, let's go."
> Taking that first step was an agony in itself, but Mayor pushed past the pain and exhaustion and moved her hoof. Her hind leg followed automatically out of lifelong habit and she was walking.
> There was rustling beside her as Rainy Day caught up. They shared a glance, then Mayor leaned forward and forced her tired limbs to obey.
> Trot was the best she could manage, but she felt she could keep it up for a while before she had to stop again.
> The cold sweat permeating her coat was making her shiver, but she knew she'd warm up again soon. Already her breathing was picking up and her nostrils weren't enough. She opened her mouth to get the air she needed.
> It was worth the effort to escape. They had to warn ponies of this new danger. They had to get back home. They could rest after.

> ~~~~

> The nomads' trail suddenly spread out and became messy and impossible to follow. Mayor Mare slowed and then stopped in confusion, but even before she could ask Rainy Day said: "We're here."
> Now that she looked at it in moonlight Mayor saw that she was right. The trampled grass gave way to packed dirt, dotted with fire pits. If she focused and drew air through her nose, she could smell the stink of the camp that had been there.
> Once more Rainy Day collapsed to the ground while Mayor stood and allowed her poor, abused legs to rest.
"Good- good," was all she could manage for the moment.
> There was no real way for her to gauge how long their trip had taken, but her rough guess was about five hours. That left them some three or so hours until sunrise. If they could find some blankets, or animal skins, or even a glowing ember, they could take turns sleeping and be off at first light.
> Mayor cast her eyes around the landscape and while it looked eerily different in the night, she recognized the shape of those hills, the sparse forest covering them. She knew which way to go. She remembered the landmarks.
> They wouldn't move very fast, but she could find their way back to the portal into Everfree.
> The only thing she didn't know was how long it would take. Their weary trip to this place had become a blur of misery in her memory and Mayor couldn't put her hoof on how far they had walked.
> Less than a day at a slow trot, she cautiously estimated.
"Okay, we have to find either a burning ember, or something to cover ourselves to keep warm."
> Rainy Day's muzzle scrunched up in disgust at the mention, but Mayor made her voice firm.
"No, we don't have a choice. We're overheated now and we're soaked with sweat. If we don't get warm, we'll both have a fever in the morning!"
> She shook her head and debated internally whether she wanted to say it, but then decided that Rainy Day deserved to know the truth.
"We're weak from hunger and you're still ill. If we can't get home soon- well, I don't like our chances. They'll probably come after us, so we have to move fast and we can't do that if we both have a cold!"
> That clinched it and Rainy Day's ears dropped. She looked back, the way they had come, then returned her gaze to Mayor and nodded. "Okay. I understand." She began to pick herself up once again.
"Good. I'll go this way. Meet on the other side of the camp, then we'll look for somewhere to sleep."
> "Okay."
> They spread out and at first Mayor Mare didn't entertain much hope she'd find anything useful. She made her way around some of the fire pits and paused at each to carefully dig with her hoof.
> None of them were even slightly warm.
> She found pieces of bone, or places which stank of piss. She avoided both of those and her stomach nearly turned despite the fact there wasn't much in it.
> They could graze while they kept watch, Mayor decided. They'd go drink from the river in the morning. She didn't dare risk falling in the water in the dark.
> She spotted something odd on the ground and pawed at it with a hoof to examine the thing. It was a bit of animal skin, but the fur was very nearly stripped off.
> Mayor recognized it as that bit of tough hide she saw some of the nomads wrap around their hind-
> What could she even call them? Hind hooves, but they didn't have hooves like minotaurs. They looked like a stockier, shorter version of their forepaws. Some of the people wrapped bits of tough hide around those, either to keep themselves warm or to make walking easier over rocks and shrubbery.
> In any case, it was too small to offer any kind of cover, but her spirits rose despite it. The nomads did leave things behind. There was hope she'd find at least a tattered blanket.
> The next couple of fireplaces were just as cold and then Mayor found a broken spear, its stone tip still tied securely to the splintered wood. She briefly considered trying to take it, but the shaft was too short for her to wield it effectively even if she knew how to fight.
> Mayor Mare left it and continued her search. She soon came across a patch of trampled grass and her nose told her it was where the donkeys had been kept. There probably wasn't anything useful there, so she just gave it wide berth.
> It continued like that and she was starting to shiver in the cold. Every little breath of the wind felt like icicles stabbing into her flesh. Mayor increased her pace, aware of the droplets of freezing cold sweat still sliding down her sides and legs.
> Her mane was plastered to her neck and even her tail felt damp as she swished it experimentally. Rainy Day probably felt even worse and the ordeal was likely to exacerbate her illness.
> They really needed to get some warmth!
> She hurried to the next firepit and put a hoof on it. Her breath hitched when she felt a trickle of warmth radiating from the ash. She carefully dug with her hoof, pausing to feel with the flat of her frog.
> Before she unearthed the ember, if it even existed, Mayor froze and thought better of it. If she exposed it to the chill air it might die almost instantly. She needed kindling! She very carefully pushed the ash back to keep the tiny spark safe.
> Mayor looked around to memorize the spot, then hurried to the nearest edge of the camp. The grass looked dry and there were dead bushes dotting the landscape where she could gather some twigs. She'd need that anyway if they found a remnant of fire.
> It took fifteen minutes of stumbling around in the dim moonlight before Mayor had a satisfactory pile of hay and sticks. She hobbled on three legs so she could take her treasure back to the firepit.
> The kindling she laid carefully, almost reverentially beside and felt around again. Her breath left her in a sigh of relief when that same warmth met her hoof. She lay down on her belly to free both hooves and bring her face closer, then she began to dig once more.
> She uncovered bits of blackened wood, but she could feel their heat on her nose. Mayor quickly covered them with the dry grass, then cupped her hooves around the precious ember and blew as gently as she could.
> There was a tiny glow and a stalk began to smoke! It was working.
> Controlling her breathing was hard and more than once Mayor had to turn her head away and gasp for air, out of fear she would blow the tiny flame out with her panting. Her heart thumped as hard as it had when they were running.
> Again she blew on the ember and was rewarded by an orange glow. She pressed the grass more closely against the tiny little thing.
"Please, for the love of Celestia," she prayed.
> One more breath, but this time her stomach clenched together in fear. The glow wasn't as bright as before. Her time was running out!
> Mayor desperately gathered her dry grass and worked her hooves as tightly around the ember as she could to ward off the wind.
> She took a shaky breath and blew, the grass stalked smoked some more and tickled her nose, but there was no flame. Out of desperation Mayor tried to blow harder.
"No! No, don't do this. No..."
> With a last, beautiful flicker, the ember died. It still smoked and Mayor blew on it again and again, but the fuel was spent and her grass had been too fresh to catch. She sighed and let her head drop, which plunged her muzzle into the ash but she didn't care.
> She picked herself back up a few minutes later. If there had been one ember, there would be others. Maybe Rainy Day had already found a better fire pit and was right this very moment fanning the flames.
> Mayor stood up and looked around, hoping to spot a flickering light but seeing only shadows. She took a breath and closed her eyes for a moment to gather her resolve once more.
> They would survive, even the cold. She took a step, then another. Then she came back to pick up her carefully gathered kindling. Maybe she would get another chance.
> Her muscles twinged with little bursts of pain as she hobbled on three legs once more, but Mayor ignored them and went back to searching.
> A torn animal skin. Only a few days before she would have been horrified to be searching for something that macabre, but now it could save their lives. Funny, she thought, what necessity made ponies do.
> She wondered if this hard life was what made nomads that cruel toward animals. Would she have become like that if she remained in this land?
> Surely the pony nature was better. She was a citizen of Equestria and she would stay that, no matter what happened!
> Soon she came across a larger piece of hide which turned out to be a water skin. For a moment Mayor was pleased with her discovery, as being able to carry water with them would make their trek less onerous, but upon closer examination she saw the thing was ripped.
> No doubt the reason it was left behind.
> She dropped her load of sticks and grass for a moment so she could examine the water vessel. It was stitched together out of two pieces of hide so that all the stitches were on the inside.
> The thread wasn't that crude rope, a piece of which still adorned her own neck, but something tougher and thinner. A white substance, which reminded her slightly of spider silk.
> Mayor stuck her hooves in through the rip and pulled apart. The hide tore soundlessly, but the sheer feeling of pulling it apart made her stomach lurch and she nearly vomited.
> This had once been the skin of some creature!
> She nearly tossed it away, but a gruesome thought occurred to her and Mayor let her head hung.
> It wouldn't be much cover, but it was the most she had found so far and she couldn't afford to leave it.
> She put her hooves back in the hole and pulled, even as she swallowed. Her own saliva tasted foul for some reason as the material split completely. What she ended up with was a flap of skin, sewn together in the middle, which she could use as a small, makeshift blanket.
> It wouldn't cover even one pony, but maybe combined with a few more things it would keep a little warmth.
> Mayor turned and went back to search for that discarded hoof-wrapping she'd found earlier. It was another scrap.

> ~~~~

> Mayor Mare was shivering badly and her teeth were chattering in the cold as she waited and looked for her friend. She was cold, despite the few pieces of tattered animal hide she'd draped over her back.
> They helped a little, but she was still covered in sweat and the night would be long and miserable.
> Some of the fire pits she'd inspected were slightly warm, but there hadn't been another living ember and she'd dropped her bundle of sticks and grass. If Rainy Day had found anything, she could go fetch it.
> Mayor saw the other mare working her way to her as she stopped and inspected each fire pit. In the dark it was hard to tell if Rainy Day had found any pieces of hide or fur. Maybe they had enough, if they huddled together and the pegasus covered them with her good wing.
> The combination of chill and their exertions was making Mayor's limbs jerk so she decided to double check some of the nearby fires, if only to take her mind off the discomfort.
> She felt the ash in the nearest circle of stone, but there was no warmth. Just in case she dug out a few hoof-fulls. Nothing.
> Then Mayor got an idea and headed to the edge of the camp. Maybe the nomads tossed trash outside, so as not to litter what passed for streets between the tents? She hadn't thought of that. Maybe as their next step, she and Rainy Day should circle the camp and search the grass for discarded pieces of clothing.
> A faint sound, distant and barely at the edge of her hearing made Mayor pause and listen.
> She wasn't sure if she even heard it, but the sudden fear made her insides clench almost painfully. She held her breath to hear better and swiveled her ears around.
> It had only been her imagination, she told herself. The effort and the stress of the past few days made her think-
> This time there was no mistaking it. The sound was coming from far away and she only caught it because she was focusing, but there was a howl.
> A wolf howl.
> Sudden dread leadened her legs and fresh beads of sweat broke out all over her skin. For a few moments she was unable to move or think.
"No, no no no no," she whispered to herself.
> Maybe if she didn't move, they wouldn't sense her. Which way had the howl come from?
> Mayor Mare slowly turned, both dreading and hoping there would be another. At least it would give her a direction.
> There! The sound made her shiver anew and her breath came in shallow, rapid pants. When she lifted her leg it shook badly and she placed it down, unsure if she could walk. Her stomach was a tiny ball of ice and felt as if it was dropping down to her hooves.
"Shit shit shit!"
> Pure, overwhelming terror made it impossible to think or act. She was looking toward the source of the howl, across the nomad camp.
> The way they came from.
> The wolves were on their trail.
> "Mayor?"
> Her friend spotted her and joined her, but she froze to the spot when she saw her stance. Rainy Day looked in the direction Mayor was facing and her ears folded down. "What's wrong?"
> A vision of gray muzzles, pointed into the wind as they speeded across the plain played in Mayor's mind. She saw themselves running, but it would be futile. They were already tired and the pack would soon drive them to exhaustion.
> She couldn't see a way out. They'd catch them and-
> Teeth. Yellow fangs, tearing into her skin, ripping.
> It was going to be a horrible, in-equine way to die. They couldn't escape it, not in their condition.
> "Mayor?"
> Rainy Day was right beside her, looking increasingly concerned.
"L-L-Listen..."
> The other mare did so, falling silent and controlling her breathing so she could hear better.
> There was nothing.
> "Mayor, I don't-"
"Hush!"
> Once again Rainy Day obliged and concentrated.
> Another howl sounded and Mayor imagined it was slightly nearer.
> There was a whimper beside her at the same time as Mayor felt warm liquid run down her hind legs. She'd lost control over her bladder, but she didn't care in the slightest.
> Maybe if she found that broken spear piece again!
> There was no way for her to wield it, but-
> Mayor Mare closed her eyes and hot tears ran down her face. It'd be a cleaner way to go, at least for one of them.
> "Come on. We have to run! Move!"
> Rainy Day was butting her flank with her head. The jolt nearly unbalanced Mayor and she almost fell, but her hind leg moved out of sheer, unconscious reflex.
> That brought her out of the state of terror.
> Her heart was hammering like crazy and she was physically incapable of drawing a deep breath, but she could move her shaky limbs.
> "Go! GO!"
> Rainy Day butted her again and began stumbling through the grass, away from the camp. Mayor followed and her painstakingly gathered pieces of skin slid from her back without a second thought.
> She wouldn't need them, after all.
> She was still cold, her core felt frozen, but it wasn't from the chill.
"We- w-w-we won't make it. It's t-too far!"
> Rainy Day glanced back and they shared a look full of terror and understanding. They both knew the truth of the matter, but they still had to pretend for each other.
> "We have to try," the mare said and increased her pace.
> They were at a fast trot already and Mayor wanted to push faster. She wanted to gallop with everything she had, but she knew that way she'd drive herself into the ground in a few minutes.
> She had to conserve what little endurance she had left. She had to make it last to the portal!
> At least, she thought, with her ragged breathing and thumping heartbeat, with her clumsy crashing through the grass and bushes, she couldn't hear the howling.
> It meant she couldn't gauge how quickly the wolves were catching up, but it let her lie to herself.
> She knew it for a lie, but she told it to herself anyway.
"We'll make it. We'll make it. We can do this. We have to do this!"

> ~~~~

> Her hammering heart. Her rasping breath. The flaring pain in her legs. Mayor Mare's world had shrunk in on itself until nothing was left except the effort and the terror.
> Sweat ran in little rivulets down her sides and foam dribbled from her gaping muzzle. There was no destination, not anymore. No hope of Equestria or rescue. There was just running as fast as she could, until she couldn't.
> Beside her, Rainy Day sounded no better off. She had stopped whimpering in fear a few minutes ago, opting instead to save her breath.
> It wouldn't be long now.
> Mayor could hardly lift a hoof anymore and the stumbling, jerking gait they could manage was too slow. Even a full gallop would have been too slow, but what else could they have done except try?
> She found herself thinking longingly of the nomads' camp. It meant fire, and people, and safety. Even if they were her captors, Salki and Intor, even Willow wouldn't tear her apart and eat her alive.
> Lately even imagining that fate was losing its power to make her legs move.
> Rainy Day stumbled and Mayor slowed to let the other mare catch up. It wasn't much of a respite, but every little bit helped.
> Her throat hurt from the lungfuls of air she forced down it. Her muscles felt like steel cables, taut and unyielding, painful to move. Her insides were stitched up as every last drop of blood was forced toward running.
> In moments she would collapse.
> Another howl sounded and it was near. Very near. Mayor could hear the yipping of the pack members as they chased after them. She thought she heard snapping of powerful jaws and the occasional growl.
> All she could do was enjoy these final moments before those teeth clamped around her throat.
> If she was lucky they'd go for her throat. That would be faster than the alternatives.
> She and Rainy Day couldn't fight. Two ponies without weapons or magic couldn't have fought off a pack of wolves in the best of times. All they had was a sick, injured pegasus and an out of shape, exhausted earth pony.
> Mayor Mare caught her friend's gaze and saw there reflected the same mortal terror she felt in her own heart. The very same knowledge that they wouldn't see the sunrise. That they would die soon.
> Once more, even though it was hopeless, she glanced around for a way out.
> There were some trees, but they were spindly and the lowest branches were too high up to reach. If Rainy Day could have flown, she could have saved herself, but Mayor was certainly doomed.
> Maybe, though.
"Tree!" she gasped and angled toward it.
> Rainy Day didn't answer, but she followed, dumbly. Sweat was pouring off her and there was a stink of urine. Mayor didn't remember when that had happened. Probably during one of the blood-curdling howls the wolves made as they hunted.
> She saw a way out. It was for one of them only, but that was better than neither of them surviving. It might just prolong the inevitable, but so had the past hour or so of desperate running.
> Mayor held her breath for a split second to listen for the wolf pack. She could hear their sharp panting and the rustle of grass as they ran. Maybe a minute?
> She aimed herself at the tree and twisted sideways. Her flank smacked against the trunk, but Mayor ignored the pain and welcomed the support.
"Up- me- up!"
> The words barely came out with her gasps for air, but Rainy Day understood. The branches were too high to jump, but with Mayor giving her a boost, the light pegasus could perhaps make it.
> Only one of them, but that was better than zero. Mayor forced herself not to think about her own fate and instead concentrated on her friend. She'd be safe in a tree. Maybe the wolves would leave after they had their meal.
> Most importantly, she would have hope.
> Rainy Day was shaking her head, horrified at the thought.
"Go!"
> Her friend didn't move and their time was running out.
"GO!"
> Mayor put her heart and soul into the command. The fact that she wouldn't have to watch Rainy Day die, that she wouldn't see her choking on her own blood with fangs around her throat was the only positive thing in the entire situation.
> There was no disobeying her tone, borne out of her years as a leader and a source of authority as much as out of her mortal terror.
> Her legs nearly buckled under her when Rainy Day climbed up on her back and they both almost toppled over. The pegasus quickly regained her balance and stood on her hind legs.
> Mayor tried to lift herself as high as she could, praying to Celestia that the extra hoof or so would be enough.
> The weight vanished from her and she heard hooves scrabbling on bark as Rainy Day lifted herself onto the lowest branches.
> "Jump! I'll pull you up!"
> Sudden hope flared and Mayor reached as far up the trunk as she could. She forced her hind legs to strengthen and stretched out her torso.
> Rainy Day was hanging from her midriff, with her good wing outstretched for balance. Their hooves touched.
> It wasn't enough.
> "Jump!"
> Mayor tried, letting fear fuel her abused muscles. She crouched and pushed with all her might.
> Her hind legs simply folded up under her. There was no strength left there.
> "No! Try again!"
> It took Mayor several long seconds to get on her hooves once more and she knew it was useless. Her limbs simply didn't obey her anymore, not after the effort she had forced herself through.
> Her time had run out anyway. A low growl sounded from many throats and Mayor turned around to stare into gray, furry death. She pressed against the tree and if there had been anything left in her bladder it would have released.
> There was no thought in those eyes, no mercy and no pity, just hunger.
> They weren't Timber Wolves, but no less frightening even with their smaller size. Mayor saw six in the pack as they spread out to encircle her.
> She was a new type of creature to them and they were being cautious. That was perhaps the only reason she was still alive. They had preferred to chase the ponies to exhaustion, rather than pounce on them at the first opportunity.
"GO AWAY!"
> There was almost no breath in that yell, but Mayor gave it her best. The wolves cringed momentarily and a few looked around in surprise, but most of them kept coming.
> Long forgotten instinct rose up in her and the mare kicked her hind leg at the tree behind her. It was feeble and her muscle screamed in protest, but she had to show these predators that she would fight.
> It didn't deter them.
> "Leave us!" Rainy Day shouted from the tree. "Go! Run!"
"Buck you! Go away!"
> Their combined efforts stayed the attack for a few more seconds as some of the smaller wolves looked at the larger specimen in the middle. The pack leader barked and jumped a hoofstep closer.
"NOOO!"
> Mayor had put all she had in the scream and it felt as if her larynx was tearing.
> She heard Rainy Day yelling something and hitting the wood with her hoof to make more noise.
> If only they had fire, Mayor thought. She glanced around for any kind of a weapon and spotted a small stone by her hoof. She picked it up and hurled it as best she could in one, swift, fluid motion.
> Her aim was bad and the strength wasn't there anymore, but it hit one of the wolves in its side, making the beast yelp and jump away. Mayor looked for more stones, but none of the remaining ones were large enough.
"Shit!"
> She suddenly realized that the wolves had almost completely encircled her. She considered running again. Maybe she could lead them away from Rainy Day.
> Her head shook in denial almost by itself as soon as she had the thought. The best she could hope for would be a stumbling gait and the wolves would be on her in seconds. They had almost lost the last bits of wariness toward this new type of prey.
> The pack leader snarled and dashed forward, and all choice was taken out of Mayor's hooves.
> She twirled around, but it was too slow. There was no time to plant her forehooves well enough for a buck. Maybe if she caught the bite on her rump she would buy herself a split second to deliver a good kick.
> Mayor closed her eyes and braced for those fangs to tear into her back.
> Rainy Day's scream seemed to go on and on.
>...
> Time rushed back into the world. There was a surprised yelp and sudden shouting. The voices were the most welcome thing Mayor Mare had ever heard in her life. They were nomad voices.
> She turned and saw upright, fur-clad hunters as the fell on the pack of confused and panicking animals with spears.
> The nomads had come!
> How they had managed to catch them she would never know. How they could have sneaked up on a pack of wolves was another mystery. Perhaps it spoke to their skill as hunters.
> Perhaps the ponies' shouting had distracted the beasts.
> She looked down at the large wolf on the grass by her hooves. It was thrashing and snapping its jaws as dark liquid poured out of its mouth.
> The beast was pierced clean through its chest by a spear and the shaft was sticking up into the air like a grotesque limb. The gray fur was already stained by blood.
> As she gazed, dumbstruck, into the wolf's black eyes, Willow ran into her field of vision and jumped. He stabbed mightily down and pinned the creature to the ground with another spear.
> It didn't cry out in pain, but the sound it made was even more horrifying. Mayor Mare knew she would remember it for the rest of her life.
> The last breath left it, gurgling and liquid as it choked on blood. The eyes didn't close, even as the wolf stilled, and it kept staring right at her in death.
> Mayor was vaguely aware of noise around her, of shouts, and barking, and stabbing, bloody spears. She later recalled also the screams of pain from the nomads. The contest wasn't completely one-sided and the wolves fought back.
> At the time, all she could do was gaze into the eyes of death, forever sightless. At the dribble of rich, blood, black in the moonlight, as it pooled on the grass under the creature.
> At Willow's hand, still holding the spear which had pierced the wolf.
> She glanced up at the young hunter. His face was alight with excitement and joy. He delighted in that kill. He grinned fiercely at her as he put his hind hoof on the dead wolf and jerked his spear free.
> It came out covered in blood, which dripped freely down on the body of the beast he had killed. However dark it was, to Mayor that blood was the most vivid red she had ever seen.
> Blood and death. This was his world. This was a game to him, a contest of strength and skill.
> He liked to kill things.
> He had saved her life. Her and Rainy Day's.
> Darkness overtook her and Mayor felt, more than saw, the ground rush up to meet her.

> ~~~~

> Perhaps it was lucky that she didn't dream, for whatever her mind might have conjured up would surely turn into nightmares.
> Mayor had time to think that one clear thought before the agony made itself known.
"Ooow!"
> Her head was swinging loosely and her muzzle smacked into bronze nomad skin. An arm held her hind legs in place and an elbow dug into her ribs. More importantly, every muscle was pure fire.
> Each step the nomad took sent jolts of fresh pain into her limbs. She had a pounding headache and her legs refused to move.
> They were carrying her back. It took extreme effort, but Mayor managed to turn her head and looked around. She saw Rainy Day slung across another hunter's shoulder in much the same position as she herself. The other mare was still unconscious.
> Mayor wished she could slip back under. The way she was made to stretch as she hanged down from the hunter's grip was pulling her poor, abused muscles beyond their endurance.
"Ahh, ah, please! Ow!"
> She tried to twist, but the nomad who had her shouted something and slapped her rump with his other paw. Mayor didn't even register that pain and she continued to struggle.
> At last the hunter growled something which sounded unpleasant and simply tossed her over his shoulder. She landed on the grass with a thump which knocked all breath out of her lungs.
> Her vision swam and Mayor curled up into a ball, as she waited for the agony in her muscles to lessen. Her limbs shook and jerked uncontrollably and she gasped for air now that her barrel was no longer restricted.
> Above her, an argument was taking place. The hunter who had carried her was shouting something, but she didn't even try to understand. He pointed at her and slapped his paw on the knife at his waist.
> Willow was there too, arguing back. Mayor noted that he had a wolf carcass slung across his shoulder. It wast the big beast, the pack leader and its blood was smeared all over the young nomad's arms like gruesome paint.
> After some more heated discussion, Willow thrust the animal at the other hunter, who took it, put it on his shoulder and walked off.
> They were changing their burdens, undoubtedly because of her struggling. Willow didn't look too pleased with the development. He grabbed the bit of rope around her neck and shouted at her: "Irekh! Irekh! Yavak!"
> She knew what he wanted. She would have, even if Mayor hadn't recognized the words for 'come' and 'move'. She did her best to stand up, but even placing a hoof flat on the ground proved too much.
> The flaring ache made her whimper and there was no strength in her limbs.
"Please. I need to rest. Just a bit, please!"
> The headache made it hard to think, but she grasped for the correct words.
"Kevtekh!"
> Willow looked after his friends, who hadn't stood around to wait, and growled a little to himself. He decided she was being truthful and grabbed the poor mare. He lifted her easily and put her up over his shoulder.
> That was apparently how the nomads carried their burdens. It made sense to Mayor, since their backs went straight up due to their bipedal nature, but it certainly didn't make it pleasant.
> It wasn't comfortable, but it was better than hanging down by her hips. She couldn't suppress a whimper of pain as, once again, her muscles were forced to stretch.
> Willow didn't pay her any mind and began to walk.
> She tried to turn her head enough to look ahead, at where they were going, but Mayor didn't have the strength for that. Instead, she watched the landscape behind them. It was flat and featureless. She didn't recognize any of it.
> How much further to the camp? Would the rest of the tribe have waited for these hunters to bring back two escaped mares?
> Probably not, Mayor decided. They must have moved on and Willow's band was catching up to the rest. Had they already passed the nomads' second camp? How much longer until they found the rest of the people? She needed Salki, she needed to talk to him.
> She needed to learn to talk to him.
> Escape was impossible, especially for two lone mares. They were prey animals in this land and she had no doubt there were worse things out there than wolves.
> It would have to be plan B. Diplomacy. Her only remaining option.

> ~~~~

> The sun had nearly set and still they hadn't caught up to the main camp. After her little episode Mayor had tried to gauge the nomads' speed. The hunters were moving slowly, probably because they were carrying several of the wolf carcasses as well as the two mares and their own leather packs.
> They had stopped at a small stream and while both Mayor Mare and Rainy Day had been able to stand enough to drink, they hadn't made it more than a few steps before the pegasus' legs cramped up and she fell to the ground, crying and writhing in pain.
> The hunters argued a little, but one of them picked her up again.
> Mayor made it several hundred hoofsteps before she couldn't go on. She didn't get the cramps, but there was simply no strength left in her hind legs and they folded underneath her.
> She tried to ask Willow for a few minutes' rest amidst her panting, but the young nomad quickly lost his patience and grabbed her once more.
> It was unpleasant for both of them. Willow was smeared with the wolf's blood and greasy from his own sweat, both of which proved nearly impossible for Mayor to ignore. She actually wished he would wear his clothes made of animal fur, just so there would be something between her and his body.
> Some of the other hunters had wrapped up as the day wore on, but most of them were bare, except for a scrap around their waist. Their bodies glistened in the setting sun, slick with sweat which she simply couldn't get out of her nose.
> She wasn't exactly fresh herself, especially after the way she had peed herself in terror the night before, but Mayor was willing to bet she didn't stink as badly to them!
> The trip didn't last much longer, however, and as soon as the sun was fully down the nomads stopped and began discussing something. They tossed their wolf carcasses down on a pile and one of them hurried off in a strange, bent-over walk. The rest of them searched a small area and tossed away any stones they found.
> Mayor was sitting on the grass and watching them in confusion as she tried to figure out what they were doing. Rainy Day was leaning against her side and she welcomed the pegasus' warmth.
> It felt as if her fever was coming back and the mare had slept throughout the day, but now she was up and alert.
> "I hate this."
"Mm?"
> "This," Rainy Day said and stretched out a forehoof toward the nomads. "They saved our lives, but they're taking us back. I bucking hate it!"
> Mayor agreed. Her own emotions about being rescued from a gruesome and certain death by these nomads were a tangle she wasn't yet ready to unravel.
"At least we're still alive. We'll try again."
> "You think they'll ever leave us unwatched ever again?"
"Yeah, they will."
> Rainy Day was silent for a moment as she stared at Mayor in shock. "Huh?! What?" She suddenly had a thought and shrugged. "They don't care right now because they know we can barely walk. As soon as we're better, they'll tie us back up and set a watch."
"No, I don't think so. They know we won't try to run away again, not with wolves around the place."
> "But we are?"
> Mayor shook her head firmly.
"No. I'll learn their language and convince them to take us back. There's no other way. I'm sure we can barter. Equestria must have plenty of things they might want!"
> If the other mare had any faith in this plan, Mayor couldn't tell. Rainy Day just stared off at the slowly fading glow in the west.
"We're alive and that's what matters. Focus on resting. You should eat something."
> That last made the pegasus mare bark a laugh. "So should you, Mayor."
"I'm not hungry."
> "Neither am I."
> Both mares shifted slightly to press more tightly against each other. The sun had gone down and the chill of the night was already making itself felt. Mayor was mentally preparing herself for a cold, unpleasant night and the suffering that would cause with her muscle fatigue.
> The hunter who had hurried off earlier came back with his forelegs piled up high with bits of wood. Most of it was just thin branches from nearby bushes, but he'd gathered a lot of it. Maybe enough to last through the night, Mayor guessed.
"At least it looks like we'll have a fire."
> She wondered how the nomads would light it. She hadn't seen their technique at their last camp since Gol had simply gone to their neighbors to fetch a burning stick to start hers.
> Her question was answered soon when an older hunter fished out a small rock from his pack. He struck it against his spearhead and the stone produced a lot of sparks. It only took him a few hits to get a small flame going and soon he had a cosy fire.
> If only she had known, maybe she could have stolen. It was flint, Mayor guessed, and she was sure she could have started a fire with that the previous night. She could have fended off the wolves.
> Except- the nomads would still have found them.
> The other hunters gathered around the campfire and sat in a loose circle. They grabbed pieces of dried meat from one of the packs and began to tear at it with their canines.
> There didn't seem to be a place for the ponies in that group.
> It wasn't yet cold enough to be really uncomfortable, but Mayor was aware how Rainy Day was shivering beside her. The fever was coming back, no doubt thanks to the previous night's exertions. She had known it would, but Mayor had hoped they'd be in Equestria by then.
> She'd simply have to swallow her pride and beg, if only for the sake of her friend.
"Come."
> "Where?"
"You need the fire. You're ill. Come."
> Rainy Day didn't argue and followed her. 
> The nomads were babbling in their strange language, but fell silent when they noticed the mares approaching. Willow glared at them, but didn't make any gesture or said anything.
"Please?" Mayor said. "Um, zog, kevtekh, gal."
> "What was that?" Rainy Day murmured.
"I just said 'stop', 'lie down' and 'fire. I hope they'll understand."
> The hunters just watched. By now they all knew the ponies could talk and even say a few words, but Mayor didn't know if they actually understood they were fully sentient, or just thought them clever animals.
> Out of desperation, she moved aside and nudged Rainy Day a bit closer.
"Stand."
> The mare obeyed and her legs noticeably trembled with the effort. After a moment her head lowered.
"See? Kevtekh, gal. Please."
> They could surely see how cold and weak Rainy Day was. Mayor reached for the nearest nomad, who thankfully didn't resist as she took his paw and placed it on Rainy Day's head.
"She has a fever. We need the fire."
> Explaining it in Equestrian was probably useless, but saying words at least showed the nomads that there was something to be understood.
> When she released him, the hunter kept his paw on Rainy Day and patted her a few times, then pulled back. He spoke some words she didn't understand and Willow answered. A few of the others chimed in, and then the two nearest nomads shuffled aside.
> The gesture was clear. They were making room around the fire for the ponies and Mayor flashed them all a grateful smile.
"Thank you! Drat, I didn't ask Salki how to say it in nomad!"
> She showed her gratitude in a more physical way and leaned over to brush her muzzle against the nomad's forearm. She ignored the smell, the grime and the piece of meat in his paw.
> The two mares sat by the fire and Rainy Day soon folded down to the ground. She was still shivering a little, but the radiant warmth from the flames was helping. Combined with their fur and tails, which they wrapped around themselves, it was almost pleasant.
> Rainy Day eventually fell asleep and became still, but Mayor remained awake and watched the hunters talk and eat. Perhaps she could pick up a fresh word or two.

> ~~~~

> Mayor Mare woke up before everyone else. The fire in the middle had gone out, but the sun was already up and warming her. She still felt the remnants of the night's chill in her bones, along with the lingering ache of muscle fatigue, but it wasn't as bad as she had feared.
> Once she stretched and moved she would be fine, as long as they didn't drive her too quickly, Mayor thought.
> She looked around at the hunters, who were all sound asleep. The exertion of the past few days must have tired them out, she guessed. It would have exhausted anypony, even Equestria's top athletes, to say nothing of the bite wounds some of them had suffered from the wolf pack.
> As far as Mayor could tell, none of them were awake yet. A few of them were snoring, but for the most part Willow and the others slept soundlessly.
> Rainy Day was also still out, curled up in a ball of fur and feathers and wedged under Mayor's chin to capture as much warmth as she could find. The first rays of sunlight were starting to brush the pegasus' coat and made her glitter with a myriad pinpricks of light.
> The sun caught tiny droplets of dew caught in her fur and turned them into softly glowing gems, everywhere except where Mayor's head had been lying. Rainy Day's fur was dry in that spot.
> She had to resist the urge to wipe the water away, since all she would achieve would be to soak that water through their fur. If she left it alone, the dew would evaporate quickly in the sunlight and they'd end up dry.
> Mayor decided to lie there, as still and quiet as she could for as long as they would let her. She wouldn't move until the nomads got up and made her. The day would probably be hard and tiresome enough without looking for extra exercise on her own.
> It didn't look as if the hunters would wake soon, which gave Mayor some more time to simply rest.
> She thought back to the previous couple of days and shuddered. By all rights she should be dead and Rainy Day probably too. In her mind's eye, the wolf was even bigger and its teeth even larger as it leapt for her.
> Mayor began to shake as the full realization cemented in her brain. She had been perhaps a hoofstep away from a painful and gruesome death.
> She had never been in danger of dying before in her life. Equestria was safe. Ponies could not usually get hurt, unless it was an accident. Even the crazy monsters which had plagued Ponyville lately had never actually injured anypony.
> This world, though...
> There was death at every hoofstep. Even beside the threat of predators and the nomads' hunger, she could easily starve to death in this barren landscape. Grass would only get her so far.
> It had been a long time since her university days, but Mayor remembered bits of her biology lectures and knew modern ponies couldn't subsist on grass indefinitely. Their ancestors could, but that was before they discovered fire and began adapting to a more varied and cooked food.
> She could extend her life up to a point with an all-grass diet, but sooner or later she would need to find fruit or grain to supplement the nutrients her body needed. It didn't look like there was anything like that in this nomad world.
> As ironic as it sounded in her head, if they couldn't find a way home, Mayor and Rainy Day would have died of malnourishment with their bellies full of grass.
> In fact, that might still happen, now that they were stuck with the nomads. Unless she could convince Salki and Willow, or perhaps Intor, to give them more varied food, the two were still in danger of that insidious type of starvation.
> That was another reason she had to learn their language.
> They would also need salt. Perhaps there was rock salt in this world, or seas of salt water, hopefully not prohibitively far away. The nomads likely needed salt too, so maybe they would give the ponies some.
> Aside from their dietary requirements, Mayor knew they would need warm clothes for the winter. It was fine to walk around in nothing but a shawl in Ponyville, where a warm house was never more than a few hoofsteps away, but this landscape was too unforgiving.
> Maybe she could share the nomads' fire, especially if the previous night had been any indication, but there was no fire while the nomads moved from one camp to the next. It looked to be late autumn or early winter in this strange world, which meant she could expect snow and freezing temperature soon.
> Mayor avoided thinking about it, but her ears still laid flat when she glanced over the hunters' animal skins.
> As detestable as it was, it was either that or freezing to death. They didn't seem to have cotton, or even wool.
> Those were the immediate needs she could identify. Who knew what else would go wrong over the long term. They didn't have access to doctors, not even so much as a dentist. Mayor felt around her mouth with her tongue. They'd have to find ways to clean their teeth to keep them healthy as long as possible.
> Maybe it wouldn't be a problem, especially if she learned enough of the nomadic language to bargain with the people and offer them riches from Equestria in exchange for taking her back.
> After her recent brush with the very real possibility of death or injury in this land, Mayor was less inclined to be optimistic about their escape. She would have to think of the long term.
> Luckily her friend stirred as the sun reached her eyes. It saved Mayor from being alone with her depressing thoughts.
"Morning, Rainy Day."
> The mare blinked in the light, but she didn't move. "Mayor? Where- oh..."
> Her realization of where they were and what had happened flattened Rainy Day's ears and she squeezed her eyes shut. "So they're taking us back?"
"Quietly. Let's rest for as long as we can. I think they'll make us walk today."
> The other mare just gave a nod.
"Look around. Do you recognize anything? Did we reach the nomad's camp from the other day yet?"
> This made Rainy Day move and chilly morning air brushed the warm patches she had been covering on Mayor's coat. She didn't complain and waited until her keen-eyed friend glanced all around them.
> "Sorry," she finally said, "I don't recognize anything. I think we're beyond where the nomad camp was."
"I didn't see it yesterday. I was looking out for fire pits."
> "Maybe this group took a shortcut or something."
"Yeah, maybe."
> There was no telling how much further until they caught up to the rest of the people, but Mayor hoped it wasn't too far. The pace these hunters would set would undoubtedly be faster than what the whole group could manage.
> Rainy Day settled back down, careful to take the warm and dry spot she had occupied before. The grass around them was full of dew.
> Mayor had intended to lie and rest for as long as possible, but thinking and talking had woken her up fully and she felt like she needed to be doing things.
"We should eat before they wake up. I don't think they'll wait for us."
> "Okay."
> They stood up as quietly as they could and walked a few paces away. Mayor glanced back to make sure they hadn't woken up any of the nomads, and found herself looking directly into the eyes of one of them. Her ears immediately flattened without a conscious thought.
> He didn't raise an alarm, but just to be sure Mayor waved a hoof vaguely around herself, then pointed at her open mouth.
> Maybe the nomad understood her gesture, or maybe he simply didn't care, because he still didn't move or speak. He kept watching and the mare shrugged a little to herself and joined Rainy Day, who was already browsing for the youngest, tenderest grass.
"How are you feeling?"
> Her friend lifted her head up and finished chewing while her eyes unfocused. After she swallowed she shrugged. "Tired. Everything hurts."
"Your wing?"
> "That hurts too. I guess it's healing, but it's hard to tell."
"Fever?"
> "Dunno. Here, feel," Rainy Day offered and took a step closer so they could brush their muzzles together.
> Mayor felt around her friend's face, even took one of her ears between her lips to try and guess at her temperature. She felt warm, but it was hard to tell without a point of comparison.
"I can't really tell. I wish we had a thermometer or something."
> "Here, let me feel you," Rainy Day suggested and went ahead without waiting for Mayor's agreement. She felt around her muzzle, doing mostly the same things Mayor had done earlier.
> "I dunno. Maybe you have a bit of a fever too?"
"Wouldn't surprise me, not after last night."
> "Anyway, I can walk, I think. My legs hurt, but I'll be fine."
> It was the same for Mayor Mare. Standing and stretching was helping, even if it made her muscles burn with residual fatigue. Her limbs shook and jerked if she moved too fast, but she would be fine after she ate and warmed up.
> They both went back to cropping the grass. Mayor decided that Rainy Day's appetite was a good sign. She would beat her infection.
> A sound caught her attention and Mayor glanced back to the cold fire pit. Another of the nomads was awake and sitting upright as he stretched out his arms. The first one she had spotted was already standing.
> Time for feeding was growing short and Mayor bent back down to stuff as much of the tasteless, low-energy grass into her belly as she could. She heard one of the hunters walk over, but she ignored it other than tracking him with her ear.
> The burly, animal-skin clad body walked past her a few steps, then stopped. Mayor was wondering what the nomad was doing, when she noticed her was fumbling with the strap of fur around his midriff.
> She heard a splashing sound at the same time as the nomad let out a sigh.
> Oh.
> Even before the smell reached her Mayor turned around and continued her feeding in the other direction. She didn't want to risk chancing upon that particular patch of ground.
> On the plus side, the grass she was taking in was full of dew, so it also served very nicely to slake her thirst. That was one advantage the ponies had over the nomads, who had to drink from their smelly water skins.
> She took another quick glance back at the group and saw that most of them had woken up. One particular hunter, Mayor thought it was the one who had carried her the previous day, was crouching down at the opposite side of the fire and staring straight ahead with a look of fierce concentration.
> Good thing he hadn't come to do that near her, she thought. The others dispersed to do their various business and the nomads who were finished took out strips of dried meat from their pack and began to tear into them with their teeth.
> They would be moving on pretty soon, she was sure of it.
>...
> Before much longer the ponies had fresh ropes around their necks. Again Rainy Day was tied to Mayor, whose line was being held personally by Willow. It was about what she had expected, but it wasn't any less demeaning than the previous time.
> She was ready to get on with it, but the nomads were having a small argument over the wolf corpses. The best Mayor could read from their tones and facial expressions, most of the nomads wanted to leave them behind. Willow and a few of the younger hunters insisted they lug the beasts all the way.
> The debate was getting quite heated, with raised voices and angry gestures of their forelegs. It looked like the faction who wanted to leave them was winning though. That was just as well. Mayor wouldn't have to look at the gruesome trophies and be constantly reminded of how near she had come to dying.
> In the end the argument reached some kind of a conclusion and Willow apparently lost. He was frowning in annoyance as he beckoned to one of the older nomads. Mayor watched as the hunter came closer. She remembered it was the same one who had lit the fire the previous night. He was probably the most experienced among them.
> He pulled out his stone knife and Mayor suddenly had a bad feeling in her stomach, especially when two of the others rolled the biggest wolf carcass on its back.
> There was half-chewed grass in her mouth, but Mayor almost forgot about it as she watched in horror. She should have looked away, but something about the spectacle held her attention like a vice.
> The old hunter plunged his knife into the wolf's neck. She could hear the sickening sound, a 'schlick' unlike anything she had experienced before. Then the nomad began to saw at the wolf's hide as he dragged the knife down the chest and belly.
> Mayor remembered her mouthful and forced herself to swallow, though she had lost all semblance of appetite. She glanced over to Where Rainy Day was facing away with her head down in the grass. Hopefully she wouldn't turn around.
> Once that cut was done, the hunter lifted his knife up. Dark, oily blood dripped from it, already viscous and congealed. He stuck it back and cut along the inside of the wolf's foreleg.
> It still didn't make sense to Mayor. She couldn't understand why they would do this and what they hoped to achieve, but she also couldn't quite tear her eyes away. Her stomach was starting to feel very queasy and she swallowed her spit several times in an effort to calm it down.
> The nomad worked quickly and efficiently with the others helping him by holding the carcass in place. Pretty soon the incisions were complete and he put his knife down.
> Maybe it was just some kind of a ritual, Mayor thought. Perhaps they would do something similar to the other wolves, then bury them or something.
> Her breath caught as the old hunter stuck his claws into the new wound and gripped. He pulled the skin away with a slick, tearing, utterly sickening sound.
> Bile rose up from Mayor's stomach and she barely stopped herself from throwing up everything she had just eaten. She focused her stare at the ground and concentrated on breathing.
> She kept swallowing her saliva as she slowly forced the grass back into her belly.
> Then she made a mistake of looking up again.
> The naked body of the wolf was just *so red*. The nomads were simply peeling the skin away and she saw the muscle, the ligaments, even bits of bone. Most of its hide was already loose, but it was still attached on the back and around the neck.
> Perhaps the most gruesome sight were the paws, which were still covered with fur and looked like some kind of grotesque boots.
> They were undressing it as if the wolf had been wearing a coat.
> There was no stopping it and Mayor's stomach turned. She twirled in spot so she wouldn't accidentally see any more, but her breakfast came up and spewed from her mouth.
> "Mayor?! Are you okay?!" Rainy Day asked in surprise and rushed over. The only blessing was that the other mare was so concerned with her friend that she didn't pay any attention to what the nomads were doing.
> Her vomit ended with a couple of dry heaves, then Mayor threw a leg around Rainy Day to keep her facing away.
"Don't look! Don't look!"
> "What?" Rainy Day exclaimed and began to turn despite Mayor's words. Luckily she wasn't strong enough to overpower an earth pony.
"I said don't! They're- It's bad. Just look this way."
> She could feel the pegasus trembling in her hooves and her ears focused back. Her curiosity would be her downfall, but Mayor did her best.
"It doesn't matter. It's fine. We knew they eat meat and wear animal skins, I just wasn't ready for it. Still, don't look. It's better not to know."
> Her words struck home and Rainy Day stopped trying to twist. She went completely stiff and lowered her head. "You're right, I don't wanna look. You can let me go."
> Mayor did so, and they moved away from the puddle of her vomit. She'd lost any benefit she might have had from a meal, but Mayor didn't care. She wasn't hungry anymore.
> It took an effort of will, but the foul taste in her mouth helped and she bent her head down once more. She wanted to run away far from the place, but she was already near the limit of what her rope would allow.
> Of course Willow was watching the horrific spectacle with deep interest, which meant she and Rainy Day couldn't go very far from it. Perhaps the only piece of good news was that the butchery was happening downwind from them.
> She needed to wash the taste of bile out, so Mayor licked at the grass. Most of the dew had evaporated, but if she turned the stalks over she could get some trapped moisture. She had to clean her mouth and at least get some water in her for the march ahead.
> Her belly kept twisting and she had to pause several times to concentrate, as the image of that poor, mangled body kept forcing itself back into her mind's eye.
> It took serious effort, but Mayor managed to ignore the sounds which were coming from behind them. Rainy Day kept listening and her face was looking decidedly green, but at least she managed to hold on to her breakfast.
> They soon reached as far as the rope would allow and Willow gave her a warning tug. Mayor stopped there and sought for more dew to lick up.
> Suddenly she was looking forward to walking away from that place.

> ~~~~

> By the time the hunters were ready to leave their camp, Mayor Mare was anxious to go. She and Rainy Day had managed to keep from looking at the nomads' butchery, but the sounds and smells from their gruesome work were making it very hard to retain the contents of their stomachs.
> It was already too late for Mayor, but Rainy Day still had a chance to keep her breakfast down and the poor mare kept her gaze focused on the distant horizon and her ears as flat as they would go in an effort to keep from seeing and hearing any more.
> Unfortunately she couldn't block her nose and Mayor could see her friend desperately swallowing and holding her breath.
> At long last the group of hunters began to walk and the two mares were only too eager to follow.
> Except, only a few hoofsteps later Mayor reached the end of her rope. Willow was not moving! She risked a glance behind and saw the young nomad rolling up those bloody pieces of skin and tying a string around them.
> She quickly turned away and luckily it was less bad than seeing the naked corpses of the wolves. This way she could almost convince herself it was just a bundle of some strange fabric over which somepony had spilled red paint.
> The horror became more abstract.
> Rainy Day had gone ahead and Mayor couldn't really fault her. She too wanted to be as far away from that horrible sight in the grass. The nomads hadn't bothered to bury the remains after all.
> To her relief the loop around her neck slackened and she heard Willow walking over. She tried to take another step, but her captor tugged on the rope to bring her to a halt again. He obviously wanted her to walk behind him.
> There was nothing she could do but stand patiently while the hunter caught up to her. Mayor waited for him to walk past, but he stopped at her side and fumbled with his burden.
> She kept her ears turned to him, but didn't want to look in case she saw something disgusting. Unfortunately that meant she was completely unprepared when a soft and squishy thing flopped on her back with a wet thud.
> Mayor squealed as she realized what it was and jerked her rear to dislodge the horrible bundle. It slid off and Willow shouted something in anger. His paw came down to slap her flank and he yelled at her: "Zog! Mori zog! Zog!"
> She knew both words. She had to stop fidgeting or he would tie her down. Mayor couldn't help low whimpers from escaping her muzzle as Willow bent down and retrieved his roll of skins. She trembled, but stood her ground while he tossed it across her back once more.
> Her stomach twisted alarmingly, although there wasn't much in it and Mayor was able to keep from throwing up again.
> She still didn't look, but the mere thought of freshly removed skins on her back was utterly disgusting. The fur touching hers felt a little like another pony leaning against her, but the knowledge of what it was made all the difference.
> Willow took a fresh length of rope from his pack and tied the burden to her as tightly as he could. The crude fibers of the string dug into her soft belly and pressed the skins tightly down.
> It wasn't heavy, not in the least, but Mayor would have exchanged it for all the hunters' packs if it meant getting pieces of dead wolves off her.
> Unfortunately there was no choice. She understood implicitly that Willow would simply beat her until he got his way. Maybe it was his way of taking at least *some* kind of revenge since he couldn't beat her while they were walking.
> He suddenly moved and gave her leading rope a slight tug. Mayor fell in step slightly behind the nomad and they were off.
> Perhaps the walking would eventually take her mind off the terrible pack on her back, Mayor thought. She kept her eyes on the grass under her hooves and focused on her steps. Falling over and smearing that dead skin against herself would be thoroughly unpleasant, not to mention the beating she would be sure to receive if she damaged Willow's prize.
> Yes, she believed he would beat her for that, even if he then had to carry her back.
> She wondered why he had wanted the wolf skins so desperately that he had his group carry those carcases all the way yesterday. She also didn't know why they would have left them behind now.
> Perhaps they were too heavy and the hunters had rebelled against carrying them, so Willow convinced them to just take what he really wanted?
> Why skins, though? She knew for a fact they had plenty of them back at the camp. They were just as gruesome, but at least those were dry already and weren't dripping with blood. She could *almost* get used to the idea of sleeping in a pile of animal skins if her life depended on it, but Mayor hadn't wanted to see how they were made.
> She had to focus on her hooves. She didn't want to fall, especially with how close beside her Willow was walking.
> He held her rope with only a short length between them. Perhaps he was worried she would try and dislodge his precious skins. As if she didn't know he would beat her for that.
> Whatever, Mayor thought. Let him walk beside her, at that point she just wanted to get back to the camp and to the relative safety of Intor's protection against the impatient and hot-tempered young hunter.
> At least, she thought grimly, the skins tied to her back helped warm her up.

> ~~~~

> They caught up to the rest of the nomad camp in the late afternoon, while the large group was settling down for the night. By that time, both Mayor and Rainy Day were completely exhausted and struggling to put one hoof in front of the other.
> Their limbs trembled and their breath, as they gasped for air, was ragged. Mayor found herself almost happy to see the place of her captivity, if only because her effort would end.
> As soon as they were spotted, the people raised up a cheer for the band of hunters and Willow rushed over to her. He shrugged his animal-hide pack off his shoulder beside her and simply dropped her lead rope.
> Then he impatiently cut the string tying the bundle of wolf skins to her and lifted them above his head with a triumphant shout.
> The burden had been hardly noticeable, but Mayor still couldn't help sighing in relief as the weight was lifted from her. A few steps ahead she saw her friend slump to the ground. Rainy Day's tongue lolled out and she tried to lick the spittle from her muzzle. "Thank... Celestia," she panted.
> She couldn't rest just yet, but Mayor sat beside the downed mare so they could catch their breath. All her muscles felt as if they were on fire and she swayed as she tried to remain upright.
> While the nomads gathered around Willow and the others with what looked like questions about their adventure the two mares were almost forgotten. Almost, but not quite.
> Salki rushed up to Mayor Mare and jabbered at her in his strange tongue and he put his arms around her head. She found herself relieved and happy to see him again.
"Please- water," she murmured. "Us. Salki, us. Water."
> He quickly understood and dashed away. Mayor let her head lower as she waited, but she noticed two more nomads approaching them. Intor and Gol came over and the young female quickly fell to her knees so she could pet Rainy Day.
> Her mother crouched down beside Mayor and grabbed her muzzle. The mare didn't resist as the nomad pulled her head this way and that, and peered into her eyes and mouth. She grabbed her foreleg around the fetlock and tugged, and Mayor allowed Intor to lift her hoof.
> Intor poked a finger at her frog, inspecting for any damage, Mayor guessed. She wanted to make sure her livestock was unharmed, and while it reminded the mare about her position, she didn't mind too much.
> Next, the older female bent down to Rainy Day and repeated her examination. The pony was so exhausted that she didn't resist and hardly even grunted with pain when the nomad poked at her injured wing.
> Everything seemed to be in order and Intor stood up and began pushing her way to her son. Gol opted to stay behind and went to scratch affectionately behind Mayor's ears. She was murmuring something, but the words blurred together and Mayor couldn't understand a single one.
"Yeah, I missed you too," she replied on a whim.
> They would survive, even if they were still captives. They had escaped an ugly death and their hard journey was over. Mayor found a strange kind of euphoria filling her and she smiled.
"I'm glad to see you, Gol. You people are better than the wolves."
> Presently, Salki returned with two skins of water and Mayor pushed her muzzle at one even before he could untie the nozzle. Luckily Gol grabbed the other skin and knelt down next to Rainy Day to water the pegasus.
> Soon the life-giving liquid splashed into Mayor's throat and she gulped it down greedily, hardly even noticing the unpleasant stink from the bag. She didn't stop until the skin was completely empty, then she burped and heaved a satisfied sigh.
"Thanks. Thank you."
> The youth grinned at her and responded: "'ellhom!"
> She was about to try and ask him how to say 'thank you' in his language, but Salki exclaimed in alarm and shuffled around to her side. Mayor turned her head to follow and saw him pawing at her back.
> His paw came away with dark red stains on his brown skin and he showed it to her. She didn't understand his question, but she interpreted the tone and his anxious expression: 'Are you hurt?"
"Oh. No, I guess the skins must have leaked."
> The wolf blood on her back would have bothered her a few hours ago, but Mayor was too tired to really care. She would wash it off later. She had nearly gotten used to the coppery smell of blood and it wouldn't keep her from sleeping.
"It's not mine," she told the distressed nomad. "See?"
> She ran her hoof down her stained flank to show him she didn't hurt anywhere. Despite that, Salki poked at her back some more until he reassured himself that there was no wound. When he looked at her questioningly she pointed her hoof at Willow, who was holding the biggest skin up above him to show his admiring public.
> The youth seemed to understand and relaxed. He wiped his paw clean on the grass and stood up to gaze adoringly at Willow.
> Mayor didn't like the way he seemed to fawn over the hunter, but she couldn't begrudge him. Apparently killing savage wolves bestowed great honor and esteem among the nomads. From what she had seen of their lifestyle Mayor could kind of understand that.
> Hunting meant survival and the wolves competed for the nomads' prey. Naturally they would be viewed as enemies and proof of their death would be a badge of honor. That would also explain why Willow had wanted the skins. They were buying him a lot of prestige.
> Salki kept staring at his new hero, but he stayed with Mayor and his paw sought out her ears to scratch. She leaned into his touch and watched the antics of the returning hunters and their admiring fans.
> It looked as if they were telling the story of how they had rescued the mares. Willow pointed at the two ponies and then mimed running on all fours. He panted and stuck his tongue out in an exaggeration of exhaustion, and the people laughed and slapped their thighs.
> Then he went back, picked up the wolf skin by the scruff of its neck and 'followed' the mares. He kept stopping and sniffing the air, as if wary.
> Mayor suddenly understood. The wolves could have been on them at any moment during that night, but they let them run, harried them, kept howling, so that they would exhaust themselves.
> It was a clever, if simple trick and she was suddenly angry with herself for having fallen to it. Equestrian ponies were a new thing, and judging from the way Willow pretend-sniffed the air, the wolves hadn't quite known what to make of them.
> That kept them following until the two of them had been nearly ready to fall over from sheer panic and exhaustion.
> She glared at the wolf skin and almost felt glad that it was dead and skinned. That simple beast had outsmarted two Equestrian citizens!
> Presently Willow tossed the skin back down and picked up his spear. This time he bent his legs and half-crouched, half-ran the same bit of grass again. He put one of his claws to his lips and blew some air past it at the watchers. He crept behind the imaginary wolves, pausing to let them move ahead.
> At the end of his short journey, Willow explained something she didn't quite catch, then roared while pointing at the wolf skin. He added some falsetto girlish voices, which Mayor instantly understood were a parody of herself and Rainy Day.
> The notion was further confirmed when many of the nomads looked back at the mares and laughed. Then Willow yelled and jumped forward. He swung his spear and stabbed it mightily into the ground next to the discarded wolf skin.
> He was a pretty good actor and for a moment Mayor was forcibly reminded of how he had pinned the lead wolf down with a single thrust of his spear. He stood still for a moment, breathing heavily, then yanked the spear out and finished his story.
> There were ragged cheers from the crowd and other nomads came forward to clap him on the back as the young hunter beamed with pride.
> Someone shouted something, which was probably a question because Willow turned in that direction and began talking once more, gesturing expansively with his forelegs and the spear.
> The main part of the story was over, however, and the nomads began to disperse. The other hunters were escorted off and given food and water, and Willow grudgingly accepted a hug from his mother and a skin of water. They talked in hushed tones and she inspected him for injuries.
> Then the female nomad picked up the discarded wolf skin and took it away, and Willow headed back to the mares. He seemed pleased with himself, but his grin slipped when he saw Mayor Mare and Rainy Day.
> She suddenly didn't like his look and her ears folded down in apprehension. Why was he angry with the ponies? Why now?
> He stalked over and Salki's grip around her neck tightened for a moment. He had seen it as well and the youth stood up. He tried to say something, but Willow barked a command and pointed a claw away.
> Salki cast Mayor a despairing look, but hurried off. Willow spoke again and Gol left as well.
> Mayor wondered what it was about and what the hunter wanted from her. As she watched, Willow bent down to where he had dropped his pack. He rummaged for a moment then took out a length of rope. He held it up, close to her face.
> She suddenly saw it was the piece she had bitten through to escape. Why had he kept it?!
> His words were angry and he shook the chewed rope, flicking it against her muzzle as punctuation to his words.
> Mayor understood. He was angry they had escaped. He had been angry about that, but hadn't done anything until they were safely back. Now it was time for punishment. She swallowed and stood up on shaky legs.
"It was my idea, okay? Um, ugu Rainy Day, za Mayor! Understand?"
> She pointed a hoof at her downed friend, who was watching them both warily. "Mayor, what's-"
"Shush."
> Mayor Mare kept her hoof at Rainy Day and firmly shook her head.
"Ugu. Ugu!"
> Then she put her hoof on her own chest and nodded. She even went as far as to click her teeth together at the rope.
"Za! It was my fault!"
> "Wait, don't- no, Mayor! We both came up with it! You don't have to-"
"Hush! You're hurt! Shut up and let me do this!"
> If Willow understood or not was hard to tell, but his eyes glittered angrily and he held the bit of rope in a grip so tight it made his knuckles white.
> He backed away and hauled on the string around her neck, which nearly sent Mayor falling. She stumbled, but remained on her hooves as the hunter dragged her a few steps away. She wondered what he would do.
> Surely he wouldn't kill her? Not now that he'd brought her back to the nomad camp? Surely if he were angry enough for that, he would have done it sooner and not bothered with leading the mares back?
> Her answer came when the nomad suddenly swung his foreleg. He still held the bit of chewed rope and it slapped across her back with a sharp smack.
"Ow!"
> She was both frightened at his rage and relieved he only meant to beat her, not actually murder her. The rope swished again and a new line of dull fire appeared on her rump.
"Buck!" Mayor yelled and hissed through her teeth on her inhale.
> She didn't get to say anything else before more blows rained down.
> He was angry and she guessed it was because they had slipped away on his watch. He blamed his own laziness on the mares. He had fallen asleep and they left, which made him feel as if he wasn't in control.
> The boy was nothing more than a bully, but he was growing up in a culture where bullying was a good thing. A land where brutality was rewarded.
> Despite knowing all this, Mayor couldn't help hating him for his blind and pointless revenge. She pressed her teeth together and tried to keep from yelping as he beat her.
> It didn't work for long and soon she was whinnying with each strike.
"Enough! Please!" she gasped. "You've- AAH! You've proved- OW! -your point! Please!"
> She saw Rainy Day clambering to her hooves. The idiot pegasus would come valiantly to her rescue and get beaten herself.
> Mayor opened her mouth to tell her to stay away, but just then the rope landed on her withers and it made her scream in agony.
> A new voice sounded out, sharp and loud and angry. The next blow didn't come and Mayor lifted her head.
> There was a female standing a few paces away, but she didn't look like the other nomad females in the camp.
> She had strips of red and white paint on her face, and she held a staff with some kind of animal skull attached on top. There were feathers in her mane and what looked like bronze bracelets around her forelegs.
> Everyone was staring at her and Willow's hand with the rope lowered.
> The female spoke again, in a deep and strong voice. She pointed a claw at Willow and jerked her limb the other way.
> He cast an angry look at the mare, but stepped aside. Only then did Mayor notice that Salki was standing beside this new type of nomad. He wrenched his forepaw from hers and rushed over to put his arms around her head.
> Mayor could see streaks his tears had left in the grime on his face.
"I'm okay. I'm okay. Who's that?"
> He didn't answer, because he was telling something to the newcomer. He gestured and pointed, first at Mayor, then at Rainy Day and finally at Willow. It went on for a long time.
> At last there was silence and it seemed every nomad nearby waited to hear what the new female would say. She tapped her terrifying staff on the ground and said a few words in what Mayor began to think as her 'commanding voice'.
> Willow growled in disgust, threw his piece of rope on the ground and stalked off. Salki seemed pleased with the developments and Mayor was relieved there was to be no more beating. She was still breathing hard and her back was a mass of fire, but now it was over.
> The young nomad tugged at her rope and she walked a step.
> "Mayor? What's happening?" Rainy Day asked.
> Unfortunately she didn't quite know the answer.
"I'm not sure. J-Just- rest. Stay with Gol. I'll- I'll come back when I can."
> The new nomad was walking off with a steady, stately stride and the other nomads made way. She nodded at some of them, but didn't stop to talk. Salki tugged on Mayor's rope to make her walk faster as he followed.
> Her best guess was that the new female was some sort of a leader. Maybe something like their doctor she had met the other day. He had been the only other nomad to carry a staff.
> Maybe Salki knew the leader and had gotten her to intervene on Mayor's behalf. If so, she owed both him and the female a debt of gratitude. Who knew how long Willow would have kept beating her.
> She followed wherever Salki was dragging her. Surely it was better than Willow's pointless punishment. Before they were out of sight she twisted her neck to look back at Rainy Day.
> Good, Gol was with the mare and was petting her once more. They would keep her safe from Willow, Mayor hoped. At least if this new protection extended to her friend as well.
> It wasn't like she could do anything about it, but Willow had gone off with his hunter friends and perhaps he wouldn't be back before Mayor.
> She focused forward again so she wouldn't trip and went back to examining the strange new female.

> ~~~~

> It turned out that Salki and the strange new female lived in a tent. Mayor Mare didn't yet have a good eye for nomad tents, but that one seemed larger and somehow more luxurious than the few she had seen so far.
> She hadn't been inside one yet, so when Salki held the tent flap open for her Mayor didn't quite know what to do.
> The first bit of strangeness was the fact that almost none of the people had set up tents, since their camping ground was so temporary. The second bit of weirdness was the interior itself.
> Mayor immediately scrunched up her muzzle in distaste as the smell hit her. There was the customary hole in the middle of the roof to let out smoke, but despite that there was a stink of sour milk, stale sweat and a scent she had come to associate with burnt meat.
> The source of it was obvious: a fire pit had been hastily dug in the middle and there were chunks of animal flesh sizzling among the embers.
> Salki soon gave up on waiting and simply reached over and tugged Mayor inside by the rope around her neck. She flattened her ears, took a deep breath, and entered the gloomy tent.
> The female sat on a cot opposite the entrance and Salki took another to the side. The rest of the floor was just grass, but Mayor didn't mind that. She took a spot by the fire opposite the female so she could watch her.
> Her first order of business, it seemed, was to take out the feathers in her mane and the bracelets from her forelegs. As she did that, the nomad spoke a few words and Salki answered, but Mayor Mare couldn't understand a single thing. She still listened intently, though.
> This was diplomacy. Her cutie mark was clear on it. Understand or not, she had to pay attention to the female and show her respect. She obviously had some important position in the tribe, especially if the way she had ordered Willow about was any indication.
> Mayor focused her ears on the lady and tried hard to understand.
> The next bit surprised her with how familiar it was: Salki extended a claw toward the mare and pronounced pretty well: "Meyermer."
> It was the closest he had been able to say her full name. He was making an introduction and Mayor immediately bowed her head. She knew from the youth that it was a sign of respect among nomads, just as it was among ponies.
> Then Salki switched his paw to indicate the female and said, while looking at Mayor: "Darga."
> It could not be clearer. Mayor made herself smile as politely as she was able and greeted the nomad:
"Hello, Darga. Thank you for stopping Willow."
> She wanted to say it better and cast an imploring look at Salki.
"Salki? Thank you?" she asked and pointed a hoof at the female.
> He understood and gave her the words she needed: "Bayar-lalaa."
> Just to make it clearer, Mayor Mare shifted herself sideways and patted a hoof on her back, where the welts from Willow's impromptu whip were quite visible on her tan coat.
"Darga, bayar-lalaa."
> The female didn't respond, but Mayor had been watching her face closely and caught a slight widening of eyes at this display of linguistic proficiency. The mare felt proud of herself and settled back down, hopeful that they could establish some kind of rapport.
> Salki spoke once more, but Mayor didn't understand his word: "Eey. Darga eey Salki."
> He pointed between the two, but the gesture with his claws didn't make sense to the mare, so she leaned her head to one side in confusion. The youth thought for a moment, then his face lit up.
> "Gol? Intor?" he said and Mayor glanced around in surprise, wondering if the two had come to fetch her. The tent was still empty and she could hear no one outside the flap. Salki wasn't finished, however. "Intor eey Gol," he pointed out, then did his paw-gesture again between himself and the female: "Darga eey Salki!"
> Mayor considered this and her eyes roamed the tent as she thought what might be a parallel between Intor and her daughter, and Darga and Salki. She glanced at the cot the youth was sitting on, as well as the one under Darga.
> Suddenly it clicked.
"Oooh, she's your *mother*! The same way Intor is Gol's mother! That was a clever way to put it! Um, thanks- bayar-lalaa!"
> Salki smiled at her and jabbered something else, but it was too rapid for Mayor to catch. He was still just as excited to teach her words as before, which was quite alright with Mayor Mare.
> She looked at his mother, who seemed content for now to simply watch the mare and listen to her picking up the language. She hadn't said a single word since she had spoken to Willow.
"Okay, now we got that, let's see if we can turn it around," Mayor murmured to herself."
> Salki stopped talking at her raised hoof.
"So - Darga eey Salki. Okay?"
> By now the young nomad understood some of her words and nodded at her question.
"Salki hmm Darga?"
> Luckily he was quite smart and understood what she was asking. He gave her the word: "Khue. Salki khue Darga."
> It was either the word for 'son', or for child. Mayor had a way to find out which. She prompted:
"Gol khue Intor?"
> At this the nomad burst out laughing and even his mother's lips quirked up in a smile. Salki shook his head and corrected: "Okhin. Gol okhin Intor!"
> Mayor grinned happily to herself and closed her eyes for a moment to commit these new words to memory. They might slip away and she wished she had paper and quills to write her vocabulary down, but in lieu of tools she just had to do the best she could with her brain alone.
> Besides, it wasn't as if there were many other things to focus her mind on. Perhaps for the first time in her life, she could dedicate all her mental effort on this one, single task.
"Okay, we're getting somewhere. Let's see what else we can learn..."
> Mayor looked around the tent for useful objects she could point out and get their names. Once she knew more words it would be easier and easier to learn new ones.
> Suddenly she was not in the least bit tired or sleepy, despite the awful couple of days she had had. Thinking about this new problem, getting excited about the prospect of establishing a proper relationship with these people, made Mayor's heart speed up and drove any remaining fatigue away.
> She shuffled her legs to bring them under her and make herself more comfortable. The female took a stick and prodded at the meat in the fire. It obviously wasn't ready to come out yet, because Darga just turned the pieces over and left them.
> Even a new gust of that awful smell didn't dampen Mayor's spirit. She kept glancing at the bronze bracelets. These people *did* value shiny things, after all. If she could entice Darga, or maybe their medical nomad, whichever of them was the leader, they might take the mares back to the portal and to Equestria.
> Gold and gems were so easy to come by that even the poorest pony could probably buy their freedom.
> Then- perhaps it was too soon to think of that, but Mayor couldn't stop herself from fantasizing, she would get the Princesses, perhaps all of them, to look at that place in the Everfree where the worlds met.
> She was still convinced it had to be closed. Salki was nice, but in general these nomads and their entire world were an awful place for ponies.
> Since her eyes were already on the grotesque lumps, Mayor decided to try for it. She pointed a hoof at the sizzling meat and looked imploringly at Salki. She would ask about something less disgusting next.

> ~~~~

> Salki was leading a rather tired, but pleased with herself Mayor Mare back through the camp. She was looking forward to sleeping off the residual ache in her limbs and to mulling over the new information she had gleaned.
> From what she could understand, it seemed that Salki's mother was some kind of a leader among the nomads. That meant Mayor had already befriended the chief's son, which was good progress.
> She had also added a few more words to her growing vocabulary, which would make dealing with the chief a little bit easier. It should also help her with Intor and Gol, and perhaps even Willow.
> That thought made Mayor wince and she hoped she hadn't abandoned Rainy Day to a beating by the angry hunter. It wasn't as if she had had much choice, but she would still feel guilty about it.
> The youth led her by the rope around her neck, but Mayor made sure to keep plenty of slack in it to show Salki she trusted him. They wound around dying campfires and the occasional tent.
> Despite the chill in the night, Mayor guessed that most of the nomads didn't want the hassle of putting their simple shelters up just to tear them down in the morning. That part told her that they hadn't yet reached whatever destination they were heading for.
> At last Salki stopped and Mayor looked around for the few people she could recognize. She spotted Intor sitting on a bundle of animal skins at one of the fires. Opposite her was another cot with Gol, but there was no sight of a pony and Mayor's stomach clenched up in fear.
> She was about to ask the young nomad about it, but then she spotted a skin-covered mass beside Gol. Mayor walked closer and breathed a sigh of relief when she saw it was Rainy Day.
> The mare was apparently curled up on a cot, but her head was in Gol's lap and the nomad was slowly brushing her claws through Rainy Day's mane as she stared at the fire.
> Both Intor and her daughter looked up at the new arrivals and Salki held out Mayor's leading rope to the older female. He gave Mayor a quick pat on the muzzle, then left back for his mother's tent.
> That left Mayor Mare with her captors, although Willow wasn't present much to her relief. She walked over to Gol and looked down at Rainy Day. Her friend was more than half asleep, but her eyes opened fully when she spotted her.
> "Mayor? You were gone so long!"
> It was a challenge to keep the scorn from her voice when she saw the other mare's position, but Mayor remembered her own excitement while she had been chatting with Salki and his mother.
"I see you made yourself comfortable."
> Rainy Day caught a hint of disgust in her voice and her ears lowered. "You're one to talk. Where have you been?"
"I've been learning their language so I can get them to take us back."
> The other mare closed her eyes as the young nomad idly scratched her muzzle. "Well, it was either this or f-freeze do death. The fever's back."
> Mayor Mare was immediately sorry for her tone and she lowered her head to nuzzle her friend. Why should she begrudge her from taking what little comfort she could after their harrowing ordeal?
"I'm sorry. How are you feeling?"
> Rainy Day shifted her head to glance briefly at Intor. "She gave me some weird plant paste. It smelled like Aloe. I guess I'll see if it works."
> It didn't sound as if it would hurt, so Mayor just shrugged to herself and sat down beside Gol. The night's chill was starting to make itself known on her fur, but the fire kept the edge off it.
"Where's Willow?"
> "He left with some female," Rainy Day said. "I dunno what it was about, but it looked like she and Intor had a row. Actually, all three of them had."
"Maybe he'll stay with his, uh, let's call it special some-nomad," Mayor said in almost a pleading tone.
> She didn't want to see how angry the irritable and unpredictable hunter would be when he saw her. It was true that the tribe's chief had stopped Mayor's beating, but Willow probably couldn't take his revenge against that powerful female, so he would undoubtedly settle for punishing the mare some more.
> In either case, there was little the ponies could do about that, so Mayor settled down in the grass with a sigh.
"We should get some sleep. I don't think they're at their destination yet, wherever that might be."
> Mayor caught Gol's eye and decided to put some of her newfound skill to a test.
"Gol? [Walk, camp, walk?]"
> The young hunter blinked in surprise, but shook her head. "Untakh," she replied simply, but it wasn't a word Mayor knew. The mare considered how to rephrase her question, but she hadn't gotten far enough with Salki yet to be able to ask about the future, so she gave up.
"Okay, [thanks]."
> Perhaps the thanks was inappropriate, but it couldn't hurt to be civil, the mare thought. Gol shrugged a little to herself, then went back to scratching behind Rainy Day's ear.
> The fire's warmth and the stillness around them was starting to take a toll on Mayor. Her head swayed and her eyes wanted to close. She had to fight to keep them open and more than once she found herself nodding.
> There was no reason to fight it and the mare let her head lower down on her forelegs. It would be a hard day of walking when she woke up and she needed as much sleep as she could get.
> She roused briefly when she felt something settle around her, but when she saw it was just Gol covering her with a blanket Mayor smiled and closed her eyes once more.
"[Thanks.]"
> The blanket was an animal skin, but at that point Mayor didn't care anymore. It would keep her warm.

> ~~~~

> Mayor woke up briefly in the night when Willow came back, but the nomad just glanced at her and Rainy Day, then searched Intor's bags for a few animal skins and made himself a cot near the fire. He looked more sleepy than vengeful, but Mayor Mare kept her eye open until the hunter had settled down and drifted off.
> After that she slept without further interruptions until morning, when Gol stood up and brushed against her. Mayor stretched, pleased with how quickly the residual ache was fading from her limbs.
> Thanks to the effort of the past week or so she was becoming stronger than she had ever been in her life, even if it wasn't something she would have chosen to do voluntarily.
> She stood up and looked for Rainy Day. Her friend was awake, but she was still curled up and bundled in animal skins. Mayor walked over to check on her.
> It wasn't good. The pegasus was noticeably shivering and when Mayor pressed her muzzle against her she was burning up.
"This isn't good! Rainy Day?"
> Rainy Day focused briefly on Mayor, but then she returned her gaze to the fire as if wishing it were lit. "S-S-Soo c-cold!"
"Your fever is back. Dung! You need a proper doctor!"
> "There isn't one. I'll- I'll b-be fine."
> Mayor looked around for potential help, but Gol and Intor were discussing something quietly and Willow was still sleeping. She didn't want the hunter's help in any case. There was only one real choice.
> She folded up her own animal skin blanket as best she could and took it to the two females. They fell silent and watched her as Mayor approached.
"[Please, water?]"
> The mother said something and pointed a claw at where some of her bags were stacked on the ground. Gol went there and picked out a water skin. She untied the nozzle and cupped her paw for Mayor to drink, but the mare shook her head.
"[No.] Rainy Day?" she implored and pointed a hoof at her shivering friend.
> Gol understood and went to the poor pegasus. She repeated her trick with her paw, although she had to lay it almost on the ground to make it low enough for Rainy Day to reach with her muzzle.
> Around them the camp was waking up and Mayor Mare could see nomads dismantling their tents. Others were lighting or reviving fires and some were walking off into the plains. They didn't have bags so she guessed they were only going to relieve themselves.
> While Gol was watering her friend, Intor stood up and began gathering the things. She kept glancing at Mayor and Rainy Day, thinking hard about something. When she paused for a moment the mare spoke up:
"Intor?"
> Once she had her attention she pointed a hoof at Rainy Day, then patted her own back as best she could reach.
"I'll carry her. Like the other day. Please?"
> She repeated her gesture a few more times, but couldn't tell whether the nomad understood or not. Her expression was neutral and difficult to read. She kept looking at Mayor for a bit longer, then she bent down and patted Willow on his cheek to wake him up.
> They exchanged a few words, then the hunter stumbled off for the nearby low bushes.
> Gol was apparently done with her mare patient and lifted what was left of the water skin to her own lips. Soon it was empty.
> Mayor wondered what she and Intor would drink, but Gol just went to pick up a few other empty water bags and headed off. She was probably going to fetch more water.
> Intor was saying something and when Mayor Mare looked up the old nomad was staring right at her and pointing at her retreating daughter. She made shooing motions with her other hand.
"You want me to follow her? Uh, what was it... [Mayor Mare Gol Water?"
> The nomad nodded to that: "Za! Za! Yavak!"
> She would get some water and she'd be able to relieve herself, so Mayor didn't argue and hurried after the younger female. She caught up pretty soon and fell in step beside her. Gol looked at her curiously, but didn't speak, nor did she pick up Mayor's rope and it simply dragged behind them.
> It wasn't particularly far and the two soon came to a babbling stream. Mayor looked up and down the direction of the water, but she couldn't see where it was coming from, nor where it was going.
> The water looked clean and some of the other nomads were already gathered around it to drink and, in rare cases, wash.
> The first order of business was to slake her thirst, so Mayor dunked her muzzle into the freezing cold water and filled her belly as best she could. It took the edge off her hunger, but it was a stopgap measure at best. Hopefully she and Rainy Day would have some time to graze before their walk started. Surely Intor and Gol and Willow would have some breakfast?
> After that she just waited while the young nomad dipped the skins into the stream one by one until they were full. Mayor saw they had a larger opening on the opposite side from the nozzle. Once they were filled, Gol dutifully tied them back up and stacked them on a pile.
> The rope she had used to tie their necks was longer and would allow Gol to hang the bags from her shoulders and arms. That would make it easier for her to carry that many. Mayor got an idea when she saw that and walked over to the pile of filled water skins.
> If she tied two of them together and made the rope very short, she could hang them across her back so they remained in balance. They weren't overly heavy and that way Gol wouldn't have to carry all of them.
> The young nomad exclaimed when she saw Mayor Mare fiddling with the bags, but when she saw the ones on her back she fell silent and simply stared in wonder.
> "[Thank you.]"
> She had understood that! Mayor smiled happily to herself. Her vocabulary was limited and her grammar was nonexistent, but she understood some things.
"[You're welcome.]"
> In the end Mayor Mare carried all the filled water skins and Gol simply walked beside her, lightly gripping her leading rope in her forepaw. Other than that simple pleasantry Mayor couldn't yet say anything more substantial, so they simply went in silence.
> They soon came back to Intor's fireplace, where the older female had packed their belongings into bags. She had even collected Rainy Day's blankets and the mare was standing on shaky legs with her head lowered.
"You okay?"
> "I'll- I'll m-manage."
"No you won't. Come on, get on my back. Maybe they'll understand I need to carry you today."
> Mayor had slipped most of the water skins to the ground near where Intor was preparing their pile, but she kept a couple. They weren't overly heavy and she could at least carry the water for herself and her friend, if she couldn't haul other things.
> She was feeling charitable now that the nomads had started actually talking to her, rather than just beating her like a beast of burden. Well, Intor and Gol had, Willow was still bad in that regard.
> Their best hope was to attach themselves to the older female for whatever protection that afforded them while Mayor learned enough of the language to convince the Chief to take them back.
> When Rainy Day didn't move fast enough Mayor went to her friend and crouched a little.
"Come, get on!"
> The pegasus opened her mouth to argue, but shut it when she couldn't come up with anything convincing. She managed to lift one foreleg over Mayor, but then had to stop for breath.
> Their fur, where it was pressed together, felt decidedly warm to Mayor and she began to worry. The fever was worse than ever.
"You need to eat."
> "I'm not hungry."
"Try anyway."
> Rainy Day was silent for a bit, then she said: "I n-need, um... I need to go."
"Me too. I'll carry you and we'll eat as much as we can."
> The only problem was explaining it to their nomad owners. Mayor cleared her throat and sought for words.
"Gol? Intor? [Go food water come.]" she tried.
> At their blank looks, she bent down and nibbled on a grass stalk, then pointed a hoof away from the camp.
"[Food. Go. Food. Come.]"
> Intor was the first to understand and she spoke rapidly to Gol. The younger nomad picked up Mayor's leading rope again and began to guide them out of the camp. Of course they weren't trusted to do it alone, but this suited Mayor just fine.
> "You- you're getting g-good with th-the language," Rainy Day commented.
"I don't have a choice. It's the only chance we got."
> She saw that the young nomad was taking them to a patch of thicker grass and Mayor's mouth began to water. She still needed to find a way to supplement their diet, but one problem at a time.
> First she needed to nurse her friend past her fever and her broken wing. Maybe Salki would understand and help her find something else to eat.
> Hopefully he would walk with them, or take her to his mother's tent once more to teach more of his language.
"Eat as much as you can," she told Rainy Day, "even if you're not hungry. We're gonna need it."
> She felt the other mare nod and crouched to let her slip off. Rainy Day was quite wobbly on her legs, but she locked her knees in place and lowered her head to pick at the coarse steppe grass.
> After seeing Rainy Day eat, Mayor bent down as well. A few moments later she heard the splashing of liquid and quickly guessed what it was.
> Weird how quickly shame was going away when it came down to survival. Mayor flattened her ears to shut the sound out, then lifted her own tail. Might as well get it over with.

> ~~~~

> Though the journey was not exactly pleasant, it was still better than Mayor Mare had feared. She was recovering well and after the first few minutes her muscle ache had gone away. Rainy Day wasn't too heavy to carry, so the day ended up being a pleasant stroll rather than the forced march she had been anticipating.
> Most importantly, Willow was nowhere to be seen, which had caused Intor to grumble and complain while she loaded up Gol and Salki with their belongings. At least Mayor assumed that was what the female had been muttering about. She hadn't recognized any of the words.
> The long snake of nomads wound through the flat and featureless terrain and more than once Mayor wondered what could be so important to drive these people on such a journey. As far as the eye could see there was nothing but grass with an occasional bush or spindly tree. Behind them she could just barely see the hills where they had come from.
> She kept looking back often and those slight, blurry bumps on the distant horizon felt like her only connection back to Equestria. The portal was somewhere in those hills, her home and her friends and everything she had ever known.
> Mayor Mare felt that if she lost sight of that place, that when the hills vanished from her sight, her link to home would be severed and she would truly be lost. Her heart yearned above all to head back there, but even if she could have escaped again, she didn't dare.
> Not after the last time.
> All the mare could do was look into the distance, strain her eyes against the blur, and promise herself, silently, that she would somehow return.
> Another day, perhaps, she estimated, and the horizon behind them would be just as flat as in front. She had to fight back tears at the thought.
> Were her friends looking for her? Was there a search?
> Even if they guessed she had been taken into Everfree there was very little chance anypony would find the passage into this strange world. Even if they did, there would be no way to find her in all this vast, empty landscape.
> Perhaps her friends had already given up? Would the citizens of Ponyville soon chose a new mayor? She couldn't blame them and the town needed leadership, but the knowledge still stung.
> Being taken away by the nomads felt almost like death, except it was slower.
> Mayor shook her head to try and dislodge those thoughts and forced herself to listen to Salki. He had really begun teaching her the language and he pointed out everything around them and named it.
> She repeated the words after him, but without a way to write them down Mayor was certain she was forgetting most of them. That was okay if a few important ones stuck. Luckily Salki didn't mind repeating himself when she asked.
> Mayor lifted her head and brushed her muzzle against Rainy Day's ear. The mare had been silent most of the day and Mayor hoped she was sleeping. She felt very warm and after her asking him several, times Salki had understood and gotten her one of the animal skins to cover the pegasus up.
> That made Mayor too hot and sweat tickled down her legs, but she didn't care about the discomfort. Rainy Day couldn't die! Not on her watch!
> The wing looked like it was starting to heal, or at least that's what Mayor had guessed from Intor's expression when the lady had examined her friend. If she could push past the fever she would be- Mayor caught her thought and corrected it: she would live.
> She had been about to say Rainy Day would be fine, but of course that was a lie. Neither of them would be fine and the pegasus least of all. She would likely never fly again, even if they got back to Equestria.
> Outward Mayor feigned hope, said that the new medicinal magic could do remarkable things these days, but a wing which had been broken, set improperly, and infected this badly, didn't bode well.
> That knowledge, of the other mare losing such an important part of herself, piled on top of everything else...
> Mayor paused for a moment and lifted her foreleg so she could wipe away the tears with her fetlock. Salki noticed and stopped talking for which she was grateful. Sometimes it almost felt as if he understood that they didn't belong in his world.
> Gol also glanced back, but Mayor resumed walking and the young nomad filly didn't give her a second glance. She was apparently deep in discussion with her mother. Was 'filly' the right word there? Gol wasn't a pony.
> They had barely taken a few steps when Mayor's stomach growled quite loudly. She had been determined to ignore her hunger, but her body disagreed.
> The efforts of the past few days, of the past week, were taking their toll. Already the gnawing hunger was an almost physical pain deep in her belly. She was losing weight and grass wasn't cutting it.
> She would have to do something about it. There was no time to cry. There were problems to be solved.
"Salki?"
> The youth gave her an inquiring look.
"[Food, eat.]"
> She would have to guide him to the right question because she didn't know enough words yet to ask it directly.
> The nomad cocked his head to one side, then said: "Meyermer, [eat grass]." He said some other things, but Mayor didn't understand those words.
"[What?]"
> He thought for a moment and then tried something simpler: "[Stop. Sleep. Eat grass.]"
> She understood. He was telling her they would stop soon and then she could feed.
"[No eat grass. Eat. No grass.]"
> He seemed confused and bent down to tear off a few blades of the coarse steppe foliage. "[Pony eat grass.]"
> Mayor nodded with patience she didn't really feel, but had no choice. She couldn't alienate perhaps the closest thing she had to a friend in this place.
"[Yes, pony eat grass. Mayor Mare, Rainy Day no eat grass.]"
> He looked down at the bit of green in his paw and then back at the mare. He was thinking hard, trying to work out what she wanted to say and Mayor searched her memory for anything that might help. She didn't know enough words! Enough concepts. Nouns were easy, but how do you learn a word like 'other'?
> Perhaps if she brought up some examples?
"[Salki eat no grass?]"
> He chuckled at the notion, but nodded. "[Yes, Salki eat meat. Pony no eat meat.]"
> It was a step in the right direction and Mayor picked her words carefully.
"[Good. Salki eat meat. Salki eat no grass. Salki eat water. Salki eat...?]"
> She raised the inflection on that last to leave it as an open question. He was thinking hard and Mayor dared to hope.
> Eventually, hesitating, Salki said a new word.
"[What?]"
> The youth was at a loss. He tried explaining it in other terms and waved his forelegs expansively, but Mayor could get nothing useful out of his performance.
"[Sorry,]" she said and shook her head.
> In the end, Salki growled in frustration and gave up. He told her: "[Night. Rest. Meyermer see night.]"
> He would show her when they stopped. Apparently it wasn't something he could demonstrate or find while they were moving.
> Mayor decided she would be hopeful. She had been asking him about food and he said something new, something she hadn't seen among the nomads so far. Maybe it would be something she and Rainy Day could eat.
> Their only other option would be to try and digest meat.
> It was horrific, monstrous to even consider, but it might be their only way. It would probably play Tartarus on their insides, but perhaps they could get some salt and some minerals from it, especially the dry stuff she had seen nomads eat.
> Some pegasi liked an occasional fish, after all. Maybe it could also work for an earth pony.
> Even if that did work, they'd still have to stuff themselves silly with grass to get enough energy, and Mayor hoped they would be able to do that once the nomads stopped and camped again.
> Whatever it took to survive, she promised herself. Even if she had to eat meat out of sheer desperation.
> Maybe in spring and summer there would be berries or some primitive, uncultivated types of vegetables. Maybe if she taught the nomads how to grow food they'd be grateful?
> She sighed and continued plodding along. The sun was well on its way down so she thought they would be stopping soon.
> "Huh? Where are we?" Rainy Day suddenly asked from Mayor Mare's back.
"Not much further. How are you feeling?"
> The other mare groaned. "Like manure, but I'll live. Everything hurts, but I think my fever is better. Do you think I could get some water?"
> At least that much Mayor knew how to ask.
"[Salki? Rainy Day water please?]"
> He smiled at them and came closer. She was carrying their own water, but she needed his clever forepaws to manipulate the bag and trickle some of the precious liquid into their muzzles.
> They stood still during this procedure and Gol quickly felt the rope go taut. She also stopped and then crouched down to rest. Intor said something, but the young female told her to go on and they would catch up.
"[Mayor Mare, water, please.]" she asked for herself as well.
> If there was any left. Perhaps the next day Mayor should see if Intor and Gol would let her have three or four water skins.

> ~~~~

> Once again Salki had led Mayor to the tent with his mother. Perhaps it was a status symbol or something to set it up each time, the mare thought. She hadn't complained, however, not when the pleasant warmth from the fire inside drove away the chill which was already settling in.
> The evening had started like the previous one, but Mayor remembered her question and the young nomad's promise. Before he could begin teaching her new words she placed a hoof on his knee and reminded him:
"[Salki. Food, not grass, not meat?]"
> He brightened up and jabbered something Mayor couldn't quite catch. Luckily he wasn't expecting a reply, because the youth went over to the corner of the tent and began to rummage in the bags there.
> After a while he asked his mother something and she murmured back a reply, though her eyes never left Mayor. That seemed to help and Salki came back with a couple of objects in his forepaws.
> He held them out to the mare and she gasped in delight.
"Yes! That's exactly what I needed! [Thank you!]" she trilled.
> Immediately she pointed a hoof at one of them.
"That's a yam! What did you call it?"
> He gave her the word. Mayor couldn't remember if it was the same one from earlier, but she closed her eyes and repeated it to herself several times to make sure she wouldn't forget.
"[Mayor Mare, Rainy Day eat yam. Thank you!]"
> Instead of replying, Salki pushed that paw forward and bumped the vegetable to her nose. She blinked in surprise.
"Oh, you mean now? Um, sure."
> She knew that some types of yam could be eaten raw, so Mayor took the tuber in her mouth and bit down. It wasn't bitter so it was probably safe, if her half-remembered filly scouts days were to be believed. Salki was left with about half of it.
> As the mare crunched she looked at the other thing Salki held. It was another type of roots, but this one Mayor didn't recognize. She pointed a hoof and swallowed her current mouthful.
"[Salki?]"
> Again it was a new word and Mayor did her best to remember it, even though she wasn't quite as excited about this one. The nomads had *yams*, which meant she and Rainy could fill out their diet and maybe not die of malnourishment. If this other thing was also edible by ponies that would be even better.
> She didn't know what kind of a plant it was and even if nomads could eat it, that wasn't a guarantee that ponies could as well. They were different enough when it came to diet. Meat and grass were just two examples where they were incompatible.
> Since there was no easy way of identifying what those roots were, Mayor decided to simply call them 'roots' until she knew better. She had the nomad word for it, but she still wanted an Equestrian one, even if it was just a stopgap.
"[Salki eat roots?]"
> The young nomad nodded and demonstrated by biting off a bit of the vegetable, then he held it out to her again.
> It had a sharp, vaguely familiar scent now that it was freshly broken. She thought it might be okay, so she carefully nibbled on the offered morsel.
> The root tasted good and Mayor relaxed. It was probably fine, but she limited herself to that small bite only. If she didn't feel ill in the next few hours she would consider both these new foodstuffs good.
> Now if only she could ask Salki where the nomads found those. They both looked wild, which made sense since the people didn't seem inclined to farm.
> She tried to gather up the words which would explain what she wanted.
"Hmm. Salki? [Mayor Mare, help, go, yam.]" she told him and pointed at the vegetable. "[Help yam] okay?"
> Maybe he understood, or maybe he didn't, but Mayor had no way of telling. She didn't catch any of his reply and sighed internally. There was still much for her to learn before she could effectively communicate.
> If Salki didn't understand that she wanted to help the people gather these vegetables, she would try to tell him again the next day.
> For the moment she had more words to learn which, incidentally, would help her in that task.
> Her mind was already working furiously. It was time to work on some basic questions. Maybe if she obviously hid an item, then pretended to look for it while asking Salki about it he would give her the word for 'where'. That would be a useful start and could lead them to 'who'.
> It was worth a shot!

> ~~~~

> By the time Mayor Mare returned to Intor's campfire the family was already asleep. The fire had nearly burned down and only a few small flames lit the scene.
> Intor had a cot of her own and Willow was lying a short distance away, as if he wasn't particularly happy to be a part of that group.
> She didn't see Rainy Day at first, but the bundle on Gol's cot was too large to be just the filly herself. Perhaps her friend was still huddling with Gol for warmth.
> Maybe he was at about the age when nomad children left their parents and moved in with their mates? That female she had seen with him sometimes could certainly be his special somepony.
> Mayor wondered if nomads married.
> More importantly, would Willow claim her and Rainy Day as his ponies when he left? They probably didn't have much choice, but Mayor would much prefer to stay with Intor and Gol. The females seemed reasonable and she felt a lot safer with them.
> She would have to make herself useful to Intor and maybe the old female would overrule whatever Willow might want to do.
> Another problem for another day, Mayor thought sadly. There were already too many problems, so one more hardly made a difference. She looked for a place to sleep, but there didn't seem to be any extra blankets set out for her.
> There was nothing for it. She would have to wake up either Intor or Gol and ask about it. Of the two, she preferred to bother the younger nomad, so Mayor walked over and stopped to stare at the sight.
> Gol was sleeping on her side, but there was a large bulge under the skin blankets in front of her. That was Rainy Day, who had her muzzle pressed against the nomad filly's barrel.
> One of Gol's forelegs was wrapped around the mare, Mayor could just see it under the blanket in the dying firelight.
> The scene was almost cute. Mayor had to remind herself that these people had foalnapped them and dragged them to this world. They wanted them to work, like slaves. Like those vacant-eyed donkeys. They probably wouldn't have hesitated to slaughter and eat the mares, if their fancy took them that way.
> Maybe not now when Mayor was proving to them that she could speak, but only a few days ago she wouldn't have thought it past even Intor to simply slit Rainy Day's throat for being too much trouble with her broken wing.
> The nomads were their captors.
> Still, Gol was young. She hadn't hurt the two mares. For that matter, neither had Intor, not really.
> Yes, she expected them to work, but Mayor had seen first-hoof that life in this world was tough and brutal. She and Rainy Day would never make it on their own. The nomads only survived because they had become as hard as the land around them.
> So far Willow had been the worst of them. Maybe she should give the others the benefit of the doubt?
> Mayor closed her eyes and let out her breath. She let her ears fold down as she deliberately followed the thought. Gol cuddling with Rainy Day for warmth was cute.
> She could be angry with Willow for taking them, for beating her. She could resent the people in general for enslaving them. All of that could be true and Gol could still be cute, wrapped up in those skins with Rainy Day.
> More importantly, the mare had to keep warm to recover from her fever, so that was another reason for Mayor Mare to accept it. Although it being cute was a pretty solid reason in itself.
> It was almost a shame to disturb them, but she nudged the nomad with a hoof.
"Gol? Gol."
> The female opened her eyes and stared at Mayor in a mix of surprise and curiosity.
"[Skin, please?]"
> She understood and sat up. The sudden loss of warmth made Rainy Day whine, but she didn't wake up. A hoof reached out, seeking for the nomad, but Gol slipped away and stretched. She said something to Mayor in a whisper and went over to where Intor was sleeping.
> A quick search left Gol empty-pawed and she turned back to Mayor. Once again her words were unknown to the mare, but the nomad pointed her claw to her brother. That, combined with the slightly annoyed look in her face was plain enough.
> Willow had taken the last of their skins. Mayor sighed in disappointment and sat down near the fire. Perhaps she could fall asleep while there was still some heat coming from the embers.
> It seemed as if Gol had a different idea. She went back to her own cot and slid between the animal skins, but then she spoke again. "[Come.]" There were more words, but that was the one Mayor recognized. She looked at the nomad in surprise.
> "[Here ... come ... lay down.]"
> She was *asking her to join*?!
> The movement and talking had woken Rainy Day up and she groaned softly. Her hoof came up to try and pull the skins back down, to recapture some of the warmth, but Gol was holding them up in invitation.
> Could she?
> Wasn't Mayor still angry with these people for keeping them against their will? For working them and starving them and beating them?
> Would seeking some comfort betray all that? Would they see it as forgiveness, or worse, acceptance?
> Mayor Mare was too tired to deal with such philosophical questions. She knew the night would be very cold and she would spend it shivering and miserable, huddled as near the fire as she could without singeing her fur.
> She needed the rest. She wanted the warmth.
> Rainy Day *had* looked pretty snug.
> Mayor heaved a sigh and tried not to hate herself as she stood up and walked closer.
> Gol was smiling at her and patted the cot where she wanted the mare. Apparently she was to cuddle mostly with Rainy Day.
> Mayor seized on that little fact. She would be sharing a skin blanket and warmth with her friend. The fact that the nomad filly would be next to her was just coincidental.
> Maybe she could square it away with herself like that.
> "Get in already, it's c-cold!" the other mare whined.
> She didn't respond. There was no need. Mayor slid under the skins and the lingering warmth immediately seeped into her chill fur. She barely held back a sigh of comfort. At the very least she would not give Gol the satisfaction!
> It was important to her for some reason.
> As soon as Mayor was lying on her side, the nomad lowered the animal skin over them and pressed against her back. They were both cold from the night air, but they quickly warmed up.
> A few moments later, Gol snaked a foreleg around the mare. Mayor didn't fight it. It was a hard thing to admit to herself, but Gol's claws twirling into the fur on her belly did feel nice.
"Good night, Rainy Day."
> The response was heavily slurred, but still recognizable: "'night, Mayor."
> Gol probably guessed what they were saying because she added her own, in the nomad language.
> Mayor Mare closed her eyes and let the combined warmth and comfort lull her to sleep.

> ~~~~

> The day had gone pretty much like the others, with the important difference that Rainy Day was able to walk which allowed Intor to load Mayor Mare up with her little family's belongings.
> She was still concerned about her pegasus friend, but it looked like she was getting better. The fever was still there, but perhaps it didn't burn as hotly, and although she stumbled and dragged her hooves, Rainy Day had been determined to walk on her own.
> Mayor had asked why, especially since the nomads were willing to let her carry her injured friend, but hadn't gotten an answer. Rainy Day had just stared at her for a few moments, then looked away.
> It could be that she was starting to realize that no help was coming and they had to think of their future. The ponies had to be useful to the people, or they might yet end up on the menu.
> That one seemed less and less likely, especially as Mayor picked up more of their language, but she only had to look at how the nomads lived to fear them. At their water skins, the fur blankets, their animal hide clothes and the bones they used to prop up their tents. They had no compunctions about killing and using other creatures.
> The lesson was driven home as they arrived at their destination late that afternoon. They caught up with the group of nomads who had been driving their donkey herd. The animals had to be dragged along to move and Mayor saw one of the younger nomads whacking the beasts with a thin stick.
> She wondered if Intor would do the same to them, if they refused to work. For the past hour or so Rainy Day had been lagging behind and her head was hanging low, so Mayor felt double the relief when she saw their new camping spot.
> Most nomads were putting up tents and the ground was pounded by many feet into mud. Old fire pits dotted the surface and there was a general air of joy in the camp. They had arrived.
> This was the place they had sought, Mayor deduced. Salki did not come for her that evening, she assumed because his mother needed his help. On the other hoof, Willow stayed with Intor and Gol and helped them put up their own tent.
> Gol dug little pits in the hard, packed ground, and her brother drove the bones into them in a rough circle. When he was done, he tied the tops together and Intor began plastering the construction with skins.
> One of those had been the large blanket Gol had been using on their travels. The thing was actually made of several hides, stitched together with crude thread. In a way, Mayor thought to herself, she had slept under Intor's tent the previous day. She wondered if the nomads would let her and Rainy Day stay inside through the cold night.
> Perhaps she could convince them to at least take the ill mare. It would undoubtedly speed her recovery.
> Since Salki hadn't come to fetch her away, Mayor spent the evening helping as much as she was able. One of the bone struts of the tent hadn't been driven quite deep enough and had sagged. That caused Intor to yell at her son, who just began shouting back.
> They probably wouldn't have come to blows, but Mayor made a decision and slipped into the tent during their argument. She swallowed a lump as she looked at the smooth, yellow bone, then gritted her teeth and grabbed it with both hooves.
> It was smooth and cold and dry, perhaps like polished wood, although knowing that it was bone made all the difference and Mayor felt thoroughly disgusted. She still gripped it firmly and leaned her whole weight on it.
> The bone sank a little deeper into the ground. It felt more stable and Mayor was only too glad to let go of the macabre thing. The next bit was easier and she firmly stomped down the ground around the thing to pack it together.
> She held her breath and touched the strut once more, to make sure it was no longer wobbly. It stood solid and the mare nodded to herself in satisfaction.
> When she turned to leave, she saw Willow in the entrance. He was looking at her, but she couldn't guess whether he was pleased that she had done his task, or annoyed that she interfered.
"[You're welcome.]"
> He blinked in surprise and she simply slipped past him out of the tent. Now that she was talking, at least a little, the hunter didn't quite know what to do with her, so he simply let his mother control both mares.
> That suited Mayor just fine. She didn't mind doing work in exchange for the nomads' protection and their food. That was one way she could think about it so she didn't have to use 'slave' even to herself.
> In front of the tent Intor already had a fire going in the pit and Gol was poking at Rainy Day's tied-up wing. The mare winced every now and then, but it didn't look like she was in significant pain.
> It would take a long time to heal and it might never do so completely, but the injury no longer seemed life-threatening. Even the infection was apparently on the decline.
> The sun was very nearly down, so Mayor went to Intor and waved to get her attention.
"[Please, food, water?]"
> The female studied them for a moment, then said something to her daughter. Mayor thought she recognized the words for 'go' and 'pony'.
> Her theory was soon confirmed when the younger nomad gathered their leading ropes and began to guide them through the nomad camp.
> They wove around fires and past groups of people. Here and there young children stared at them with wide, fearful eyes. Older nomads sometimes watched with curiosity too, but by then the mares were well-known and most of the people paid them little mind.
> Mayor heard some braying and yells off to one side and she saw that Gol was leading them past where the donkeys were tied up. Despite her best effort, a tiny, smug smile came to her lips.
> Already the two Equestrians were considered more than those dumb beasts. True, Gol still held their ropes, but she knew they could talk. For that matter, she had even let them sleep in her own bed the previous night to keep them warm.
> Mayor still didn't know quite how she felt about that, but not being miserable and shivering the whole night came a long way to quelling her embarrassment.
> They were almost out of the nomad camp when she became aware of some commotion behind them. She looked back to see what it was and then her steps faltered.
> A group of nomads were dragging one of the beasts from the group and a few others were using their whips to drive the rest of the herd back. The donkey they were pulling aside was braying loudly, mostly because they were hauling it by its ears and tail.
"What the- [Gol! Gol!]"
> The young female looked back. Since Mayor didn't know the correct words, she just pointed a hoof at the activity and gave her a pleading look.
> She didn't understand the answer, but Gol came back and put her paw on Mayor's head. Rainy Day was standing a short distance away and staring at the commotion, and her ears quickly folded down.
> "Mayor, what's happening?"
"I don't know. I- I-"
> She didn't get further because she saw one of the nomads near the donkey grab his stone knife. All she saw saw was a dark bit of obsidian gripped in the nomad's claw, but Mayor had no doubt it was a knife.
"S-Shit... let's go!"
> The situation was one of her worst fears, being played out right before their eyes. Mayor looked away, but Rainy Day was transfixed and stared at the scene.
"No! Don't look! Let's go! [Gol!]" she whined.
> The nomad didn't seem particularly perturbed, but she grew alarmed when she looked at Mayor Mare. She jabbered a question at her, but the mare couldn't think straight enough to even try and understand it.
> She did the best she could and transposed herself in Rainy Day's line of sight. It was just in time, too.
> She heard the awful, wet, sliding sound, the loud bray which turned into gurgling. She heard the shouts of the nomads, thrilled and joyous at their gruesome work. Perhaps the worst part was the sound of liquid splashing on the ground.
> The wet, choking remnant of the bray sounded out in the air which was suddenly too quiet and too still.
> Mayor held her breath and waited for the panic from the other donkeys when they smelled blood.
> It didn't come.
> She dared a glance, but the herd was already grazing, not much interested in what was happening mere yards away. A few of the younger ones were staring in alarm, but perhaps they didn't understand what was happening.
> Maybe they saw this kind of thing often enough to have gotten used to it.
> That was a scary thought.
> "M-M-Mayor?" Rainy Day asked in a breathless whisper. Her eyes were wide and frightened, but at least she kept her gaze locked with Mayor's. "What- did they- oh, Celestia!"
> The mare was trembling through her entire body and it looked like she was about to bolt. She would easily tear the rope from Gol's paw and she could probably outrun the young female.
> She wouldn't outrun Willow and the other hunters. She wouldn't outrun the wolves. One or the other would find her and this time, Mayor knew, her fate would be the same. The nomads wouldn't suffer them escaping again. Perhaps they would kill Mayor too, just to be rid of the trouble.
"Rainy Day! Focus on me! It's fine! It's fine! It was a donkey. We knew they use meat. They won't do it to us, okay? We're safe!"
> The pegasus began to shake her head, but Mayor gripped her muzzle with both hooves.
"We're fine! Just ignore it. It's not going to happen to us, understand? We're different!"
> It got through and Rainy Day closed her eyes. She shuddered and tears began to leak past her eyelids. Mayor Mare used the opportunity to nudge the mare and turn her away from the grisly spectacle.
"Come on. We'll get some food and water, and then we'll go to sleep. It'll be better in the morning. Just forget it. Ignore it."
> She had managed to keep her voice under control and her steady tone and quiet, solid authority was working. Rainy Day was calming down and she lifted a shaky hoof.
> Gol also understood what Mayor was doing and began to murmur her own encouragement to the distressed mare. They couldn't understand it, but her words were soft and sounded soothing.
> Together they coaxed the pegasus into walking.
> Mayor glanced back. Her vision was blurry, but she saw how red the ground was. Red stains on the nomads' legs, on their claws. There was a gray mass in the middle, but they were already peeling away the skin.
> She turned resolutely back. The donkeys were beasts, she told herself. They were mindless, they couldn't understand death. After all, the herd was already settling down a short distance away from the butchery.
> They didn't think, or feel, like Equestrians. They were mindless.
> Mayor had to keep telling herself that. She had to make herself believe it.
> Her own sanity was hanging by a thread, but she had to keep it at all costs. They *would not* die in this bucked-up world. Not to the fearsome beasts, nor to the nomads' cruel, stone knives. They would make it back.
> It all depended on her.
> They couldn't outrun the nomads and they would never be able to fight them off. Even if they did, the two mares would never survive the trip back. They would get hopelessly lost and mauled by some primal monstrosity.
> The only thing they could do was out-think their captors. Their minds were their best chance of getting out alive. They had Equestria inside them and that proud nation had never faltered. As long as they remembered their heritage they would also win.
> Donkeys were just stupid beasts of this land. They were animals, perhaps even less than that by Equestrian standards.
> The nomads did what they had to do to survive and so would the mares.
"We have to eat."
> "I'm not hungry."
"We have to. Rainy Day, we're wasting away. These people have vegetables, at least some kinds. I'll try and get us some, but we still have to eat as much grass as we can."
> Rainy Day rounded on Mayor. "How can you say that?! How can you be like that?! They just *murdered* somepony!"
"No. Not somepony. They slaughtered a beast. These- these animals are not ponies. They don't have minds."
> For a short while Rainy Day wasn't able to articulate any words. Her muzzle opened and closed in shock, but then she snapped it shut and turned away. "We should have done something!"
"We have to think of ourselves," Mayor countered. "You saw what these people are like. We can't do anything. We have to out-think them."
> There was no reply.
"Rainy Day, we have to survive. If not for us, then for everypony else."
> That got a reaction and the mare looked back. "What?! Why?"
"We have to warn Celestia and Luna about this place. They have to shut the portal. We can't risk these people getting into Equestria!"
> She was right and she saw it in Rainy Day's eyes. Her ears sagged and she let out a breath she was holding. "Fine."
"So you'll eat?"
> "Yes." The reply was listless, without warmth or emotion, but it sounded truthful.
> The pegasus resented her cold, heartless logic, she knew, but Mayor couldn't worry about that. If- *When* they came home they could spend as much time as they needed in therapy to get over it. She could break down and cry then.
> First, they had to get home. At whatever cost.

> ~~~~

> It turned out Intor didn't want ponies in the tent, but at least she had let them have a couple of animal skin blankets. If they cuddled together, Mayor and Rainy Day were relatively comfortable outside.
> Willow had still tied their ropes to one of the support struts at the entrance, so if they tried to leave they would disturb the tent and wake the residents.
> He knew, Mayor thought, that the mares were clever enough to bite through their ropes, but he also knew they wouldn't try running away again, not after their experience with the wolves.
> Intor probably agreed, especially after her little speech. It had been hard to follow, but she had understood 'sleep' and 'stay', and dutifully repeated those words back to the female.
> After that the two ponies snuggled under the warm blanket and Mayor mused quietly to herself how well they had gotten used to what would have been macabre only two weeks ago.
> They slept undisturbed and Mayor woke up when the air around them was gray with pre-dawn light. The nomad camp around them was quiet, but she saw an occasional biped wandering around on their business.
> She watched them go about their morning routines as she waited for something to happen. The nomads had arrived at their destination, for whatever purpose, so they didn't need the ponies to carry their burdens anymore.
> Mayor wondered what they would do with them now. She also worried a little about Salki, who hadn't come for her the previous evening.
> He was probably busy helping his mother with whatever she had to do as the leader of the group, which meant he might be able to visit that morning. She kept looking around, hoping to see that strange, flat nomad muzzle and his twinkling eyes and warm smile.
> She needed him to translate for her. The fact that the people had at least *some* vegetables was promising, but she had to find out where to get them. It was highly unlikely Intor would feed her tiny supply to the mares, even if the nomads subsisted mostly on meat.
> Rainy Day stirred in her hooves and Mayor cocked an ear, but the other mare just shifted a little and went still again. She had felt decidedly warm, but with how chilly the nights were getting that wasn't necessarily a bad thing, Mayor thought.
> The fever wasn't as high as before, at least, which was a good sign. They still had to be extremely careful with her wing, because every slight bump caused the poor pegasus to whimper or cry out, but at least now it seemed as if she would make it through her ordeal alive.
> With luck the nomads would stay at that camping site for a few weeks at least, so Rainy Day had time to heal before they expected her to haul their stuff again.
> Her fervent wishes were interrupted when Mayor caught sight of a familiar figure making its way toward them.
"Salki!" she called out, but kept her voice low so as not to wake Rainy Day.
> He didn't hear, but he was coming to them anyway, so she just waited. Soon he spotted them and waved his forepaw in greeting. He said some words, but Mayor didn't understand them so she just gave him a slightly puzzled smile.
> The young nomad held up one of his claws in a gesture she had learned meant he wanted her to watch him closely. Then he lay down on the edge of her animal skin and pretended to sleep.
> His jostling woke up Rainy Day, who stretched out her hooves and yawned, but Salki sat up at the same time, smiled at the pegasus and repeated his few words.
> Then he looked at Mayor and said them again.
> She repeated as best she could, trying hard to mimic the pronunciation. Salki nodded happily and lay down again. He feigned sleeping and went as far as to give a small little snore, then sat up again and said the think.
"Oh, so it's like good morning!"
> She did the same and laid her head down on her hooves for a moment, then popped up and said:
"[Good morning!]"
> Salki nodded enthusiastically and patted her on her withers.
"[Thank you.]"
> Then he stood up and beckoned for her to follow. Mayor wanted to go, but she looked at Rainy Day first.
"I'll- um, I think he wants to show me something. Will you be okay?"
> The other mare blinked a few times and her ears twitched from upright to flattened and back. "I guess. Um, is there any water?"
> Mayor looked around, but couldn't spot any of the water skins from the previous evening. She rose to her hooves and let the blanket slide off her. She walked over to the tent, nuzzled the cloth aside, and poked her head in.
> It was dark, but after a moment she saw the shapes of the three inhabitants. Intor was bending over the fire and blowing gently on an ember and Gol was still wrapped in her sleeping bag, but watching her mother.
> Willow was still asleep, at least judging by his even breathing and his closed eyes.
"[Gol? Rainy Day, water, food, please?]"
> At the sound of her voice Intor looked up and asked: "[You ... Rainy Day ...]"
> Her best guess was that the older female wanted to know why Mayor had only mentioned one mare, so she shook her head and tried to explain:
"[Me go Salki. Rainy Day Gol go water?]"
> The young nomad looked at her mother, who gave a single nod, but followed it up with some instructions. Then Intor gave some instructions to Mayor, but she couldn't quite follow them so she pulled her head out of the tent.
"Salki!"
> He hurried over and she nudged him past the tent flap. Intor repeated her words and the young male answered, then nodded. Whatever it was, they agreed on it which was fine with Mayor.
> That seemed to settle it and Salki untied her leading rope and gathered it up in his forepaws. Mayor gave him a big smile and extended a hoof for him to start moving.
> They headed out the same way she and Rainy Day had gone with Gol the previous evening and Mayor's ears flattened without her conscious control. They soon came to the spot where the packed dirt was stained and stank of old blood.
> Just beyond was the herd of donkeys, who were braying and pushing at one another anxiously. Mayor's blood ran cold and she hoped she wouldn't have to watch another of them die, but she saw the reason for their agitation.
> Other children, all about Salki's age, were untying the beasts and driving them onward with quick taps of their sticks. They were taking the herd out to pasture to feed, which was a relief.
> All except for a couple of jennies with their foals. No adult nomad was in sight, though, so Mayor relaxed a little. She didn't think the children would slaughter the animals themselves.
> The captive jennies lowed mournfully after the herd and their foals seemed undecided between running after the group and staying with their mothers.
> Mayor didn't know enough language yet to ask for an explanation, so she followed Salki closer and watched. He stopped a short distance away and pointed a claw at the two females. He said two words, neither of which Mayor knew.
> She gave him a puzzled smile and cocked her head to one side in question. Salki didn't respond, but he looked around, obviously waiting for something.
> Soon two young nomad females came, carrying two clay pots. Mayor had seen smaller bits of crockery here and there, mostly to hold precious things like salt or ointment, but these were quite large. The nomads deftly balanced them on their heads, which caused Mayor to stare in amazement.
> Salki said some more things, no doubt explaining what was happening, but Mayor wasn't paying much attention as she watched the newcomers. They brought the pots to the jennies and for a brief, horrifying moment Mayor had an image of trying to capture the donkey's blood as it ran out.
> She pushed the thought away, though her ears did splay before she was able to bring them under control. Salki went closer and she followed a few steps behind.
> The two nomad females called out to some of the males and a few of them came forward to firmly grip the donkeys by their ropes. They needn't have bothered, because the jennies seemed entirely passive, now that the herd was mostly out of sight.
> Mayor Mare suddenly understood when the nomads placed those two pots under the beasts and knelt down behind them.
"Ooh, I get it!"
> "[Yes!]" Salki said. He mimed the motion of grabbing teats and yanking on them, and he said: "[Milking.]" Then he pointed at the pot and said: "[Milk.]"
> Mayor committed the words to memory. Equestrians had cow milk and nopony she had ever heard of would drink donkey milk, but in principle it could be used to round out her and Rainy Day's diet and keep them from dying. She'd much prefer it to meat any day!
> She watched while the two jennies were milked, after which the nomad females grabbed their pots and the males took them after the rest of the herd. They didn't need to prompt them, not with the promise of fresh grass.
> As the nomad youths walked past Salki stopped one of them by putting his claw on her foreleg and jabbered at her a little. She seemed skeptical, but eventually she lowered her pot down so Mayor could look into it.
> "[Milk,]" Salki repeated.
"[Milk,]", she said, which made the female gasp and stare in shock.
> Apparently she was one of those who hadn't heard about the ponies yet. Mayor ignored her and tapped her hoof on the pot itself.
"[Salki, what?]"
> He seemed puzzled and said again: "[Milk.]"
> Mayor shook her head and pointed a hoof at the white liquid inside.
"[Milk,]" she intoned, then tapped the pot itself again and said: "[What?]"
> That made it click and he told her: "[Pot.]"
"[Thank you!]"
> Salki explained some more to the bewildered young female and from the bits and pieces Mayor caught she guessed he was just saying they were special ponies who could learn to talk.
> The nomad still gave the mare a few weird stares, but she seemed to accept the explanation, picked up her pot of milk, and walked off. Mayor wondered what they would do with the milk.
> Maybe the wealthier, more influential nomads would drink it, or maybe they would make cheese, which would last longer. She could ask Salki about it later, but first she had a more urgent need.
"[Come. Food, water, pee.]"
> She still blushed how she'd had to demonstrate one evening to get the word for that last one. Luckily Salki hadn't thought it weird or embarrassing.
> After that she had to somehow get him to understand a much more complex question. She wanted to see where they got their yams and roots. The vague notion she had was that the women went out to pick them, but Mayor didn't know when or where or how.
> Maybe it would happen soon and she could join them. She wouldn't mind working for hers and Rainy Day's meals.
> As they walked off toward the stream Mayor glanced back at the herd of donkeys in the distance. The nomads really were using them. Work, milk and meat. Perhaps it was a good thing the beasts weren't conscious enough to understand their own tragedy.

> ~~~~

> Eventually it had worked. She had had to repeat the words to Salki a few times and even mime digging in the dirt for food, but he understood her request. He was leading her to the middle of the camp and seemed in some hurry.
> That was a shame because Gol was still not back with Rainy Day and they had not met them out at the stream like Mayor had hoped, so she had no way to let her friend know why she was gone.
> Hopefully Rainy Day would just assume Mayor was spending the day with Salki and learning the nomads' language.
> They came to where a group of females, both young and old were setting out and Salki shouted something to them. Mayor caught the word for 'pony' and 'yam', but not much else.
> The group had apparently heard of the mare, but they still looked dubious at whatever Salki was proposing to them. He patted Mayor on the back a few times and that finally convinced them.
> Her best guess was that he had offered her to carry their things and it was confirmed when a few of the younger females were sent to fetch bags and rope. Those words Mayor understood immediately.
> The rest of the group stood around and shuffled their hind legs impatiently until Mayor had her impromptu harness. Salki leaned closer to her and whispered: "[Go ... women ... yams.]"
> She understood and gave him a nod and he passed her leading rope to one of the females. He had to reassure her, possibly telling her that Mayor would help bring back their haul, or maybe that she wouldn't try to run away from them.
"[Good morning!]" she told the nomad, "[Mayor Mare go yam food!]"
> Hopefully it would reinforce whatever Salki was saying about the pony. Her speech raised some eyebrows and caused a murmur in the group, but at least they didn't seem openly fearful.
> Pretty soon they started moving and Mayor paused for long enough to give Salki a quick nuzzle on his foreleg.
"[Thanks!]"
> Then she was off with the females.
> They soon passed out of the camp and became lost in the vast, flat emptiness of the steppe. Mayor kept glancing back to remember the way, but then she decided to keep her eye on the sun instead. That would give her a direction.
> The group of nomads paused at a stream to drink, but it was not the same one Mayor knew. This was much further out from the camp.
> In any case, she had no real weight to carry and the path was easy, so the morning turned into quite a pleasant walk. It wasn't long before Mayor had a faint smile on her muzzle and even said a word or two to the nomads when she thought she understood what they were talking about.
> Her comments didn't elicit any replies, but she saw one female nod to herself after, which was a confirmation of her newly-acquired language skills.
> Once, when Mayor spotted a solitary tree in the distance, she suddenly became worried about wildlife, wolves in particular, but she noticed that some of the younger females had spears, just like their men.
> They were obviously ready to defend themselves if needed.
> After about two hours of walking, as near as Mayor could judge, they reached their destination. The bit of steppe looked just like the rest of it, but apparently this place was different and the older females in the group recognized it.
> They stopped, drank from their water skins, then began their work. The nomads spread out and bent down as they examined the grass from up close. Mayor didn't have much choice but to follow the one holding her rope, until the nomad stopped and exclaimed.
> Mayor hurried closer to see what it was. The female was pointing her claw at a plant, which was growing in the middle of grass. She said something to Mayor and the mare thought she recognized the word.
"[Roots?]" she asked.
> "[Yes! Yes!]" the nomad said back and gripped the stem of the plant. She scrabbled at the ground with her fingers, then gave up and plucked her stone knife from her belt. It took her a few seconds of hacking at the tough ground, then she pulled out the plant's roots.
> As Mayor watched, the female cut off a bit and put it in her mouth. She chewed thoughtfully, then nodded to herself and showed Mayor. She repeated: "[Roots,]" then pointed her claw at the ground and said something else.
> Mayor gave her a blank stare and the female heaved an exasperated sigh. She moved forward and grabbed another stem, one which had been all but concealed under the grass.
"What? There was another one? Uh, [roots]?"
> The female repeated her word over and over as she hacked at the ground with her stone knife. Mayor understood this time.
"[Oh, dig. Thanks. Roots, dig.]"
> She looked around for another, but couldn't spot anything. It probably took some training to be able to recognize the plants and the mare gave her new nomad friend a pleading gaze.
> Once again the female found a plant and pointed it out to Mayor, but this time she didn't pull it out herself. "[Dig root,]" she said.
> It didn't look too complicated, so Mayor just grabbed the stem in her teeth and scooped the roots out with a hoof. Earth pony strength came to her aid and she soon had the morsel out of the ground. She shook it a few times to get rid of the excess dirt, then laid it down.
> She had to fiddle a bit to get one of the bags untied, but eventually she had the root safely stowed away. She gave the nomad female a self-satisfied smile, then asked for the other thing.
"[Yam, please? Where dig yam?]"
> It worked and the nomad stood and looked around. She exclaimed softly and pointed. Mayor just barely had time to grab the bag in her teeth and follow. She realized that she was holding an animal skin sack in her mouth, but pushed past it. Food was more important.
> A few steps brought them to another plant and this time the leaves were taller and clearly stood out of the grass. Mayor thought she could recognize that if she saw it. Once again the female showed her how to dig out several large yams.
"[Thanks.] I think I got it."
> Unfortunately Mayor Mare had no way to assure the nomad that she wouldn't run away and get her to let her rope go, but on the other hoof she would benefit from following her closely and learning more about how to spot these plants.
> She noticed that the female had left one of the smaller yams on the ground and she pointed at it while saying something Mayor didn't understand. After a few moments and a confused look from the mare, the nomad sighed and bent to pick the tuber up. She put it in Mayor's bag.
"[Oh! Thank you!]" the mare trilled.
> She picked the bag up in her teeth again and looked at the nomad female to see where she would lead them next.
> At that pace, they would need quite some time to fill up their sacks, but that was because teaching the mare had taken some time. Mayor wondered how the other nomads were doing.
> She still had all the extra sacks, perhaps the others would come and switch them once theirs were full. Mayor didn't mind carrying their haul back, not if they let her keep some of the yams for herself and Rainy Day.
> It would be hard work, and digging around the earth for yams and roots promised to be dirty and uncomfortable, but needs must, she told herself. Her and Rainy Day's life depended on it.
> Besides, she could not let a bunch of primitive nomads show up an Equestrian!

> ~~~~

> It was late in the afternoon by the time the nomad females decided to go back. As the day had progressed, Mayor's burden had increased until she was carrying a significant supply of yams, roots and berries, all the things the group had found.
> She had tried asking for a part of that for herself and Rainy Day, but her broken, lacking language and hoof-gesturing didn't come across and no answers were to be had.
> Mayor Mare hoped Salki would be more receptive and would intercede on her behalf. Somehow the youth understood her better than the rest of his people. Perhaps because he had known her the longest?
> Well, known her as a person the longest, at least. She didn't consider Willow's capture of her and Rainy Day as actually 'knowing' them.
> The sacks she was carrying weren't heavy, but Mayor still breathed a sigh or relief when the camp appeared on the horizon. The females began to walk faster and Mayor matched their pace subconsciously. She was looking forward to seeing Rainy Day and bringing some of this new food to her.
> Mayor herself was relatively well fed, at least for the day. As they had browsed and dug, she had seen the nomads pop the occasional root or berry into their own mouths, so she did the same. Here and there she grazed on a tuft or two of grass, if it looked particularly tender.
> It was perhaps the most well-fed she had been in the entire time with these people. Even if they didn't let her have any of the day's haul, she would bring Rainy Day along the next time and they would fill out their diet.
> Now if she could only find some salt...
> A few of the children ran to their mothers and sisters when they spotted them and there was a small commotion of greetings and hugs. Several of the females in her group came over to Mayor and rummaged in one of the sacks on her back. She stood still while they searched.
> The children squealed in delight when they were given some of those tasty berries. Mayor couldn't quite identify them, but they mostly reminded her of raspberries. In no time at all the young nomads had red stains all over their hands and faces, much to the dismay of some of their mothers.
> Even the mare couldn't help grinning at the sight. If Salki didn't prove it, these youth did. Children were more or less universal. These reminded her of pony foals in more ways than one.
> Too bad they grew up into nomads, Mayor thought to herself.
> Once all the greetings were done, the females moved on and the one who held Mayor's leading rope gave it a gentle tug as they headed for the camp once more.
> Once they were near enough there were more greetings, and some general interest among the rest of the people, but for the most part the group was ignored.
> In the center of the settlement, or as near as Mayor could tell, she was stopped and the nomads came to retrieve their bags of roots and tubers. She looked around anxiously for her only ally in the whole camp.
> Well, her only ally among the nomads. She didn't consider herself and Rainy Day as members of the tribe.
> Luck! Salki came running over, having apparently somehow heard about the return of the gathering party. He hurried to Mayor and put his hand on her forehead. He asked something and Mayor caught 'walk' and 'yam'. She made an educated guess.
"It was fine, Salki. [Walk, dig, yam, roots. Thank you.]"
> That brought her to the important question. She gave him as pleading a look as she could manage and let her ears splay out.
"[Please, yam, root, Mayor Mare, Rainy Day? Pony eat, please?]"
> His brow furrowed for a moment, but then he understood. He addressed the older female which was still holding Mayor's rope and exchanged some words with her.
> The mare couldn't follow their conversation, but she had a pretty good idea what it was, and she recognized the odd word here and there.
> "[Pony?]" the older nomad eventually concluded and gave Mayor a long, appraising look. The mare tried smiling and nodded, just once.
> She knew the case was won when Salki grinned, even before the female gave him the rope and went to untie one of the sacks. She inspected the contents for a while, then moved a few yams out of it into another bag.
> What was left she held out to the youth, and he said: "[Thank you.]"
"[Thank you!]" Mayor added herself.
> It was not nearly as full as she would have liked, but if Mayor took into account the food already in her belly it would do for a few days.
"[Salki? Food yam walk?] Uh..."
> She had no way of asking when the next excursion would be, but she tried to string some things together anyway.
"[Sleep, sleep, walk yam roots?]"
> It clicked and he said two words, but it wasn't ones Mayor knew.
"[What?]"
> He held out his forepaw and extended three of his claws. "[Three,]" he repeated, then pointed into the distance. She followed the direction, but it was just the sun. He said 'three' again and followed it with a new word.
> She tried to mimic the pronunciation as she gave him another quizzical look. Salki nodded and pointed at the sunset again. He shifted his claw to the other side of the sky and said: "[Good morning!]"
> Then he traced an ark across the sky with his forepaw, ending on the orange glow once more. "[Sleep]," he said. "[Good morning, sleep, day.]"
> It was most likely what he had meant - 'day' - so Mayor tried very hard to remember the word. It was a useful one. Maybe she could test it out.
"[Three day, walk yam roots?]"
> "Yes."
> She felt a bit proud of herself for the deduction. The other nomads around them were ignoring the pair and by that time the females had finished unloading their gathered food. One of them came over to pat Mayor's mane and say something, before hurrying off with her bag of yams.
> Salki laughed at whatever had been said and tugged at a few strands of her mane. He spoke some more, but Mayor wasn't able to catch any of his words. She just shrugged and smiled at the young nomad.
> Then he called her: "Meyermer, [come]!" and set off across the camp. She guessed he was taking her back to Intor and Rainy Day, so Mayor gladly followed.
>...
> It wasn't too far and pretty soon they came to the familiar camp and tent. The other mare was curled up on the ground next to the fire, but jumped to her hooves when she spotted them.
> "Mayor! You're back! I was worried!"
"Sorry. I didn't know it would take this long. Um, I brought something back, anyway!"
> Salki still held the sack with her... Mayor decided to call it 'pay'. She held out her hoof and he silently passed it to her.
> At that time Gol came out of the tent and exclaimed when she saw the mare. She hurried over and patted her muzzle, all the while jabbering something too quickly to be intelligible, even if Mayor had known more words.
> Salki explained some things, luckily, so the mare could focus entirely on her friend. She smiled and pulled out a large yam.
"Here! You can eat them raw. Go ahead."
> Gol's tone of voice reminded Mayor Mare of the children who had rushed forward to meet the returning females. Her eyes were almost glittering with delight and she stared fixedly at the bag. She called her mother.
> Something about the exchange felt wrong and Mayor's worry was reinforced when she saw Salki's face darken. The young nomad said some things, but Gol scowled at him and answered with a statement which sounded angry as she pointed to the mare.
> Intor came out of the tent at that moment and came over. The two youngsters argued for a bit longer, then the old female simply plucked the sack out of Mayor's hooves. She looked inside, then smiled to herself.
> They-
> They were going to take it!
"Wait."
> It looked as if Intor would simply ignore her. The nomads considered the ponies their property, so if either Mayor or Rainy Day brought something useful, they would just take it for themselves.
> Mayor stomped her hoof in irritation and her eyes narrowed.
"Intor! [Yam food pony! Yam Mayor Mare, Rainy Day!]"
> The old female wasn't going to take her seriously. Intor just snorted in amusement and turned to walk to the tent.
> Rage filled Mayor's heart and she took a step forward, intent on kicking some manners into the insolent nomad. Salki's paw gripped her mane painfully and she twirled, snarling at him as well in her righteous indignation.
> The young nomad looked angry too, but he shook his head. "[No,]" he said quietly. He added some more things, but even if Mayor could understand them she was beyond caring.
> She nearly tore free from the youth and went to bite Intor's hand until she relinquished what rightfully belonged to the ponies, but Willow stepped out of the tent and placed himself between his mother and the mare.
> He had his spear clutched in his forepaw and his expression was eager, expectant. If she attacked, he would kill her.
> Almost, almost Mayor didn't care. She snorted her breath out and it made two small clouds of steam in the cooling air. Her forehoof scraped the ground.
> Salki put his other forepaw on her muzzle and forced her to face him again. "[No, please!]" he told her.
> He began talking some more and gestured with his claws toward the center of the camp. He mentioned Mayor a few times and she caught the word 'yam' more than once.
> Only his paw on her face stayed her from charging. Willow might stick her with his spear, but she would break their legs! She pictured it vividly, but Salki's words kept intruding on the image.
> She couldn't quite guess what he was saying, but Intor had stopped and turned back to listen. Her face was still hard, but the smirk was gone. Eventually she murmured something to Willow and the tall hunter grunted something and relaxed.
> He still held his spear, but he didn't look eager anymore, just sullen.
> Salki put forth another argument and pointed at the sack Intor was still holding. When he was done, the two of them watched each other in silence. The only sound in the stalemate was Mayor's laboured breathing.
> At long last the female came back. Mayor forced her own muzzle to relax from its angry scrunch. Maybe they could reach some kind of an agreement. Maybe it had just been a misunderstanding.
> Intor put her paw into the sack and rooted around. She took out two biggest yams and held them out.
> That was it?!
> That- nag! She was still going to take Mayor's hard-earned food and all she would give them were a couple of measly yams?! The mare felt the scrunch coming back, the anger flaring up again, but Salki put his paw in her mane again.
> "[Please. Yam food ponies,]" he urged her.
> The fight drained out of Mayor. She couldn't win that confrontation. If she fought, she would be left with nothing. If she fought harder, Willow would kill her and probably Rainy Day too.
> That last part was what really swayed her. Even if she was angry enough to throw her life away on a futile gesture, she couldn't do the same to her pegasus friend.
> The rage drained away and was replaced by bleak despair. She sagged a little and closed her eyes so she didn't have to see the pittance Intor was giving her.
> She had allowed herself to hope, to think of herself as more than what she was. What the nomads saw her as. She was learning their language. She was helping them, voluntarily. She had thought she was becoming something more to them.
> Not so. She was just property to these people. Beast of burden. Animal. A resource to be exploited.
> Mayor decided never to bring any food home, or at least not openly. Whatever she could hide, she would give to Rainy Day. What she couldn't, she would eat.
> Intor was better than Willow, but neither of them deserved a single scrap from the ponies!
> Maybe Salki would be willing to hide the food for her. Mayor shook her head and filed that thought away for later. It made sense, but at the moment she hated every one of them. She sat on her haunches and grabbed the two yams she was being grudgingly given.
> Yes, they were the largest, but they still represented less than a quarter of the weight of what she'd brought.
> Three days, she thought to herself. She would do things differently next time.
> Her ears were folded back as she hugged the tubers to her chest. She glared at Intor, daring her to try anything else, but the old female just shrugged and went to the tent. She gave Gol some orders, then she was inside.
> The younger nomad seemed uncomfortable, especially when Salki gave her the rope. The young male leaned closer to Mayor's ear and whispered: "[Sorry.]" Then he was gone.
> Mayor switched her glare to Gol, who almost flinched at the expression, then jerked her head back. The rope slid out of the nomad's paw, but she made no motion to retrieve it.
> If only she could leave. Anywhere else in the camp would be worse, Mayor knew, except with Salki and his mother. She wishes she could take Rainy Day and go there, but the nomads seemed to agree she and Rainy Day belonged to Intor and Willow.
> Even Salki obviously thought that. He would send them back and it would be worse. Doubtless Willow would see it as another escape attempt.
> They were stuck, at least until she could talk well enough to negotiate something better with Darga, Salki's mother.
> There was nothing else to do but lead Rainy Day to the fire, settle down, and have her eat both yams. Mayor was still quite full from the day's browsing and the mouthfuls she had snatched while searching.
"Here. They are both for you."
> "No, you have one," Rainy Day replied.
"You need them. I ate plenty today while we were out looking for these."
> "I hid the other one."
"What?!"
> Rainy Day looked down, as if she felt guilty, and rustled her undamaged wing. "When you started arguing, nopony was looking. I took the yam you gave me and hid it under my wing. You all seemed to forget about it."
> Mayor nearly face-hooved, but then a tiny smile came on her lips. It wasn't much, but it was a small victory. Good old Rainy Day. Even if the nomads let her down, her friend would be there for her. She could always rely on another Equestrian in this strange, cruel world.
"That was brilliant!" she praised. "Okay, you have these two right now. We can put them in the fire to cook for a bit. We'll keep the big one hidden and we'll each have half in the morning, okay?"
> Rainy Day licked her lips as she watched the two yams between Mayor's forelegs. "Deal."
> It wasn't until later that Mayor Mare realized Rainy Day's appetite was coming back, which was a very good sign for her illness.
> They still had to figure out their sleeping situation, and with the spat they'd had she doubted Intor would allow them in the tent, but maybe Gol would give them a few animal skins to keep warm.
> The young nomad obviously felt guilty for what had happened, even if it had been her mother who had taken the food away from the mares. Gol might listen if Mayor forgave her and asked for blankets.
> That, and the fire, would keep them nice and warm. She could see the bundle of sticks the family had gathered as fuel and Mayor felt no compunctions about using them. After all, they had stolen her food, it would be basic justice if she took their fuel.
> They would undoubtedly make her go with them when they went to gather some more. After all, she was nothing but a beast of burden.
> She closed her eyes and worked on letting go of her anger. She still had to live with those people. She could enjoy the warmth and her full belly for an hour before she had to interact with Gol for the blankets.

> ~~~~

> The mares were woken up by shouting. For Mayor Mare that meant an instant of confusion and then regret that she couldn't keep dreaming. She opened her eyes to the sight of Intor apparently complaining about the sticks of wood they had used for the fire during the night.
> Mayor grimaced in annoyance. She had been sure to leave enough for the nomad to have fire in the morning until they could fetch more. Intor had no reason to yell.
> Rainy Day also jerked awake and sat up, which made the blankets slide off and expose both mares to the morning chill.
> Pretty soon Gol and Willow came out of the tent. The younger female was uneasy and cringed away from her mother's anger, but Willow looked eager. He flexed his claws and stretched his forelegs above his head.
> Mayor could read the brutish nomad like a book. He thought he would get to punish them and was looking forward to it. She still didn't understand why he was so intent on subjugating them, even though he knew they could talk and think.
> Maybe he was just a bully, in a civilization of bullies which rewarded bullying. It was as good an explanation as Mayor could come up with that early in the morning.
> Really early, since the sun was not yet up and the world was still covered by a thin, white mist.
"Sheesh, enough already!" she jabbed irritably.
> Intor fell silent at that out of sheer surprise and Mayor used the opportunity to get words in edgewise.
"[Sorry sticks fire. Mayor Mare, Gol walk sticks.]"
> She watched intently to see whether the female would understand. Just in case, she beckoned to Gol with a hoof.
"[Gol. Come walk sticks.]"
> The younger nomad looked to her mother, who gave a curt nod. She still wasn't happy, but she apparently understood and agreed with Mayor's offer. She gave her own orders to her daughter, then vanished into the tent.
"Come with us, Rainy Day. We'll probably go by the stream so we can drink and we both need breakfast."
> "We still have the yam," Rainy Day reminded her.
"Oh, right. Let's eat that quick before Gol sees it, then we can have some grass to top it off."
> It wasn't the most appetizing solution, but it would fill their belies.
"Oh, before I forget-" Mayor murmured to herself, "[Gol, rope. Rope. Please.]"
> There was a moment of confusion and then the young nomad came over to grab the loop of string around Mayor Mare's neck.
"[No, no. Rope.]"
> She didn't have enough words yet to explain she wanted more rope so they could tie down bundles of sticks on her back and bring back a larger load. Gol still didn't understand, so Mayor rolled her eyes and went to poke her head in the tent.
"[Intor? Rope please. Rope sticks.]"
> The interior was gloomy, but not enough to miss a slightly disappointed glower from Willow. Mayor remembered the first day he had brought them. He had enjoyed her crude 'training'.
> She was all too happy to deny him opportunities by mingling with the chieftain's family. Her only fear was that he would start on Rainy Day during the time Mayor was away. For that reason she had to start involving the other mare in her activities more.
> Which was exactly what she was doing by taking her with them to gather wood.
> Luckily Intor was cleverer than her daughter and quickly understood what the mare wanted. She reached into one of her bags of their belongings and took out a coiled length of rope.
"[Yes! Thank you.]"
> Mayor took it with her mouth even though it stank a little of nomad sweat. Then she pulled back and let the tent flap fall closed. Rainy Day was stretching her legs and Gol was waiting patiently, with her lead rope in her paw.
"[Go. Walk. Sticks,]" Mayor directed and held her own string up for the young nomad to take.
> She fell in step beside her and looked around for Rainy Day, who took the opportunity when no eyes were on them to fetch the yam from under her wing and take a big bite. She passed what was left over to Mayor, who just stuffed it in her own mouth.
> They walked in silence until they both had swallowed their morsel, then Mayor spoke up.
"How are you feeling?"
> The other mare thought for a moment, then her ears perked up and she shrugged with a tiny smile. "Better, actually. Cooked yams were a nice treat yesterday."
"Good. We'll go foraging again in, um two days I think. You should come with us. I'll explain to Salki that you shouldn't carry stuff, but you can help us find it."
> "Um. Okay."
> Mayor caught the note of unease in her friend's voice and the sudden splaying of her ears.
"Relax, it's not free labor. You can take a bite every now and then. Roots, tubers, even berries. The nomad women know where to find them and it's good eating."
> "Oh. Sure!" Rainy Day brightened up. "For a second I thought you'd gone native, Mayor."
"No, but it doesn't hurt to lend a helping hoof every now and then. It looks like diplomacy will be our only way home, so I got to get in their good graces."
> She looked back at Intor's tent, which was becoming lost in the crowd.
"Well, at least their chieftain's good graces. Salki is the chieftain's son."
> Rainy Day whistled in surprise. "You never said!"
"I only found out the other day. Um, when they brought us back, remember? That female with feathers and the staff?"
> "Oh. I- think so?"
> Rainy Day had been pretty much out of it during their return. The exhaustion, fear, and sheer effort they had gone through had made her fever flare back up and she had been nearly out cold when they came into the camp.
"Anyway, I'm picking up the language so I can bargain to take us home. We can pay with gold. I think they like shiny metal."
> The pegasus glanced around them. "Their knives and spears are made from stone. What's it called, that black stuff?"
"Obsidian. I think it's volcanic."
> "Yeah, I watched one of them work on it the other day. Um, by the next tent over. I dunno what he did, but he gave one of those stones a quick tap and a flake of it came off."
"Flake?"
> Rainy Day nodded eagerly. "Yeah, like a thin sliver of rock. Mayor, you wouldn't believe how sharp it was! The nomad used it to shave off his beard!"
> That particular word reminded Mayor and she glanced up. She had been delaying a visit to the hairdresser before she had been foalnapped and the problem was getting more and more noticeable.
> Her mane was losing its shape and becoming unruly and bothersome. It kept going in her eyes, or sliding down her muzzle if she lowered her head.
"Maybe I can get Salki to cut some of my mane off. It's starting to bother me."
> "Maybe it would be a good idea. It's definitely going pink at the roots, Mayor."
> She had known that, but had pushed it out of her mind. It hadn't seemed important.
"I know. No hair dye. I guess I'll just have to live with it."
> Rainy Day gave her a smile. "I think it'll suit you," she said. "As soon as it grows out enough. Your tail will take longer."
> At those words Mayor Mare twisted around and saw that indeed, the very base of her tail was definitely pink.
> It couldn't be helped.
"Thanks."
> The three of them were already out of the camp. Mayor wondered where they would find wood for their fire, but Gol obviously knew which way to go. They were heading toward the little stream in any case, proving true Mayor's guess that they would get a drink of water before working.
> Having talked about it with Rainy Day made Mayor very aware of her mane, and she blew an unruly strand out of her face. If her friend was right about how sharp those stone flakes were, maybe Salki really could cut it.
> She wouldn't trust any other nomad to wield a blade around her head.

> ~~~~

> It had taken some explaining and hoof-waving, but in the end Mayor Mare had managed to convince Gol that Rainy Day was not yet ready to carry a burden. Part of it was because there was no way to tie bundles of sticks to the pegasus without putting pressure on her injured wing, and another part was that she wasn't feeling well.
> Even the relatively short walk to where Gol found firewood had left Rainy Day breathing heavily and trembling with effort. She had been able to lie in the grass and rest while they gathered up the wood, but then it was time to go back.
> Unfortunately she had to walk that way by herself as well, because Mayor was hauling all the dead branches and twigs they had found.
> There had been surprisingly many, more than Mayor Mare would have guessed. Gol had taken them to a patch of shrubbery and bare trees and they found plenty of fuel for at least a couple of days.
> In the end Mayor had to bear the brunt of the weight, but Gol also tied up a few more bushels and slung them around her own shoulders. Her willingness to work and put in her fair share of effort had slightly raised the esteem both mares felt for the young nomad.
> More than once Mayor had caught Gol staring sadly at her. A few times she had opened her mouth as if to say something, but then changed her mind. Her best guess was that Gol felt bad about the incident with the yams the previous night.
> Perhaps it was just wishful thinking, but during their walk Gol had found a bush with a few remaining berries, which she offered to the mares first, before putting the last few in her own mouth. Mayor had chosen to read the gesture as an attempt at atonement.
> The way back was significantly slower and the sun was already on its way down by the time the tents came into view. Rainy Day looked just about ready to fall over and Mayor herself would be glad to be done with the haul. Her heart lifted a little at the sight of the nomad settlement.
> Salki would be there, and Rainy Day could rest.
"[Gol? Rainy Day ill. Skins Rainy Day? Fire, skins rest?]"
> The upwards inflection at the end made it a question and this one was easy to grasp. The nomad nodded. "[Yes. Raine-de rest.]"
> It was obvious they were talking about her, since Mayor had used her name and Gol had imitated it as best as her tongue would allow. The pegasus looked up and lifted her ears. "What are you two saying? I'll make it! We're nearly there!"
> The perceived slight made the mare perk up and move her hooves a little faster.
"No, no, nothing like that. I just told Gol you need a few skins to wrap up beside the fire and rest."
> "Oh. Yeah, thanks. What about you?"
> Part of her wanted to stay with her only real friend in this entire land, but some things were more important, so Mayor sighed.
"I'll find Salki. I need to learn more of their language and get in good with the chieftain. I'll see if I can take them a few bushels of sticks for their fire, like a gift."
> It had only just then occurred to her, but Mayor thought the gesture might be appreciated. Salki and his mother deserved the fruits of her labor a lot more than Intor and Willow in any case!
> Mayor thought for a way to phrase her question as they made their way past tents. Many of them were cooking their evening meal and Rainy Day spotted something which surprised her. "What the- Mayor, look over there!"
> She did so and saw what her friend had seen. There was a crude tripod of sticks built above one of the fires, their ends stuck into the ground around the firepit and their tips tied together with string. Hanging in the middle was an animal skin which formed a kind of crude bowl shape.
> Something liquid simmered in it.
"Weird. Why doesn't it burn?" Mayor asked, just as bewildered as her friend.
> "Can we ask Gol?"
"I don't think I know enough words to ask her how that works. Maybe they do something weird to the skin? Maybe a coat of some weird material?"
> They watched the strange contraption until it was out of sight. Even Mayor, with her blurry vision, could tell that the liquid was boiling. They were cooking soup, or broth in a pot made out of animal skin.
> She would try and ask Salki about it. Maybe it was some type of nomad magic?
> They made it to Intor and Gol's tent, and Mayor Mare stood patiently while the young nomad untied her burdens and unloaded the fuel next to the fire. After a minute or so her mother came out of the tent and nodded at them in approval.
"[Gol.]"
> The female paused and looked at her.
> Mayor pulled one of the nearby bushels to her and kept her hoof on it.
"[Sticks Salki.] Understand? [Mayor Mare sticks Salki.]"
> She obviously didn't quite get it and her brow furrowed in confusion. She even looked around to see if the mentioned nomad was around.
"[No,]" Mayor tried again and hefted up the bundle. "[Sticks. Mayor Mare sticks walk Salki.]"
> Luckily Intor got it first and explained it to her daughter. Mayor thought she caught the new word she used and decided it meant either 'carry' or 'gift'. She would ask Salki about it.
> Ultimately the decision came down to Intor, of course, who gave it some thought. She looked over the large pile of fuel they had brought, then graciously nodded. "[Yes, sticks gift Salki,]" she said, or at least that was what Mayor understood.
> Most of her load was gone, but a couple of bushels were left, which was perfect. She pulled away from Gol's paw and pointed a hoof in the roughly correct direction.
"[Mayor Mare go Salki.]"
> There didn't seem to be any objection, so she gave Rainy Day a smile.
"Bundle up and get some rest, okay? You're still weak from the fever. If I get anything in return for these I'll bring you it."
> "Okay. Just- Mayor, be careful. You know how dangerous these people are."
"I know. I'll be careful. I trust Salki, though."
> All she got in reply was a nod, then Gol began explaining about skins to Intor and she pointed at the mare by the firepit. She would see to it that Rainy Day was kept warm.
> In any case, it was time to go visit her nomad friend and his mother, and this time she was bringing gifts. She was sure the chieftain would appreciate it.
> She was probably important enough for the other members of their tribe to give her the needful. Perhaps there was even a kind of primitive tax and maybe that was why Intor had let her go.
> Still, getting something useful without even having to ask for it would be well-received, she was sure of it.

> ~~~~

> Mayor Mare came across a problem she had not anticipated. In hindsight it had always been a possibility, but she still didn't know quite what to do. Neither Salki nor his mother were in their tent. She had tried calling them, thinking they were inside, but when nothing happened and she poked her head in, she saw that it was empty.
> She stood there, a bit embarrassed, while she thought about what to do next. She still had some of her load of firewood and didn't much feel like carrying it all over the camp while she looked for her friend.
> The first problem was taking it off with hooves. Gol had done a good job and had tied the burden on her back quite firmly so it wouldn't fall. Mayor could just about reach the knot, but it was one of those special nomad inventions which needed dexterous claws to undo.
> She couldn't get her head near enough to bite through the rope either, so her only hope was to somehow hook a hoof under it and snap it through sheer strength. That was easier thought than done. The loop was just too far for her hind hoof and the angle was all wrong for her forehooves.
"Drat..."
> She looked around and saw a couple of nomad children watching her with curiosity. That could be the solution, she realized.
"[You. Come! Come! Please,]" she called and beckoned with her foreleg.
> The youth, a male approximately Salki's age as best Mayor was able to estimate, looked uncertain but took a hesitant step. She smiled at him in encouragement and called again.
> Once he was near enough she turned to present her side to him and patted a bundle of sticks with a hoof.
"[Rope, please. Uh, rope sticks Salki?]"
> She really should have learned the words for 'tie' and 'untie' by that point, Mayor thought, but it was too late. She had to rely on the ingenuity of the young nomad.
> To demonstrate, she tried to hook her hoof under the crude harness.
"[Please? Rope.]"
> It wasn't too difficult a prospect and the nomad said something in his language. Mayor filed it away to ask Salki later, and stood stock still while he reached uncertain forepaws to her.
> His warm palm stroked her side first, as if the youth was trying to reassure himself that she was real and wouldn't hurt him. Mayor turned on her best, most-winning smile.
"[Yes, rope. Thank you.]"
> That encouraged him and the nomad slid his paws to the rope. His small, deft claws made short work of the knot and her bundles of sticks slid to the ground.
> His job done, the young nomad stood there uncertainly, not quite knowing what to do next while Mayor picked up the wood in her hooves and just pushed it into the tent.
"[Wood Salki, Darga,]" she explained.
> That just left the rope and after a few seconds' thought Mayor put that into the tent as well. She could retrieve it later. Intor would probably want it back.
> With her task done, at least for the moment, Mayor sat on her haunches and faced the new child. She gave him another of her trademark smiles and tapped her own barrel with a hoof.
"Mayor Mare," she enunciated carefully.
> Then she held her hoof out to him and raised an eyebrow in the universal sign of a question.
> He got it and replied: "Buygra."
"[Thank you, Buygra!]"
> Her next question was easier, since she knew the useful words. It was probably bad grammar, but as long as the nomads understood it was good enough for the moment.
"[Where Salki please?]" she asked him.
> She didn't quite catch the answer, which Mayor had expected, but she knew all nomads used their forepaws a lot of communicating and Buygra was no exception. He turned slightly and pointed in some direction. That gave her a start, at least.
"[Mayor Mare Buygra walk Salki please?]"
> That one was pretty easy too, and the young nomad gave her a nod. He waved and spoke something to his friends, who had kept their distance and watched the little display with child-like wonder, then he started off in the direction he had indicated.
> Mayor caught up and fell in step just behind Buygra.

> ~~~~

> It was only a short walk away and her companion brought Mayor Mare to a small clearing in the tents. There was a slightly larger fireplace there and a lot of nomads were gathering. The air almost had a festive quality and she watched the proceedings with interest.
> Salki was the first to spot her and she didn't see him in the mass of people until he called her name and hurried to her. He and Buygra exchanged some words and Mayor felt like she should add something.
"[Salki! Thank you Buygra rope!]"
> Her friend was a bit uncertain about her wording, but when Buygra explained some more Salki grinned and patted the other nomad's shoulder. Then his expression changed to puzzlement and asked: "[Why Meyermer ... sticks ... tent]?"
> She missed some of the words, but she got the gist of it.
"[Gift. Sticks gift Salki Darga.]"
> That made him grin widely and he reached his paw into her mane to scratch her ears, something he knew she secretly loved but wouldn't admit.
> Mayor allowed herself to indulge the comfort for a moment, then shook him free and looked around again. Buygra was standing next to them, watching their antics with rapt attention, and a small smile was playing on his lips. Maybe she would soon have another ally in the camp.
> She sat on her haunches to free her hoof and swept it in a wide ark to indicate the hubbub.
"[Salki? What...]," she began, but had no way to finish the question. "[Um, what?]"
> Luckily he could read her broken nomad language pretty well by that time and he explained. The only problem was that Mayor only got about one word in five and couldn't form any kind of a mental image from his reply.
"[Sorry. What?]"
> Salki rolled his eyes and replied: "[Wait ... see.]"
> She decided to do just that, except they seemed to be in the way of people making whatever the preparations were for. After a few seconds Salki tapped her withers and beckoned with his claw, and she followed him to a group of other young nomads.
> The chatter in the group lulled for a few moments, but then it picked up again. Mayor tried listening to the conversations, but they were somewhat beyond her ability. She settled down next to Salki, who had sat on a tree log, and watched the proceedings.
> After a short while it all began to make sense! The nomads were having a festival of some kind! It had clicked for Mayor when she spotted one of them carrying some kind of drums.
> That, and the amount of meat sizzling on the large, central fire, and the general atmosphere of joy and laughter proved it.
> She wondered for a moment whether she should fetch Rainy Day, but with how tired the mare had been after their morning walk Mayor decided against it. It looked like they were mainly cooking meat, which wasn't a particularly pleasant sight.
> If they started roasting any vegetables she would snatch a few and take them to her friend.
> The nomads didn't seem to find it strange that a pony was sitting among them and apparently enjoying the festivities. Word about Mayor Mare and Rainy Day had apparently spread, although Mayor caught a few fearful or calculating glances here and there.
> The majority of the people were determined to simply ignore the strange creatures, some of them were still wary, and a few of them probably wondered if they could be used somehow.
> She would have enough time to worry about all those groups in the future. For the moment Mayor did her best to tune out the odd looks and simply watched what the nomads were doing.
> Off to one side she saw that a batch of meat was apparently ready and a few adults were taking it off the fire. Others crowded near and reached for pieces, sometimes with whole bones still poking out of the lumps.
> It made her stomach feel decidedly queasy and Mayor looked away. She couldn't keep her ears from folding back, but she quickly brought them under control again.
> A few children from Salki's group had managed to grab some meat and they hurried over with it. She would have preferred not to smell it, but Mayor didn't want to wander away from the only nomad she really trusted.
> She glanced around to see if she could spot Gol, or Intor, or even Willow, but she could find none of them in the mass of bodies.
> There was some excited jabbering beside her as the food was divided and passed around, and then a strange sight caught her eye. One of the older females in the group of youths had a leather bag with some gray powder inside. The other nomads who had pieces of meat were dipping it in the substance, then eating it with every sigh of relish.
> At first glance it looked like ground up rock.
"[Salki? What?]" she asked and pointed a hoof.
> He gave her the word, but it didn't make any sense to her.
"[Mayor Mare see please?]"
> He understood and called to the female with the bag. She came over, watching the mare warily, and listened to Salki in bewilderment. He had to repeat his request several times before the nomad carefully lowered her prize for Mayor to smell.
> Despite the strong odour of burned meat, the scent was instantly recognizable and Mayor couldn't stop her muzzle from dipping automatically into the bag.
> Rock salt!
> It melted along her tongue and made her moan in pleasure, even as the nomad yelped and drew the thing away. Mayor was dimly aware that Salki was getting scolded, but he just laughed it off and put his hand in her mane.
> After a few moments the mare regained control over herself and blushed in embarrassment.
"Oh, goodness, I- I'm really sorry," she began, then realized they couldn't understand her.
> She offered Salki and the female nomad one of her best, apologetic grins.
"[Sorry! Mayor Mare sorry!]"
> All the reply she got was a scowl, but Mayor was already thinking ahead.
"[Salki? What?]"
> "Salt," he repeated. He'd told her the word before, but now she knew what it meant. It was an important one.
"[Salki please salt gift Mayor Mare, Rainy Day!]" she pleaded.
> He looked doubtful, but she poured on the 'sad pony' charm and it worked. Her friend began to speak at length with the female, who argued and shook her head at the proposal.
> It went on for a short while and Mayor was so anxious about the result that she bit her lip.
> Eventually the other nomad grumbled something and nodded. Mayor beamed and held out her hooves, but the female jerked her bag away. It made the mare very confused and she looked at Salki.
> He shook his head and tried to explain, but she got none of it and just shrugged helplessly. He tried again: "[Meyermer salt ... day.]" He held up one claw as he said it and Mayor made the inference.
["Oh, one day,]" she repeated. "Tomorrow?"
> She couldn't fathom their reasoning and her best guess was that the nomads wanted to use the salt for their meat. They would let her have what was left the following day. It wasn't ideal, but she was not in a position to argue so Mayor just accepted it.
> Her tongue worked to gather the last vestiges of that delicious salt in her mouth, then she settled back down to enjoy the spectacle of a nomad feast.
> It looked like there would be music, at least some sort, and she wondered idly what that would sound like.
> Perhaps she should bring Rainy Day, too, Mayor thought to herself for the second time. It was a night to relax and forget their worries for a bit. It would mingle them with the nomads and despite the fact she disliked many of them and absolutely hated their way of life, she was stuck with them and needed to build some bridges if she were to have any luck convincing them to take the mares back.
"[Salki? Mayor Mare walk, Rainy Day here.]" she told him. "Understand?"
> At first he glanced around for the other mare, then he understood what she was trying to say and gave her a nod. That just left one question.
"[Salki? Rainy Day where?]"
> He pointed out a direction and she set off. Once she was near enough Intor's tent she would undoubtedly recognize it. Not to mention that the mare herself was quite unmistakable.
> Mayor smacked her lips again at the remembered taste of the rock salt, then went in search of her friend. Maybe if they did roast some vegetables she could get another taste, and some for Rainy Day as well.

> ~~~~

> The rest of the camp felt a bit deserted to Mayor Mare and she guessed it was because of the festivities. It made it harder to find her way, especially with those nomad tents looking quite alike.
> Eventually she recognized the fireplace and the pile of sticks she and Gol had brought earlier, but there was no sign of a pony.
> That was unusual and Mayor Mare went to poke her head in the tent to see if she was in there.
> It was empty. Intor and Gol were nowhere to be seen, and neither was Willow. The latter suited Mayor just fine, but she would have liked to find her friend.
> The only possible explanation was that the nomad females had gone to the party and had taken Rainy Day with them. It would have been uncharacteristically nice of Intor, but maybe not of her daughter.
> It was also possible that one of the nomads had taken Rainy Day out to eat some grass, or get some water.
> Mayor decided to return to the big fire and look for those familiar faces around there. She could go and look for Rainy Day again later, or she could simply take some food and bring it to the other mare. Provided the nomads cooked anything except meat, that was.
> At least the way back was easy, because nomads had apparently started their music. It sounded like drums and maybe some kind of rattles, but most of it was just singing. Male baritone voices in a repetitive chant and some females as sopranos holding the melody.
> It was at the same time familiar and utterly alien. In some ways it reminded Mayor of Zebrican music, but it sounded a lot less refined.
> The people couldn't afford to lug complicated and heavy instruments around, she supposed, not when they had to carry their entire livelihood. Maybe if they invented wheels and built some wagons.
> That thought made Mayor Mare pause with her hoof in the air.
> Could she introduce that kind of technology to these people? It would certainly raise her esteem in the camp and possibly win her and Rainy Day some luxuries. It would go a long way to getting in the nomads' good graces so she could ask them to take them back home.
> On the other hoof, it would give these brutish, savage people quite an advantage. A tribe which could afford to carry that much more stuff would become powerful. Their strength could mean that they would take over their neighbors.
> How long before they forged a powerful empire and began to threaten Equestria?
> She shook her head. Equestria would be safe. She would tell the Princesses and they would find a way to seal that rift between worlds.
> Still, could Mayor Mare take the presumption of disturbing the balance of power in the land to such an extent? It felt like too much responsibility and that was saying something for the mare who had spent most of her adult life as a mayor.
> It was a decision she could make later, Mayor decided. It looked like this day would be a time of festivity and joy. However alien nomad culture was, such events always meant abundant food.
> She could afford to let her mane down and experience some of the local culture, such as it was. She was allowed to relax and have a bit of fun every now and then.
> Mayor wondered if there would be dancing and if Salki would be willing. How would it even work with her a pony and him a nomad?
> Perhaps they could work something out.
> Her troubles would still be waiting for her in the morning.

> ~~~~

> As the sun slid down the western horizon the people became more and more lively. Mayor Mare kept near Salki, but she watched the festivities with interest and with an occasional smile on her muzzle.
> They kept up the steady sizzling of meat, but here and there one of the nomads tossed a yam near the fire. She was waiting to see if she could get some of that.
> The music started and stopped several times, but there didn't seem to be any dancing as yet so Mayor Mare decided not to be the first to try it. For all she knew it could be an insult or very inappropriate to dance at this particular festivity.
> All that if the nomads even knew how to dance. Perhaps it was exclusively an Equestrian activity.
> She kept her eye out for any familiar faces, Rainy Day in particular, but also Intor and Gol. She hadn't spotted any of them so far. Then again, the mass of people and the atmosphere of frantic merriment could have easily hidden them from her gaze.
> The night soon began to descend, but to her amazement it wasn't nearly as cold as the previous ones. It was most likely because of the large fire, which a group of nomads kept feeding with fresh wood, but there was also a mass of bodies around them and that made it seem less chilly.
> Their noise was almost overwhelming, especially to her sensitive pony ears. There was shouting and laughing, boisterous tales of heroism on their hunts, or what sounded like jokes which had some of the nomads rolling on the ground with laughter.
> Here and there Mayor understood enough words in a particular telling that she could guess at the meaning of the whole, but for the most part the people spoke quickly and it was hard to parse their speech.
> The most interesting thing happened when it was fully dark. Salki moved away from her side, which jolted Mayor out of her reverie. She had been half-dreaming about a particular Pinkie party back in Ponyville some years back. It had been held in the summer, but the atmosphere had been remarkably similar to this nomad festivity.
> She looked at the youth who was beckoning her with his paw and she slid from the log they had occupied as their own for the majority of the evening. The other children Salki's age got up as well, but the really young ones stayed put with dour expressions.
> Mayor wondered why that was as she followed the group, but she soon found out when a scent, both familiar and exotic, tickled her nostrils.
> Beer!
> It didn't make any sense. The nomads didn't farm, they didn't have wheat or barley or any kind of grain. How could they have brewed beer?!
> Yet there it was, two burly females with several grim-faced men standing around to ward off the overenthusiastic crowd. They had casks!
> For a few moments all Mayor could do was stand and stare, her jaw dangerously slack.
> The nomads didn't work wood, except from the spears they made and the supports for their tents!
> These also looked a little different than the people Mayor had become used to. They didn't wear animals skins but rather something which looked like leather. They had bronze bangles around their forearms, paint on their faces, and the females had bits of metal stuck in their faces.
> Mayor winced in sympathy. That didn't look too comfortable, especially the pieces going straight through their ears. They really were a strange people.
> She nudged Salki from behind and when he looked she pointed a hoof.
"[Salki? What? What? Water?]"
> He gave her the word: "[Beer!]". This one she was absolutely certain about because he grinned widely when he said it and almost jumped a little in place with joy.
"[Beer. Who woman? Who man?]" she asked and indicated the guards again.
> His reply didn't make sense to her. She caught something about going, and it felt like a long distance. Maybe they were the kind of nomad who travelled far away and brought back things the others couldn't get or make in the area?
> She hadn't seen any fields at all during they migration, so she had guessed the people did not farm at all. Maybe other people, a far way away, did.
> There was no more time to think of it because they were next in line. Salki spoke at some length with the female custodian of the beer, and she obviously didn't like what he was saying. It took some convincing, but eventually she accepted whatever it was Salki was explaining.
> Mayor had caught his mother's name, 'Darga' several times in his speech. She guessed he was bringing his authority as the chieftain's son to bear on the negotiation, if that was what it was.
> Finally the female seemed to agree and jerked her head to the others. They produced clay bowls and two of the males lifted up a cask. Dark, frothy, yellowish liquid poured out and Salki watched it with considerable delight and anticipation. The smell of beer became stronger.
> It was a different type of beer, Mayor guessed. It didn't look fizzy, like some of Equestria's finest ones, but she hadn't had anything even remotely resembling a civilized drink in so long that she involuntarily licked her lips.
> Soon Salki's friends were reaching over to take their bowls and hurried back to the log. Eventually only he and Mayor were left and the grownups poured one last bowl, then set the barrel down.
> Mayor, horrified, realized they weren't going to give her any! She quickly poked her muzzle at Salki's bare midriff, because it was the nearest body part she could reach. He looked down in surprise and she gave him her best, splay-eared, round-eyed look.
"[Please? Mayor Mare beer?]"
> It worked and he motioned to the other nomads to pour another one. They were too busy staring at the talking pony, though. Mayor guessed they really weren't from that camp if they didn't know about her and Rainy Day.
> The thought of the other mare made Mayor feel a bit guilty and she resolved to get her some beer as well, as soon as she could be found.
> The next explanation took some time and Salki had to go through much of her story, at least as he understood it, before the new nomads accepted it. They kept asking questions and at some point Salki just shrugged and turned to the mare.
> "[Mayor Mare, speak,]" he told her.
> They apparently wanted another demonstration. She sat on her haunches, put on her best smile and enunciated as properly as she knew how. She didn't know a single word of greeting other than 'good morning', so she improvised a little.
"[Please,]" she began and inclined her head, "[beer Mayor Mare drink.]"
> While they stared, she hurriedly added:
"[Mayor Mare walk wood fire. Thirsty. Please drink.]"
> That got her a round of uncertain chuckles, but the atmosphere lightened, especially after Salki clarified what she meant. Another bowl was produced and poured and her nomad friend kindly took both in his paws.
> She could easily have balanced it on her back, but she felt Salki still didn't fully believe her abilities in that respect.
> No matter. They both hurried back to the log, where Salki had to dislodge a younger nomad to regain their place. They sat and Mayor accepted her precious drink into her hooves. The others were already working to empty theirs and Salki didn't wait either.
> Sweet Celestia, it was strongly alcoholic! Mayor could taste it the moment she dipped her tongue in. It would feel *good* to get a little tipsy for a change!

> ~~~~

> The young nomad seemed reluctant, but Mayor Mare was certain. Everypo- everyone else was doing it, why shouldn't she?!
> Around them, the party had gotten into full swing as the atmosphere, combined with potent beer, took hold. The drums were playing incessantly, as were the rattles. The nomads were singing, and others were dancing by the fire.
> It wasn't any sort of dance Mayor had seen before, but it looked pretty easy. At first glance it was just jumping randomly around in rhythm with the music. Each dancer was alone, but she had spotted some couples hopping and twirling next to each other.
"[Come! Come! Salki, come!]" she repeated.
> At long last, and to some chuckles and laughter from the other young nomads, he stood up. She had her wrist hooked around his forepaw and tugged him forward, up to the roaring fire.
> Aside from its flickering light, the night was completely black. Even the stars were invisible with the powerful fire. The people were just vague shapes in the air, mostly above Mayor, but a few of them were sitting down.
> She pulled Salki to a clear spot near the other dancers and studied their moves for a moment longer.
"[Go! Salki,]" she encouraged, but didn't know the correct word. "Uh, [walk?] Eh, close enough. [Go!]"
> Besides, he knew very well what she wanted. She'd pointed out the nomads having fun in the middle and he'd told her what it was called. The only problem was that her head was spinning from the strong beer and she couldn't remember the word.
> It didn't matter. It was a night to forget her problems for a while and simply let loose. Mayor shuffled her hooves, caught the beat, and began to hop in place.
> The others were also doing something with their forelegs, but Mayor wasn't feeling too stable on her hooves so she did not have that luxury. It was still fine. Her mane flew all around her face and she twirled her tail to help keep her balance.
> She jumped in place, but then she saw Salki wasn't doing it.
"[Salki! Walk- uh, *dance*!] Yeah, that was it! [Dance!]"
> He rolled his eyes, but then he began to smile and when she started moving again he followed suit. It took them a few hops to synchronize, then they were moving in unison with each other, if not exactly with the other dancers around the fire.
"Yeah!"
> Mayor tried turning a little, nearly stumbled, then recovered beautifully and kept up her bouncing. It was doing strange things to her insides and was making the world spin even worse than before, but it also made her feel free and alive and light as a feather.
> Was that how pegasi felt when they flew?
> Rainy Day would be sorry if she missed this, Mayor thought to herself. She would have to wait however long before the nomads decided to have a festival again.
> She wondered idly what the occasion was, but then put it out of her mind.
> The firelight, the night sky, nomad voices, the drums, even the alcohol - it all mingled and set her blood burning. This part of their culture she liked!
>...
> Mayor Mare and Salki were gasping for breath by the time they stumbled back to the youngsters' log. She had to fight for breath amidst her giggles. Salki was grinning too and his hand he had put on her back to keep his balance was slick with sweat.
> Once back, the mare looked for her bowl of beer, but of course it was empty. She had drained it before joining the dance. It was a bit hard to remember.
> Luckily, one of the other females, about Salki's age, still had some. She was holding the bowl in her forepaws and took a sip every now and then.
"[Sorry,]" Mayor apologized in advance. "[Sorry! Drink. Mayor Mare thirsty!]"
> She just nudged the nomad's paw away and dunked her muzzle in. Before the female, whoever she was, could react, Mayor had drained most of the beer.
"[Thank you!]"
> She got a glare in reply, along with a string of what she assumed were curses, but Mayor was in too good a mood to care about that. She flopped right down on the ground on her back and let her legs sprawl. It was quite okay, the big fire had warmed the ground even this far out.
> Salki had to apologize to his friend, who was now deprived of her beer, but eventually he managed and sat down on the log next to Mayor. He told her a few things which sounded harsh.
> He was probably berating her for her behaviour, but Mayor could see he was smiling so that was okay. She smiled back as she scrambled back up to her hooves.
> She sat on her haunches beside him and nuzzled into his paw. When he didn't immediately relinquish it, she gripped it carefully with her forehooves and turned it around.
> It really wasn't like a paw at all. The nails didn't retract, like some of the feline species, nor were they talons, like with most birds and griffins.
> Most of the appendage was just that soft, supple flesh. Those- what she had called 'claws', were actually made of several segments and could bend in very intricate fashion.
"[Salki? What?]"
> She looked at him and patted his forepaw with her hoof a few times as she repeated the question.
> "[Hand,]" he told her. She whispered the word to herself to make sure she would remember it. There wasn't anything like it in the Equestrian language, so she would just have to use the nomad word for it.
"[Thank you. Hand,]" she repeated, then carefully curled one of his 'claws' away from the rest. "[Salki, what? Hand, what?]"
> He understood and told her: "[Finger]"
> She manipulated his... hand and his fingers a little.
"[Hand. Finger. Thank you.]"
> When she let it slip out of her grasp, Salki obliged her by putting it in her mane and giving her ears a scratch.
> Only one thing was missing to make the night perfect.
"[Rainy Day! Come. Walk. Rainy Day beer!]"
> The pegasus also deserved to forget for a night, especially with her injury and recent illness. A night of fun would do her good!
> Salki didn't resist as Mayor took his hand right with her mouth, since she needed all four hooves on the ground to keep steady. She let it drop for a moment to repeat:
"[Salki, Mayor Mare go Rainy Day. Rainy Day beer, food, dance!]"
> Then she took his fingers with her teeth again, gently of course, so she wouldn't hurt him, and tugged him after herself. She knew the way to the tent.
>...
> It took some finding in the dark and Mayor hadn't thought to bring a torch or anything. The moon, still about half-full was light enough, but only once they had gone far enough from the large fire and their eyes had adapted to the dark.
> She took a few wrong turns, but that wasn't her fault. The whole world was still swimming in her vision and her legs were none too steady.
> Luckily Salki seemed better able to hold his alcohol and brought them back on track each time.
> Soon they found the correct tent. The fire was dark. There were no sounds nearby. Every nomad was at the party.
"Rainy Day?! Where are yooooou? Come have some fun with us!"
> There was no answer to her call. Mayor looked around again, but the grass around the fire pit was empty. There were no blankets under which the pegasus might have been lying, cuddled up.
> Maybe she was in the tent? With the nomads gone, Rainy Day could have tried to seek out some warmth.
> It was a good guess and Mayor went to the tent flap. She pushed it aside with a hoof and looked inside.
"Rainy Day?"
> The tent was completely silent. Parts of it were covered by black shadows, so Mayor Mare walked inside. Salki held the flap open even without her having to tell him. He knew what she was looking for.
> She walked all over the tent, hoping to trip over the sleeping pegasus even if she could not see her, but there was nothing. Some blankets were spread on the ground for Intor, Gol and Willow, some bags with their belongings, even some clay pots, but no mare.
> Mayor went outside again and looked blankly at Salki.
"[No Rainy Day.]"
> He shrugged and let the tent flap fall so he could point at the fire some distance away. "[Raine-de ... fire? Intor ... dance ... Gol?]"
> She didn't get all of it, but she got the gist. Maybe Intor and the others had gone to the festival and had taken the mare with them so she wouldn't escape.
> There were a lot of people at the fire, it was definitely possible that she had missed them all. She still couldn't help worrying. It had been most of the day since Mayor had seen her friend and she didn't like that fact. Maybe Rainy Day had tried running away again? Cold worry began to grip Mayor's heart and it cleared the alcoholic fog from her mind.
> Still, there was nothing better to do and Mayor follow Salki back to the festivities. This time she would actively look for her friend, rather than just sit on a log and watch the people.
> "[Intor!]" Salki suddenly said. Mayor looked up in time to see the familiar nomad coming toward them from the general direction of the festivities. She stopped and cast a confused look at Mayor Mare. She jabbered something urgent to Salki and took a step toward the mare, but Mayor stepped back and pinned her ears.
> She didn't like the eager, hungry look on Intor's face.
> Being denied didn't sit well with the old female, so she directed her anger toward Salki. She grumbled and yelled and shook her fist at him, all the while the youth stood his ground.
> She seemed to be threatening him.
"[Salki? Rainy Day? Where Rainy Day?]" she reminded him.
> He asked about that, she heard the name. Intor explained and that made Salki give a small, little gasp of shock. He stepped closer to the mare and put his hand on her back.
> His reaction to the answer felt like a ball of ice in the pit of Mayor Mare's stomach. Something had happened to her friend.
> They had done something!
> A low growl was emanating from her throat.
"[Intor! Where Rainy Day! WHERE?!]" she all but shouted.
> She couldn't understand the reply. Salki also tried to explain, but even with the few words she could catch in his speech she couldn't make heads nor tails of it.
> Besides, did she dare to know? What if they had simply slaughtered her for meat, having decided at last that she was more trouble than she was worth?
"[Salki? Go, walk Rainy Day. Salki, Mayor Mare walk Rainy Day! Please!]"
> He looked down at her for a while the pity in his eyes making the mare tremble in cold terror. Then he shook his head.
> "[No. No ... walk Rainy Day. No.]"
"You- You *bitch*!" Mayor growled.
> She would have lunged at Intor, but Salki desperately threw his arms around her neck and pulled her down. They fell in a tumble.
> Mayor kicked and fought to get free and deliver a well-deserved bucking to the other nomad, but Salki was nimble and stronger than she had guessed. She bit him a few times and landed a glancing blow on his flank, both of which made him shout in pain.
> A moment later Intor kicked at her, also yelling.
> More nomads came to investigate the sound and soon one of them had a hold of her rope. The cursed rope she had managed to forget for a while!
> It choked her as they pulled her away and one of the burly hunters flipped her on her back. Salki was still yelling something, but they weren't listening to him.
> Two of the beasts held her down while one of them pulled out his stone knife.
> This was it.
> Mayor went limp and gave in. They had already killed Rainy Day, what was the use fighting them any longer? At least the nightmare would be over.
> There was a dull thump and a few seconds later the nomad with the weapon yelled. The knife slapped her barrel as it fell, but it didn't pierce her skin.
> When Mayor opened her eyes she saw that the hunter was holding his arm, which was bleeding. Salki had bitten him! A short distance away Intor had both hands on her face.
> The younger nomad pushed the older male, and out of sheer surprise and outrage the hunter moved. Mayor was free.
> She was still numb, shocked, not understanding. She had been ready to go, but the killing blow hadn't struck.
> Salki kept shouting, invoking his mother's name like a shield while the bitten hunter looked like he was about to kill him. Luckily the authority of the chieftain held and the others held back their murderous friend.
> Then the youth knelt down next to Mayor. "[Meyermer. Come ... Salki. Walk ... Darga ...]"
> She didn't get much of that, but it looked like she would live, at least a while longer. Salki took hold of her rope and pulled her up. Mayor obeyed numbly.
> She followed when the youth led her away. She didn't even care where he was leading her.
> Rainy Day was gone. Their captors were nothing more than savages. She shouldn't have let her guard down, not even for a minute. She should have been with Rainy Day.
> At least they would have died together. Mayor Mare had no doubt Intor had been about to do to her the same as they had already done to her friend. There was no doubt that Willow had finally convinced his mother that the mares were too much trouble.
> Maybe Salki had just saved her life, twice over. First from the slaughter and second from being put down for attacking Intor.
> He had fought the larger and stronger hunter to keep her alive. Maybe that was a glimmer of Equestrian friendship? Maybe that was why she had followed him?
> It was good that he kept his hand in her mane, because Mayor couldn't see where they were going. The world, always blurry to her, was completely awash with the tears which flowed freely from her eyes.
> Behind, Intor was loudly complaining about something, but one of the hunters barked something back. It had the words 'Darga' and 'Salki' in it.
> If only she'd introduced Rainy Day to them. Perhaps she could have extended the protection of the chieftain's family to her friend, if only she'd thought to try!
> In a very real way, Mayor Mare blamed herself for her friend's death. She had been responsible for Rainy Day's well-being. It had been her duty and the moment there was some fun to be had Mayor had gone to the festivities and left her friend alone. She had had a responsibility to Rainy Day, and to her parents back home.
> Now, she had nothing.
> Only one purpose remained. She had to get away and return home, in any way possible.
> She had to warn the ponies of the nomad menace.

> ~~~~

> PART TWO: Alone

> Mayor Mare trotted along with her pole and her two pots carefully balanced across her back. It had taken her some time to explain to Darkhan exactly what she wanted: large clay pots with holes along the rim so she could tie two of them to opposite ends of a stick.
> That way she could easily carry them without hands if she slung the contraption on her back. It was a good way for her to fetch water without fiddling with those hoof-unfriendly leather bags and, more importantly, without Salki having to go with her.
> She picked her way carefully, despite having trodden that same path many times before. The ground was uneven and the snow underhoof could easily hide a hole. If she spilled her pots, she would have to go back to the stream to refill them. Worse, if the water splashed on her she would be cold and miserable.
> Of course, the downside of her balancing stick was that if one pot spilled, even a little, they would quickly both go. If she were really unlucky they might even break and she would have to wait for the craftsman to make more.
> A bang of pink mane fell into her eyes and she absentmindedly blew it away. It was getting long and unwieldy again. She would have to ask Salki to cut it.
> On the plus side, she could trade it to some of the nomad women for a few treats. Her pink mane - a color the people could find nowhere else - were highly sought after. More and more nomads wore bits of it woven into their clothes, or, to Mayor's unending surprise, twisted into their hair.
> People were strange, sometimes.
> She came among the first, sparse tents and the ground became an annoying, cloying mud, trodden down by many feet. Feet and hooves. The donkey herd was tied near there, so they wouldn't have to be herded across the entire camp to reach water.
> The animals were out, of course, driven to pasture by some of the nomad children. Only one of the beasts was still tied to the thick, notched stake, which had been hammered into the hard ground. A lone female with a swollen, pregnant belly, lowing mournfully at being left behind.
> One of the older girls was watching over. They were probably expecting a birth soon, Mayor figured. It was no longer a shock to her that the nomads watched, and sometimes assisted those. Much of their wealth was tied up in the donkey herd and they did not want to lose foals.
> True, they killed the creatures for their meat, but that made it even more important that replacements were born without issue.
> The jenny brayed at her, but Mayor Mare paid it no mind. She had work to do and she headed straight to the chieftain's tent. Salki would be out, of course, training with the older children and some of the hunters.
> That would include Willow, which made her scrunch her muzzle in distaste, but there was not much Mayor could do about it. Willow was a prominent hunter in the community and all other young men wanted to be just like him. Her personal dislike had caused many an argument between her and Salki, but it had gotten them nowhere.
> Mayor had proven her worth enough to be accepted, if not exactly loved by the nomads. She had guaranteed her safety in their camp, but she had practically no political pull.
> Darga and Salki both listened to her stories of Equestria and the ponies' incredible accomplishments, but then they laughed at her promises of wealth should they take her back.
> Besides, Mayor was almost afraid to return. She would have to face Rainy Day's parents and her sister, and tell them that she had lost her in this ugly, brutal world.
> She simply couldn't get herself to safety and then have the Princesses close the way. It would trap Rainy Day and Mayor would never forgive herself.
> That her friend was still alive she believed with all her heart. She hadn't been killed. The mare was resourceful and strong, she would have survived even the nomad's cruel world. She had survived Mayor's betrayal and she would stay safe wherever she wound up.
> Even now, months later, Mayor sill could not think of that night without a dull pain in her chest. While she had been out among nomads, having fun, Rainy Day had been sold to the merchants.
> For a long time Mayor had hoped the traders would come back so she could find out where her friend had gone, but they never did. Salki had explained, after much trial and error, that the travelling folk were not really nomads.
> They were of a different culture and they came and went as they pleased. They were tolerated by the nomads because they brought essential goods, like salt and beer. They would roam thousands and thousands of miles and it was quite possible that a travelling merchant would not see the same camp of nomads more than once in their entire life.
> When she had questioned, as best she could, where Rainy Day had been taken, Salki had just shrugged and averted his eyes. The nomads didn't know, nor did they care, where the merchants went.
"Intor, you foul-mouthed, black-hearted hussy," Mayor growled to herself under her breath.
> She hadn't forgiven the woman for what she had done, and she probably never would. Rainy Day hadn't been able to work because of her injury. Intor had known that!
> Despite that, despite the mare being Mayor's only friend, she had given her away.
> And for what?!
> A few bowls of strange spices. Some copper bracelets and a golden trinket. A few bags of salt and a keg of beer.
> That was how much a pony's life was worth to the nomads. Mayor snarled in rage and one of the men who saw her expression nearly fell on his back as she passed him. Her tail swished in annoyance and her ear flicked at the curse he directed her way.
> She still couldn't speak the language perfectly, but she knew swear words. Such inventive swearing the nomads had. Most of it involved fornication or death. Fitting.
> If only it were in her power to punish Intor and Willow! Mayor had tried, oh how she had tried, but Darga's grasp on power was precarious at best. Her late husband, Salki's father had been the real power in the camp, and Darga had only managed to hang on to that position through sheer tenacity and bloody-mindedness.
> That woman was merciless, ruthless. She cared for nothing and no one, with only one notable exception in the person of Salki. For him she would have done anything. It was for him, perhaps even more than for herself, that Darga clung to the title of chieftain. She wanted to pass on the position to Salki as his birthright.
> Darga couldn't afford an enemy in Intor, yet she had defied the demands to give Mayor back on Salki's plea.
> Him, Mayor owed a debt of gratitude. Who knew what Intor and Willow would have done without his protection. For that matter, who knew what Mayor herself would have done to them after she found out they had sold Rainy Day away.
> It was for Salki that she trudged across the camp with her pots of water. She was going to wash some of his clothes as best she could, and then she was going to make him a meat stew.
> She had had to learn, even if she didn't eat it herself. Darga had kept her from Intor, but Mayor still had to earn her keep.
> Household tasks, menial labor, even watching over the donkey herd, those were the jobs she was qualified for. She couldn't help with their crafstmareship, because so much of the nomads' work required hands and fingers. She couldn't perform their strange, ineffectual type of magic. She could not hunt.
> "Meyermer!"
> She recognized the voice and her expression cleared up a little as the young man fell in step beside her.
"[Oh, hi Buygra. How is Xuan?]"
> The nomad inclined his head politely in a silent thanks for her asking. "[She is well. Perhaps we will soon find a tent together.]"
> It was good news and Mayor smiled despite her dark thoughts just moments ago. The girl's parents held an intense dislike for Buygra and none of them, neither the two youngsters nor the mare could fathom why.
"[Spear on one side when sleep with Xuan. Father, very fierce!]"
> The youth laughed at her suggestion, then he pointed at the buckets. "[Need help?]"
> Mayor shook her head.
"[Thank you. No.]"
> He walked with her a few paces in silence, just watching how the pole and the two clay pots swung freely. "[Meyermer, I still can't understand how you can carry that.]"
> She glanced back, then suppressed a shrug, which would undoubtedly have disturbed the balance of her makeshift buckets.
"[Pony, good balance. Easy.]"
> He was about to head off on whatever task he was about, but Mayor thought of something and spoke to him.
"[Buygra? Where Salki?]"
> Buygra had to think for a moment, then pointed into the camp. "[I think with Darkhan, learning how to make spears.]"
> That was good news. Mayor Mare had thought, mistakenly it seemed, that the young man was with Willow and some of the other hunters, practicing. She didn't like it when he did that, because he came back smelling of blood and sweat.
> Even with the hole in the top of their tent she was still not comfortable sleeping in the same small, enclosed space with Salki after one of his hunts. Then again, she thought, the weather was getting warmer, the snow was starting to melt, pretty soon she would be able to sleep outside again. She would have preferred that to the stuffy and smelly tent.
"[Good. Thank you. I will find Salki.]"
> She would have asked Buygra about his special some-nomad, but another familiar face caught her eye. One of the older females, but she didn't spot Mayor and they were going in a different direction, so there was no point in calling out.
> The sight reminded her of her plans, though. The women of the camp had asked Mayor to go with them again, to try and find vegetables hidden under the snow. Mayor knew there was not much hope for that, but she was inclined to try. The nomads could always slaughter a donkey or two for themselves, but she had little choice.
> There was some grass still poking through the snow in some places, and she could dig to get at some more, but it would be tasteless and unappetizing, barely fit to be called 'food' at all.
> If it weren't for those same donkeys and their milk, she would have starved during the winter. She would have to prepare better for the next. The only question was 'how'?
> The nomads didn't know much about food preservation, especially the kind which didn't involve meat. They smoked the strips of flesh, or dried them, or salted them, but none of that was useful to Mayor. They knew how to curdle milk, and that would keep for a while, but still not nearly long enough.
> She had been lucky that winter, Mayor Mare knew that. Traders had come more often than normally, at least so Salki had told her, and she had been able to trade locks of her pink mane and tail for some shrivelled, nearly spoiled potatoes and mouldy grain.
> Oh, and beer. Plenty of beer. It was essentially just grain in liquid form, she told herself. The fact that it also allowed her to forget Rainy Day and Equestria for a few hours also helped.
> There were moments when she felt like giving up, like her life no longer had any purpose and all that was left for her in the future was suffering and the boring, backbreaking slog. She needed to feel better when that mood overtook her and alcohol helped.
> She still had a small keg hidden away in the tent against - Mayor nearly barked a laugh - a rainy day. Only Darga knew where it was because she had helped hide it. Salki could not be trusted with it. The boy had a heart of gold, but he could not control himself around drink.
> "[I have to go. Mother sent me to catch a rabbit,]" Buygra said suddenly, bringing Mayor out of her reverie.
> She blinked and remembered that the young nomad had been walking beside her while she had gotten herself lost in thought again.
"[Oh. Okay. Good luck.]"
> Buygra reached over to give her ear a quick tug, then he was gone. That was okay, she was nearly at the tent. Hopefully Darga would be there to tell her how to wash fur-clothes, or if it was even possible.
> Mayor hoped it was. She had to do something about the smell. It turned out most nomads didn't bathe during winter and a lot of them hardly bothered to wash themselves at all. The tent was becoming unbearable for her sensitive pony nose.

> ~~~~

> She was splashed up to her belly in icy cold water by the time she was even close to done, but Mayor didn't particularly feel the cold. She had gotten used to it and the hard work had kept her warm.
> Her mind had fallen into a kind of stupor, where all that mattered was the monotonous work and she didn't think about anything else.
> Rubbing the fur clothes had proven to be hard work and as expected Darga didn't seem particularly interested in helping. She had shown Mayor how to scrub filth out of the animal skins the people wore, then left her to it.
> She didn't have a tub, or even a large enough bucket, so her method had consisted of pouring water from her clay pots onto the garments, then beating them with a round stone and scrubbing them as best she could with her hooves.
> In lieu of a tub or a stream, it had to be done on clean snow and she was running out of that around Darga's tent.
> Then she had to wring out the excess water and, the part she was still dreading a little, use an animal jawbone as a primitive comb to brush what fur remained on the garments. Luckily that wasn't much.
> Mayor Mare was panting with effort when Salki came back and stopped in surprise. "[Meyermer? Cleaning why?]"
> She took the chance to rest for a moment, then pointed a hoof at the young man.
"[You stink. Clothes stink. I clean.]"
> Salki made a great show of sniffing himself, but of course he would be used to his own scent and wouldn't notice anything out of the ordinary. He didn't argue, though, and Mayor got an idea.
"[Come. Come here. Come,]" she called to him.
> Salki walked over and picked up one of what could loosely be called 'shirts'. It was still dripping with water.
"[Here. Take. Use.]"
> She forced the disgusting bone-comb into his hand and waved to the fur-lined vest which was drying on the side of the tent.
> Perhaps it wasn't manly work, but Salki still went to do it. That saved her from having to wield that macabre thing with her mouth. Mayor was only too glad to concentrate on the other parts of washing if someone else would do that.
> Besides, now she had company and the task was no longer as onerous.
"[Salki? You learn make spears from Darkhan?]"
> The young man looked a little sheepish as he nodded. "[Maybe?]"
"[Need practice?]" she guessed.
> "[Yeah. Making spears is hard,]" Salki explained. "[One wrong tap and crack! Stone splits wrong.]"
> Mayor Mare herself had seen the tribe craftsman working on his strange obsidian blades. She still couldn't quite wrap her mind around the fact that a simple stone could be split into flakes with such sharp edges, despite the fact that Salki had used those to cut her mane and tail.
> That thought reminded her.
"[Oh, Salki? Please cut mane. Long.]"
> He peered at her and chuckled: "[Long, or you want to trade?]"
> She stuck her tongue out at him, but admitted the truth.
"[Both.]"
> He looked at her for a short while, during which the mare became a little self-conscious, then he remarked: "[No more yams to trade. People have eaten them all. You look thin.]"
> She shuffled away from his gaze a little before Mayor could have brought herself under control, then she sighed.
"[I know. Winter, no food for pony. Go with women tomorrow, look for yam, roots, potatoes,]" she said hopefully, then added: "[Berries maybe.]"
> "[It'll be spring soon.]"
> The word itself filled Mayor with longing, even if it was in the nomad speech.
"Spring," she said in Equestrian. "I would love spring right now."
> The youth thought for a moment as he parsed her words, then tried talking in her own language: "Spring nice. Spring warm many food."
> Even that much warmed her heart and Mayor went over to give the boy a hug.
"Thank you, Salki."
> With Rainy Day gone one of Mayor's worst fears was that she would forget her own language if she didn't use it. It was a silly thing to be afraid of, but she simply couldn't get rid of the nagging worry.
> The only way to solve it, as she saw it, was to teach Salki and some of his friends Equestrian. It wasn't a particularly useful skill, but some were interested and went along. A few of them only because Salki was doing it, but it still counted.
> "[Yeesh, you are cold!]" Salki commented and pushed her away.
> She became aware of the same fact herself. Where he had put his arms around her were searing lines of fire. Even a hoofstep away she thought she could feel the heat radiating of Salki.
> Her very bones were ice. She had been working outside, in the winter chill and in the nearly-freezing water for Celestia knew how long as she washed his clothes. She should have built a fire to keep herself warm, but going to look for wood had seemed like an unnecessary chore.
> Perhaps she had relied on her fur a bit too much.
"[I'm c-c-old...]"
> Now that she had stopped moving, that she had had a chance to think and feel a little, Mayor was beginning to shiver. The water had soaked her forelegs and her chest, and it felt like patches of her fur were frozen solid.
> Salki grew alarmed as he watched her trembling. "[Fuck, get in the tent, Meyermer.]"
> She looked to where the last piece of garment was soaking in the nearly empty clay pot.
"[But- not done work...]"
> "[Inside!]" Salki ordered curtly. He slapped his palm on her rump and Mayor instinctively walked forward. He had to nudge her or she would have missed the opening.
> She pushed the flap aside and entered, the young man right on her heels.
> The air inside the tent was *hot*. It felt like a sauna and the heat almost physically hurt. She stood near the exit to give herself time to get accustomed, but Salki pushed her forward.
> Up near the central firepit, the radiant warmth of the embers pierced her frozen skin and set her muscles ablaze. Mayor groaned in pain even as she began to shiver violently.
> "[Here. Lie down,]" Salki ordered as he lifted the fur blanket from his own bed.
> The mare tried to shake her head, remembering something vague about stink and unwashed bodies, but the warmth in the tent was starting to dissolve her very mind and she let herself be led there. Salki pushed on her rump and her hind legs folded beneath her.
"Oh. Okay, I'll just rest for a minute. Then I'll go finish your laundry, Salki."
> He seemed to understand, judging by his nod. "Yes, rest," he said. "[I'll cover you up.]"
> A heavy shroud fell around her withers and Mayor nearly started in fright before she recognized Salki's blanket. He pushed her shoulders and she flopped down on her belly. The warm embrace of his earthly scent was comforting. Strange how she had thought it smelled bad before.
> The nomad sat down beside her and put his incredibly warm hand on her muzzle. "[Idiot pony,]" he chided gently. "[You have fur, but you still get cold. Remember how ill you became when Mother made you sleep outside?]"
> Mayor blinked at him dumbly. She didn't understand his words. She should have known them, but the meaning slithered away in her mind.
"Wha-?"
> "[Hush. I'll put wood on the fire. Stay here.]"
> His warm presence left and Mayor mewled in protest, but then she realized she was still wrapped up in the heavy animal skin blanket and she calmed.
> She was shivering violently and her hooves felt like slabs of ice, but her core was getting warmer and now she was so incredibly sleepy. She laid her head down on the cot and closed her eyes.
> There would be time to figure this strangeness out after she got some rest.

> ~~~~

> Mayor Mare drifted somewhere in that warm, comfortable place between sleep and wakefulness. Soon she would have to get up and take on another gruelling, dismal day with the nomad tribe, but for a few more moments she could rest and pretend everything was going to be okay.
> Some mornings she almost believed the lie that her captivity had just been a bizarre nightmare and the dream was the reality. This time she wavered between Ponyville and some official function in Canterlot. Those had been boring and tiring, but now she would welcome something so mundane.
"Mmmhm, d'you know what I really miss?"
> A familiar voice, right by her ear, spoke up: "What you say?"
> She recognized both Salki and the reason why her back was so warm.
"You know what I miss? From Ponyville- no, actually from Canterlot. Ponyville doesn't have the right kind of streets."
> There was a moment of silence, then Salki's hand brushed her muzzle. His fingers stank of meat, but Mayor had gotten accustomed to that particular scent and didn't mind it as much.
> "What?" Salki asked. He most likely didn't understand her, but Mayor still wanted to say it, if only for her own benefit.
"I miss the clop of hooves on pavement. There's something... industrious about a pony walking with a bounce in her step on the Canterlot streets."
> After a few moments of silence Mayor opened her eyes and wiggled so she was lying on her back. Salki had a faintly puzzled look on his face. "Sorry, no understand."
"I know. It's not important," she told him. "Uh, [no important.]"
> The events of the previous day flooded into Mayor's memory at the same time as she realized that she was lying in Salki's cot.
"Oh. [I wash clothes. Cold. Why your bed? Why not wake me?]"
> The young nomad gave her a brilliant smile and put his hand on her barrel. "[You're warm. Nights are cold. That's why.]"
> It took Mayor some time to decide exactly how she felt about that. Was Salki trying to do something more, or was warmth all there was to it? Was she angry that he'd slept in the same bed?
> She thought back to when she and Rainy Day would often cuddle under the blankets, and those few times Intor's daughter, Gol, slept with them. There had been nothing romantic about it. Then again, Gol had been female, Salki was male.
> Still, she didn't want to deal with that particular nest of vipers anytime soon, so Mayor shrugged away from the young nomad and slipped out of the bed.
> The air in the tent was chilly, but some lingering warmth from the firepit remained and her fur did the rest.
> She thought Salki looked disappointed when she left, so she tried to fill the air with talking to take both their minds off their complicated relationship.
"[I will cook today. Stew. I bring more water.]"
> This news seemed to surprise the young man. "[Huh? I thought you were going with Xuan and the women.]"
> It took Mayor a second or two to remember.
"[Oh! Yes. We go gather yams and roots.]"
> She had almost forgotten it was that day. Was it already too late? The tent hole in the middle only showed a patch of gray sky, so Mayor went to the flap and pushed her head out.
> The sun was a faint outline through the clouds, but it was barely above the horizon and the mare relaxed a bit. She had a few minutes before the women would be expecting her.
> She saw her water pots and the pole where she had left them outside. Salki's clothes were gone and she guessed either he or his mother had picked them up. If it were Darga, she was liable to give Mayor an earful about leaving the things outside.
> Her ears splayed even at the imagined tongue-lashing. The woman could tan hides just by yelling at them. It was no wonder she had managed to cling to the chieftain's mantle after her husband had died.
> It was another chilly day, so Mayor pulled her head back into the tent. Salki was still in his cot and was watching her curiously.
"[I take cloak. Bring yams and tubers. Make stew later,]" she explained.
> The young nomad just shrugged, accepting her decision without any fuss. He kept his eyes on the mare as she rummaged around the tent until she found her animal fur cloak.
> Odd, she thought as she held it in her hooves for a reflective moment, how she was not in the least bit disgusted by the thing. It was the skin of another creature worked into a piece of clothing with some thread sown into the neck area. That way she could tie it around her withers to keep it from blowing away in a wind.
> It would keep her warm in the brutal nomad winter, even if it stank with a variation of what Mayor had come to call the 'stale meat stench'. Despite that, it didn't rot.
> She didn't know the exact process the nomads used to achieve that, but it seemed to work well. The skins reeked after it, but she was forced to admit that a bad small couldn't kill her, while a sudden blizzard away from the camp could.
> Mayor pushed the thought aside and slipped the garment on. The knot gave her some issues, but it always did. Even for a pony she wasn't good with rope.
> "[Here. Come here,]" Salki said and beckoned with a hand.
> Mayor gratefully walked over and sat on her haunches at the side of his cot. Salki laid on his back to free both arms and reached up for the strings of her coat. He tugged them closed, then paused. "[Too tight?]"
"[It is okay.]"
> Only after her confirmation did he finish tying the knot with sure, strong fingers. Mayor knew from experience that it wouldn't come undone, not until she tugged at the loose bit of string he always left for her.
> He was good with knots and Mayor was proud of him for that. He had been the one who tied her water pots to the pole and they had not once come undone.
"[Thanks!]"
> As a finishing touch he gave her muzzle a quick pat. "[It looks good on you.]"
> That was a definitive compliment and the mare froze for a moment. Did it mean Salki liked her, perhaps more than one would a friend?
> Mayor wondered whether she should say something else, then decided against it. She could sit Salki down later that evening, when they ate her stew, and carefully explore the topic of their relationship.
> She left the tent before the moment could turn even more awkward. Once outside, she remembered what she had forgotten and went back inside with her ears flattened.
"[Forgot bag,]" she murmured without looking at Salki.
> Perhaps he was amused at how flustered she had gotten from a simple compliment? Mayor imagined that he was probably laughing silently to himself. The mental image made her blush, which would just make Salki laugh harder in her imagination.
> She found an empty bag and a piece of rope, both of which she slung quickly over her back and made her escape.
> Once outside she paused, closed her eyes, and took a deep, calming breath.
> Did she even find nomads attractive, physically? Most of them were weird, hairless and oddly-proportioned. She still didn't know how they could balance on their hind legs all the time.
> Their culture was at the same time depressing, gruesome, scary and inspiring, the last when she considered their world and how difficult survival was for them.
> It would have to wait, Mayor decided firmly. Today was likely her last chance at finding some edible vegetables until spring, so she had to make the most of it.
> At least now that she was attached to the chieftain's household the other nomads wouldn't try to steal the food she gathered. She'd have to share a bit with Salki and Darga, of course, but most of it she could keep in a sack by her cot and supplement the tasteless grass of her diet.
> Luckily there was no significant wind, which would blow her empty sack away and Mayor was able to step lively to the center of the camp. The women would gather there before they left and one of them could help Mayor tie the sack down.

> ~~~~

> Xuan was already waiting, which was a welcome sight. Mayor's tentative friendship with Buygra had extended to his special somenomad. Not all the women of the camp liked Mayor Mare, even though the mare often couldn't figure out exactly why.
> Some of it probably had to do with Intor and Willow, who had caused some stir when Darga had proclaimed that Mayor now belonged to her and Salki, and for others the best guess was that Mayor was something foreign.
> The nomads disliked and distrusted foreigners. The traders were barely tolerated because they brought essential goods, but from what little she had gotten out of Salki and Buygra, almost everyone else was usually killed on sight.
> That sort of mindset was pretty much the opposite of how ponies viewed others and perhaps rumour of that had gone around, which made some of the people extra distrustful of Mayor Mare.
> Maybe they feared she was going to corrupt their chieftain or her son with her soft pony ways?
> Dislike or not, they tolerated her presence and readily allowed Mayor to carry their full bags back to the camp. That was good enough. She needed the women to show her where to forage for food and she paid for that information with some light work.
> The arrangement worked but having a friendly face with her did help.
"[Hi, Xuan!]" Mayor trilled as she walked up to the young woman.
> The nomad girl smiled widely and leaned down to give the mare a quick hug. "[Good morning!]"
"[Help me, tie sack please?]"
> Xuan picked up the rope and was about to loop it under Mayor's back, but paused. Instead she took the sack and stuffed both items into a pack she wore on her side under her arm.
> "[I'll take the bags on the way out and you take them on the way back?]" she offered.
> Mayor stuck out her tongue in mock annoyance.
"[No fair! Bag heavy on the way back!]"
> Xuan giggled at the joke and Mayor joined her after a moment.
"[Deal.]"
> They stood in silence for a moment as they waited for the others to show up. A few nomad women were already around, but not nearly enough. From Mayor's past experience she knew approximately who would join them, some only by face and others by name.
> She stretched out her hind legs, one at a time, then yawned the last vestiges of sleep away.
> "[Buygra said he will sleep with a spear instead of me. He said you told him this,]" Xuan suddenly spoke, chatting to pass the time.
"[Huh? No, did not say that.]"
> The young woman looked confused, then repeated: "[No, he said Mayor Mare told him to sleep with his spear. Safer.]"
> That reminded Mayor about the joke she had shared with Xuan's young man the previous day.
"[Oh! Yes. Buygra said you and him tent together. I said Xuan father very fierce, Buygra keep spear near his hand when sleep.]"
> That cleared things up and Xuan laughed heartily. "[I understand! Yes. Buygra is a good boy, but not too clever sometimes. I knew he didn't remember it right.]"
> Mayor chuckled too, wondering just what kind of a strange idea Buygra had left with the other day.
"[It same in Equestria. Colts not too bright, mares have to do all the thinking.]"
> "[I'm not worried. I'll train him soon enough.]"
> Some jokes, it seemed to Mayor, translated nicely even across their cultures.
"[Buygra said you find tent together soon?]"
> That question was the more interesting one and despite her situation Mayor didn't mind an occasional bit of gossip. She didn't have that many friends to share it with, but it helped her feel normal.
> Xuan leaned down and lowered her voice. "[Do not tell my parents, but yes. Soon...]" she replied, then put a hand over her belly. Mayor was confused for an instant and then understanding made her gasp a little.
"[Oh! You and Buygra-]"
> The young woman's hand clamped over her muzzle to keep her from blurting it out. Xuan looked around to see if any of the other women had heard, then waggled a finger at Mayor Mare. "[Don't tell anyone! Only me and Buygra know. I don't know how to tell Mother and Father.]"
"[Sorry. I won't tell,]" Mayor promised. She continued in a near whisper: "[When you... uh, when time? How long you know?]"
> Once again Xuan glanced around to make sure they had some privacy. "[I think autumn. It is six weeks since my last bleeding.]"
> Mayor Mare didn't know how she had that knowledge, but she knew from somewhere that nomad pregnancies lasted nine months, rather than the eleven mares went through. She inclined her head to Xuan.
"[Autumn is nice. Congratulations.]"
> Despite the predicament this likely put both Xuan and Buygra in, the girl smiled back. "[Thanks.]"
"[Please tell me if - um... I help. Okay? I can help. Please ask.]"
> That earned her a grateful nod and another quick hug which left Mayor feeling even more conflicted.
> Yes, the people were merciless and their way of life brutal, but Mayor couldn't hate them, at least not all of them. Xuan hunted and butchered and ate meat, just like Salki and Buygra, and Gol for that matter, but they weren't *bad* people. It was all very confusing.
> Despite that, she meant her offer of help. Like them or not, Mayor was stuck with this tribe and she needed friends and allies.
> "[Looks like we're ready to go,]" Xuan said and straightened up. "[I don't think we will find much, but you can have mine.]"
> On the one hoof the offer made Mayor uneasy, especially since she knew about Xuan's pregnancy, but on the other her very life might depend on these vegetables they found. The nomads seemed perfectly able to live on meat and donkey milk.
"[Thank you.]"
> Maybe there would be enough for them both, Mayor thought. If not, maybe they could cook together and share a little. With luck there would be another trading caravan soon.
> The group set off and Mayor took her place next to Xuan at the back of the line. They'd have to guard their tongues, but they could chat about other, unimportant things on the way and that would make the trip seem shorter.

> ~~~~

> The haul was meager and further diminished by the old nomad woman's insistence that they leave some of the yams in the ground as seed for the next year. Watching that had made Mayor Mare extra hungry, but she understood why it had to be done, so she left some of them alone.
> One or two she had eaten outright, unable to stand the empty hole in her belly, but most of what they had found was now in the various sacks on her back.
> It was better than the nothing she had been fearing, but it was less than she had been hoping. She would cook it in one of those strange, leather pots the nomads used and perhaps it would make for a couple of meals.
> She still had some of the beer left, but that left her with no real food for the rest of the winter.
> However unsavoury it felt, she would have to ask Darga and Salki for help. Mayor didn't like the thought about being even more indebted to the two nomads, but it would be better than starving.
> Maybe she should have had a bit more optimism, Mayor thought to herself, but she was sore and tired, and her legs were numb from the cold. She couldn't lift herself out of the bleak mood as they plodded back to the camp.
> Perhaps when she sat at the fire with a belly full of hot stew she would feel better, but for the moment the mare was disheartened. Even Xuan had caught her despair and didn't even try to talk to Mayor on the way back.
> Mayor was walking with her head bowed, only paying enough attention to stay in the furrow made by the women in front. She suddenly became aware of excited chatter coming from that direction and she lifted her head.
> They were nearly at the camp and some of the older children had run to meet their mothers. There was obviously some exciting news and Mayor looked up at Xuan, who was paying close attention.
"[What happening?]"
> The nomad girl glanced down for a moment but quickly returned her gaze to the excitement up ahead. "[They caught... ]" Xuan murmured. "[The hunters, they...]"
> Unfortunately Mayor Mare didn't recognize the words.
"[Caught what? Animal? Big animal? Wolf?]"
> It must have been something significant, judging from the outright gleeful expressions on the faces Mayor was able to glimpse. Whatever it was, it apparently meant great riches, or at least a lot of food.
> None if it would benefit her, of course, since she couldn't eat meat, but perhaps the abundance would allow her to buy more vegetables from the nomads. Perhaps it wasn't all bad.
> The women in the group jabbered excitedly and a few of them called for Mayor to walk faster before hurrying into the camp. Xuan also wanted to go see, but held herself back to stay with the mare.
> A large fire was burning and Mayor edged her way closer to it. Only then did she look around for this great 'catch'.
> She saw that the nomads were milling around something wooden.
> A wagon! A trading wagon!
> Her heart skipped a beat and Mayor thought about Rainy Day. Maybe they were the same traders who had taken her friend away! Maybe she was still with them and Mayor could get her back!
> She ignored the angry shouts of the women who were trying to get their bags of yams and roots and simply walked off. She had to push some of the nomads away to get close enough.
> Horses!
> The sight made Mayor stop in her tracks. It wasn't the traders she knew, who exclusively used donkeys, just like the nomads in her camp. These were new. The creatures were tall and robust, and for a moment Mayor was elated to see equine creatures.
> Unfortunately she quickly saw that the horses were dumb, just like the donkeys. They were little more than beasts.
> Something strange was happening, though. The two mares were trembling in fear and shuffling their hooves. Every now and then they whinnied or nickered as they shied away from a nomad's grabbing hand.
> Several camp members were examining the creatures, while others were apparently swarming over the wagons. Willow was prominent as he stood on one of the large wheels, laughing and handing out items.
> Mayor saw that someone else was inside and was passing things through the window to Willow, who was giving them to whomever was nearest. Nomads who had gotten something clutched it to their chests and hurried away.
> Small boxes, bags, water skins, pieces of cloth.
> It didn't look like any kind of trade Mayor had ever seen before.
> She jumped a little when a hand landed on her withers, but it was only Xuan. The young woman was staring eagerly at the action, but she couldn't go yet. "[Come back. The women want their yams. You just walked off!]"
"[Sorry. I want to see.]"
> Xuan patted her and pointed in a direction. "[Go. Give them their yams then come back. I'll grab something for you.]"
> Mayor didn't understand, but Xuan was right. She should not have simply walked off with the women's haul. If they stopped trusting her, they might no longer take her with them when they went foraging.
> She made her way back to the group of women and waited patiently as they untied their sacks, all the while grumbling about how she was making them late for whatever was happening.
> They used a specific word - 'olz'. It sounded almost like 'ols' - 'rope', but it was not it. When Mayor tried to ask them about it, they ignored the mare and just hurried off with their bags.
> The mare wished she would find Salki. He would be able to understand what was going on and how to explain it to her.
> Soon there was only her own and Xuan's bag left and Mayor pushed her way to the wagon once more.
> She froze to the spot when she saw some of the young hunters lead off two people tied with ropes. A young boy and a girl, both looked stunned and the boy had a large bruise on his face.
"[What? What is happening?]" Mayor asked loudly.
> No one near her deigned to answer as the nomads jeered at the sight. She had a very bad feeling about what she was seeing.
> Mayor hurried to where she had last seen Xuan and soon found the woman, who was clutching a couple of small jars. She grinned proudly when she saw the mare. "[Here! Salt and spice. Which one do you want?]"
> The smells were unmistakable. What Xuan called 'spice' was in fact pepper, apparently already ground.
"[Xuan, what is this? Why you take things? Who are boy and girl?]"
> The word sent fresh chills down Mayor's spine. She knew the word, all too well, because it applied to her. "[Captives. Slaves,]" Xuan explained calmly, as if she were discussing the weather.
"[Slaves?! Why?]" she asked, horrified. "[Traders! No slaves traders!]"
> Salki had been very adamant about that point. Traders were inviolate. No nomad would harm one of the traders, because word would get around and they might refuse to come into their land.
> Xuan shrugged. "[They aren't our traders. They don't speak our language.]"
"What?! That doesn't give you the right to attack and imprison them!"
> In her shock Mayor had slipped back into Equestrian, but all that did was earn her a confused glance from Xuan. She spread her arms, still holding the two jars in her hands. "[They aren't our traders. They're foreigners.]"
> Mayor hung her head in defeat. It had already happened and she certainly couldn't change the nomads' minds. They had enslaved her and Rainy Day, after all, why should she be surprised they would do it to their own kind as well?
> "[You want spice or not?]"
> Mayor looked up. The salt would go a long way to supplement her diet. She had learned she needed a lot more of it than the nomads. With that, she would surely survive the winter, even if she found nothing but grass until spring.
> It was a highly valued good. She knew for a fact that some nomads had bits of salt here and there, but she hadn't been able to trade for more than a pinch at a time. A jar that size would keep until summer, at the least, and she could trade some of it for vegetables.
> That small, clay container could very well be the difference between her survival or death in the coming months.
> She looked at the wagon as she thought about it. The deed had already been done. Not by her, and she would never condone it. She had had no way of preventing it. Could she take the plunder?
> Mayor saw that Willow's spear, held in a holder on his back, was tipped with red. The two slaves were children and she quickly guessed what had happened to their parents, or any other grownups in the group. From the size of the wagon she judged it was a single family, travelling across this dangerous land.
> Most of them were dead. She couldn't guess what would happen to the children. She hadn't seen nomad slaves before, so all she had to go on was herself and Rainy Day.
> It didn't bode well.
> Maybe she could use her pull with Salki and Darga to make sure the youngsters were treated well. At the very least, that they weren't killed outright.
> Her gaze went back to the pot Xuan was holding before her muzzle.
"[The salt, please.]" she said in a low, broken voice.
> Survival first. She could square it away with her conscience later.

> ~~~~

> True to her word, Mayor Mare had made a stew from her new vegetables which she liberally salted. In fact, she made two separate stews, one of them light on vegetables and with meat in it.
> It turned out to be more of a meat-based soup, but Salki seemed to like it a lot. Her own was a proper stew, which was a good way to stretch her vegetables with water and warm her belly at the same time.
> She had her clay bowl grasped firmly in her forelegs, so that the heat radiated out through her entire upper body. It was a bit of extra weight to carry, but well worth it for the ease of eating.
> Salki could use fingers to scoop out morsels and didn't care if he spilled most of his meal down his chin, but Mayor still tried to keep to her Equestrian manners. Above all she had to remember that she was a pony.
> "[There will be more in the wagons. Potatoes, beans, grain,]" Salki commented with his mouth full.
"[Oh?]"
> Once again Mayor Mare was torn between decency and survival. The sight of the forlorn children being led away from the wagon kept coming back to haunt her.
"[Salki, what happen to children? Where people? Wagon people, what happen?]"
> He glanced at her, as if to gauge her reaction, then said quite blundly: "[Killed. They should have known before coming in our lands. Only traders who speak our language are allowed.]"
> The mare closed her eyes and lowered her head in a moment of silence for the people.
"[Is not right,]" she said sullenly. "[Why kill? Why no talk and- and tell 'go away'?]"
> The young man just shrugged. That was just how things were, it seemed.
"[What happen to children?]"
> He appeared thoughtful for a moment. "[I think they belong to Hisein.]"
> It took Mayor a few moments to remember the name, then her face fell. He was Willow's close friend and more than a match in casual cruelty. It was better than the two children becoming Willow's property, like herself and Rainy Day had done, but only just.
"[Why?]" she asked. "[Why not Willow?]"
> Salki looked at her in surprise. The answer was so obvious to him that he had trouble remembering that Mayor Mare was a foreigner and didn't grow up in his culture. "[Hisein saw the wagon first and killed the man with his spear. He had first choice.]"
"[What will happen to them now?]"
> Despite how horrified Mayor Mare felt about these casual atrocities, she wanted to know. It was like a bad tooth. She knew everything she learned would trouble her, creep into her nightmares, that it was all rotten to the core, but she simply couldn't leave it alone.
> "[They will learn our language. They will work and they will serve. If they don't...]" Salki didn't finish the thought, but Mayor understood perfectly well. If they resisted, they would simply be killed. Too much trouble to be worth keeping.
"[But- but Salki, they Nomads. The children Nomads! Serve- your own people?!]"
> She could almost understand that the nomads saw her and Rainy Day a animals, since they resembled their donkeys and horses and, presumably, ponies, if there were any on this world. Using them as livestock, to carry their burdens could perhaps make some kind of sense, but to enslave their own kind was simply too monstrous!
> Salki didn't seem to understand her bewilderment. "[So? Now they are slaves. If they obey, they will live. They will be fed.]"
> All she could do for a while was to open and close her mouth helplessly. She entertained a wild notion of helping the two captives escape, but quickly dismissed it. Where could they even go in the dismal, snow-covered landscape? How could they escape predators, or the nomad hunters who would surely go after them?
> Despite that, she had to try. As an equestrian citizen, she had to. More than that, as a pony there was no real choice.
"[Please, Salki. Take the children? Darga, Salki-]" she swallowed a lump, but forced the next word out: "[-owners? Take children Salki owner?]"
> At least with him she knew they wouldn't be killed. They would work, like she worked, but they wouldn't be treated unfairly, or with callous cruelty like Willow and his friends were liable to do.
> Salki appeared thoughtful for a moment, but then he shook his head. "[No. Mother said there was trouble when she took you. She can't do it again. Sorry.]"
> It felt like a blow.
"[Please, buy them? Cut my hair. Salt! I have salt! Beer. Buy them from Willow?]"
> "[Hisein,]" Salki corrected, then shrugged. "[Not enough. Maybe enough for the boy, but he is young and looks strong. Not enough for the girl.]"
> Mayor leaned her head to one side in confusion.
"[Why enough for boy but not enough for...]"
> Her words trailed off as realization dawned. Her ears went flat and her stomach lurched at the merest hint of the idea.
"[No...]"
> Salki looked uncomfortable for the first time during that whole exchange and normally that would have given Mayor Mare a sliver of hope that he might do something. Not this time. It took all her effort of will not to imagine.
> She shot to her hooves and took a shaky step back. Her clay bowl clattered on the ground and spilled its contents. She paid it no mind.
> "[Where are you going?]" Salki asked.
> Mayor didn't answer him. Tears blurred her sight and she spun around. The tent flap was in front of her and she pushed out into the crystal cold night air.
> Monsters. The thought forced its way into her mind. That was all they were. Not only Willow and Hisein for doing this, but all the nomads for allowing it.
> There was no longer a choice about the whole thing. She had to do something. She had to free the children and take them somewhere.
> Maybe they'd find their way to Equestria, or maybe they'd find some other people in this vast, frozen land.
> Deep down Mayor knew both of those were almost impossible, but even if they died in the snow, it would be a more merciful fate, surely.
> Salki called out after her, but she paid him no mind as she headed off into the darkness. She didn't have any provisions, not even a cloak, but she didn't want to go back and face Salki for long enough to take them.
> He would instantly know what she was going to do and he would stop her.
> She headed in the general direction she remembred seeing Willow and Intor a few times, on the grounds that his lackeys would place their tents nearby. It was a bit annoying to have to keep mental track of where everyone was after each migration, but the nomads themselves seemed to find their way with enviable ease.
> After some searching Mayor was pretty sure she was in the right place. She saw Gol, sitting at one of the fires, which made that tent definitely Willow and Intor's. All she had to do now was to search the surrounding camps until she saw either Hisein or the captives.
> It was pure luck that the day was nearly over and shadows began to stretch between the tents. Most of the nomads wouldn't comment on Mayor Mare walking around the camp and would simply assume she was on an errand for either Darga or Salki, but these people, with whom Mayor had past, would be sure to note her presence.
> Who knew, maybe Willow would even take the opportunity for some revenge, consequences be damned.
> The mare kept herself to shadows and did her best to control her breathing. She was beginning to shiver in the cold and had to fight off serious second thoughts. No one had noticed her, she could still go back to Salki and tell him she had simply needed a walk.
> She could rescue the captives the next day. She would prepare better, gather what food she could find, clothes, water skins. She could carry quite a lot. Maybe she and the children could even get one of their horses. It would make their search a lot easier and faster.
> The idea was still stupid, but less so than what Mayor was doing right now. No plan, no food, no water, no warm clothes.
> At the very least she would find where they were being kept, Mayor decided. She would look in on them and make sure they were okay. Then she would go back.
> It felt like a defeat, but the cold stabbing past her fur was more powerful. She tried not to think about her betrayal of Rainy Day.
> The camp was growing quieter, so Mayor Mare held her breath and listened. She knew that her pony ears were far better than a nomad's.
> There!
> Faint whimpering, definitely a child!
> It wasn't very far away; Mayor's guess had been good. She kept to the shadows and swiveled her ears around for approaching footsteps as she made her way to the tent.
> There was no one outside and the fire pit looked dead. A quick glance showed a stream of smoke, black against the darkening sky and Mayor felt a tiny bit better. At least the children were warm inside the tent.
> She stayed near the back and listened for the noises inside. She couldn't be sure whether the captives were alone.
> Hisein lived alone, she remembered. He had made his own tent with a young wife, Salki had told her, and they had moved out of their parents' tents, but the girl had died in childbirth. Both she and the baby. Hisein had lived alone ever since.
> Mayor Mare guessed she would be more sad about the story if the nomad wasn't such a good friend of Willow's.
> There! She caught a faint snore from the tent. It meant the hunter was inside and fast asleep. With luck she could take a look inside and make sure both captives were alive and unharmed. It was the best she could do for the moment.
> She crept around the side of the tent, placing her hooves carefully so the snow wouldn't shift or creak. Mayor also had to grind her teeth together to keep them from chattering.
> Luckily there was no one about in the frigid night and she came safely to the tent flap. That was the moment of truth. Mayor held her breath and nuzzled the flap aside so she could put her head in.
> The interior was dim and the only light was coming from the remnants of the fire in the middle. Mayor saw the outline of Hisein, covered by blankets and facing away from the center.
> That made her feel a little bolder and she pushed further into the tent. The children were easy to find because they were crying softly. Mayor couldn't see much, but the awkward way they were trying to huddle together told her their hands and feet were bound.
> She took another step, which only left her tail outside of the tent and she saw that the two youths had their wrists tied behind their backs. The girl was mostly covered by a skin and there was another such blanket on the ground next to the boy.
> He would take it when the temperature dropped. It might be a bit of a struggle to pull it over himself, but it could be done. Mayor didn't dare go in and help him.
> The sight of her might cause the children to cry out, which would wake Hisein. She would have to find a way to get to them when they were alone.
> She couldn't see their faces, but they didn't look seriously hurt, just frightened and sad. Mayor's heart went out to them, but she didn't dare to try and comfort them with the hunter only hoofsteps away.
"I'll get you out of this, promise," she mouthed the words soundlessly to herself.
> That was about the best she could do without a better plan. Mayor was about to back out of the tent when someone grabbed her tail and yanked her forcefully out.
"Eeek!"
> "[What the fuck are *you* doing here?!]" roared Willow's voice.
> There was instant pandemonium in the tent as both captives began to wail and clamor in fear, and Hisein jumped out of his cot with a shout.
> Mayor scrabbled on the frozen ground with her hooves, but the painful grip on her tail was unrelenting and dragged her back. Willow held it in his fist and she saw, with some relief, that he didn't have a weapon.
> In desperation she kicked at his legs and her hoof glanced off his shin. The vice-grip on her tail loosened for just a moment, but it was enough for Mayor to get free.
> She stumbled and fell with her muzzle in the snow, which gave Willow the second her needed to throw himself on her.
> His arms went around her neck and Mayor bucked in urgent panic to get the nomad off. She missed, but the sudden jump made Willow almost slide off and he landed on his side with a grunt.
> Mayor wiggled around to escape his grasp before Hisein could find his feet and come to help. She panted with the effort, but didn't waste any of her breath on screaming. This part of the camp was mostly unfriendly to her and they were likely to help the hunters rather than her.
> She heard Willow growling curses at her, but she didn't spend the effort to mentally translate them. Her hind hoof found his knee and she pushed with all her might. Nomad skin was slippery and they were wet from melting snow, so it slid off without doing any serious damage, but it made the young hunter grunt in pain and it pushed Mayor almost out of his grasp.
> Now he held her around her waist and Mayor twisted to her back. If she could get just one good kick at his face, Willow would be out of the fight. Permanently.
> She managed to turn around and brought her hoof to bear. All she had to do was kick with her earth pony strength.
> It would kill him. There was no doubt in Mayor's mind. She would shatter his face.
> She hesitated. She had never killed anyone before. It screamed against all her instincts as a pony, and against her upbringing in Equestria.
> The delay proved too long. Hisein had come out of the tent, saw what was happening and swiftly kicked Mayor right in the muzzle. Her head reeled from the blow and her vision swam.
> She tried to deliver on her kick, but the split second had been enough for Willow to get out of the way. His grip around her midriff tightened.
"No! No! Let me go!"
> Even if they could understand her, they wouldn't listen, but Mayor was beginning to panic. Hisein was grabbing for her head and she was barely able to fend him of with her forehooves. Meanwhile Willow was trying to wrestle her hind legs to the ground.
> A shout off to one side made all three of them pause for a moment. The voice was perhaps the sweetest thing Mayor had heard.
> Salki!
> Why or how he was there she didn't know, but he would save her.
"[Salki! Help! They hold me!]"
> He didn't pay her any mind and took a step closer. He had a spear in one hand and a stone axe in the other. With his inexperience and Willow and Hisein's raw strength it wasn't enough to ensure his victory, but the weapons gave the other two pause.
> More onlookers were gathering around, but all Mayor could see were shadows. She only knew Salki by his voice.
> "[Let her go. Now!]" he commanded.
> There was some reluctance, but Willow released Mayor's legs and she scrambled away from him. Hisein twitched, as if he wanted to grab her, but a small shake of Salki's spear dissuaded him of that notion.
> She scurried to stand beside her friend, ears flat and heart pounding in residual fear and adrenaline. She looked up, but couldn't quite see his expression in the darkness.
> He would be angry, she had no doubt, but at least he had come to help her. She would make it up to him.
> "[So, what now, momma's boy?]" Willow sneered.
> There was a pause as Salki thought. Even with her shaky grasp on camp politics, Mayor knew he couldn't use those weapons on the other two. Even threatening them would cause dissent between Darga Intor's factions.
> "[No one got hurt. Let's call it even and we'll leave,]" Salki proposed.
> At first it looked like Willow would argue, but Hisein put a hand on his shoulder and murmured something in his ear. At long last the hunter spat on the ground. "[Go. Run home like the pussy you are. You'll be hearing about this tomorrow!]"
> Salki's sigh was quiet enough so that nobody but Mayor Mare could possibly have heard it, but it made her hang her head a little. Willow was right. This would cause problems even if it went no further.
> "[Come on, let's go,]" Salki muttered to her and bent a little so he could grasp her mane. Mayor didn't resist as he dragged her back across the camp.

> ~~~~

> "[What were you thinking?!]" Salki shouted once they were safely back in the tent. "[Were you even thinking?]"
> Mayor Mare didn't say anything. She had been expecting anger and Salki had technically saved her skin. Who knew what Willow would have done if the fight had gone on any longer?
> "[Stupid. What was the goal there? Even if you could free the children, what would you do next?]"
> Her eyes slid down to her forehooves and Mayor mumbled something unintelligible.
> "[What was that?]"
"[Take them to Equestria.]"
> This was more of a plan than Salki had been expecting and he didn't have to know that she had just come up with it that minute. "[Do you even know which way?]"
> She didn't, but Mayor lifted up her head defiantly and gave a single nod anyway.
> "[What about wolves and other beasts?]" Salki insisted.
> This time all she could do was shrug. He was right in that she would have probably led those two youngsters to their deaths in the wild.
"[Better that. Better than- what will Hisein do. The girl,]" she pointed out.
> Salki let out his breath and sat down on his cot. He used one arm to prop himself upright and reached out his other to Mayor. He wanted to touch her, but she was not in the mood for that and jerked away.
> "[He won't,]" the young nomad said at last.
"[How you know?]"
> He shrugged and let his hand fall into his lap. "[He won't because the girl is worth more unspoiled.]"
> Mayor's muzzle scrunched up in distaste.
"[Worth more?]" she repeated.
> "[He will sell the girl when traders come. She is not our people, too soft to work.]"
"[And the boy?]"
> Salki didn't seem perturbed when he replied: "[He'll learn, or he'll die.]"
> Mayor let out a frustrated groan and turned away. She couldn't believe the nonchalance even Salki displayed at the idea of slavery, or trading with their own people.
"[How are you like this?]" she demanded. "[They are people, not animals!]"
> There was no reply and when she glanced back the nomad was looking at her with a blank expression. It was just a fact of life for him, but she didn't have the luxury of having grown up with their culture.
> Eventually Salki softened his voice and said: "[You ponies are too kind. That doesn't work here. We must be harsher than the winter. Ruthless like the wolves, or we will all die.]"
> There was a grain of truth in that, but Mayor was convinced there had to be a middle way. She wanted to talk to Salki, convince him, but her vocabulary was not quite up to the task just yet. Philosophy and ethics would have to wait a bit longer.
> Still, she couldn't just give up.
"[We must do something. Is not right! Maybe- buy the children?]"
> At this Salki barked a laugh. "[Buy them? With what?]"
> Mayor Mare thought about all the things she owned or could get her hooves on. Beside her mane, all she had was food or drink and she needed that to survive winter. Would she starve herself to death for a couple of nomad children?
> More than once she opened her mouth to say so, but each time she closed it. Already she was no stranger to hunger and dying of it would be an unbelievably horrible death.
> What might happen to the children was also horrible, but it wasn't certain. Not if she believed Salki. There was always a chance the traders would take good care of the girl and she would end up somewhere better.
> The boy- he would have to work hard, but it would probably be no worse a life than she could expect for herself. Better, perhaps, since he was at least the same species as his captors. In time he might earn his freedom.
> She didn't know them. Her life was not worth sacrificing for a maybe, not for people she didn't even know.
> Mayor sat down on her own cot and stared unblinkingly at her forehooves. She didn't look at Salki out of fear he was staring back at her with a knowing smirk on his face.
> It really was out of her hooves, the whole thing. She had absolutely no power, political or otherwise, among the nomads. Some of them tolerated her when she could be useful, perhaps a few liked her, but to the majority of them she was just a clever animal.
> She would have to work hard to change that perception.
> First, she had to prove that she was a thinking being.
"[I'm sorry,]" she said, words like ashes in her mouth.
> There was no reply, so she went on.
"[Sorry I gone. I know Hisein will be trouble. My fault Willow hates you now.]"
> Salki just gave a grunt in lieu of a reply. She finally glanced at him and his face appeared thoughtful. Then he shrugged to himself. "[Maybe, maybe not. Willow is not stupid, despite what you think. He wants to be chieftain someday.]"
"[What?!]"
> She had always put the hunter down as nothing more than a bully. She was about to say so, but then she closed her eyes as understanding dawned. It probably wasn't Willow's desire, at least not originally. More than likely it had been Intor who had put that idea into her son's mind.
> It was a lot easier to understand, especially now that Mayor had had both the chance and the vocabulary to listen to Darga's conversations with Salki. The political currents were easy to see for someone with a cutie mark like hers.
> Intor was sowing dissent and splintering the camp to prove that Darga was an ineffectual leader. As far as Mayor understood, women could not become leaders, except in the extremely unusual case of Darga herself, who had managed to retain the title after her husband's death.
> Perhaps that precedent had given Intor the idea she could do something similar herself, except through her son instead of a husband?
> It certainly helped that Willow was one of the best, and most regarded hunters of the camp.
"[You no train with Willow any more,]" she told Salki.
> He jerked in surprise, uncertain where this had come from. "[What? Why?!]"
> It was hard to explain and the primitive and brutal way these nomads engaged in what could loosely be called 'politics' was foreign to Mayor, but her instincts had been honed over many years in Ponyville.
"[He try to kill you. Soon, maybe. Like an accident. He kill you, but people think accident.]"
> Salki still didn't understand and spread his arms in a show of confusion. "[Why would he do that? You're not making sense.]"
"[Shut up and listen! Intor want chieftain, okay? Women no chieftain, but Darga chiftain because Salki father dead. Intor want the same. She want you dead, then Darga sad and step away!]"
> The young nomad was watching her with his mouth open in amazement. He kept shaking his head and starting to talk, but Mayor just plowed right through him.
"[Believe me! Back home, in Equestria, I was leader! I know how- how to be leader! Okay? Intor want chieftain so Willow will make accident.]"
> He didn't want to believe her and Mayor almost growled in frustration. She would have to take it to Darga and try to explain to her instead. The woman had led the camp for a long while and had managed to retain her tenuous position, so she would probably understand.
> "[Why are you saying all these things?]" Salki asked her, growing a bit angry at the accusations against Willow, whom he apparently still admired at least a little. "[You are just angry because Willow caught you stealing the children!]"
> Before she could say anything, however, the tent flap pulled aside and Darga strode in. One glance at her face was enough for Mayor to 'eep' quietly and hurry to hide behind Salki.
> He saw it too and put his arm around her withers, a gesture for which Mayor was immensely grateful.
> The chieftain stood up to her full height and stared at the pair. "[Want to explain what the ... pony was doing with Hisein's ...?]"
> Mayor didn't understand all the words there, but she was pretty sure a lot of them were swears.
> "[She just went to check what Hisein was doing with them. She wanted to make sure he was not ...,]" Salki replied as calmly as he could.
> Darga closed her eyes and took a deep, calming breath. Unfortunately it didn't work and she took a quick step forward. Her hand shot out and a resounding slap sounded. Salki yelped and put both hands on his face to protect it.
> "[Fucking idiot boy and his idiot pony!]" the woman roared. "[Now Intor is saying that ... beast attacked her son!]"
> Both Mayor and Salki gasped at that and looked at each other. Salki quickly argued: "[That's not true! Meyermer didn't-]"
> He didn't get to finish because Darga began shouting again. "[Didn't?! She didn't?! Do you want to go and look at Willow's bruises?]"
"[Bruises?!]" Mayor squeaked in shock.
> "[Yes! He has bruises on his legs and face! He says you kicked him in the head! That you attacked him!]"
> He was lying! Mayor distinctly remembered the opportunity to crush Willow's face, but she hadn't been able to bring herself to do it.
"[That not possible! I not kick his face!]"
> Darga leaned closer and her voice dropped to a growl: "[He has bruises and Hisein says you did it!]"
> They were both lying, but Mayor knew it was useless to argue. Even if the chieftain didn't completely like Willow, he was still probably one of her best hunters. Even aside from that, Intor was politically too strong for Darga to simply accuse her son of such a lie, at least not without solid proof.
> Unfortunately the word of a pony wouldn't be nearly enough. Salki could back her, but there were already uncomfortable rumours flying around the camp about the fact that he had no mate and spent so much of his time with Mayor.
> Salki didn't quite grasp the nuances yet, not even with this new information. He shot up to his feet. "[Those are lies!]" he insisted loudly. "[I saw it all! Meyermer was checking to make sure the children are alright and Willow attacked her!]"
> If Darga was taken aback by her son arguing with her, she didn't show it. "[You saw nothing! You're lucky Willow is not saying you attacked him too!]"
> "[Well, they're lying!]" Salki repeated and his fists bunched up. "[I'll go and teach that ... not to lie about Meyermer!]"
> He really would have stormed out but his mother grabbed him around the wrist. She was shorter than Salki, but there was wiry strength in the chieftain and he couldn't break free. "[Idiot!]" she repeated. "[What will you do? Start another fight? With half the camp on their side?!]"
> Salki subsided a little and his shoulders sagged. "[We can't just let them say that! Meyermer was doing nothing wrong!]"
> His mother replied in a quieter tone as well: "[That's what they're saying and that's what the people believe.]" She sighed and looked away. "[They are saying you're treating Meyermer like a pet.]"
> They were all silent while Salki returned to his cot and sat down beside Mayor again. "[What will we do?]" he asked quietly. He put his arm around Mayor again now that it seemed his mother wouldn't try and hit him anymore.
> Darga huffed and spun around to pace the tent. It wasn't far and after no more than two steps she had to turn back. "[I'm fucked if I know!]" she replied. "[They want me to give them the pony!]"
> "[No!]"
"[No, please!]"
> They both said at the same time and Mayor found her hooves wrapping around Salki almost of their own volition. Going back to Intor and Willow would mean punishment. Beatings, at the minimum.
> Maybe they wouldn't kill her, but only because she was worth something in trade, but her life would become decidedly uncomfortable.
> "[I don't have much choice,]" Darga said as she continued to pace to and fro. "[She's your pet but she's not pulling her weight! People are saying you are going soft like that fantasy she keeps telling! They're saying I'm soft too!]"
> Mayor Mare knew that accusations of softness were a serious matter among the nomads. If they didn't see Darga as a capable leader they would simply depose her. Salki had told her that would probably mean execution for her and him, but Mayor hadn't quite believed that.
> She was starting to believe it now.
> At long last it seemed that Darga had reached a decision. She pointed a finger at Mayor. "[You will work for Intor and Willow.]"
"[What?!]"
> Salki was about to yell too, but Darga roared over them both: "[SHUT UP!]" she shouted. "[I said work! We're not giving Meyermer to Intor. You'll work whatever job they give you for a month. No, two months. That way people will see you are not soft!]"
> Mayor Mare's heart sank. She would have to go back to the people who hated her most in this world.
"[They will beat me.]"
> "[Good,]" Darga said with an approving nod. "[That will show the people Salki isn't fucking a pony.]"
"[But-]"
> The implication gave Mayor pause. She hadn't even considered that the nomads might be thinking something like that. She looked at the young man from the corner of her eye and saw that he was just as red in the face as herself.
> She had wondered about it, hadn't she? Had Salki thought about something like that too?
> There was no more time to think. Darga crouched in front of Salki and Mayor. "[You still belong to me and Intor will know that. She can beat you, but no permanent damage. I will make her swear it.]"
> The mare swallowed a lump, but gave a tentative nod. Her ears could not go flatter and she knew her eyes must have been like pinpricks in her fear.
> She was a little relieved when the chieftain stood up and took a step to the tent flap. "[I have to go tell them my decision.]" She was gone before either Salki or Mayor could say anything more. They both let out a relieved breath.
> It could have gone a lot worse, Mayor realized. If Willow had faked an injury and claimed she had kicked him the nomads might decide she was dangerous and demand her to be put down.
> Still, she was grateful that Salki had his arm around her withers. "[Look on the bright side,]" he told her.
"[What bright side?!]"
> "[You will be close to watch the children are alright.]"
> That much of it was true, but it didn't bring her any consolation.

> ~~~~

> Late at night Mayor Mare was still lying on her cot, awake. She worried about what Willow and Intor would do to her and what kinds of work they would set her. She didn't mind the latter, not particularly, but she worried it would be especially dirty and gruelling.
> She envied the other two a little, both of whom seemed perfectly able to sleep. Salki had been a bit sad about her punishment, but had quickly shrugged it off. Mayor guessed that told her just how little he really emphasized with her.
> The attempt was useless. There couldn't be much more than a few hours of darkness left and Mayor made a snap decision to stop trying. She could find something else to do with her time and she would just have to deal with being tired and sleepy the next day.
> She sat up, stretched, then looked at the remnants of the fire. She could see the grease stain where Darga had cooked her and Salki's dinner. It had been meat and the smell of it still permeated the tent, but it still made Mayor think about food, which was making her hungry.
> Perhaps it was as good a time as any, she thought, and walked quietly over to the side of the tent.
> It wasn't the most brilliant of hiding spots, but Mayor knew Salki would never dig through his mother's things, and Darga had said it was okay.
> The beer, what was left of it, was in two large water skins. A barrel, such as the traders used would be far too conspicuous and Mayor had traded it early for a bit of grain.
> She dug out one of the skins and sat down so she could hold it steady between her hind legs while she worked to untie it. The effort took both her forehooves and teeth, but she managed eventually.
> Then she lifted the thing up.
> Nomad beer was bitter and didn't fizz, but it was a lot stronger than what she was used to in Equestria. It was still the nearest thing to grain she had, so it would give her a bit of strength before she had to start with Intor and Willow.
> She swallowed a few mouthfuls, then paused to let it settle. Too much at once would quickly make her sick.
> The strong smell of alcohol stung her nose when she breathed out, but Mayor paid it no mind. She raised the bag again and took another sip.
> She had to finish it before leaving, she told herself. Darga had hinted that Intor and Willow might want to keep Mayor in their tent while she served them, which meant that Salki might find her stash.
> It was best to drink it and gain whatever nutrition she could from it, rather than let the silly boy have it and just get drunk with no benefit.
> A small burp worked its way up her throat and brought with it the almost sour taste of old nomad beer. It was a lot better on the way down and she raised her water skin again to wash her mouth.
> The strange part was that it had no effect. After how much she had already drunk on a mostly empty stomach, Mayor had been expecting her head to start spinning or something. It should have happened.
> Maybe nomad alcohol lost its potency if left for a while?
> She brought the skin back up to her lips and poured a little more into her mouth. It wasn't as foul as before, she thought. Maybe it was an acquired taste? She swallowed a few more times from the bag, but had to pause to burp again. Drinking from water skins meant she swallowed an awful lot of air along with any liquid.
> There wasn't much left, but she felt pretty full so Mayor lowered the bag back down in her lap. She remembered just in time to hold the opening, otherwise it would have spilled all over her legs.
> At least the buzz she was starting to feel took the edge off her misery. She thought briefly at the tragic fate of those nomad children Willow had captured, but it wasn't quite as sad.
> Even the prospect of her having to work for Intor didn't sound as bad as before. She was okay with work and this way she would be near the woman and could keep her eye on her.
> If Intor really was planning a coup or something maybe Mayor Mare could find proof of it and bring it to Darga. Then she'd prove her worth, yes!
> After that the chieftain would believe her word and let her teach her son! Salki, with an Equestrian education, or as much of it as she could give him, would become a wise and powerful ruler. Maybe he could even found a city or something.
> That was it, Mayor thought to herself! A plan!
> She couldn't go back to civilization, not without the nomads' help, but she could bring civilization to them! Surely once they learned about houses they'd give up their tent-based lifestyle.
> Mayor Mare was no construction pony, but she could probably find her way to building a basic wooden cottage. Then she would teach them about hot water, and baths, and food other than meat.
> She was an earth pony and that meant, despite her cutie mark, she could plant and grow food. She would bring agriculture to them! If the nomads didn't have to keep moving around after their prey animals maybe they would stop being so brutal!
> Mayor wasn't wholly aware that she had lifted the skin with beer again, but she suddenly realized it was empty and she was trying to suck out the last few dregs.
> The world was a more pleasant place, even if the tent was swimming gently around her. It was a good feeling and she wanted it to last.
> She reached for her other bag and began untying the neck. The knot was a lot tighter than the last one, but she persevered until it was done. In her hurry she had torn the water skin a little, but that just meant she could get at the beer faster.
> Maybe the other one had been bad or something, Mayor thought as she swallowed, because this one tasted markedly better.
> The evening had been awful, but at least she was getting a good meal out of the night. It would leave her entirely without any kind of food, liquid or not, but that was okay. Mayor would think of something. She always did.
> Maybe the traders would come back soon and she'd be able to sell more of her mane. The pink color, it seemed, was very popular with these people.
> She shivered at the sudden cold and realized that the embers had died out. Her cot called to her, but there was still beer left.
> Mayor considered taking the skin with her, but she understood in a dim way that she would spill it all over herself.
> Best to finish it quickly and then get back in bed.
> The cot would have gone cold by now.
> Her eyes landed on Salki and she smiled to herself. He was warm enough and he didn't mind sharing.
> It sounded like a plan. She'd drink the rest of her beer - it was more like liquid grain, really - to shore up her strength for the hard work next morning.
> Mayor blinked a few times in confusion as she tried to recall exactly what she had to do the next day. She knew something about work, but not what the task was.
> She shook her head, but stopped when the spinning tent made her stomach feel weird. She would figure it out tomorrow, or someone would tell her.
> For the moment she had to finish her drink and then get in Salki's bed. She would table the turns on him this time! A small revenge for the previous night!
> That last thought made her giggle a little in excitement, but she suppressed it so she wouldn't wake him.
> Maybe nomads had *some* use as bed- warm- warm-bedders, at least!
> The skin slid from her hooves, but that was okay since it was almost empty. She could probably get another mouthful out of it in the morning to help her wake up.
> It took her a few attempts to get all four hooves under her and even then Mayor Mare wasn't too steady.
> She was suddenly full of energy and didn't really feel like sleeping, but she was still cold so a nice cuddle would be welcome.
> An awkwardly placed hoof nearly made her tumble into the- into the-
> Hot place. She felt the heat radiating from it, even if there were no more glowy things. It would be bad to fall on that, she knew, but she didn't, so that was fine.
> Her target was right in front of her. Salki was bundled up in a bunch of blankets. Skins. Blanket skins.
> How do you skin a blanket?
> The mare shrugged to herself and lowered her head to lift the edge. The young nomad shivered and turned away from the cold, but she quickly slid in to fill the gap.
> Tried, to, at least. She had forgotten which leg to use, so Mayor stumbled and landed on her side. The thump and her 'oof' woke Salki up.
> "[What? Who is it? What- Meyermer?]"
> She twirled in place to try and get the blanket completely over her, then pushed with her hooves to slide back against Salki.
> "[What are you doing?]"
"[Sssshhhh!]" she drawled. "[Cold... Warm.]"
> Perhaps he understood, but even if he didn't the poor nomad had no choice. She wrapped her legs around his arm, which made Salki hiss at how cold her hooves and fur was.
> That was good! He should know just how chilly Mayor was and warm her up! She rubbed her muzzle against his chest, which made Salki gasp and push her away with the palm of his hand.
> Mayor took no notice and just gave his hand a good lick.
"[Pleaaase, warm!]"
> Her begging worked and Salki sighed. He grumbled something to himself, but stopped trying to dislodge her. As thanks she reached out with her head and have his face a grateful nuzzle.
> "[Are you- how are you drunk?!]" he asked, bewildered. "[Where did you get beer?]"
"[s' gone!]" she replied triumphantly. "[I et it all!]"
> Salki was quiet for a while, but his hand found her muzzle and reached further until he could play with her ear. Mayor closed her eyes and pushed against that delightful scratching.
> "[Okay, okay. Stupid pony. You can sleep in my bed.]"
> It was music to her ears and she quickly rolled on her back. She clumsily gripped his hand between her forehooves and pushed it down to her belly.
"[Scratch!]"
> After a moment Salki obeyed and his fingers began to play with her soft fur down there.
"[Good.]"
> "[Go to sleep. You're drunk.]"
"[Okay.]"

> ~~~~

> For Mayor Mare waking up was a mixture of pain and comfort. Her belly felt like a cold bag of acid and her brain was pounding as if Big Mac himself was dancing a jig on her head, but the rest of her was quite comfortable.
> Mostly she felt warm. That had been such a rare thing so far in this nomad winter that when a cold draft ruffled the fur on her muzzle, she grunted and pressed her face more tightly against the warm surface.
> Sleep was out of the question, but if she kept her eyes closed and her limbs perfectly still the pain in her head was slightly less. In a few more minutes she would need to go outside and pee, but for the moment she could still put it off.
> "[Why is the pony in your bed?]" the question came in a harsh, woman's voice.
> Mayor was determined to ignore it, at least for a while longer, but the surface she was resting on rose and fell as Salki sighed. She heard his voice boom and echo through his ribs and realized she had her ear pressed right against his chest.
> "[I don't know, she got drunk last night or something. I don't even know where she got the beer.]"
> Rather than replying, Darga just grunted and looked around. There was a wet thwack and she complained: "[She tore the skin up. Damn. See if Darkhan can mend it.]"
> Perhaps Mayor could have ignored the conversation a bit longer, but Salki lifted his arm and put his hand on her muzzle. It was probably an unintentional gesture to reassure her, or gently wake her up, but it blocked her nose.
> She jerked her head up, gasped for air and made the mistake of opening her eyes.
"Ow! Ow ow ow! Buck- bucking- ow!"
> The headache was like a wooden splinter right through her brain.
> Her swearing was in a tongue the other two couldn't really understand, but pained mewling was probably a universal language.
> "[Get up,]" Darga said, again in that shrill, grating voice of hers, "[Intor is waiting for you. Move it!]"
> Mayor focused her pleading gaze on Salki, but he just shrugged a little. There was no help there. He obeyed his mother in most things, mainly because she was still strong and fast enough to grab him and give him a well-deserved smacking if he crossed her.
> Nomads had a very physical child upbringing, it seemed.
> If she dallied any longer Darga would grow impatient and pull her up by her mane. That wasn't something Mayor was prepared to experience, so she slid off Salki with a low groan. He clutched at the blanket and pulled it back, and Mayor was exposed to the cold air.
> Maybe it helped a little with her head, but the movement was making her sick.
"Buck. [Wait- I need to- urk!]"
> She rushed for the tent entrance and luckily Darga was quick enough to pull the flap open. Mayor managed a few steps to the side, then her stomach turned a somersault and she spilled a foul mixture of bile and what was left of stale beer.
> All her insides twisted and the heaving was making her headache worse, but there was no stopping it until she was completely empty.
> Before her was a patch of brown and yellow stained snow, already melting a little.
> She needed to wash the horrible taste from her tongue, but there was no water in sight. Out of sheer desperation Mayor took a bit of clean-looking snow in her mouth and chewed it while she waited for the wave of dizziness to pass.
> There was still the matter of her bladder, but that was easy to solve. She simply turned around, moved her tail out of the way and let it go. The snow was already dirty, a little more wouldn't hurt it.
> Normally she would prefer to walk somewhere more private, but Mayor didn't feel up to the task that morning. It would have to do, and it wasn't as if any of the nomads were even paying attention.
> In this respect she was still seen more like an animal than a person and displays like that weren't helping her case.
> She filed the problem under 'another day' and returned to the warmth of the tent.
> Darga immediately frowned. "[Why are you waiting? Go!]"
> Her ears flicked back in annoyance, but Mayor worked to keep her tone civil.
"[Yes! Yes. I need things. Cloak. Pots.]"
> She found her stick with the two clay pots and the animal skin coat she usually wore. She didn't bother tying it around her neck for the short journey and simply tossed it over her back and weighed it down with the pole.
> Undoubtedly Intor would want her to fetch water, among other things. Even if not, Mayor would fetch water for her own use.
"[Darga? I stay with Intor Gol Willow? Where sleep?]"
> She thought she knew the answer, but perhaps-
> "[With them. You'll stay with them until you are done. You better behave yourself, or I'll make it longer!]"
> Her ears wilted at the unwelcome news, however much she had been expecting exactly that.
"[W-What if they beat me? Kill me?]"
> Salki made a small sound in his throat, but Darga paid him no mind. "[They won't if you stay quiet and work. If they do, Intor will have to pay me.]"
> That didn't help Mayor any! She was about to ask just what her life was worth, but thought better of it and shook her head, mainly to herself.
> "[Mother!]" Salki finally found his voice. "[Don't let them kill Meyermer!]"
> The woman rounded on him. "[I said they won't!]" she barked, but then her voice softened. "[You check in on Meyermer every day. You will still train with Willow to become a hunter.]"
> That was at least a small mercy, Mayor thought to herself. If they mistreated her too badly, Salki would see and tell his mother. Darga might see the mare as nothing but a slave, but she wouldn't want her property damaged.
> It was the best she could hope for. Mayor remembered why she had to suffer like that and a part of her wished she had had the courage to really kick Willow when she had the chance. It would have gone even worse for her, but maybe it would have been worth it.
> Darga was starting to look impatient again and Mayor began moving before she earned herself a slap on the rump.
> She slowed a little to share a look with Salki, then folded her ears back in determination and pushed out of the tent. At least she would be close to Hisein and could keep an eye on how he was treating his new slaves.
> If he so much as looked at the girl the wrong way Mayor would buck him in half, consequences be damned!
> It helped to think of it that way and she headed off at a brisk trot. After emptying it her stomach felt better and the fresh air helped a bit with her headache. What she needed more than anything was water, though.
> Hopefully Intor would agree to Mayor going to the spring with her pots as the first task.
> The residual hangover and the looming servitude to that Willow blackened Mayor's mood enough to simply ignore all the other nomads she met, whether she knew them or not. Those who liked her would recognize that she didn't want to talk and those who didn't wouldn't care.

> ~~~~

> Mayor Mare stood in front of Intor and Willow's tent for several minutes before she worked up the nerve to go in. She had absolutely no idea what to expect.
> At long last she took a deep breath and pushed inside. Conversation stopped immediately and three nomad faces turned to her.
> On one side there was Intor, who just looked smugly pleased. Mayor wasn't afraid of her, at least not physically and not yet. If Intor gained enough power to overthrow Darga the situation might change.
> Beside his mother, Willow looked sullen an unhappy at seeing the mare. This was a surprise for Mayor, since she had expected the hunter to welcome a chance to hurt her and make her work.
> Did this mean her being there was entirely Intor's doing? Perhaps Mayor should reconsider her concern about the woman.
> Off to the other side there was Gol, but she just looked uncomfortable and didn't meet Mayor's gaze. She would be perhaps her only ally in that household. Or tent-hold, as it may be.
> "[You're late!]" Intor spoke first.
> There was no meaningful reply Mayor could give, so she just shrugged a little.
"[What you want I do?]" Mayor asked, then immediately tried to elicit an answer she wanted: "[I go bring water?"]
> Intor looked thoughtful, but only for a moment. Her gaze strayed to the pole across Mayor's back and the clay pots hanging from it, then she nodded. "[Yes. Go. Gol, go with her and make sure she doesn't run away.]"
> It took an effort of will for Mayor to hold her sigh back. They knew very well that Mayor, even if she had inclinations to run away, had nowhere to go and no way to survive outside of the camp. She had been to fetch water by herself nearly every day and had always come back.
> It didn't matter, Gol was better company than Willow, so Mayor acquiesced with a slight nod before she walked backward out through the flap.
> Once outside she had a few moments to look around, but Hisein's tent was quiet and she couldn't see any sign of his captives. Hopefully she would see them later and make sure they were alright.
> She waited for the few seconds it took Gol to clamber out into the open, then set off toward the little stream the nomads used for their drinking and washing needs. It wasn't very far.
> At first Mayor had wondered why they didn't build their camp nearer the water, or perhaps right on top of it. Having the stream closer would cut down on that daily chore.
> Then again, she saw how little nomads cared about where they tossed their refuse and - she herself was guilty of that too - relieved themselves. Any water running through the camp would quickly become undrinkable.
> Perhaps that was the reason they moved around that much? It would give their campsites time to recover.
> "[I'm sorry about Mother and Willow,]" Gol suddenly said. She finally met Mayor's eye, but quickly blushed and looked away. "[I know you don't want to be here but Mother insisted.]"
> Mayor Mare almost said that it was fine, but changed her mind. Gol was right, she didn't want to work for Intor. She did, however, file that little tidbit away. She had guessed as much when she saw Willow, but Intor was the one who wanted the mare near. She wondered why.
"[It is how it is. What work do you need? You and Intor and Willow?]"
> There was a bit of silence while Gol considered, then she said: "[I don't know. Getting water and firewood. Maybe getting food and tending the fire. Um...]"
> None of that sounded too problematic, so Mayor walked in silence until they were out of the camp. Only then, when there was no danger of someone overhearing, she asked what she really wanted to know.
"[Tell me of Hisein and his, uh, slave?]"
> Despite her best effort to appear nonchalant, Mayor's ears splayed at the topic and she watched Gol's face closely to see if she was overstepping some boundary. It didn't seem so and the girl relaxed.
> "[Oh that? I guess he and Willow divided the loot that way.]"
"[What will he do with them?]"
> It didn't seem to be a taboo subject and Gol answered easily: "[He'll sell the girl when the traders come in the spring. Maybe the boy, too, it depends if he can work.]"
"[Work what?]"
> Gol shrugged and waved her arms in dismissal. "[I don't know, this and that. Chopping wood, carrying things. Anything Hisein doesn't want to do himself.]"
> It didn't sound too bad, but then the girl continued: "[He will probably use him in hunting, too.]"
> The wording was concerning and Mayor wanted to make sure she understood it correctly.
"[Use him? What you mean? How use?]"
> "[I don't know. He'll go on hunts with the men and carry back the catch. Or he might have to go in front if things look dangerous. Sometimes the hunters send slaves to drive the animals in front of them into a trap.]"
> They were going to use the boy as bait?! Mayor's step faltered and Gol walked a few more paces before she stopped. "[Are you okay?]"
> Mayor shook her head, but began moving once more.
"[No. You no understand what they doing is wrong?]"
> At this Gol seemed confused. "[Why is it wrong? The boy and the girl aren't our people.]"
"[It doesn't matter! Why that matter? They are nomad, you are nomad! Same people!]"
> It didn't seem to go through and Gol shook her head. "[They aren't nomads. They are different people.]"
> Mayor Mare growled and stomped her hoof in frustration. Even without conscious thought her tail flicked this way and that.
"[No, they same people! Boy and girl- they have hands, legs, head, skin. You have hands, legs, skin. You same! I different people, but boy and girl same!]"
> They went on and the young nomad considered this in quiet. "[I think I understand, but that's not how we see things. The camp, the group is what matters. Everyone else are outsiders. Traders are tolerated because they bring necessary things, but everyone else is killed.]"
> Before Mayor could respond Gol thought up another thing and went on: "[Outsiders are killed, the boy and the girl are lucky they're worth more alive. They can be taught because they are young. The parents were too old.]"
> Once again Mayor came to understand just how alien, how different the nomad culture was from Equestrian values. She wasn't getting anywhere and she needed time to collect her thoughts and her head to stop hurting.
> Maybe she could eventually explain it to Gol. Salki was almost coming around, after all.
> She didn't reply and the two reached the stream in silence. By that time Mayor was feeling the chill quite heavily and she slipped the pole off her back. She had tossed her coat over herself, but hadn't tied it and it hardly kept any warmth as she moved.
"[Here. Help please.]"
> Her hooves were deft enough to wrap the animal skin around herself, but tying the strings together was still beyond her. Luckily Gol understood and crouched down so she could fasten Mayor's coat around her neck and belly.
> She shivered a bit, but already the air caught under the garment was starting to warm up.
> That done, Mayor left her pots and went to the stream to drink first.

> ~~~~

> The two didn't speak on the way back, which was just as well. Mayor Mare was lost in thought as she tried to come up with a way to convince Gol that her entire culture was wrong and she should ignore her upbringing.
> It wouldn't be easy, but at least with Gol it might be possible, especially if Salki was any indication. No such hope with Willow and Intor.
> Well, if Mayor was being honest with herself, she hadn't really changed Salki's mind, not yet. She was confident she could, though.
> Soon enough they were back at the tent and Gol went inside to get further instructions from her mother while Mayor carefully unloaded her burden outside. She crouched until both clay pots were resting on the ground and then slipped from under the wooden pole.
> Willow came out, followed closely by the two females. Mayor stepped aside to let them drink and went to stand next to Gol.
> She looked around at Hisein's tent, trying to ignore the sounds of loud slurping as Intor and Willow dipped their hands into the water and brought it up to their lips.
> It went on for a while, then there was a loud splash and Mayor's head snapped back. Willow's pot was overturned and the water was already turning the ground into mud.
> At first she thought he must have tripped over the vessel, but his insolent grin told Mayor he had done it on purpose.
"[What?! Why you do that?]"
> Before she could get an answer, Intor pushed hers over as well.
"[Why you do this?!]"
> The older woman answered quite calmly: "[You'll need the pots for milk, so we emptied them.]"
"[What milk?!]"
> Intor ignored her and addressed her instructions to her daughter, who looked decidedly uneasy at this senseless waste. "[Gol, go and milk the herd. The pony will help you.]"
> The prospect was mortifying. Mayor Mare knew that the nomads used the donkeys' milk and she had even gotten some of the soft cheese they made from it, but so far she had stayed away when they were milking the jennies.
> It felt like an invasion of privacy, even if they were just dumb animals.
> She took refuge in her anger about the water.
"[Why you told me go fetch water? You knew we use pots for milk! Why?]"
> Intor just shrugged a little and Willow burst out laughing. "[Just to see the look on your face!]" he chortled.
> Mayor pressed her lips together to keep herself from saying something nasty. She knew plenty of nomad swear words, but it wouldn't do. Apparently they were going to act petty, and the mare told herself it was better than the alternatives.
> If they wanted to mock her, and have her do useless labor, that was better than beating her. She just had to swallow her pride for a while and get through it.
> Despite that knowledge, Mayor grumbled quietly to herself as she went to fetch the clay pots. Her hooves sank into the mud, but she just ignored it and pushed through.
> "[Make sure you don't spill any!]" Willow said, still laughing. He leaned closer and slapped her rump with his palm, which made Mayor jump and squeak in surprise.
> She gave him the stink eye, but the young hunter wasn't paying attention any longer. He went back into the tent while his mother headed deeper into the camp.
> "[Let's go,]" Gol said quietly and put a hand on Mayor's head. "[I don't know why they did this.]"
> There had to be a reason, but as Mayor's anger drained away it was replaced by weariness and a headache. She couldn't think clearly.
"Let's just get this over with!"
> The girl gave her a blank stare and Mayor repeated as closely as she could translate:
"[Let us go do it. Quick.]"
> She effortlessly lifted the pole with the empty pots over her head and balanced it on her back.
> At least, she thought to herself, she might get a bit of milk out of this. It wasn't her preferred drink, and she had never thought about any other type of milk except cow before her time with the nomads, but needs must and it would nourish her.
> She just had to think of the jennies as unthinking beasts. They didn't seem embarrassed about the whole thing, so why should she be?
> It was part of the normal for them.
> Despite that, Mayor couldn't keep a tint of red from her face.

> ~~~~

> Mayor Mare knew she wasn't really needed there. There was no reason for her helping Gol with the milking. In fact, she wasn't really helping at all.
> At best she was an observer, but even that had ceased to be true. Mayor had watched as Gol fetched one of the animals from the herd and led it to a patch of relatively dry and flat mud. She had kept looking when the girl maneuvered one of Mayor's own water pots under the jenny.
> Once Gol reached out her hands Mayor could stand no more and averted her eyes. She felt hot and uncomfortable, and had to loosen her cloak a bit to cool off. It helped a little to stare into the distance and pretend she just happened to be standing there and the milking itself had nothing to do with her.
> No amount of pinning her ears down could stop the sounds, though. The liquid splattered in what felt like unnatural, eerie silence. Even the gentle rumbling of the herd no more than a few steps away seemed distant.
> A sudden high-pitched braying made Mayor look. One of the younger beasts had trotted over and was trying to get its muzzle between the jenny's legs. It was probably her foal, Mayor guessed.
> "[Here! Come help me!]" Gol shouted to the mare while trying to push the small donkey away.
"[What? What I do?!]" Mayor asked in a sudden panic.
> "[Come here!]"
> She approached and tried very hard not to look directly at the donkey's teats and Gol's hand still grasping one. She kept pushing the foal's nose away with her other arm, but it kept coming back.
> "[Grab him!]" Gol ordered. "[Pull him away!]"
> The little creature did not have any kind of a rope and Mayor didn't want to bite it on its ear. In desperation, she threw her hooves around the foal's body and pulled him back.
> Immediately it began to writhe and low mournfully at its mother. If she made a fuss Mayor and Gol wouldn't be able to hold them both by themselves.
> Luckily it seemed the jenny was used to this treatment. She barely glanced at her child, then snorted and looked away. Her ears twitched a little, but she didn't move.
> Well-trained. The thought popped into Mayor's head but she didn't have time to dwell on it. The little donkey contorted wildly until it got enough leverage with its legs to push out out of her hooves and rush at Gol once more, intent on the milk it wanted.
> It smacked into the pot and a hollow thump accompanied the nomad's cry: "[I said hold him!]"
"[Sorry!]"
> Mayor didn't know enough words to tell Gol that the little one had slipped. Instead she hurried forward again and grabbed the donkey around its barrel. It struggled, but this time Mayor was wise to its tricks and held on tightly.
> She dragged it a few steps away and wondered for how long she could keep it still when some other nomads appeared beside her. She had not seen them come and she didn't know their names, but they seemed like they knew what to do. Some help with the struggling foal was quite welcome.
> They were obviously used to dealing with the donkeys because one of the men quickly looped a bit of rope around the foal's neck and began dragging it back to the herd. Mayor was left sitting there, a little dazed after the flurry of activity.
> What had she just witnessed? Would the foal be alright? She glanced at where it was trying to pull away from its captors. The donkey had dug its hooves in, but it was no use. Full-grown nomads were too strong for it and simply dragged it further back.
> Surely they wouldn't beat it, or kill it? Mayor was growing more uncomfortable by the minute.
"[Why- why this not happen every time? What happen to him now?]"
> Gol shrugged and glanced back, but quickly returned her attention to what her hands were doing. The dribbling of milk resumed in full force. "[Oh, we usually slaughter the foals for meat,]" she explained as if it was the most normal thing in the world. "[We're keeping that one for the breed. I forgot. It will be fine.]"
> While it was true that they were just dumb animals, it was still horrific. Mayor tried not to think about it, but her gaze went over the herd and paused on the jennies she could see. Poor things.
> There was no real response she could make, so Mayor went back to studiously examining the ground, or her own hooves, or the distant horizon. She didn't look at the jenny being milked, nor at the foal still braying forlornly where the nomads were tying it to a stake in the ground.
> It didn't take very long. Soon the splashing sound stopped and Gol dragged the pot away. "[Here, fetch another one,]" she told Mayor. She gave the jenny a light push on her rump and the creature ambled away, apparently completely disinterested in what had just happened.
"[What? How?]"
> For a moment Gol looked at the mare as if she were stupid, then sighed and went over to the herd. "[Here. Come,]" she told her. Mayor obediently followed, but she stayed a step behind Gol, as if afraid of the donkeys.
> "[Look for the ones who are giving milk, okay? You can tell because their teats are big- like this.]"
> Gol was pointing it out, but Mayor wasn't looking.
> "[Meyermer? Look. See here?]"
> There was no real avoiding it. Refusing crossed Mayor's mind, but that would just make Gol tell her mother about it and Intor would devise some punishment. She looked at where the nomad girl was pointing.
> Looking at another creature's teats felt wrong. The donkeys weren't from Equestria, but they were still shaped approximately like ponies and it brought up all the little social taboos Mayor had spent her life practicing.
> The creature Gol was pointing out did indeed have larger... teats hanging down between her hind legs.
> Gol reached out and grabbed the jenny by an ear. She gave her a painful-looking yank and the beast turned to follow. "[See? Just pull, or give them a little slap and they'll move. They're trained.]"
> To demonstrate her point, the nomad gave the jenny a light tap on her rump with the palm of her hand and the jenny began to walk. Her ears were folded back in annoyance, but she didn't make any other kind of complaint.
> They led her a short distance away, where Gol maneuvered the donkey around and positioned her just so. The jenny obediently stood still, not much interested.
> Then Gol moved the pot back between her hind legs and bent back to work. She had to crouch on her heels so as not to kneel or sit right in the mud, but the nomad seemed well used to the position and worked efficiently and smoothly.
> Fresh milk dribbled into the pot and Mayor went back to studying the sky around them. She was secretly relieved, though. If that was all Gol needed her to do, she could manage it.
> Moving the donkeys around wasn't too bad, especially if they didn't struggle.
> It was still embarrassing to hear what was happening in the pot and know what was being done, but Mayor herself had taken both milk and cheese to supplement her diet so it would be utterly hypocritical of her to protest now.
> She tried to think of something to ask, to take her mind off what was happening and to fill what felt like an awkward silence.
"[Why you milk all donkeys? They belong to you? All?]"
> Gol chuckled and shook her head. "[We're not that rich. It's just our turn. Every day someone milks them all because it's easier than every family milking their own donkey. Then we'll give the milk to the right owners.]"
> That made a kind of sense, but it sounded like it was too easy to cheat.
"[What if- um, what if some nomad keeps milk? Doesn't give it? Um, too much milk, all for herself?]"
> Gol looked at her with a puzzled look, but then she understood and brightened up. "[Oh, no one would do that. Everyone would know.]"
> By Mayor's estimate, there were some forty families in the camp, which meant it was possible to keep all of their relationship and who owned what in one's head, especially if you grew up with these people and never met anyone new.
> It showed a remarkable degree of trust, but only toward insiders. Mayor wondered if their political maneuverings came into play when it came to wealth as well.
> The thought raised more questions about the nomad's justice system. Mayor knew that it was the chieftain's job to handle any disputes, but she wondered just how Darga decided on such. Surely they didn't have the same standard of evidence as Equestria?
> Maybe it was the fact that everyone depended on everyone else for survival that kept cheating and dissent to a minimum? She would have to learn more, especially if she was to help Darga win her political feud with Intor.

> ~~~~

> The pots were nearly half full, but they had gone through most of the herd and Mayor Mare was looking forward to leaving when Intor came back from wherever she had gone to check in on her daughter and their newest slave.
> Temporary slave, Mayor reminded herself. She only had to bear the woman's intent, piercing gaze for a couple of months.
> Thankfully by now her blush had gone down and she was a bit more relaxed about the milking, though Mayor still didn't look directly at what Gol was doing.
> "[Is she working?]" Intor grumbled the moment she was near enough.
> Gol didn't look up from her task when she answered: "[Yes. She's moving the herd.]"
> Intor looked at the mare, but her expression didn't betray either approval or disapproval. Instead she put her hand on her daughter's shoulder. "[Go fetch sticks for our fire. Meyermer will finish here.]"
> "[What?]"
"[What?!]"
> Mayor and Gol both exclaimed at the same time.
"[I go bring sticks! Please, I can carry more!]"
> Intor would not be swayed. She lifted an arm and pointed. "[Go!]" she hissed at her daughter, who squeaked and jumped to obey. She had time for a regretful look at Mayor before she ran away.
> Then Intor faced the mare. "[Finish milking, then bring the pots to the tent. Don't spill anything or I will beat you, understand?]"
> Mayor Mare swallowed a nervous lump, flattened her ears, then nodded. After that Intor simply walked away.
> For a while Mayor considered simply waiting about thirty minutes, then bringing the nearly half-full pots to Intor. Surely she wouldn't know that not all the creatures had been milked, right?
> Except- a lot of nomads passed the herd on their daily business and if even one of them mentioned that Mayor had been doing nothing Intor would undoubtedly question more people and arrive at the full story.
> There were only one or two more, anyway. Gol would have been done in less than ten minutes.
> It was more of Intor's childish way of tormenting her, Mayor realized. She had seen her expression when Gol had been milking and had guessed it was something Mayor didn't want to do, so, naturally, Intor was making her do it.
> Then, to add more insult, she had simply walked away and left Mayor to it, sure in her knowledge that the mare wouldn't dare disobey.
> The jenny was still standing there over the pot, patiently waiting for someone to move it back to the herd. They really had been trained, Mayor realized.
> In any case, she had to do it. There was no getting around it.
> It wasn't exactly a hard job, nor a dirty one, but it was still one she absolutely didn't want to do.
> She approached the pot and looked at her target. In that exact moment the creature shuffled its hooves and Mayor hurriedly looked away, as if she had been caught staring.
"Buck me..."
> The longer she waited the longer it would take. Mayor settled on her haunches next to the pot and saw that the warm milk was steaming lightly in the chilly air. She lifted up her forehooves and saw they were very muddy.
> Intor or no, Mayor didn't want to track mud into the milk the nomads would drink, nor did she feel right about putting muddy hooves on the jenny's private area. She didn't have any water, but she took the hem of her cloak and rubbed until her hooves were as clean as she could get them.
> It wasn't perfect, but it was the best she could do without a way to wash right next to her.
> She exhaled, flattened her ears and reached out.
> The beast grunted in protest and shuffled away, which nearly made the pot overturn and spill. Only a desperate grab kept it upright and some of the milk still sloshed alarmingly.
> A few drops escaped, but no major damage was done.
> Cold. Mayor realized too late that her hooves were icy. Of course nomads wouldn't have that problem because they didn't walk on their hands.
> She didn't have a better idea, so she stuffed her forelegs between her hind and waited for them to warm up a little. While she was doing so she caught the jenny's confused stare.
"Sorry."
> It didn't understand, of course, but maybe her tone helped because the creature went back to gazing vacantly into the distance.
> A minute later it felt like her hooves were as warm as they were likely to get and Mayor tried again. She reached out and gently touched the soft flesh before her. This time the creature didn't react and Mayor Mare relaxed a little.
> How did it go? She hadn't been paying attention to what exactly Gol was doing, but even if she had, it wouldn't have done her much good. Not with the differences between hands and hooves.
> Maybe she could squeeze?
> Mayor caught a teat between her forelegs and very gingerly pressed together. A bit of milk dribbled down her frog and foreleg. It felt surprisingly warm and she hurriedly rubbed it away.
> She needed to aim the nipple.
> By now her face was so thoroughly red and hot that her vision was wavering and Mayor was having trouble seeing what she was doing.
"I'm really sorry about this!" she told the jenny, even though it couldn't understand. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. Oh, Celestia, this is so wrong!"
> She tried again and this time the liquid dribbled into the pot. Mayor relaxed a tiny bit. At least it was *technically* possible for her to do it, even if it wasn't comfortable.
> The jenny didn't seem to mind, which gave Mayor the tiniest sliver of courage about the whole thing.
> Just in case, though, she didn't look around out of fear some nomads might be watching. If she saw even one smiling at her, or laughing, she would lose her nerve and run away and never show her face in public again.
> Mayor tried to think only of the task in front of her. Those bits of flesh weren't *really* attached to any creature, they were just... there. She was just playing around with some inanimate object which happened to produce milk.
> She wished she could believe it.
> A few squeezes later the dribbles stopped and Mayor let her hooves fall. Was that all? Gol had already been milking this particular jenny for a while before they had switched.
> She tried the other teat and got a bit more.
> Unfortunately she didn't dare put any more pressure on it. Besides, assuming that she was done would get her out of this situation faster! Mayor nearly leapt away and hurriedly removed the pot.
> It was still less than half full. She remembered what Gol had said: try to fill both pots evenly so they would be easier to carry. Milk wasn't like water where she could just add more, or pour some out to even the load.
> She looked at both vessels and picked the one which had less milk. She almost dragged it back under the jenny before she remembered that she had to switch.
"Here. Let's get you back. Um, sorry again. You don't mind, do you?"
> Of course the beast didn't even look at her, so Mayor patted it on its hind leg and the jenny walked off, back to the herd. It knew what was expected of it.
> One or two more, Mayor remembered. She swallowed a lump and followed the donkey to find the next one.
> She had to remember to warm her hooves up this time after she cleaned them again.

> ~~~~

> Mayor Mare plodded carefully back along the muddy, uneven ground. She was acutely conscious of the two clay pots balanced across her back with the wooden pole. Normally she wouldn't have had to really think about something like that, but she couldn't take her mind off her cargo.
> The pots were still only about half full, but they felt heavier. She also imagined they radiated warmth, even though it probably wasn't true anymore. Fresh, warm donkey milk.
> She would trade for some, of course. Her life might depend on it and it was no time to be squeamish. This batch was special, though, because she had collected it herself. At least some of it.
> Her thoughts strayed back to that weird, uncomfortable feeling of another mare's teats between her hooves. College mare or no, that had been a first for Mayor. She wondered what that said about her personality. Probably that she had been a very boring pony.
> It was good that there weren't many nomads around, because Mayor's face went red as a beet once more. She was even more mortified than before and absolutely didn't want to meet anyone she knew.
> Her ears were completely flattened and Mayor flicked her tail every now and then; that was pure nerves.
> The thing on her mind was her own reaction to the milking. It had gone fine while she was completely embarrassed about it, but toward the end, while she was working on the third jenny, something had changed.
> Mayor had suddenly realized that *she had her hooves on another mare's teats*! The warm, supple flesh suddenly felt like fire in her hooves.
> She would not admit it to anyone, but her thoughts had strayed to the most inappropriate of places. She still felt a little bit damp... back there. It was pure luck that her animal skin coat mostly covered her, so no one could see.
"What's bucking wrong with you?! They're animals!" she growled quietly at herself.
> It didn't help, and the shame wouldn't go away. If only her heat had been imminent, at least that would have made for an excuse. Unfortunately Mayor knew it was still months away, so the reaction had been purely her own. Inexcusable.
> She stepped to the side to avoid a nomad, but she didn't even look up to check who it was. They didn't greet her and she was glad of that. Mayor wasn't sure she could trust her voice.
> Unfortunately her destination was near. Intor was sitting in front of her tent and fiddling with the outside fire pit. Thankfully there was no Willow, though. Mayor just had to speak with the woman and perhaps get a new chore, without having to deal with Willow's crap.
> Hopefully the next job would be something less embarrassing. Mayor didn't mind hard work. It was better than... that.
> Maybe she could guide the decision? Gol was still not back with the firewood and Mayor wouldn't mind going out to help the girl, especially if it got her away from her tormentors for a while.
> Intor glanced up when she heard the mare approach and her mouth twitched into a momentary smirk. Undoubtedly she had seen Mayor's expression and guessed at her shame.
> Mayor Mare carefully lowered the pots to the ground next to the woman, who was looking at them with obvious distrust. "[Is that all the milk?]" she asked. "[It's not very much.]"
"[I only three donkey. Gol did everyone, then I did three. This is it.]"
> She didn't remember the word for 'milking', which was just as well. Even thinking about it was making Mayor uncomfortably warm and she swung her tail a bit under the coat to cool off the problematic part.
> "[Huh,]" was all the reply she got.
> Mayor decided to try and lead the conversation.
"[Gol not back yet? Sticks for the fire?]"
> There was a small bundle of wood next to Intor and saying it reminded her to place a few of them on her tiny flame. They were running out, though.
> The ploy worked, though, and Intor pointed her finger. "[Go and get more firewood. That way. Help Gol if you can find her.]"
> Mayor was only too glad to get away, especially with a job which was very nearly pleasant. A short walk away from Intor and Willow. She cast a quick look at Hisein's tent, but it was still quiet.
> Maybe they were all still inside, or maybe the nomad had taken his slaves out. For what, Mayor couldn't really guess. Exercise? Work? She wanted to know, but she didn't want to ask Intor.
> If the woman suspected Mayor was anxious about the little ones' safety, she might get Hisein to hurt them just to get to her. She didn't think they would go too far, after all- the thought left a bad taste in Mayor's mouth - these were valuable slaves, but they might beat them.
> In either case, she had her orders, but she still needed one thing before she could leave.
"[I need rope. Tie sticks, I carry more.]"
> Intor half-raised her hand and almost told Mayor to fetch it herself, but she paused and said: "[Wait.]" She placed a few more of her sticks on the little fire and stood up.
> She apparently didn't trust Mayor alone in the tent for some reason. It really didn't make much sense.
> Intor's family didn't have anything particularly worth stealing. For that matter, almost no nomad had. At best, Mayor might turn up some dry, wrinkly vegetables if she were lucky.
> She walked closer to the fire to soak up what little warmth it gave off as she waited. She glanced at the pots and wondered if she could get away with dunking her muzzle in for a few sips quickly before Intor was back.
> Her foreleg jerked up at the thought even before Mayor made a decision, but Intor stepped out of the tent at that moment and Mayor put her hoof back down.
> "[Here. Go,]" Intor said and held out the coiled length of rope. Mayor deftly grabbed it with her mouth and expertly swung it around her neck.
> Tying sticks to herself with hooves would be a pain, so Mayor was really hoping she could find Gol out there to help her.
"[Um, which way Gol went? You know?]"
> Intor just grunted, but then she leaned her head to one side in thought. "[Try going west from the spring.]"
> That would make sense. Mayor remembered a sparse grove of spindly trees in the area. She gave the woman a nod and walked off before Intor remembered she hated the mare.
> Their exchange had been polite, almost pleasant! Maybe Intor had only been nasty on Willow's behalf? Mayor was certain Willow hated her, though she couldn't say exactly why.
> Before just now, she had also thought Intor greatly disliked her, but now she was not as sure. Maybe the woman was just trying to keep face in front of her son? Did she think he might become chieftain some day and was pre-emptively sucking up to him?
> On the other hoof, perhaps the woman had been distracted by her fire and hadn't remembered to be mean. Mayor would have to see how she behaved in the future, both when Willow was nearby and when he was not.
> For the moment she had an almost pleasant stroll, some very light labour, and maybe a nice chat with Gol if she could find her.
> It would likely be the highlight of her day.

> ~~~~

> Mayor Mare slipped the bundle of twisted and gnarled branches off her back. She had a few more grasped in a foreleg and hobbling was getting tiresome. It meant she had to undo her inexpert knot, then tie it again.
> It was annoying, tricky, fiddly work for both hooves and mouth. At times like these the mare wished she had paid closer attention to how the Apples did it. That family was renowned for their skill with a rope.
> Unfortunately she hadn't found Gol, so Mayor was doing the best she could on her own. She pressed the new branches against the lot and tried to gauge how much she had. Enough to last through the rest of the day?
> Probably not, she decided with a heavy sigh. She dropped the end of the rope to the side and rolled the sticks over, which was easier than trying to lift them up and loop the string around them instead.
> Then she stepped on one end of the rope and put the other across. She had to work at it with her teeth and tongue to get them to loop around each other, which was not the greatest prospect.
> Too many nomad hands had gripped that rope and she could taste their salty sweat in it. Mayor flattened her ears and bore through it, until she had the crude semblance of a knot tightened.
> She kept her hoof on one end of the string and tugged it tight with her teeth. It would come undone, but hopefully not until she was back in the camp. The important thing right now was that she licked up some clean snow, chewed it for a moment to get rid of the taste, then spat it out.
> The sticks would hold together, at least approximately, and she carefully swung them onto her back. Thankfully it was only annoying, not really difficult. She chuckled to herself. Did she really prefer boring, fiddly, annoying work to milking?
> That was essentially just fondling another mare. The thought made Mayor hiss through her teeth. Thoughts like that were wrong! Maybe the creatures were unthinking beasts, but that didn't mean she could treat them like the nomads were doing!
> Picking up wood was better and far less embarrassing.
> She looked around for more, mainly to get her mind out of the gutter, and spotted what she needed. A thick, nearly-severed branch, hanging from a nearby tree. She couldn't tell what had happened, but it was old. Moss covered the limb and the place it had broken from was well on its way to heal.
> Maybe a lightning strike, or a particularly strong gust of wind, Mayor guessed.
> The important thing was that the branch was on the ground, within reach. She slid her bundle of sticks off and inspected the job before her.
> She tried gripping it with hooves, but the wood was slick and she couldn't grasp it. Mayor sighed in resignation and bit into it with her teeth. The bark was soft and tasted bitter, but she ignored it and pulled.
> A powerful tug broke it completely loose and the log thumped on the ground beside her. It was a thick branch, but Mayor was confident she could easily break it up into smaller pieces back in the camp. It also meant that if she dragged it back, her job would be done.
> That would be plenty of firewood through the night.
> She tightened her flimsy knot on the bundle again and swung it around on her back. Then she grabbed the end of the fallen branch in her teeth and began to walk back.
> It wasn't too far to the spring and she was likely to meet other nomads there. They could help her secure the firewood if it started to unravel.
> Mayor thought about Hisein's slaves as she walked, the piece of wood in her mouth nearly forgotten, unless it snagged on something. What could she even do for them? Intor didn't take her seriously and Willow absolutely despised her. That dislike would transfer over to all of Willow's friends.
> She couldn't get Salki to intervene either, because the young man was trying to be just like Willow for some reason and couldn't stop himself from sucking up. He was likely to side with the hunter rather than Mayor.
> Gol might be the closest she had to an ally, but the girl didn't really understand that slavery was wrong, and she couldn't really go against her mother's wishes.
> Would it be possible to befriend Hisein, or at least be polite with him? Maybe if she tried approaching him more diplomatically, maybe trade a few favors with him, he'd be inclined to treat his slaves a bit better?
> As much as it stung, that was probably the only real thing Mayor could do for them. If they stayed in the camp and worked hard, maybe someday they could be accepted as members. She didn't know how slavery among nomads worked. Maybe it was for life?
> On the other hoof, if Hisein sold them to the traders, they would be completely beyond even what little help Mayor could give. They might end up anywhere, and be forced to do anything at all! The thought chilled her.
> Mayor paused and dropped the log for a moment. She stepped over it and picked it back up so she was dragging it on the other side of her body. That would strain different muscles and give her a bit of a respite.
> She saw the tents in the distance. Not much further now.
> A few people were out with their water skins and Mayor angled toward them. She felt the bundle of sticks getting looser with each hoof step and she didn't feel like stopping to tie them again.
> She thought she recognized one of the women from their gathering expeditions, but the name escaped her. As soon as she was near enough, the mare cleared her throat.
"[Um- hi. Help tie rope please? My wood fall.]"
> The nomad gave her a friendly wave, which was definitely a good sign, and put her water skin down to free both hands. Mayor stood still while she worked to tie a better knot in the rope.
> "[You're dragging that whole thing back? Isn't it heavy?]"
"[No, I'm a pony. It's not heavy,]" Mayor assured her.
> The woman inspected the branch again. "[How will you chop it?]"
"[Break it with leg.]"
> Mayor mimed stomping on the bit of wood, but the nomad looked skeptical. She didn't argue further, though. Instead, she reached to tug gently at her mane. "[When will you have more hair? My daughter has been asking me for a bit to tie her hair. She likes the color.]"
> Before Mayor could think up an answer, the woman continued as if she had just remembered: "[Oh, wait. I heard you are with Intor now. Maybe your hair belongs to her too?]"
> That was a nasty thought and one Mayor hadn't considered until that very moment. What if Intor wanted to cut her mane and trade it away herself? It was just about the only thing of value Mayor had to her name, and her survival may well depend on it.
> She had managed to feed herself pretty well lately, but there was a lot of winter still to come and the mare needed every advantage she could get. She paused and dropped the branch so she could speak.
"[Oh. No, no, it is mine. Not Intor's.]"
> Unfortunately she was not nearly as confident as she sounded. She would really have to take matters into her own hooves. Maybe Gol would help her, or if not her, Salki. She needed to cut her mane and tail as short as she could and trade them away.
> Maybe Xuan or Salki would hold on to it until she needed it. Mayor felt like she could trust them.
> "[Good. I want some. What do you want in return?]" the nomad asked, then went right to the offer: "[I have some spice and some salt. My daughter has made a nice bag, it would help you carry stuff.]"
> Mayor shook her head at both. They were less important.
"[You have food? Yams, cheese, potatoes?]"
> For a moment the nomad standing beside her looked doubtful, but then gave a half-hearted nod. "[I have a bag of potatoes. They're still good for stew. You'll give me half of your head for it?]"
> It was very expensive, but the winter was harsh and supplies were running low, so the price was not unexpected. Luckily, by then Mayor knew she had to haggle a little with the nomads. They always asked fora higher price and expected their trading partner to try and argue it down a little.
"[No, half of half. I give you sack back and I bring you wood- um, three times?]"
> It was reasonable and the nomad smiled. "[Deal.]"
> All Mayor had to do now was get her mane cut, as short as possible. She picked the log back up and began to drag it again. The woman fell in step beside her.

> ~~~~

> Mayor Mare found herself relieved when she saw Gol trudging back to the tent with her bundle of sticks. By that time she had already broken her big log into pieces and tossed some of the wood on the fire.
> Intor was in the tent, but she didn't seem particularly inclined to give new orders, which suited Mayor just fine. She couldn't guess at what the woman was doing and Mayor was loath to go check.
> For all she knew, if Intor caught sight of her she might come up with another difficult or humiliating job. So Mayor simply sat near the fire and waited for something else to come along.
> By now she was convinced that Hisein and his new slaves were out, since she hadn't heard any movement in their tent the whole while she had been sitting. Maybe they would come back soon, but first Mayor had to focus on her own problem.
"[Gol! Gol, come. Help, please!]"
> The girl was still some distance away, but she hurried her steps at Mayor's call and she soon dropped her gathered sticks next to where Mayor had left hers.
> "[What is all this? I thought I was getting the firewood,]" she commented.
"[Intor said I go help. I did not find you, so I brought wood.]"
> That wasn't difficult to believe and Gol just shrugged to herself. She pointed at the broken pieces of the larger branch. "[How did you bring those? Did you tie them?]"
> Mayor Mare shook her head.
"[No. Um- one wood. Big stick I brought, then...]"
> It was easier to demonstrate, so Mayor stood up and took one of the larger pieces. She held one end with her foreleg in a fetlock and let the other rest on the ground. Then she gave it a swift, precise kick with a well-placed hind hoof and broke it cleanly in two.
> "[Impressive. Oh, what do you need help for?]"
> Mayor hurriedly pushed the two new logs to the larger pile and gave Gol a pleading, uncertain look.
"[Ah, knife? Cut my hair. Um, it is long.]"
> She held up a strand as if to demonstrate, but in reality it was too short for Mayor to grip easily. She saw the doubt on Gol's face and admitted with a small sigh.
"[Okay. I need hair to trade. Trade food.]"
> That made more sense and Gol gave a nod, albeit an uncertain one. She crouched down beside Mayor and put her hand in her mane. The touch was quite pleasant, even if it tickled.
> Mayor grabbed Gol's wrist with a fetlock and pressed it down more firmly.
"[Yes. Strong. Don't be afraid.]"
> She didn't know the word for 'tickle', but it seemed Gol got the message and dug her fingers in with more pressure. She ran them down Mayor's mane and the mare let out her breath as she relaxed.
> For a few minutes she just let the girl scratch her.
> Soon, though, Gol stopped and picked a strand of mane up. "[Are you sure? It's not very long yet.]"
"[Please.]"
> For some reason the nomad looked a bit regretful, but she stood up and shrugged a little to herself. "[Okay, let me get the stone.]"
> Of course she needed to fetch the tools from the tent. Mayor knew that some of the nomads carried a few bits of flint which they could use to make impromptu knife-flakes. At least that was what Mayor called them in her head.
> A skilled nomad could just tap two bits of stone together and the tiniest sliver would break off and give them an edge sharper than any razor Mayor had seen in Equestria. Since these flakes were so easy to make, there was no point in carrying them around and risk cutting oneself.
> Gol wasn't yet as skilled and often needed several tries to produce a usable edge, so she didn't carry it with her all the time. Another part of the reason was that she didn't have a pouch she could tie around her waist. Those seemed like a luxury in the camp.
> Mayor half-lifted her hoof to stop Gol from going in the tent. She hadn't thought her plan through and now she realized that the girl might tell her mother what they were doing, which would surely give Intor the idea of taking the mane for herself.
> Right at that moment the flap was pushed aside and the woman stepped out.
> Intor glanced at the pile of wood and Mayor imagined she nodded to herself in approval, even if it was the tiniest of gestures.
> Then, before either of them could react, the woman gave Gol her instructions: "[Kantuta is giving out the milk. Get the pots from her, take the pony and go wash them, then use her to fetch more water.]"
> Mayor nearly asked Intor if she was going to spill that one as well, but held her muzzle shut. She didn't want to antagonize the woman needlessly.
> "[Okay,]" Gol said.
> "[When you're done set up the... I'll be back later.]"
> Much to Mayor's relief she saw that Intor was heading out again. That would give them some solitude and privacy for their task. She just hoped Gol wouldn't blurt out what they were about to do.
> Luckily the girl didn't want to interrupt her mother when she was apparently busy and simply waited politely until Intor had left. Then she held up the tent flap and beckoned Mayor inside.
> "[Come on, we'll cut your hair quickly before those other things.]"
"[Thank you. Um, what Intor say? Set up what?]"
> Gol repeated the words, but they still didn't make sense to the mare and she leaned her head to one side in puzzlement. Rather than explain, Gol went to rummage among the bags at the side until she found three blackened sticks with those carved notches for rope and a weird, wrinkled, dried bit of leather.
"[Oh! Tripod and, um pot?]"
> That was its function, so Mayor decided to translate the word the nomads used for their leather vessel as 'pot'.
> "[Yes. Good. Okay, let me make a knife.]"
> Gol had pushed the tent flap high up so it stayed open and gave them more light than what the low fire or the hole in the center could provide. Mayor went and settled herself on one of the cots, not much caring if she was tracking a bit of mud into Intor's or Willow's bed.
> It wasn't as if they would even notice. Mayor shrugged out of her animal skin coat and dropped it on one of the other cots. On a clean one, she couldn't help thinking with the tiniest twinge of guilt.
> Soon the girl joined her with her two bits of stone and Mayor watched closely as she tapped them together. The first few tries were too gentle and nothing happened. Then Gol put more strength into it, but she must have done it wrong because one of her stones split neatly in twain.
> "[Damn. Sorry, let me try again,]" she murmured.
> She put one of the halves down and changed hands. Once again she gave it a few light taps where nothing happened, then a sharper knack. This time a sliver of flint split off and Gol grinned with pride.
> "[There we go.]"
"[Good job.]"
> The stones went back into a small sack which Gol dutifully stored back where she had found it, then she took the flake and examined it against the light. It was apparently good enough, so she turned to Mayor with an expectant look.
"[Um, okay,]" the mare said and turned away to give Gol easy access to her mane, "[make it short please. Um, cut whole hair, yes? Long, uh, long ropes!]"
> Her choice of word made Gol giggle, but she patted Mayor's back and said: "[I understand. Hold still. I'll try.]"
> Mayor had been worried a little that Gol might not be skilled at this job and would make a mess of her mane. It wouldn't matter much since nomads didn't seem to care much about appearances, at least in ponies and donkeys. It was more important that she ended up with long strands she could sell.
> Luckily the girl was skilled and Mayor rolled her eyes at her own silliness. Of course Gol would have helped Intor and probably Willow with their hair as well in the past.
> Her fingers tugged a little as they picked out locks of her mane and the small stone blade made a rasping sound as it smoothly cut. Mayor didn't see what Gol was doing with her mane, so she reminded her just in case:
"[No throw hair down, okay? Keep it for trade.]"
> "[I know, I know. It's safe, don't worry,]" Gol chided with a giggle. "[I'm not stupid, you know?]"
"[Sorry.]"
> Mayor closed her eyes and let the young nomad do her job. After a while she relaxed and enjoyed the touch and even the gentle tugging. It reminded her a little of getting her mane done at the Ponyville Spa and she let herself get lost in that memory. It was making her drowsy, which was a thoroughly pleasant feeling.
> She almost didn't notice when it was over, until Gol reached around and carefully patted her muzzle. "[Meyermer? You okay?]"
"Mmm- what?" she began, but then corrected: "[What?]"
> There was a note of laughter in Gol's voice. "[Did you fall asleep?]"
"[Yes. You are good, um, doing this. Thank you.]"
> The girl held the stone flake over the fire to toss it away now that it was no longer needed, but Mayor hurriedly put a hoof on her hand.
"[No! Not done yet!]"
> Gol looked at her strangely, not understanding, but she brought the flake back.
"[My tail!]"
> For a few seconds all Gol could do was blink in confusion, so Mayor stood up to bring her tail within reach and flicked it left and right a little. That made it clear, but the girl sounded hesitant: "[Really?]"
> It was the same pink hair which the nomads valued and Mayor had no illusions that Intor would hesitate in cutting it off,
"[Yes. Make it short.]"
> There was silver lining, she told herself. Long mane and tail were unwieldy and got in the way of hard work. She had felt much better after that first time Salki had cut them for her. Having them even shorter might look strange, but it would be useful and it would help keep her alive.
> Gol gathered some of the strands of her tail in a hand and felt them between her fingers. "[Uh, how short? Where do I cut? I never cut a tail before.]"
> Mayor was wondering the same thing herself. Could she get away with leaving a bit of her tail? Would Intor chop what was left out of sheer spite?
> She would probably beat her and demand the clippings for herself, Mayor suspected, as soon as she realized what had happened and what Mayor intended to do with them. That was fine, Mayor could take a beating better than she could starving.
> Better not leave the woman anything to work with.
"[Your hand. Feel up. Up tail. Um, there is... Touch. Up. You will find it.]"
> She knew some words pertaining to nomad anatomy, but this was not something they had so Mayor didn't have a word for 'dock', nor for 'tail bone'. She tried to explain as best she could using other terms.
"[Um, up, no more tail, but warm. You understand?]"
> Gol ran her hands up and Mayor felt her gentle prodding and tugging. She lifted the tail up to examine it from all angles and the touch of chill air on her private bits reminded Mayor of her earlier trouble.
> She forced that thought firmly away. There was nothing... 'exciting' about this situation. It was just a tail cut!
> Except Gol's hands seemed to radiate warmth and her fingers twirled and danced until they reached their target. "[Ah! I feel it, yes. Dock.]"
> Mayor didn't know that last word, but she decided it meant 'dock'. She didn't really try to commit it to memory, since it probably wouldn't have much use in daily conversation, but something told her that this one would stick.
> She faced forward, stared at the tent wall and did her best to control her breathing. Gol was feeling around her tail to make sure she wouldn't nick her, but that meant she was moving it around a lot and that was provoking a reaction.
> At one point she grazed her knuckles on Mayor's rump, which made the mare's breath catch for a moment. Her ears were already flat and she redoubled her studies in tent-wall.
> Once again Gol paused. She let her hands dropped as she asked: "[Really? That short? I can leave a bit. It will look bad if I cut this much.]"
> Mayor turned her head to look back and the sight of Gol kneeling there, just behind her, with her face so very close to-
> She closed her eyes and nodded urgently. "[Yes. Okay, leave a bit. Do what you think.]"
> That was more to Gol's liking and she picked up Mayor's tail again. Once more she ran her fingers up until she found the fleshy bit, then she inched them a little lower.
> She hummed a little to herself and fiddled with the strands. Eventually she said: "[Here, I think, yes?]"
> Along with the question she pulled the tail away in an effort to show Mayor how much would be left. She didn't look and tried to concentrate on pushing the rising feeling of warmth back down.
> Instead she just nodded.
"[That is good. Do it, please.]"
> "[Okay,]" the girl said, voice still a little doubtful but she didn't hesitate any longer. She kept hold of Mayor's tail in one hand and picked up the stone flake with her other. "[Hold still.]"
> Mayor tensed her legs and even tried to slow her breathing. She switched her gaze from the tent wall to the ground, which was tightly-packed, dried mud. Before she would have thought it dirty, but now it was absolutely fine. At least this dry stuff didn't cling to her hooves.
> There were Intor and Willow's possessions strewn around, usually in bags so Mayor couldn't tell exactly what they were, but she saw a couple of spear heads and a more permanent stone knife in some kind of a bone handle.
> She wondered where Intor kept her jewelry. She knew the woman had a few copper bangles and a necklace of some kind of teeth. That last she thought had a more ceremonial role than decorative and she briefly wondered when it would be used.
> The items were probably well hidden. Gol likely knew where, Mayor thought. Perhaps she could ask her about the social importance of these things later. Learning a bit of nomad ritual and lore would allow her to deal more easily with them as a culture.
> Unfortunately these thoughts kept slipping away as Gol worked. She tugged at Mayor's tail and the feeling of heat was rising up, inexorably. Already she had had to open her mouth to breathe more quickly.
> "[Okay, almost done,]" Gol told her.
> Mayor didn't know why it was taking that long to simply chop her tail off. Maybe it was because the girl had never done it before and was being extra careful? Salki had been much faster about it.
> That reminded her that Salki, too, had his hands very near her private parts at some point. At the time she hadn't even thought about it, but now it was making her wonder what it would feel like if he had pushed his fingers-
"[Ugh!]"
> The tugging stopped and Gol leaned to one side to look at Mayor's face. "[You okay? Sorry, did I hurt you?]"
"[No. Fine. Do it!]"
> If Gol noticed that Mayor's voice had a slightly strangled quality she didn't show it. She went back to her task and after a few more tugs Mayor felt her hands fall away. She held out her prize. "[Here. Your tail.]"
> The mare glanced back and saw that Gol was holding a large clump of hair in her fist. That was good, it would give her a lot of material to trade with. She just had to keep it safe from Intor now.
"[Put it with rest, okay? I take it to Xuan.]"
> "[Why Xuan?]"
"[She keep it safe for me.]"
> The tail-cutting was over, much to Mayor's relief and she was about to turn back and face Gol head-on to explain about Xuan, but the nomad put a hand on her flank to hold her in place. "[What is this?]" she murmured, mostly to herself.
> Before Mayor realized what Gol was doing, she had run a finger right down- right down her-
> The mare sucked in a breath in shock and jumped forward. She twisted at the same time to get her rear out of sight as quickly as possible.
> Gol was examining her finger, which had a drop of clear liquid. She sniffed it, then rolled it between two digits.
> Mayor was mortified, both for getting aroused during a tail-cut and for the casual way Gol was examining it.
"[Sorry! I did not mean to- I'm sorry! It's nothing!]"
> Realization dawned and Gol's eyes went wide. "[Oh, did you- oh! Because I- your tail?]"
> It helped a little that the nomad was just as red in her face as Mayor felt herself.
"[Yes. Sorry. I did not mean.]"
> She watched as Gol absentmindedly wiped her fingers on her tunic. She looked at the fire for a long while, then forced herself to return her gaze to the mare.
> "[It's okay. It happens to me too. Um, we should go get the pots and the water.]"
> It was a relief to be doing anything else and Mayor nodded. She pointed a hoof at the clippings of her mane and tail in Gol's lap.
"[Yes. Um, small skin? Wrap up mane so people no see? Take it to Xuan now.]"
> Gol looked around for a scrap of fur and bundled up the strands. She held it out to Mayor, but then remembered that ponies didn't have hooves and just held it. "[I'll take it for you. Let's go to Xuan first.]"
"[Yes. Thanks.]"
> Mayor hurried out of the tent and waited while Gol got up and followed. The air was brisk and she felt a new, unfamiliar chill on her scalp and rear. A new, sudden worry came into her head.
> If her tail was too short to properly hide her... shame-
> She was suddenly grateful to Gol for insisting to leave some, but was it enough? There was no mirror and no way for Mayor to look herself, so she swallowed a lump, flattened her ears, then asked the girl.
"[Um- back, tail. Can you see? Um, see me? See it?]"
> It was still fresh enough on both their minds that Gol understood. She looked, then gave Mayor a relieved nod. "[No, it's fine. I left enough to, uh, cover you.]"
"[Thank you!]"
> A more heartfelt thanks Mayor did not think she had given a nomad yet. Despite that she concentrated on keeping her tail flat down and unmoving.
> True, she was naked most of the time, especially compared to nomads, but there had always been her tail to hide the more risque bits.
> She would have to get used to wearing her coat all the time, until her tail grew a little longer.
"[Wait. My coat!]"
> She ducked back into the tent to fetch it. It would help hide her shame. She grabbed it, tossed it across her back and hurried out again.
"[Okay, let's go.]"

> ~~~~

> Before Mayor and Gol could set out the mare remembered her earlier, promised trade and spoke up:
"[Wait! I need hair. Trade with- um...]"
> Unfortunately the name of the nomad woman still eluded her, but Mayor knew approximately where the woman had her tent and would recognize her. She gave Gol a slightly embarrassed grin.
"[Trade. Half of half head, okay? Take it out, I trade today.]"
> The girl looked uncertain, but she didn't argue. She went back to the tent and said: "[Not here. I don't want anyone to see. Wait,]" before slipping inside.
> That was a good idea and Mayor stood patiently while Gol unwrapped her mane and picked out enough for the promised trade. She came out in less than a minute with two bundles in her hands.
"[Thank you.]"
> It was finally time to leave the tent and, with it, the risk of Intor finding them before they could get the precious mane away. Mayor breathed a sigh of relief and fell in step with Gol.
> "[What are you trading for?]" the girl asked as they walked.
"[Bag of potatoes. Uh, we give that to Xuan too.]"
> Belatedly Mayor realized that if she brought food into Intor's tent, the woman would be liable to just take it. She hoped Xuan would be okay with hiding these items for her. She hadn't actually discussed it with her yet.
> In either case it was done and there was no choice. If Xuan wasn't sure, Mayor would go to Salki. Strange, she thought to herself, how Salki was her second choice.
> She liked the young man, but he was sometimes absentminded and she felt she could trust Xuan more. It wasn't too hard to imagine Salki just giving the sack to his mother without explaining they were meant to keep it for Mayor, and Darga just using it one night.
"[Oh, please don't tell Intor, yes? About hair and potatoes. Please?]"
> Another concern Mayor had overlooked until just that minute. She didn't know how close Gol and her mother were and her secret might get out that way. Well, the fact that she had her mane and tail cut wouldn't really be a secret, but where she had stashed the clippings was.
> Luckily Gol gave her a nod and a friendly smile. "[I won't say anything, I promise.]" A moment later her expression darkened and she pointed at Mayor. "[She will see you hair, though. You can't hide that.]"
"[I know. Just don't tell anything, yes? I'll talk.]"
> The girl shrugged to herself and repeated: "[Okay, I promise.]"
> That proved, at least somewhat, that she could trust Gol to an extent. That was good news and Mayor felt better about her servitude. She had a friend in the tent.
"[Thanks!]"
> There wasn't much else to talk about, so Mayor took the lead and went to search out the woman she had met at the spring. She was certain she was in the right area and the nomad would also certainly seek her out when she saw the mare with a freshly cut mane.
> They walked around tents and past cook fires. Some of those were heavy with the meat smell, which helped Mayor stave off hunger. She hadn't had a chance to really eat that day yet, thanks to her hangover, and she had put in some hard work. She was definitely feeling the emptiness in her midriff now.
> A few pots smelled mostly of vegetable and her mouth watered. She would have to eat at least a few of those potatoes immediately, she thought. With luck Xuan would let her use her fire and cooking pot, so she could stretch the tubers a little with water.
> More importantly, Gol would hopefully be willing to wait for a bit before going on the errands her mother had set her.
> Someone called her name, or at least the nomad version of it, and Mayor recognized the voice. She still didn't remember the name, but it was the same person. They were quite close and she headed over to her fire, where the woman in question was bent over her leather pot.
> Her stew looked like it was coming along nicely and she held a pointed stick in her hand which she was using to mix the contents every now and then.
> "[I see you work fast!]" the woman joked. Her gaze strayed to Gol and Mayor thought there was some coldness in her eyes, but her smile returned as soon as she looked back at the mare. "[I guess you still want the potatoes?]"
"[Yes. Gol, please?]"
> Gol obediently handed over one of the bundles and the other nomad straightened up from her bubbling stew to inspect it. She unwrapped and examined the vivid pink hair bundled in a bit of animal fur.
> "[There's not very much here,]" the woman murmured.
> Before Mayor could answer Gol replied in her stead: "[I'm sorry. I'm not very good with cutting and I didn't cut it very well. It's half of half of her head.]"
> The nomad spared Gol the briefest of glances and grunted noncommittally. She decided it was good enough and put the bundle away somewhere in her cloak. "[Keep an eye on my stew, okay?]" she told them and vanished into her tent.
> Mayor inspected the contents of the pot again. It was hard to see through the bubbling mass, but she thought she spotted a few potatoes in there. At least, she thought, that proved the woman really did have some left.
> "[Sorry,]" Gol said. "[I mean about your hair. Maybe I should have cut more.]"
> Mayor hadn't had a chance to inspect herself and no real means to do so. The nomads did not have any mirrors and even if they did, such a delicate object wouldn't survive one of their migrations.
> Her best chance was to go stare in the stream on a still day, or a puddle of water after rain. Despite that, Mayor tried to screw up her eyes to see at least the fringe of her mane. She saw a bit of pink, but it didn't tell her much.
"[It's okay. Thank you.]"
> That calmed Gol down. The girl had been really worried that Mayor might be mad at her ineptitude. She knew the strands of mane had to be as long as possible for trade, otherwise it was too fiddly to weave them into anything.
> To emphasize that Mayor wasn't upset she stepped closer and pressed her flank against Gol's thigh.
["It better with practice, no? Next time you cut like a- like good cut!]"
> She had fumbled her words there because she didn't yet know enough of the language, but Gol understood and giggled at her clumsy expression. "[Like a master?]" she prompted.
"[Yes! Like a master.]"
> "[Okay. Next time I will do it better, I promise.]"
> Their conversation was cut short when the woman returned from the tent with a leather bag in her hand. Mayor would have preferred to keep potatoes in burlap, but the nomads didn't know how to make such things and the only examples came from the traders.
> As a result, they were highly valued and Mayor had seen several young nomads with bits of their clothes made from burlap, rather than leather.
> Those had all but vanished when the winter set in, so it was her guess that they used burlap clothing during the warmer months. It would be more airy and comfortable, after all.
> If only Mayor could remember anything about growing flax or cotton, or how to weave it! She could have made quite a comfortable living for herself with a skill like that. Her thoughts strayed to the resident seamstress in Ponyville. Her skills would be invaluable, if the white unicorn didn't faint from all the mud.
> The woman handed her the sack and Mayor lowered it to the ground so she could peer inside. It wasn't as heavy as she had hoped, but neither was it as light as she had feared.
> The potatoes were a bit wrinkly and she could smell a touch of mold. She'd have to ask Xuan to wash them and leave them out of the bag, Mayor thought to herself.
> "[Bring the bag back, okay?]" the nomad said. "[I'm lending you the bag.]" 
> Mayor understood the unspoken message: there wasn't enough mane there for the woman to give her the bag along with the potatoes.
"[Yes. Deal.]"
> "[Actually, no,]" the nomad went on. "[This is good material,]" she said and fingered the bit of skin Gol had used to wrap the mane in. "[I'll make a pouch. You can keep the bag in exchange for this.]"
> It wasn't really her decision and Mayor looked up at Gol, who just shrugged and nodded. "[Okay.]"
"[Thanks. Um, you keep bag if you want, I only need potatoes,]" she told Gol.
> They were about to leave, but the nomad reached out her hand and placed it on Mayor's back. "[Wait. Here, you're too thin,]" she said and speared one of the potatoes in her stew with her mixing stick.
> Her hunger flared up until it was almost like a physical pain in her belly and Mayor didn't question the gift. She quickly sat on her haunches to free her forehooves, wiped them on her coat, and accepted the morsel.
"[Thank you!]"
> The heat of it was spreading through her hoof and the smell was intoxicating. Her stomach gave a loud grumble and her mouth filled with saliva. Mayor couldn't wait for the thing to cool down and took a careful nibble.
> It was hot, but also delicious. She juggled it around her mouth and breathed in cold air to cool her tongue. It vanished even before she consciously thought about swallowing.
"[It's good!]"
> That wasn't entirely honest, the potato could use a bit more salt in Mayor's opinion, but it was still hot and filling and the warmth began to spread pleasantly out from her stomach.
> By pure luck there was no meat in the stew, although Mayor was hungry enough to eat a meat-smelling potato at that point.
> She quickly devoured the rest, then looked longingly for more. The nomad probably saw her gaze, but ignored it and Mayor got back to her hooves with as much grace as she could muster. She picked up the leather bag with her mouth and walked away with a mumble of thanks for the woman.
> Gol was still waiting and quietly fell in step with Mayor as they left. "[Xuan next?]" she asked.
"[Yeph.]"
> Despite the bag it was intelligible enough for Gol to understand and the two made their way to their next destination.
> It wasn't too far and pretty soon they were standing in front of a quiet tent. Mayor approached and poked her head inside, but it was empty. She could smell both Buygra and Xuan, and Xuan's mother, but none of them were in.
> Mayor looked to one of the nearby fires until she caught the gaze of a vaguely familiar young girl.
"[Hey! Where Xuan? Where Xuan please?]"
> The nomad mouthed something Mayor didn't catch, but pointed a finger in some direction. It was the best lead she had, so they headed that way.
> "[We should do what Mother said,]" Gol reminded the mare.
"[Yes, need to give hair and potatoes to Xuan. Soon, okay?]"
> Gol wasn't too happy about what she probably considered dilly-dallying, but she went along despite that. Well, her mother would see it that way, anyhow. Mayor knew Gol might get a talking to, or even a slap if they delayed too much longer.
> Luckily they came across Xuan who was apparently just going back to her tent.
"[Hi! Where did you go? We were at the tent.]"
> Xuan placed a hand on her belly and looked uneasy. "[I was sick. It's better now.]"
> This made Mayor giggle and she commented:
"[Yes, me too!]" When she caught Xuan's startled gaze she quickly added: "[Because of beer.]"
> That explained it and Xuan took in the company. If she was surprised to see Gol, she didn't really show it as she asked Mayor: "[Why are you here?]"
"[I need, um- please hide hair and potatoes for me, okay? If I bring hair back, Intor will take. I need to hide it.]"
> Once again Xuan looked at Gol, this time with distrust.
"[She is okay. Gol is a friend,]" Mayor confirmed.
> The girl in question nodded hurriedly and held out the bundle with Mayor's mane in it.
> Xuan took it and began to unwrap it, but Gol clamped her hand over it again. "[No! Don't open. We don't want people to see.]"
> Mayor Mare found herself agreeing with this sentiment wholeheartedly. Upon reflection, she wished she had remembered to do the same with her previous trade. If people saw her giving her mane around, word might get to Intor where it had gone.
> She probably couldn't get it back from the other woman, not after the trade had been completed, but she might be able to bully Xuan into giving it up. Even if she couldn't threaten Xuan herself, Intor might have enough influence with her parents.
"[Yes. Hide, please.]"
> Xuan gave them a single nod and simply stuffed the bundle somewhere in her coat. "[Okay, I'll keep it safe for you. What did you say about potatoes?]"
> The sack was on the ground where Mayor had placed it so she could talk, but now she picked it up again. Xuan took it from her mouth.
"[Um, they- they are...]" Mayor began, but didn't know how to finish the sentence. "[They will be bad soon, okay? Please take out and wash. Oh, bag is Gol's.]"
> At this Xuan opened the package and peered inside. "[Oh, they're going mouldy? They look fine to me.]"
"[I can smell. Mouldy? Yes, I can smell mouldy.]"
> It was another word to add to her vocabulary, if only she would remember it.
> Xuan sniffed at the potatoes too, but shrugged to herself. Mayor's friends already knew that pony noses were a lot sharper than nomad ones, so Xuan didn't argue. "[Okay, I'll wash them and put them in a proper sack. When will you want them?]"
> That was the difficult question, but Mayor had been thinking about it and had a plan.
"[Okay, so- take a few potatoes every day and make stew, okay? No meat stew. I come visit, and I eat some, and you eat some, deal?]"
> It was a small way to repay her kindness by sharing the food. Mayor didn't mind giving Xuan a few potatoes, not after suddenly dumping this potentially problematic burden on her. Intor would be quite mad if she found out where Mayor was hiding these things, the mare had no doubt.
> Xuan looked doubtful and she peered into the sack again. "[I don't want to eat your potatoes. You look like you need them.]"
> At the comment Mayor self-consciously drew the cloak more tightly around herself.
"[It's okay. You have small one, just a little. As pay, okay?]"
> She was still uncertain, but the nomad nodded and extended her hand. Mayor also reached out and they shook on it. "[Deal.]"
"[Thank you. Um, sorry about you sick. I hope it is better tomorrow!]"
> Xuan just shrugged, but she glanced at Gol again, wondering whether she could trust her with the secret. As far as Mayor knew, Xuan still had not told her parents about the pregnancy.
> She was running out of time, too.
> Mayor gave Gol a meaningful look and asked her for a favour:
"[Gol, um- go away a little? Me and Xuan talk, I come after soon!]"
> Luckily the young woman understood and she didn't seem offended by being excluded. She walked a short distance away and stopped, still watching them but probably out of earshot.
> Mayor lowered her voice and Xuan leaned closer to hear.
"[Look- I am here if you want to talk. About- you know. That and your parents. I will try help if I can!]"
> That earned her a grateful smile and Xuan reached out to pat Mayor's head. "[Thanks. That means a lot. I'll be okay.]"
> She was about to leave when Xuan made another comment: "[I like your new hair, by the way. It looks nice.]"
"[Thanks!]"
> Maybe, Mayor thought, Gol hadn't done as bad a job as she had thought. She brushed her muzzle against Xuan's fingers in a sign of both gratitude and goodbye, then hurried to Gol. They had a lot of things to do to appease Intor.
"[Okay, let's go. Pots first, then water?]"
> "[Yes,]" Gol confirmed.

> ~~~~

> The camp was a lot more interesting by the time Mayor and Gol came back with the water. The girl had offered to carry one of the pots, but that would have actually made it harder for Mayor to balance the other one.
> It had taken a bit of explaining, but eventually Gol shrugged and let her do all the work. It wasn't that heavy and Mayor didn't mind at all.
> They passed a number of fires on their way back as families settled down to cook their evening meal. The hunters had returned, Mayor guessed. She could see a number of men doing their evening activities with their wives and mothers helping.
> In some cases that involved butchering small animals and she quickly looked away from those sights. Unfortunately she couldn't escape the smells, but she had grown used to ignoring her nose in the recent past.
> Hisein was back too, as were his two new slaves. Mayor watched with interest as she and Gol approached Intor's tent. The children had red-rimmed eyes and looked particularly disheveled. The boy was quite winded and breathing heavily as he sat by the fire, and the girl was poking at something in the pot.
> They caught sight of her and stared at the pony, but neither approached or said anything. Mayor hoped she would be able to go and check in on them after delivering her water.
> Intor was nowhere to be seen, but there was smoke curling up from the hole in the tent which said that she might be home. It could also be Willow, Mayor reminded herself. Both of those two would be an unwelcome sight, but at the moment she would prefer Intor. At least the woman could show some self-restraint.
> Gol hurried forward to announce their presence while Mayor carefully unloaded the pots by the firepit. She stepped closer and felt a bit of warmth on her legs, but it was faint. Embers, at best.
> Just as she was looking around for some firewood Gol came back with her mother behind her. Intor looked at the pots, nodded to herself, then froze when she spotted Mayor.
> "[What happened to your hair?!]" she demanded.
> There was no point in lying, so Mayor just told the basic truth:
"[I traded for food. I need food.]"
> If anything this just made Intor angrier. "[You eat grass!]" she hissed.
"[Not enough! Grass yes but I need more! Potatoes, yams, roots, milk! More!]"
> "[Pah, it's enough for the donkeys. You're just...]" Intor retorted. She had come closer, but Mayor stood her ground. She could make a good guess at that last word. 'Selfish', most likely, or 'spoiled'.
"[I am not donkey!]" she growled.
> She didn't flinch when Intor reached out and probed at what was left of her mane. She leaned a little to look behind, but Mayor's rump was covered with her cloak. Intor's lips twitched to ask, but then she shook her head a little and decided she already knew. Mayor wouldn't have forgotten the tail.
> Instead she asked: "[Where is your hair? You will give it to me!]"
"[No.]"
> Even though Mayor had been expecting the slap it still surprised her and she jerked her head away a fraction of a second too late. It wasn't particularly hard, but it still stung.
> "[Where?]"
"[No!]"
> She was ready to stand her ground and take a beating over this if she had to. Her survival was at the stake and Mayor had gotten used to physical hardship over the past few months.
> Instead, Intor turned to Gol and pierced the poor girl with one of her stares. "[Do you know? Where is the hair?]"
> Gol gulped and glanced fearfully at Mayor, but she gathered her resolve and shook her head. "[I d-don't know, Mother.]"
> The slap rang out. "[Lies,]", Intor said. "[Tell me.]"
> Mayor was expecting Gol to buckle, but to her surprise the young nomad stood her ground. "[I don't know! I swear I don't!]"
> The ease with which Gol was lying to Intor told Mayor that it certainly wasn't the first time. It didn't surprise her; with the way Intor had been raising her children it was only natural they would have learned to lie to her when they had to.
> Unfortunately Intor didn't believe it. She reached out and grabbed Gol's wrist. "[You will tell me, or I will beat you both until you do.]"
> This was too much for Mayor to see and she bounded forward with a small growl. She pushed herself between the two nomads and reared up to show Intor a flash of her forehooves. No doubt the nomad would know what a determined pony could do with those.
> It worked and Intor released her daughter and took a step back. "[What is this?!]" she demanded.
"[No beating,]" Mayor said. "[Gol not know where my hair! I cut myself and hid it. You will not find it!]"
> Fortunately Mayor was a diplomat and much better at lying than even Gol. It was an unfortunate fact that the life of a politician included more lies than she was comfortable with, but so it was and she would make use of the skill.
> It was hard to tell whether Intor believed it or not, but she relented and took another step back. Mayor relaxed a little, but then the woman said: "[We'll beat you then! Just wait until Willow comes home!]"
> Mayor just shrugged as nonchalantly as she could.
"[Fine. I won't tell. I'm the only who know and I won't tell.]"
> Without even a moment's pause Intor switched her attention back to her daughter. "[Gol, start making dinner. Your brother will be hungry when he comes back. You-]" she pointed at Mayor, "[get nothing since you have your own food anyway!]"
> That was fine and Mayor hadn't really expected anything from them. There was no way Willow would go without meat in his stew, which made anything they would offer her pretty much inedible.
> Intor's earlier comment about eating grass told the mare all she needed about how they had intended to feed her. It was pure luck that she had arranged something for herself before Intor had shaved her and taken Mayor's only means of trade.
> If only the potatoes she had given Xuan would stretch over two weeks, then she could trade some of her tail for more, which would see her through maybe another month. It just *had* to be enough. Spring had to come soon, right?
> The older woman walked away and Gol crouched down beside Mayor and put her hand on her head. "[Thank you! You didn't have to do that!]"
"[I don't want her beating you,]" Mayor said.
> That was another lie, if only by omission. It was true that she didn't want Gol getting hurt, but the primary reason was that Gol would probably spill everything if Intor really put her hand to her. Mayor was sure she herself would remain steadfast, even through a beating, but she couldn't trust Gol to do the same.
> The whole little drama would make her time with the family a little harder, but at least now Mayor had a source of food.
> Gol still wasn't done and she pulled Mayor's head to face her again. "[No, I mean it. I- I t-,]" she swallowed a lump and lowered her gaze before finishing: "[-thank you.]"
"[You are welcome.]"
> "[I have to start cooking,]" Gol said, then looked around for her mother and lowered her voice: "[Sit near me, I'll try and sneak you a few bits, okay?]"
> That was a welcome prospect and Mayor smiled.
"[Thanks!]"
> She nuzzled Gol's fingers, then pulled away. The girl went inside the tent to get what things she needed for the meal and that left Mayor without an actual task for a little bit.
> Intor had returned into the tent and there was no sign of Willow just yet. Surely he wasn't still out hunting, Mayor thought to herself. She knew the young man was foolhardy, but the sky was darkening quickly and the beasts of the night would be coming out soon.
> She put it out of her mind. If Willow got mauled out on the steppe she wouldn't lose much sleep over it. In the meantime she looked at the neighboring tent where Hisein was fiddling with his spear.
> If he had heard her and Intor's argument he wasn't showing it, but the children still kept sneaking glances at the talking pony.
> Mayor decided to go there and at least say hello. It would be the neighborly thing to do, right? She would be back before Intor had really gotten started on the food.

> ~~~~

> She approached slowly and paused when Hisein looked up at her. Their gazes locked and Mayor waited for a sign. The hunter didn't look opposed to her being there and returned his attention to his weapon, so she came closer.
> It was a hard thing for Mayor to do, but she needed to be at least on passable terms with the nomad if she wanted to have any influence at all on his slaves' well-being. She made herself smile and wave.
"[Hi! Can I talk?]"
> Instead of answering her, Hisein spoke sharply to the girl, who was staring slack-jawed at the talking pony. The child cringed away from his upraised hand and hurriedly bent over the pot once again.
> Mayor Mare didn't know quite how to interpret that, so she walked forward until she was at the fire. Hisein didn't seem to care and she was near enough to observe the children.
> The boy had a faint bruise along his jaw. It looked fresh and Mayor couldn't stop wincing in sympathy. Undoubtedly the result of the training Gol mentioned. Mayor wondered what that actually entailed.
> The girl didn't look like she had been beaten, which was a bit of a relief. They both stared at her, but didn't show overt interest out of fear of being reprimanded.
"[Hello. My name is Mayor Mare. What's yours?]"
> They stared at her blankly and the girl faltered in her stirring once more. Mayor was about to warn her when she realized it herself and resumed the monotonous circular motion.
> "[They don't talk like civilized people,]" Hisein explained. As if to show his point, he barked some strange words whose meaning Mayor couldn't even begin to guess. It worked, though, and the boy answered: "Fen Ko." A moment later the girl said: "Ning."
> Mayor didn't understand, so she looked at Hisein with her eyebrows lifted. He shrugged and said: "[Those are their names.]"
"[Oh! Um- I didn't- can you say again?]"
> She hadn't been paying close enough attention and she felt a little guilty about that. The nomad spoke to the children again and they repeated. This time she made sure to remember the sounds.
"[Nice to meet you, uh, Fen Ko and Ning.]"
> Their situation was still horrific, but they didn't look like they were in any immediate danger. At least Mayor hoped so. She debated internally for a moment whether she dared ask before risking it:
"[What you do with them? They are nomads, they shouldn't slaves!]"
> Hisein laughed, a deep, throaty sound which made Mayor flatten her ears. "[They are not one of us. That one, maybe someday,]" he said and pointed his spear at the boy, who flinched out of the way. "[The other one, we'll see. If the traders can give me a good price I'll sell her, otherwise maybe I'll take her as a wife.]"
> That last made Mayor grimace.
"[You can't! Too- too... too *new*!]"
> She didn't know the word for 'young', but hoped Hisein would understand.
> "[In a few years, maybe,]" he said. "[She has to learn our ways first.]"
> Mayor didn't have a lot of experience with how quickly or slowly nomads aged. Would the girl be old enough in a few years? It was hard to tell.
> Even if not, what could she do about it?
> Maybe through Darga, Mayor thought frantically. If she helped her keep her position as chief or, even better, aid Salki in gaining the chieftainship the two might be inclined to listen to some of her advice and requests.
> Until then she simply had to believe that Hisein wasn't lying and wouldn't severely mistreat the children, or at least not more than whatever this 'training' was all about. Mayor resolved to follow them one day and see what it was like.
> Then again, even if she saw exactly what went on, could she do anything about it? Maybe she could get Salki or Darga to intervene, but she would first need to help Darga secure her position. She needed to find something about Intor which could be used to politically disadvantage her.
> If only the woman was skimming some of the communal milk off the top, or stealing, or something! Mayor couldn't believe the woman wasn't doing *anything* objectionable, she would just have to keep her eyes open and catch it.
> Sure as day, Intor wasn't grasping for political power for no reason. She wanted more for herself and her son, and she didn't much mind the methods she used to get it. She had 'corrupt, conniving politician' written all over her.
> It wasn't much, but it was all she could think of doing. Mayor watched the two children for a while longer, then inched closer to the boy. Unfortunately he seemed wary of her and slid back, away from her.
> Mayor looked imploringly at Hisein again.
"[Tell them I am friend, please?]"
> He shrugged to himself and spoke again in that strange, melodic language. The children looked at him, then at Mayor, this time with curiosity. Hisein said something more and the girl hurried away from the leather pot so the hunter could take her place. She offered him the pointy stick she had been using to mix it and Hisein used it to spear a morsel of meat from the stew.
> That would occupy him for a while and Mayor concentrated on the two younglings. She gave them her best, reassuring smile and murmured in Equestrian, so Hisein wouldn't understand her words:
"Don't worry, I'll help you as much as I can, okay? You're going to be alright."
> Her tone and her smile helped and the two came closer to touch her with their small hands. Mayor let them explore her mane and her ears. The little girl jabbered something at her, but there was no way to understand what she was saying.
> After a few moments the two jumped away and Mayor became aware that another person had walked up behind her. It was Gol and she looked uneasy.
> "[You have to come back. Mother said,]" she told her. "[Uh, come help me cook.]" That last bit was accompanied by a quick wink.
> It reminded Mayor of how hungry she was and the day was getting quite late anyway. Before Mayor left she cast a last, imploring look at Hisein.
"[You no hurt them, okay? They only children.]"
> He grunted with his mouth full, swallowed, then pointed the stick at her. There was still a bit of meat on it. "[If they do what they're told I won't have to.]"
> It was probably the best she was likely to get. Mayor was relieved that Hisein wasn't like Willow in that regard. Maybe he was old enough to know better, or maybe being a bully wasn't quite as normal even for nomad men.
> She turned and waited for Gol to begin moving before following her.
> Undoubtedly Intor and Willow would shout at her and demand she give them her mane and tail clippings. It was pure luck that those were safely hidden with Xuan and that Gol seemed to be on her side.
"[No tell Intor about hair, okay? She asks, you say 'I don't know', okay?]"
> Gol reached down to put a hand in Mayor's mane. "[I won't tell her, I promise. She thinks I don't know.]"
"[That is good. Thank you.]"
> The hand in her mane squeezed for a moment, then Gol slipped away and into Intor's tent. That was where she was cooking, Mayor realized. There was nothing outside, not even a fire.
> She took a deep breath and followed. Her first day was over, only fifty-nine to go, she thought to herself.

> ~~~~

> The evening meal went by without incident. Mayor had expected an explosion when Willow learned she had traded her mane away and deprived his family of the proceeds, but that was not what had happened.
> When the young man had come from his hunt, Intor leaned close and murmured something urgent into his ear. It was obviously about Mayor, but she couldn't catch what they were saying even with her superior pony hearing.
> Whatever it was, Willow seemed to agree with his mother and simply sat down by the fire. At that point Gol was nearly done with cooking so the whole family was gathering.
> Mayor had sat with the daughter as they waited, mostly in uncomfortable silence because Intor seemed preoccupied with something and hadn't spoken a single word until Willow's arrival.
> She wondered what the woman was plotting. It either involved Mayor, or it was something to do with camp politics.
> Every now and then, when her mother hadn't been paying attention Gol had slipped Mayor a morsel. A bit of yam, a single root, even a pinch of salt. As a result the mare wasn't ravenously hungry, though she was far from full.
> She couldn't help glancing at the leather pot suspended over the fire, but the soup was already useless to her. It was full of meat.
> Of course the nomads didn't mind and Willow in particular could hardly wait for Gol to say it was ready. He was already playing with his pointed stick.
> Mayor glanced up when Intor sat beside her, but quickly went back to staring at the fire. Part of her wanted to ask about the sleeping arrangements, but on the other hoof it might be better to simply assume she'd stay in the tent and maybe no one would tell her otherwise.
> Outside in the nomad winter, even with plenty of animal fur blankets and her coat, would be harsh. She would catch a cold, which would quickly progress to pneumonia, then death.
> Then again, if they tossed her out Mayor would simply go sleep in Salki and Darga's tent, which might be a preferable arrangement.
> "[Here,]" Intor suddenly said and placed a small, wrinkled yam between Mayor's forehooves.
> For the first few seconds all she could do was stare at it in dumb shock. Gol made a weird noise in her throat, just as surprised as the mare, but neither of them spoke up.
> Several seconds later Mayor looked at Intor, but couldn't read anything on her impassive face. She glanced at Willow, who seemed just as nonplussed.
"[What? Why?]"
> The woman have a small shrug. "[I will not have it said around the camp that we starve you while you work for us. You said grass is not enough.]"
"[Tha- That is right. Grass okay enough for donkey, not enough for pony. Ponies cook, eat different food. Grass not enough.]"
> Intor took this on board and nodded slightly. "[You'll get one vegetable every night. No more because you have traded your hair and bought yourself food, but no less because we do not starve our servants.]"
> Servants. That word made Mayor flatten her ears, but at the same time she felt excited. Servant, not 'beast'. Was it progress? She chose to think of it that way.
"[Thank you.]"
> She nudged the yam closer to the fire so it would cook, then looked at Willow to try and gauge his reaction to all of this. He still didn't betray any emotion, so Mayor figured that must have been what Intor had told him when he had come in.
> Then Mayor caught Gol's gaze and the girl gave her a relieved smile, as if to say: 'my family isn't completely rotten, see?' Mayor gave a slight nod and Gol patted her mane with her hand.
> For a short while the only sound in the tent was chewing and slurping, with an occasional hiss when one of the nomads misjudged how hot a piece of meat was. Mayor kept her ears partially folded to block out the more unpleasant sounds and watched the flames dance under Gol's leather pot.
> Eventually Willow broke the silence: "[Ruslan people have been coming into our hunting ground.]"
> This got Intor's immediate attention and even Gol gasped slightly. Mayor didn't recognize the name, so she opted to remain silent for the moment.
> "[When?]" Intor asked.
> "[Hard to tell. Tracks in the snow. I will take some men on a ... See if we can find them and drive them out.]"
> There were a few words in there Mayor hadn't quite caught and she leaned closer to Gol to whisper.
"[Gol, what does that mean?]" she said and did her best to repeat the sounds.
> The young woman murmured back: "[It's ... You know? Um, like if you go hunting nomads to make them go away. Like fighting with others.]"
> It didn't sound good. It could either mean a battle, or maybe something like 'guarding', Mayor guessed. Willow would take some of his hunters and go guard their lands.
"[Oh. Who is, uh, Ruslan?]"
> Gol's hand gripped her short mane as if trying to give her comfort. "[Don't worry, we fight the Ruslans all the time. Usually no one gets seriously hurt. They keep testing us, looking for weakness.]"
> Some kind of tribal territory dispute, Mayor guessed. She didn't like the idea of people from the camp going off to fight some others and getting killed. As much as they were her captors, Mayor had made a few friendships and she wasn't deaf to suffering.
"[Uh, have you tried, um- Not fighting but talking? Talking with Ruslans?]"
> Her words had been just a tad too loud and Willow answered her before Gol could: "[There is no talking with those sons of ... We will drive them out and teach them a lesson.]"
> Mayor didn't argue, but her ears folded down further in apprehension at Willow's casual tone. She shouldn't really be surprised, not after those traders' wagons and the two children, but she thought she would never get used to such casual discussion of warfare.
> "[Take Meyermer with you,]" Intor said suddenly.
> "[What?!]"
"[What?!]"
> Both she and Willow spoke up at the same time and Gol wrapped her arm around Mayor's neck. It was a source of comfort, however slight.
"[I will not fight your- other nomads!]"
> Intor held up a hand. "[The war party can't take donkeys because the animals get ... and run away. You will carry their things and their food.]"
> Mayor was still shaking her head and she looked to Willow for support. Her jaw dropped when she saw he was actually contemplating it.
"[No!]"
> "[Yes,]" Intor said with finality. "[There is not so much to do around here, this will be more useful. You will go with the men. You do not have to fight, but you will carry their things!]"
> Mayor clicked her mouth shut and tried to come up with a way to tell this woman her suggestion was lunacy.
"[But-]"
> Intor raised her voice: "[Enough! I've decided and that is that.]"
> She would be at Willow's mercy for days, Mayor thought. Who knew what he'd get up to! She gazed fearfully at the young hunter. Her ears were as far back as they would go and she hunched her shoulders as if already feeling the sting of his whip.
> It seemed her fear didn't escape Intor's attention. "[Willow, you will not beat Meyermer during your ... agreed?]"
> The hunter shrugged. "[As long as she does what she's told.]"
> "[Then it is settled,]" Intor concluded with finality. "[It will be good for you to see more of our lands and what it takes to protect them. You'll leave tomorrow.]"
> All Mayor could do was let out a small whimper, deep in her throat. She was about ready to fold in on herself, but Gol touched her ankle. "[Your yam?]" she reminded.
> It was probably already cooked and despite this new predicament Mayor was still hungry. She would need the energy if she was to lug the hunters' gear around for them. She used the edge of her hoof to roll the vegetable back to where it could cool a little.
> As she glanced back up she caught Willow and saw his smirk, which made her swallow.
> Salki and Darga would help! The thought came with a flood of relief. She would hurry to them first thing in the morning and tell them. Surely they wouldn't want Intor to send their valuable slave out of the camp where she could get lost, or stolen, right?
> She was so unnerved that she spoke the first thing which came to her mind, even though she had earlier decided not to mention it:
"[W-Where will I sleep?]"
> Intor glanced at the mare, then around the tent. She shrugged, then addressed her daughter: "[Gol, put down another cot.]"
> At least that much was good news and Mayor relaxed a little.

> ~~~~

> Mayor Mare concentrated on putting one hoof in front of another as she followed in the tracks the nomads before her made. She was still a little stunned.
> Darga had agreed!
> When Mayor had told the Chieftain and Salki what had happened and what Intor was demanding, they both seemed to agree that it was the right thing to do.
> It would do the mare good to see more of the land, Darga had said, and Salki added that by carrying their gear she would help keep the hunters rested in case there was a fight.
> Even worse, Salki was to go with the party!
> The young man had leapt when he learned what Willow was planning and even though Darga looked a little uneasy at the idea she hadn't stopped him! On the one hoof that meant Mayor had another friend in the group - since Buygra was also there - but on the other it meant she might have to watch her friends fight other nomads and maybe get hurt.
> The atmosphere among the party was jovial and eager, something the mare couldn't quite understand. They were going at best to kill some other nomads and at worst to their own deaths, yet they were looking forward to it!
> She shook her head in disbelief for perhaps the thirtieth time since they had started. The nomads were even crazier than both griffins and dragons put together.
> One of them hurried past her and she only recognized Buygra because he slowed to pat the side of her neck in greeting. Mayor kept his eyes on him as he hurried forward to where Willow and his group of friends were walking.
> Hisein was among them. Mayor knew that because he had entrusted Intor with keeping an eye on his two new slaves. The mare hoped that meant most of the task would fall on Gol, who would at least treat the youngsters with a bit more kindness than her mother.
> She glanced around to reassure herself that Salki was still nearby, walking some dozen or so steps behind her. It was hard to catch a glimpse of him because others were in the way, but the nomads didn't walk in a perfect line so she would found her friend.
> He flashed her a smile, or at least Mayor thought she saw him do so. It was hard to tell with the distance and his face blurry in her vision.
> She returned her gaze to the front, partly so she wouldn't trip over something and partly to see why Buygra had ran ahead. He was right next to Willow, who had been put in charge of the expedition by Intor. The two of them were talking about something, but even with the wind blowing in her face Mayor couldn't catch any of it.
> Eventually Willow nodded and Buygra hurried off.
> Away from the group!
> Mayor opened her mouth to ask why, but then closed it since the nomads near her weren't ones she knew well and likely wouldn't pay her any mind.
> Most of them had been bemused when Intor explained she would carry their gear, but some were downright skeptical. One or two didn't trust her and wouldn't relinquish their things to the mare.
> Fine by her, it just meant her burden was a little less.
> She kept watching Buygra for as long as she could distinguish him against the white background. Eventually, though, her eyes began to water from the effort and Mayor looked down at her hooves.
> The going wasn't too hard, not with the way nomads ahead of her had trampled the snow, but the ground wasn't very level and she had to concentrate on every step. It was tiring work, even if her load wasn't overly heavy.
> It was mostly food, tents and spare clothes, with some water bags tied here and there.
> She wished Salki would catch up to her so she at least had someone to talk to, but the young man seemed preoccupied in an animated discussion with an older hunter, one Mayor didn't know.
> There was no real choice but to keep going. So far Willow had mostly ignored her, which Mayor supposed was a good thing. Those nomads who knew her, or at least her reputation, simply ignored her and expected the mare to keep pace. Those who didn't occasionally looked in her direction to make sure she was still there.
>...
> Some hours later, it was hard to tell during the monotonous walk over the unchanging landscape, Mayor looked up when she heard a nomad breathing heavily.
> At first she didn't recognize the blur, but she soon caught up to a familiar young man who was standing still beside the trail.
"Buygra?" she prompted.
> He waved, out of breath for talking, but fell in step just in front of her. He had been running, it looked like, and he was exhausted. She could smell his sweat and worried a little he might catch a cold.
"[Here! Water!]" she called to him.
> Luckily it worked and Buygra stopped so she could catch up to him. There was no way for Mayor to reach one of the waterskins herself, not without throwing her entire load to the ground, but the nomad took one himself.
> The people behind Mayor simply streamed around them, not much interested as Buygra untied the leather bag and drank deeply from it.
> When he was done he dutifully replaced it exactly as it had been, if a little lighter. Mayor felt the lessened weight and shifted her posture a hair to adjust for it.
"[Where did you go?]"
> He reached out and caught her ear between his fingers for a moment. "[Come, I'll tell you as we walk. We should keep moving.]"
> He turned and set off again and she followed, easily matching his pace. The nomads weren't moving all that quickly and she guessed it was so they could conserve their strength in case they needed to fight.
> "[I went ahead to scout,]" Buygra said. "[We're coming up ...]"
> She interrupted because she didn't understand the word.
"[What is that? Uh- you said...]"
> Her imitation was good enough and the young nomad tried to explain. "[Uh, it's like a lot of trees together.]"
> Mayor made her best guess.
"[Forest? Not steppe, trees - forest.]"
> Even if it was not completely correct, it would do for now and Mayor did her best to commit the word to memory.
> "[Yeah,]" Buygra continued, "[We'll be at the forest soon. There are small ... with ..., and then beyond that is Ruslan hunting grounds. I was looking for tracks.]"
"[And?]"
> He was silent for a moment and when he glanced back Mayor could see his face was grim. "[They've been in our hunting grounds. Well, someone has, but probably it was Ruslans. I can't think of any other ... this far north.]"
> There were new words, but Mayor didn't ask for clarification. He had found tracks, which meant Willow would probably want to follow them. There might be a fight, people would get hurt.
> Her ears were as flat as they would go as Mayor imagined these hunters going against some others with their spears and knives. They were very skilled and effective with those, she had seen that first-hoof with the wolves, but the other group would likely be just as proficient.
> What if the Ruslan group was larger? Would they kill all her friends? What would they do with a pony who could almost speak their language?
> Even if she could escape in the confusion with all the gear on her back, Mayor knew she would never find her way back to Equestria. Navigating in this featureless, plain steppe was a skill you had to acquire from birth and she didn't have it.
> If the wolves didn't get her, starvation would. A bad way to go.
> She simply had to hope either that they didn't find the Ruslans, or that Willow's group won. It was a horrifying thought, but less gruesome than the alternatives.
"[Will you fight them- uh, if- if you find Ruslan?]"
> Buygra shrugged. "[Probably. Maybe they will run when they see us, but we have to teach them a lesson. These are our lands.]"
"[Why are they coming into our lands?]"
> The young nomad was quiet for a short while, then he spoke slowly: "[The winter has been hard. Not much food, bad hunting. We had to go further than previous year to find prey. Maybe Ruslan hunting grounds are the same. Maybe they don't have a choice.]"
> It was frustrating and Mayor growled a little under her breath.
"[If they're just hungry, why not help them?! Make friends, share food!]"
> The hunter chuckled at that. "[Oh? Then there is not enough for us. Would you go hungry to feed Roslans? If we share, we may all die. They have to face their own ..., just like we have to face our ... ]"
> The new word, Mayor decided, was probably 'fate', but she didn't try to remember that one. It didn't sound useful in day to day conversation.
> She lowered her head in dismay, but couldn't quite find the flaw in Buygra's logic. She *knew* there had to be one, everything pony in her screamed that he was wrong, but she was tired, hungry and cold, and she had to concentrate on translating his words.
> There would be time to think about it and come up with a good response when they stopped to rest.
> "[Hush now. Save your breath for walking,]" Buygra said. He didn't hurry off and Mayor guessed he had already made his report to Willow before he came to her. She was glad to have his company, even if they walked in silence.
> Once again Mayor turned back to look for Salki. He was closer, but still not close enough to talk to her. At least he was no longer in an animated discussion with that older hunter.
> Maybe he would grow bored and catch up to her and Buygra, she thought.
> As dangerous as this little mission was, Mayor was glad Salki was there with her. At the very least it meant Willow couldn't mistreat her.
> She glanced up at the sky. It was still that uniform gray, but she couldn't find the brighter patch of the sun. Maybe it had already gone down, or was about to, she figured.
> Maybe they wouldn't go very much longer. Surely not even someone as crazy as nomads would want to fight in the dark if they could help it?
> Mayor Mare sighed to herself and tried to ignore her aching thirst and hunger. She would be fed when they stopped, Intor had given Willow specific instructions. Mayor would be cut off from the food she had bought, so he was to give her good meals from the stock she carried for the group.
> Silver lining, the mare thought to herself.

> ~~~~

> Her burden wasn't all that heavy, but the nomads on their long two legs had set quite a brisk pace. Even worse, once Willow realized that night was about to catch them out in the open he increased the pace until the men were nearly running.
> That had forced Mayor to trot with a not-insignificant weight on her back. It would have been hard in the best of times, but with her ever-present hunger it was outright gruelling. By the time the hunters decided to stop Mayor was soaked with sweat and near exhaustion.
> All she wanted to do was flop on her side in the snow, but she understood just how bad an idea that would have been. Her work over the next few days would not be made easier if she caught a cold on their first night out.
> She placed all four hooves a little further apart for extra stability, locked her knees in place and let her head droop as she waited until her breathing could be brought under control again.
> That last dash to what looked like a copse of spindly conifers had taken every last bit of strength. For a few moments just breathing and not having to do anything else was proving enough and Mayor didn't pay any attention to what the hunters around her were doing.
> She became aware of someone beside her only when the load shifted. Luckily her legs were already splayed and she didn't have to catch a new balance as the nomads unloaded her burden.
> A liquid, dribbling sound made her perk up her ears and she looked up at one of the younger nomads who was drinking deeply from a water skin. The mare opened her mouth to ask for some when Salki crouched beside her.
> He had anticipated her need and held the drinking bag for her. After so many months Mayor was quite skilled at taking water like that without spilling anything and she swallowed mouthful after mouthful of the delicious, cold liquid until there was no more.
> "[Willow says there's a stream, you can have more if you want,]" Salki told her. "[This is a good camping spot. The trees will keep us hidden and we can hunt if we run out of food.]"
> She didn't much care, but Mayor still listened. It sounded like important information. As Salki explained she looked around and saw that the thicket of trees was a mere prelude to a larger forest.
> For a moment her heart beat faster as she thought they might be near the portal to Equestria, but she shook her head in dismay when she saw that the land was much too flat.
"[Thank you,]" she said for the water.
> Another nomad came up behind her, but she hardly spared him a glance as he took another bundle off her back. A group of them were pushing sticks into the ground by brute force while some of the younger ones chopped branches off nearby trees.
"[What they doing?]"
> Salki glanced over, then pointed. "[Buygra and those will build a tent for us. The others are gathering ... branches for cots. It will be softer and warmer to sleep.]"
> She understood, despite the few words she didn't know in that sentence.
"[Only one tent?]"
> The young nomad nodded. "[Yes, it's faster this way. Don't worry, you'll sleep inside too. I told Willow.]"
> Mayor inclined her head in gratitude, but just then her stomach growled loudly. Luckily there was a solution in sight and the nomads had unwittingly provided it for her.
"[Salki, the branches. I want- um...]"
> She had to think about her words since she couldn't use her hooves to demonstrate.
"[Bring one branch, please? I will show.]"
> He sprang up and hurried over to where the others had stacked a large pile of freshly-cut pine branches. He took the topmost and came back to Mayer, where he showed it to her with a curious expression.
"[Good. Hold it. No, other way. Yes, bring it here.]"
> She bit off the bright green tip. That was the fresh bud, already growing in anticipation of spring. Mayor knew some of the deer species around Equestria enjoyed those as a delicacy, but from what she could remember they had to be the correct sort of tree.
> These didn't taste nearly as good, but they were more nourishing than dried grass and she relished the crisp taste and sharp texture.
"[Yes. These. More. I can eat. Please?]"
> Salki understood and stuck the branch in the snow for her before straightening up. "[I will go talk with Willow. Maybe Buygra can help me gather some for you. It will save our root vegetables.]"
> He hurried off and Mayor watched after him as some of the other nomads came and took the last of her cargo. Finally she was free.
> The first thing Mayor did was shuffle her animal skin cloak around to allow some air to circulate. The back had gotten stuck to her under the burden and it was quite wet from her sweat.
> She would need to take it off and warm herself by a fire, but until that was ready she decided to keep it, as uncomfortable as it was.
> Luckily the men were making good progress and some already had a fire pit laid with dead branches. One of the older nomads was already setting up some tinder from a pouch around his belt.
> Next to the fire the nomads' tent had already taken shape. It would be only a bit larger than Intor and Willow's, and the mare wondered how all the hunters would fit inside.
> She walked over to inspect, but the men were rushing around her and she had to dodge out of the way. It wasn't long before she decided to wait until they were done.
> Off to one side Willow was apparently in deep conversation with his friend, Husein, undoubtedly discussing their next move.
> If Mayor Mare had her wish they would search in vain for the next day, maybe two, then return home. She didn't much relish the idea of fighting in the snow and the cold, even if some of the men looked eager, especially the younger ones.
> A smell of wood smoke tickled her nose and she saw that the old nomad had lit the fire with his two little sticks. It was a peculiar skill, but one some ponies also knew. She knew the scouts had to learn how to make fire without matches or magic, but she had never bothered to master the skill herself and had quickly forgotten even the little she had leared.
> The space around the fire was mostly empty of hurrying bodies so she headed that way. Warmth would do her good, especially now that she had cooled off from that run and her sweat was starting to turn icy against her hide.
> The hunter glanced up at her and pursed his lips for a moment, then gave her a nod. "[You ran well today. Good job.]"
"[Uh, thank you.]"
> He waved her around the fire. "[Come here. Closer. You're sweating, it's not good to stand in the cold.]"
> She gratefully made her way and stood in the spot he had indicated. Then she realized she didn't really have anything to say, so she just stared at the tiny flames.
> The old man deftly guided the fire. He used the flame to dry a few sticks, which he placed carefully, just so, and began drying some more of the branches. After a minute Mayor felt the first touches of its heat on her nose and ears.
> "[Do you know how to do this? Tend a fire in this snow and cold?]"
> Mayor remembered her failure that night she and Rainy Day had run away. She had found embers and had done everything she could remember, but couldn't get the fire going. It had been autumn and there had been plenty of dry grass around, yet still she had botched it.
> As a result she and Rainy Day had had to run from the wolves. That part of it Mayor could only remember in disjointed fragments, punctuated by strain and exhaustion and fear. She could still hear the howls in her mind, but she couldn't bring up any image of where they had gone or what they had seen.
> Mayor had been sure both she and her pegasus friend would die in a gruesome, brutal, stupid way. Not long after that, they had taken her friend away.
> It felt like a lifetime ago but that wound was still raw. It brought tears to her eyes which she hurriedly blinked away.
"[No. I'm not good at fire,]" she admitted.
> "[Come, I'll teach you,]" the old nomad said and patted his thigh in an invitation to step closer so she could see what he was doing. "[First, feel which way the wind is blowing. You can use the wind so you don't have to blow yourself, it's easier.]"
> Mayor forced thoughts of Rainy Day out of her mind and focused on the lesson. It may well save her life someday.
> She watched as the nomad wet a finger and held it upright. Ponies couldn't do that, but she had learned a similar trick. She licked her nose and turned her head this way and that.
"[Wind blowing that way.]"
> "[Good, good. Now watch closely...]"

> ~~~~

> As the sun went down and darkness began to encroach upon the land the hunters all gathered around the fire.
> Not all, Mayor mentally corrected herself. She had heard a few of them moving around in the dark, guarding from either attack or wild animals, probably both.
> She wondered how they determined who would guard while the others relaxed. Maybe there was a rota, or they just made the most junior among them do the work. This time it was Buygra and another young nomad whose name she didn't know.
> Mayor herself would have preferred to go to sleep, but she was still hungry, even after the sprouts Salki had gathered for her, and she was hoping Willow would remember his mother's instructions to feed her.
> So she sat around the fire with these strange, fierce men, and tried to follow their conversation. It seemed to inevitably stray either to fighting, hunting, or women, the latter usually resulting in roaring laughter.
> She felt excluded, not so much because of the language which she still had some trouble following, but because she couldn't really share in any of their stories. Ponies, as a rule, didn't fight, nor did they hunt.
> Sex was, of course, common ground between their two species, but Mayor didn't really want to talk about that. Even listening to some of the men's stories was making her ears burn.
> That was why the appearance of beer was a relief. One of the hunters brought a water skin from somewhere and untied it with some solemnity. The chatter and laughter around the fire fell silent as he took that first swig, then passed it to the nomad beside him.
> The smell which spread from it was unmistakable and made Mayor lick her lips in anticipation. She followed the precious object's journey around the fire until it came to the old guy next to her. She wondered what he would do.
> She wasn't really one of them, Mayor knew. Some of the present party still considered her nothing more than a clever pack beast.
> Her breath hitched as the old nomad lowered the skin and looked at her. He considered for a moment, then held it out.
> Yes!
> Mayor took it and suddenly became aware that everyone around the fire was staring at her. She had to concentrate to keep her hooves from shaking as she tilted the bag up and let a dribble of flat, stale beer flow into her mouth.
> It tasted horrible, but it was palatable because of her hunger. Beer was essentially grain, after all.
> As she gulped down a couple of mouthfuls Mayor was painfully aware both of the silence and her pounding heartbeat. In her hurry to finish she swallowed quite a bit of air.
> She lowered the water skin and held it up to the next nomad in row. Only then did she see it was Salki, who was watching her with a faint smile.
> He took the beer, but didn't drink it and just gave it to the next hunter.
> Most eyes were still on her.
> She needed to do something before the nomads began to mutter about sharing beer with an animal.
> What could she do in a group of rowdy males? How could she distract them?
> It was a crazy idea and Mayor didn't think about it as she opened her muzzle and let all that extra air out in a loud burp.
"[Beer is good.]"
> The old nomad to her side was the first to start chuckling and a moment later all the hunters were laughing uproariously. She gave a nervous giggle herself, but it turned into a surprised 'eep' as the old hunter slapped her back.
> "[Good one!]" he said, "[they'll be talking about this for a long time.]"
> There was only one hunter who wasn't laughing and Mayor Mare couldn't help spotting him. Willow. He seemed more surprised than angry, but he hadn't joined in the joke. When one of the others imitated Mayor's burp Willow didn't even look.
> Mayor realized her ears were flat and forced them up. The nomads, on the whole, couldn't really read pony expressions that well, but Willow had had more practice than most others and she didn't want to risk it.
> "[What's next? Are you going to eat meat with us?]" one of the hunters sitting opposite the fire from her asked. That earned him another round of laughter.
"[I can't,]" Mayor explained. "[Ponies no eat meat. Beer is good, though.]"
> Thus, slowly, she thought, they would accept her.
> Someone shouted to give her more beer, a proposition Mayor didn't mind in the slightest. The skin with what was left found its way to her once more and she looked around the circle of faces.
"[All?]"
> A few of them nodded and the rest didn't seem to mind, so Mayor lifted the sack up and noisily drank what was left. She made sure to swallow some air again, so that when she put the empty skin down she could repeat that burp.
> It wasn't as impressive as the first time, but it got her just as much laughter and this time she joined in herself. The fumes seemed to go straight up her nose and into her brain.
> She quickly passed through tipsy and into the comfortable, sociable dizziness of inebriation.
> The empty water skin fell from her hoof, but she saw that Salki had picked it up. That was nice of him, littering was bad.
> She burped some more, but quietly this time. The air which came up smelled a lot better than the beer had going down, Mayor couldn't help but notice.
> There hadn't been a lot of it, but surely she had gotten about a meal's worth of grain in liquid form. More than any of the hunters, she remembered. Perhaps that was a sign that things were changing.
> Perhaps it was her mostly empty stomach and the strong alcoholic drink, but Mayor felt more at home in that moment than she could remember ever since Rainy Day had been sold.
> Maybe she could find her place among the nomads, in time. Her thoughts were becoming fuzzy and disjointed as the stuff took effect. She didn't mind. It would take the edge off and perhaps help her forget her messed-up life for a few moments.
> Once the beer was gone, a few of the men had gotten up and dug through the packs for food. There was mostly meat, a lot of it salted, but they also had some vegetables.
> They had tossed a few lumps of raw meat on the fire and passed the salted stuff around as a kind of appetizer. Mayor tried following it around, but looking from one nomad to the other too quickly was making her seriously dizzy.
> The vegetables, now those were more interesting and they moved less. Someone stacked them right near the fire so they could slowly cook.
> That looked promising. It wouldn't be stew, which meant the vegetables wouldn't get tainted by the meat taste. Mayor watched one particularly large tuber and her mouth filled with saliva. She pointed a hoof, barely aware of what she was saying.
"[I want thas one. That one izz mine!]"
> Her tone was firm and self-assured, partly from her long practice as a diplomat but mostly from the alcoholic haze in her mind.
> The proclamation was met with chuckles all around, but no refusal or resentment, which she took as a good sign.
> "[So, uh, Meyermer,]" one of the nomads began. Mayor looked, but couldn't recognize him. "[So, are there any people in your world?]" After a moment's hesitation he added: "[I mean people like us.]"
> She shrugged a little.
"[Su- Shure! Ponies are people! Also um...]"
> She didn't know nearly enough words, so she just switched to Equestrian.
"There's, uh, drag- dragons and minotaurs and, um, whatchacallits. Cat birds."
> They looked at her blankly and a few nomads glanced at one another in confusion.
"You know! Griffins! We got tho- those! It's a, a, it's a busy land, okay?"
> Still nothing.
> She felt a hand grip around her fetlock and looked down to see that Salki was holding her. When she lifted her gaze he wasn't smiling. "[People can't understand you, Meyermer. Speak nomad.]"
"[I don't know nomad words.]"
> He seemed at a loss and the rest of them didn't have any ideas either. Mayor might have, but she was finding it hard to think so she just said the first thing which came to mind.
"[More beer? I want.]"
> There was no laughter this time and the old nomad to her other side said: "[I think you've had enough. Maybe ponies can't hold their beer so well.]"
> That was fine. She felt warm and the edge of her hunger had been blunted a little by the thick drink. She kept her eyes on that large potato in the fire to make sure no one stole it, and settled down to wait.
> After a few more moments of silence the nomads began talking more seriously, about what the next few days might bring. Willow took charge and Mayor did her best to follow the discussion.
> They were going to hunt for supplies, since they didn't bring more than a couple days' provisions. Then they would patrol the forest to the north, all the way to the foothills, then come back.
> If they saw any Ruslan group smaller than theirs, they would attack. If the enemy group was larger, they would follow them in secret to see what they were up to, then come with a larger force some other day.
> Even though she wasn't particularly interested in warfare, Mayor found herself paying close attention. If there were to be fighting she wanted to know about it so she could prepare.
> Then talk shifted to all the atrocities those Ruslans had done to her tribe and Mayor found herself nodding in agreement when some of the younger nomads called for blood.
> If those others were really as bad as the older hunters claimed, they didn't deserve mercy. They had to be stopped.
> Gradually, so slowly that she hadn't even been aware of it happening, Mayor had leaned against Salki as she blinked, sleepily at the flames. She was about ready to check out, exhausted from the combination of the hard march, the sprint at the end, and the debilitating effects of the nomads' strong beer.
> It wasn't a thoroughly unpleasant feeling, however. Sitting around that fire brought back memories from her youth, from excursions not too different from this one.
> Salki's hand around her withers wasn't bad either.
> She woke up from a sort of half-sleep when someone held that potato in front of her nose. It was the old nomad.
"[Thanks.]"
> She took it in her hooves and relished the heat spreading through them. Then she realized she hadn't even asked him his name.
"[Wha- Whazz your name? I am Meyermer.]"
> Too late she realized she had given him the nomad pronunciation of it, but didn't care enough to correct it.
> "[Bakar,]" came the answer.
> She repeated it silently to herself to commit it to memory.
"[Thank you, Bakar.]"
> He patted the side of her neck a few times, then jerked his thumb over his shoulder. "[You should go to sleep. It will be another hard day tomorrow.]"
> She followed the direction and saw that he had pointed at the tent. That was good. They wouldn't make her sleep outside. It was further proof that they were starting to accept her as a person, rather than as a beast of burden.
> She offered the old man one of her best smiles.
"[I will. First I eat.]"
> The potato had cooled just enough so it wouldn't scald her and she bit into it with relish.

> ~~~~

> It hadn't been the most comfortable night of sleep for Mayor Mare, but exhaustion had certainly helped. The nomads weren't the quietest of sleepers and the smell coming from a group of unwashed, meat-eating bodies wasn't the most pleasant on her pony nose either.
> It also didn't help that she and Salki had been delegated to cots right at the entrance and the nomads going in and out had bumped her several times.
> A few of those were people going to relieve themselves, and there had been a couple changes in the guard. She only knew that because Buygra had been one of them and he had come in very cold and murmuring about the warm cot. She didn't mind him snuggling up to her, not after watching over them as they slept.
> All in all it had been a busy night and in a way Mayor was glad when morning had rolled about. It meant she could get up and out of the tent.
> True, she could have done that at any point during the night, but Salki had warned her not to stray too far if she had to go potty in the night. Most predators in these lands were getting increasingly hungry and desperate as the winter dragged on and a lone pony might be too tempting a target, even with a tent of nomad hunters nearby.
> Luckily Mayor hadn't needed to pee, so she had stayed inside. At least it was warm, she told herself. If the hunters had left her outside of the tent she would have had to stand the whole night. Lying in the snow was out of the question.
> As soon as she could see a bit of gray through the crack in the tent flap Mayor got up and slipped outside. Salki, who had been sleeping beside her, murmured something and his hand sought for the lost warmth of her coat, but he didn't wake up. Buygra, on her other side, didn't even stir.
> No one else was up yet and Mayor paused once she was outside to listen for threats. It felt odd to be away form the large nomad camp. For one, it was too quiet. She had gotten used to the constant background noise of all those people living their lives.
> There was nothing nearby, at least insofar as Mayor could tell, and she relaxed. The fire was out, of course, but she could see the circle of dirty snow where they had sat the previous night and the spears stuck into the ground next to the tent's entrance.
> Had it really happened? She had drank beer with them and it looked like the hunters had accepted her. Well, they had laughed at her antics, which was a good first step, she thought.
> Mayor also remembered the old nomad who had taught her how to build a fire even in the cold and the wind. She would have to remember to thank him now that she was sober.
> At least she didn't seem to have a headache this time, the mare thought as she walked a few paces away. She remembered just how dizzy she had been, but that was probably because of the exertion and poor diet, rather than drinking too much.
> Her muscles complained at the exercise and she paused to stretch out her limbs one by one. She was feeling the effects of the previous day's forced march, but it wasn't as bad as she had feared.
> Perhaps she was growing stronger with this nomad lifestyle? Mayor planted her hind hooves and took another step with her front. That allowed her to stretch out her entire body and it made her wince with residual pain.
> Not quite strong enough, at least not for the kind of work these hunters needed, she thought to herself, but definitely sturdier than she had ever been in her life before. She kicked her hind hooves out one by one and most of the pain went away when she started walking again.
> She was soon in deeper snow, unmarred by nomad footsteps, and she stopped there. It was as good a place as any and she gratefully lifted her tail out of the way. The nomads never went far to do their business and she didn't see a reason for herself to go any further.
> Besides, Salki *had* warned her about wild animals.
> It didn't take long and Mayor didn't even look behind her as she returned to the tent. She wondered what to do while she waited, but a faint murmur from inside made her forget that thought.
> Some of the men were waking up, it seemed, so it probably wouldn't be too much longer until they wanted to be on their way. It would mean that they would load her up with their supplies once more.
> She had to eat, otherwise she might not make it to their next campsite.
> The copse of trees nearby looked at once both inviting and scary. She could see several young pines with green shoots at the tips of their branches and her mouth watered at the sight.
> At the same time the small forest looked a look darker than it had any right to. Who knew what sort of wild beasts might be hiding in there.
> Mayor poked her head back into the tent and the murmuring stopped. Two of the older hunters looked at her in surprise, then relaxed when they recognized the pony. Mayor didn't pay them any mind as she nudged Salki with a hoof.
"[Wake up.]"
> He sat straight up and blinked at her without recognition for a few seconds. "[Oh, it's you. I forgot we were on a hunt,]" he finally said.
"[Come with. Come. I eat, come watch if there are animals.]"
> He didn't immediately understand and Mayor let out a small sigh.
"[There are trees, I can eat branches. It is not safe. You said there are animals. Come with me.]"
> One of the other two nomads chuckled at those words and said something which Mayor didn't quite catch, but it sounded like they thought of her as Salki's wife for how demanding she was.
> It made Salki's face redden and he drew a breath to argue, but Mayor didn't want to wait any longer. She was hungry and thirsty and tired from the lack of sleep. She could try and fix two of those problems, but she needed help.
> She reached in and clamped her teeth on the sleeve of Salki's tunic. She dug her hooves into the soft snow and tugged with her earth pony strength.
> Unprepared as he was, the poor boy didn't stand a chance and spilled out of the tent. He gasped when his bare skin touched the snow and he didn't waste any time in scrambling to his feet.
> He glared at her as the two nomads inside laughed out loud. More voices joined them, asking what had happened, but Mayor was already moving away.
"[Come!]" she commanded. "[You can piss and watch for animals while I eat. Bring your spear.]"
> It was apparently too early for him to have fully woken up and Salki didn't argue with her self-assured tone. He grabbed one of the spears stuck in front of the entrance and followed her into the forest.
> They passed the trees where Buygra and the other youths had already picked the branches for their bed and soon came up to the untouched bit of the thicket where Mayor saw that she had correctly identified the blurs. They were indeed some kind of conifers with fresh, green shoots.
"[Here.]"
> Salki watched as she began to nibble the tufts, but after a few moments she heard him walk around. A little later there came the splashing of liquid as he relieved himself, but then he came back and watched her eat.
> "[Those are good?]" he asked, probably to break the silence more out of actual curiosity.
"[Yes.]"
> Mayor paused and looked at the young nomad for a moment.
"[Well, better than grass. More- um... better food.]"
> She didn't know the correct word, but maybe she could get it from Salki.
"[You know- same way meat is more than potato for you. Potato is more than grass. This less than potato, but more than grass.]"
> Salki said a new word and Mayor leaned her head to one side. "[You mean ...? Like how potato in a stew is more ... than plain?]"
"[I think so, yes. It, uh it fills more belly?]"
> "[Yes!]" the nomad confirmed. "[It's more filling.]"
> It could be a useful word, so Mayor repeated it to herself a few times, then went back to nibbling the shoots she could reach. The tree, even though it was young, was already taller than her and the top was inaccessible to her grazing.
> Although, it wasn't inaccessible to Salki, she suddenly realized. The best eating would be near the youngest bits at the top.
"[Here. Grab. Pull down, please?]"
> He obediently took one of the higher branches and bent it down until Mayor could reach it with her mouth. It only took her a second to bite off the green tip and Salki had already pulled on a new bough.
> It was faster and more efficient than what she had been doing and they'd be done sooner, so Mayor concentrated on eating as quickly as she could. She wanted to get as much as possible before the young nomad grew bored and lost interest.
"[Thanks,]" she said when the tree was mostly finished. "[One more?]"
> Salki didn't seem to mind as they made their way to another small tree and repeated the process.
> While they were at it a new set of footsteps approached and Mayor paused in her nibbling to take a look. It was Buygra.
> "[Willow says to shit faster than an old woman. We're leaving,]" he told Salki.
"[He wasn't shitting. He is helping me eat.]"
> Doubtless Buygra could see that and he knew Mayor could eat fresh sprouts from the previous day, but she saw his grin and realized he was just poking fun at Salki. Unfortunately Salki didn't have the fastest wit around and was left opening and closing his mouth as he tried to think of a retort.
> Mayor decided to step to his aid, much as he'd stepped in to help her feed.
"[At least Salki knows to go out for shit. Xuan said you had to throw away the bed.]"
> This made Buygra sputter in shock and Salki turned an incredulous gaze at Mayor. "[What was that?! You never told me! What happened?]"
> The mare shrugged as if it wasn't a big deal, but she was grinning at the bit of gossip she could share.
"[He ate bad meat. Xuan said it was bad but he ate anyway. He had- um... shit like water, you know? Right in the tent.]"
> Salki roared with laughter while Buygra looked away, red in the face and glowering. Mayor suddenly felt she had gone too far and tried to soften the sting.
"[Don't worry, it happens to everyone. Do not eat bad food, okay?]"
> She also gave Salki a surreptitious kick on his shin, which immediately shut him up.
"[That's enough. He was ill. If you laugh more I will tell him when you were ill.]"
> Salki's little fever hadn't been nearly as physical, but the young nomad had been convinced he was going to die and Mayor could embellish the story of his dramatic outbursts into an amusing joke.
> She saw the interested look on Buygra's face, but she shook her head.
"[No, no more jokes,]" she told them both firmly. "[If he laughs come and I will tell you, but not now, okay?]"
> The hunter looked amused, but nodded in acquiescence, while Salki seemed suddenly worried.
> "[Anyway, we have to go,]" Buygra repeated.
> She wasn't quite full, but there was a very pleasant feeling in her belly and Mayor shrugged a little. She remembered Willow saying that they'd stay in the forest for the day, which meant she might be able to eat more when they made camp. It would go a long way toward filling her diet.
> She followed the two nomads back to the camp, where the rest of them had already dismantled the tent and were looking for the pony to load her up.
> It would be another hard day, but at least her muscles didn't hurt too badly. There was an occasional twinge, but having moved around a little had helped a lot.

> ~~~~

> The first indication that something was wrong was the shouting. Mayor Mare had been plodding along with the hunting party's luggage when she heard a commotion up in front.
> She stopped and looked up, but a combination of evening gloom, trees, and nomad bodies blocked her view.
> The hunters streamed past her, some already yelling in response to whatever was happening.
> She lifted a hoof to Salki as he whipped by, but he wasn't paying her any attention.
> In moments Mayor was left alone. She focused her ears up front and tried to make out what was happening through her blurry vision.
> She thought there were more people than there should be. They roared and pushed together in what appeared as a single mass of bodies.
> Were they under attack?
> Confirmation came when she heard a scream of pain, a desperate, agonized yell which ended with a hoarse grunt.
> Before she could stop herself Mayor had taken a few steps back. Her hind hoof found a hole in the snow and she nearly stumbled and lost the balance. Only a desperate side-step saved her from toppling over into the snow.
> She glanced back the way they had come, but there was no one behind her. All the activity was up front.
> More screams and a clatter of wood against wood.
> It was a battle!
"Buck, what do I do?!"
> Mayor kept her voice quiet so the attackers wouldn't hear her, as illogical as that sounded. If her group lost, the winners would undoubtedly discover Mayor. There was no way she could escape and make it back to the camp on her own.
> She had to do something! It sounded as if her friends were getting slaughtered out there!
> Mayor sat heavily on her rump and fiddled with the ropes around her belly. Her hooves weren't precise enough to undo the knots, but she tried anyway, mindless of the cold quickly seeping through the fur on her backside. She thought about shifting so she was sitting on her cloak, but there was no time.
> Her forelegs trembled as she fumbled with the Celestia-damned strings around her barrel.
> If only she could slip a hoof under one of them then she could break it, but the nomads had tied their gear on her back too tightly!
"Come on, come on!"
> Things were quieting down a little up front and Mayor feared the worst. She paused for a moment and held her breath, trying to hear a familiar voice. She thought she caught Willow shouting something, which told her that they weren't all dead yet.
> She went back to her task. The angle was awkward for her and the cold of the snow had seeped into her forehooves and made them numb for such delicate work.
> Finally she managed to wriggle a leg under one of the strings. A strong push and it snapped.
> The luggage on her back sagged, but it did not fall off yet. There were more ropes, but she could shift the bags a little which gave her more slack to work with.
> Two more ropes snapped quickly, no match against her earth pony strength. That last one freed her and Mayor sprang to her hooves, completely oblivious to the snow clinging to her stub of a tail.
> She hurried forward, both anxious to see whether her friends were okay, and at the same time afraid of what she might find.
> There was still yelling, the screams of the wounded and the grunts of effort, but the sound was coming from some distance away.
> She came upon the first of the bodies, sprawled face down in the snow with blood all around him. Mayor reached out a trembling hoof, hesitated, then nudged the nomad. There was no reaction.
> A strong push turned the body on its back and Mayor froze as she stared into those empty eyes.
> Relief. It wasn't someone she knew. Disgust when she saw the gaping cut on his chest. A spear had torn his neck and part of his shoulder open.
> Her stomach lurched and Mayor turned away before she could be sick. Her eyes landed on another body, this one familiar.
"Salki? Buck, please no..."
> Equestrian words weren't strong enough so she slipped into nomad speech as she hurried over.
"[Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck...]"
> She slowed when the blur resolved itself. It was one of her group, but not someone she knew by name. He didn't look injured, except for the way his head looked crumpled in. At least there wasn't any blood.
> Her ear registered a faint moan and Mayor turned that way. More bodies, but one of them was moving his arm!
> She approached cautiously until she saw it was another of Willow's men. An older hunter, though not the one who had taught her about fire the previous night.
"[Are you hurt?!]" she asked him.
> The nomad barked a laugh, which turned into a wheeze. He lifted his tunic and she saw an angry, red wound in his side.
"[Fuck, what do I do?!]"
> She had momentarily forgotten about looking for Salki or Buygra. This was a more immediate concern. Even though Mayor hardly knew the man, she couldn't let him die.
> Luckily he knew what to do and pointed a finger back the way she came. "[Camp... gear,]", he said slowly. "[Bring cloth or leather. Rope...]"
> A bandage was what he needed, but they didn't have anything like that. Mayor nevertheless obeyed and ran back to where she had dumped their cargo. Cloth or some clean leather pieces, she thought to herself.
> She had never been a healer, but she knew the basics of medicine each pony was taught in school. She needed fabric, clean if possible. Unfortunately cloth, real cloth, was rare among these nomads. The closest she had seen were some sacks for vegetables, or small, ornamental, pieces some of the women wore for special occasions.
> The closest and cleanest she could find was a light, animal skin tunic. Mayor grabbed it with her teeth and ran a few steps back to the wounded nomad. A moment later she remembered and returned to grab one of the longer pieces of rope on the ground.
> She caught the sound of distant shouting, but paid it no mind. She would just have to hope her side had won and they'd come back and help her. If they had lost, her efforts wouldn't help much, but she still had to try.
> "[Good. Give me,]" the nomad said. His hand fumbled with his tunic again before he took the piece of hide from her mouth. He pressed it against his side and hissed in pain.
> "[Rope.]"
> She shrugged it off, then lifted it on a hoof toward the man. "[Help me wrap it around!]"
> He clasped one end of it against the makeshift bandage and Mayor hurried to circle him with the other until it was looped around his waist. "[Good. Press here,]" he commanded.
> She laid her hoof on the fabric which was, in her horrified imagination, holding all of his insides. The nomad grabbed her fetlock and tugged. "[Harder! Push!]"
> Mayor increased her pressure and the hunter was able to take his hand away. That allowed him to loop the string around once more and tie it into a knot. As soon as it was in place she gratefully removed her hoof.
> It was splashed with bright red blood and she couldn't take her eyes off it. Only when the nomad spoke up again did she snap out of it.
> "[What's happening? Did we win?]"
> She looked around, but there was no more noise. Her throat constricted and Mayor imagined ugly, cold-eyed enemies creeping up on her to finish the last few survivors of her group.
> A noise caught her ear and she angled it to hear better. Footsteps, coming their way. Footsteps and whimpers of pain.
"[Someone coming!]" she warned.
> The old nomad reached out with his hand until he found his spear. He held it in a white-knuckled grip and grew silent as he, too, listened. "[Distract them. I will kill as many as I can.]"
> They would both die, Mayor knew it for certain. Her blood ran cold and she tried to swallow, but there was no moisture in her mouth.
> She could still run away. She looked at the darkness among the trees. She could get away, maybe the nomads wouldn't follow hoofprints, thinking it was just a donkey or something.
> Except...
> She would die of wolves before she found her way back. She couldn't navigate like these nomads did in their land. She would get lost and eaten in the night. At least with the other nomad group they might pause when they heard her speak. Maybe they would take her as a curious slave.
> A nomad came into view and raised his hand when he saw her. Mayor nearly sagged with relief.
> Salki.
> He was alive. The returning nomads were her group. They had won.
> Her wounded companion saw it too and relaxed his death grip on the spear. "[Good,]" he said. "[You did good. Thank you.]"
> Ha patted her on the back, then stuck the butt end of his weapon in the ground and hauled himself up.
"[Wait! You are hurt! You should-]"
> His hand patted her muzzle shut. "[I'll be fine. It's just a scratch.]"
> Mayor knew he was lying, but she didn't argue. She walked forward to meet Salki, who didn't seem injured. She glanced over the rest of the group and saw they were carrying something.
"[Who is that?!]"
> No one answered her, so Mayor went closer to see.
"[No...]"
> It wasn't good. There was too much blood on the old man. The old man who had been kind to her. "[Bakar fought well,]" Buygra said from beside her. She hadn't even sensed him approach.
"[Is he...?]"
> She didn't say it out loud, but she didn't have to. "[No, but it won't be long.]"
"[No!]" she decided and stomped a hoof. "[We have to take him back. The shaman- Intor- they can help!]"
> The men looked at one another, but it ultimately came down to Willow to answer her. "[We can't carry him all the way.]"
"[Fuck that, I'll carry him!]"
> "[What about the gear and the tent?]" Salki asked.
"[What what you can. Leave if too much. Let's go!]"
> There was some murmuring among the men and a few of them cast speculative glances at Bakar. They were considering it. Finally one of them spoke: "[If we walked without stopping we can be in the camp by sunrise.]"
> Another quickly challenged him: "[Walk through the night?! Are you crazy?]
> It would come down to Willow. Mayor didn't like the idea, but she cast an imploring look at the young nomad.
"[Please? We can't leave him to die!]"
> She half-expected Willow to just scoff and tell her that life among the nomads was hard, but he looked at the old nomad in the snow and hesitated. Was there some respect there? Some sorrow? Maybe the old man had been close with everyone?
> Mayor seized on that crack.
"[Come on! You are leader! Lead! We can save him!]"
> She knew very well that it was not a given, but they at least had to try! Mayor shifted her hooves and turned around.
"[Put him on my back! Do it! Quickly- cloth. Tie him- his wound!]"
> Her disjointed words sparked some action and Buygra hurried off to where their luggage lay in the snow. The others stared quietly at Willow.
> "[The nights are dangerous to travel and we are tired,]" he tried, but his heart was not in it.
"[What are you? A- a- pussy?!]" she used the word she'd heard the nomads say.
> That started another round of murmurs and at long last Willow looked up. "[Okay. We can't do anything for Jamshid and Aghil, but maybe we can save Bakar. We killed six of theirs, I don't think they'll be coming back into our hunting grounds.]"
> The men nodded to one another and went to grab what things they could carry. Buygra had come back and one of the older nomads bent over the injured Bakar.
> All they could do, Mayor knew, was to tie his wounds. She wasn't sure if she could even call it a bandage. She just hoped the healers back in the camp knew more. She didn't like the old man's chances otherwise. He was too quiet and still.
> She stood next to Salki and watched what passed for field medicine among nomads.
"[How many?]"
> "[Hmm?]"
"[How many dead?]"
> Salki reached down to pat her head. "[You heard Willow. Jamshid and Aghil are dead. We thought Rasoul was also dead, but it looks like you fixed him. Them and Bakar.]"
> Two dead and two more injured, one seriously.
"[You, uh, you k-killed six?]"
> Salki nodded and gave her a fierce grin. "[Yeah! Those Ruslan dogs don't know how to fight!]"
> She didn't argue, just thanked her stars and Celestia that they had been lucky.
"[How many were they?]"
> "[Many,]" Salki said without having to think. "[They were waiting for us in ambush, but it failed. It'll teach them to try that again!]"
> Mayor didn't reply. She saw Buygra and the other nomad had done what they could for Bakar and now he was simply left lying in the snow. She hurried over and stood beside his prone form.
"[Up!]" she commanded. "[Lift! Up!]"
> A few of the nearby nomads obeyed and lifted Bakar. They turned him on his belly so he wouldn't slip off, and the old man gave a grunt of pain. Mayor chose to take it as a good sign. He wasn't gone yet.
> In the meantime it looked like the rest of the men were ready. One of them was passing around strips of salted meat and they chewed hurriedly as they loaded their possessions on their shoulders and backs.
> Willow have some last minute instructions, then they began their walk back.
> As she took her first few steps, Mayor felt Bakar's fingers dig into her fur, as if he was trying to hold on.
"Don't worry, I won't let you fall," she told him in Equestrian.
> It'd be a hard way back, but at least they were going away from any more fighting.
> Mayor hadn't seen much, but she had absolutely no desire to witness any more.
> She spared a final glance for the body of one of the hunters as she passed it. Jamshid or Aghil, she didn't know which. She would have to ask Salki later.
> Up ahead she heard Willow talking about their resounding victory and already making plans to bring even more hunters out here in case the Ruslans tried to usurp their hunting grounds once again.
> She shook her head and hoped they wouldn't bring her along the next time. Neither her nor Salki nor Buygra. No one she knew.
> In fact, if Willow wanted a fight that badly, he could come out here on his own and have all the fighting he wanted.
> Still, it was gratifying that he had listened to her and turned back to try and save their wounded. She'd have to analyse what she'd said later and figure out if she could use it again in the future.

> ~~~~

> Her world had shrunk down until it was barely large enough to contain herself, a bit of the snow-covered ground, and the injured nomad on her back.
> For the past few hours all she could think of was the word.
> There was a word for what was happening, but she couldn't, for the life of her, remember it.
> Something to do with walking. Maybe it was a nomad word?
> It gave Mayor something to focus upon so she didn't have to think about the pain. The pain in her throat, as the icy air stabbed like a knife. She shouldn't pant through her mouth, but she also couldn't help it.
> The pain in her back as Bakar seemed to grow heavier and heavier with each passing hour.
> Her legs were little more than stumps of lead, criss-crossed by thin lines of fire.
> She hadn't fully recovered from the previous day's forced march, Mayor Mare knew that, but there was no real choice.
> Bakar was heavier than the things she had carried before, but there was no real choice.
> They had been walking for longer, but there was no real choice.
> Without their tent, if the group didn't reach the camp before night fell... they would just have to keep going until they did, Mayor knew.
> She alternated between hating herself for suggesting it, and hating the hunters for their ill-advised venture.
> Sweat was pouring off her, but at least it helped cool her down.
> Not much further, surely?
> It took a supreme effort of will, but Mayor lifted her head and looked ahead.
> The landscape was brighter than the sky as the snow reflected what little light was left. The other hunters were black shapes upon a field of white. There was nothing on the horizon as far as she could see.
"[Fuck...]"
> It came out as the faintest of whispers. She came to a halt and let her head hang down once more. Her eyes closed as she fought to catch her breath.
> Someone called out beside her. Maybe the others stopped, maybe they didn't, Mayor was beyond caring. She probably wouldn't complain if they all kept going and left her there alone.
> As long as she would get a few minutes to rest.
> Her hind legs buckled and Mayor sat heavily in the snow. It was nice and cool on her haunches and croup.
> She would have laid down, but a hand under her muzzle kept her upright. Something prodded her lips and she let them part. She tasted slightly sour, unwashed leather, followed by a trickle of water, which she swallowed gratefully.
> It dribbled into her mouth and she drank it down, as much as she could get. She had to replace all that sweat somehow.
> Except... after a few moments she pulled herself away and opened her mouth to breathe again.
> Fingers caressed the fur on her muzzle and she thought she recognized Salki's scent. He waited patiently for her panting to wind down a little, then he offered her the water skin again.
> This time she kept sucking at it until the trickle stopped.
"[Thank you...]"
> The hand came back to brush sweat from muzzle and Mayor leaned into its touch. Without conscious thought she poked her tongue out and licked up some of that delicious salt.
> Trudge. Was that the word she had been looking for? Plodding? Suffering?
> No, not that last one. It applied, but she knew there was a more specific term.
> Drudgery. That was probably it. The water helped her think a little.
"[Where?]" she asked.
> "[Not much further,]" Salki answered. "[We're almost there. You made it.]"
> She peered at the horizon once again. Were those fires? Her vision, blurry even under the best of circumstances, was not up to the task. Maybe she should take Salki's word for it.
> The pounding of her heart had lessened somewhat and her throat no longer felt as raw. It would get bad again, as soon as she began to pant, Mayor knew, but for now it was bearable.
> She looked back at the nomad she was carrying. He hadn't made any noise for the past hour or so.
"[Bakar? Is he- is killed?]"
> Salki stood up and went to check. He leaned down, close to Bakar's mouth and listened. He grabbed the old nomad's hand with both of his.
> "[He's alive.]"
> Mayor breathed out a sigh of relief and closed her eyes. Thank Celestia, it hadn't been in vain.
> She turned back to try and catch a glimpse of Bakar's face, but froze when she saw her cloak. It was covered in blood.
> Mayor lifted her foreleg and saw that it, too, was wet and sticky, and appeared dark brown in the dim light.
> She hadn't felt it because of all the sweat.
> They had to hurry. Bakar couldn't have had much more blood left in him, she figured, not with the amount she could see on herself and on her clothes.
> Somehow Mayor got her hind legs under her once again and stood up. Her muscles screamed in protest and she gritted her teeth to keep herself from whimpering in pain. Already her breath was quickening and it made a snorting sound as she forced it through her flaring nostrils.
> "[Come on, I'll help you,]" Salki said and grabbed Bakar's legs. It wasn't much, but every little bit he could take from her would help.
> The weight was slightly less and Mayor thought she could keep walking like that. She took a step, which jostled Bakar on her back, but there was nothing she could do about that.
> The next one was a little smoother.
> At least the path was relatively straight and solid. Mayor glanced ahead and saw that the hunters walked in a single file. They made sure the trail was well trodden for her.
> It proved they cared, at least a little. Perhaps not enough to help her carry the old hunter, but a little.
> Besides, they didn't have a stretcher and there were no tree branches nearby to make one. They had also left most of the tent behind so they could travel light.
> She would have to make sure they had these essential supplies the next time they went out, Mayor thought to herself. Perhaps she would also try to improvise a first aid kit.
> They had bound Bakar's wounds as best they could with their limited resources, and perhaps that would be enough. Some clean linen, or a sharp needle and thread could mean the difference between life and death, though.
> She began to make plans as she walked, mostly to distract herself from how her legs trembled with each step.
> Even this drudgery would end in time, she thought to herself.
> Yeah, that was the word she had been looking for.

> ~~~~

> Mayor Mare woke up with a headache and the stink of old blood in her nose. At first she didn't understand where she was, but when she tried to stretch out a hind leg and was met with a wall of pain she remembered.
> She had stumbled her way to the camp. Once they were in sight of cooking fires, some of the hunters ran ahead to take word and people from the camp came to meet them.
> The nomads lifted Bakar from her back and she had simply... collapsed.
> Her last memory was the feel of hands all around her as they picked her up.
> She had made it.
> Maybe she had saved Bakar's life, or maybe he had died in the camp. She knew he was still alive shortly before they'd arrived, so Mayor was hopeful. It wasn't something she could change, so she stayed put for the moment and focused inward.
> Everything hurt, especially her hind legs, her back and her throat. She was still dressed in her coat and both it, and her, were covered in Bakar's blood, mingled with her own sweat.
> That was the stink she smelled. She would need to wash, but that could wait.
> Mayor looked around herself and saw that she was in a tent. She didn't know which tent, but it might have been Intor's. There was a slightly brighter patch where the flap covered the entrance and she could see a faint, white line around the edge.
> Day, she guessed. Maybe late morning, maybe early afternoon, it was hard to say.
> Her mouth was dry and her eyes were crusty, which told her she had slept for a long while. Her stomach felt like a bottomless hole, too, and her bladder was full. Definitely more than twelve hours, she decided.
> There was no choice, she had to move.
"Bucking idiot nomads and their stupid fighting, and [fuck] Willow for good measure!"
> Swearing helped a little and she got her hooves under her. Front legs were almost okay and Mayor was able to push herself upright.
> The hind were a different story and her attempt to stand up resulted in her falling down with a pained cry. Her muscles twitched and spasmed as she tried to use them.
> Another string of inventive swearing left her muzzle, this time in nomad because Equestrian simply didn't have such graphic words.
> She tried to massage some life into her hind legs.
> The tent flap opened and Gol looked in, eyes wide at the language Mayor was spouting. They watched each other for a few silent moments.
"[Sorry. Hurts.]"
> Her voice sounded strange in her own ears, all raspy and croaky. It reminded Mayor of her urgent need.
"[Water, please.]"
> Gol vanished and the flap fell closed, plunging Mayor in darkness once more. So she had been taken to Intor's tent. She felt like she should have been disappointed they hadn't taken her to Salki and Darga, but on the other hoof Mayor didn't really care, as long as they fed and watered her.
> She could worry about politics later, once she was able to walk.
> The tent brightened up again when Gol returned, but this time Intor came inside with her daughter. Mayor watched the older woman for a few seconds until her view was blocked by the younger.
> She prodded her muzzle with a water skin and Mayor gratefully accepted the crude leather spout.
> Surprisingly quickly they emptied it and Gol stood up. "[More?]" she asked.
"[More.]"
> She was about to hurry outside to get another skin, but her mother caught her arm and pulled her close. The two exchanged some words, too fast and quiet for Mayor to understand, then Intor let her daughter go.
> "[You did good,]" the woman said when they were alone. "[Maybe you saved Bakar's life.]"
"[Is Bakar okay?]"
> Intor shrugged. "[Too soon to tell. The shaman is helping him. He says maybe he'll live, thanks to you.]"
> That sounded like praise! Mayor's eyes opened wide in shock, but she didn't respond while Intor went and rummaged among her things.
> While the woman was looking for whatever it was she needed from the tent, Mayor rolled to her belly once more and pushed herself upright. Again she worked her hind legs underneath her and tried to stand.
> It went a little better this time. It still hurt, and her legs wobbled from the strain, but she could stand, after a fashion. Enough for a short walk outside of the tent to relieve herself, anyway.
> Gol came back at that moment and Mayor let her rump hit the ground again. It could wait a little longer so she could drink first.
> Intor, meanwhile, had found what she needed and she gave Gol a small, clay pot. Mayor glanced at it, but then focused her attention on the water skin instead. She could be curious later.
> Except - as Intor left the tent Gol let the skin drop on the ground. She knelt beside Mayor and untied the string which held the pot closed.
"[What are you doing?]"
> The girl opened the container her mother had given her and stared into it with wide, awe-struck eyes. "[She said you can have it all,]" she whispered.
> Only then did Mayor recognize the scent.
> The pot was about half full of honey!
> She didn't know what to say at first.
> Gol dipped a finger, but the honey was dry and didn't flow. She picked up a piece and held it to Mayor's nose.
> Without thinking, the mare wrapped her tongue around it and swallowed in one motion. She barely even had time to register the beautiful, glorious taste.
"Sweet Celestia..."
> She didn't wait any longer and simply dunked her muzzle into the pot. It was just large enough to accommodate her and Mayor dug her tongue into the delicious honey.
> For a while all that could be heard was her slurping and moaning in delight. She closed her eyes and concentrated on her sense of taste.
> She had almost forgotten what sweet tasted like in the months she had spent with the nomads. She had thought they didn't even have anything sugary!
> It was rare, Mayor realized when she remembered Gol's reverent reaction. Perhaps this was the only pot of honey in the entire camp. Mayor was sure Darga and Salki had no such thing.
> She lapped the honey up, which was getting easier as it melted in her slobber. She was making an absolute mess of her muzzle, but she didn't care. It was just too good to slow down and it filled the empty hole inside her.
> Soon there was almost nothing left. Mayor pulled her face out of the pot and began industriously licking her muzzle clean.
> Meanwhile, Gol scraped up a few remnants on her finger and popped it into her mouth, completely heedless that it was covered in pony saliva.
> The two looked at one another, then they both smiled. It was a rare treat for both of them, it seemed.
> Mayor didn't begrudge the girl a taste and let Gol finish what was left in the pot. She scraped the last bits out with her fingers while the mare reached for the water skin and began untying it with her mouth and hooves.
> The influx of sugar was already lessening the ache in her muscles, too.
> Soon she had the skin open, although she spilled a little, and was sucking it dry.
> Perhaps for the first time in months she felt full, even if it was mostly water and sugar.
> It was energy. It was exactly what she needed.
> Eventually Gol was done and returned the empty pot to her mother's cot. By that time Mayor felt like she could stand, even if her legs still trembled with effort.
"[I need to piss.]"
> Rather than replying, Gol simply held up the tent flap for the mare.
"[Then we go see Bakar, okay? See if he okay.]"
> "[Yeah, sure. Mother said you don't have to do any work today. We- um, we can go to Xuan and have some potatoes.]"
"[Yes. We will. Piss first.]"
> Walking was an entirely new pain, but one Mayor could handle, now that she felt the sugary goodness radiating from her core. A lifetime in Ponyville with its renowned Sugarcube Corner had probably done something to her metabolism, it was the only explanation.
> The fact that Intor had given her something this precious as a reward meant something. It probably meant a whole lot of things, but right at the moment Mayor didn't want to think about it.
> Politics could wait a little. She would figure out the implications later. She would thank the woman later, too.
> She still didn't like her, and she still blamed Intor for selling Rainy Day to traders, but Mayor could be polite and thank the nomad for her valuable gift.
> They probably couldn't be friends, but maybe they could tolerate one another, especially since they had to live together for a while.
> First things first, though. Mayor set off behind the tent to relieve herself, not particularly caring who would see her. She still had her coat anyway, and it covered her rear well enough.

> ~~~~

> The atmosphere in the camp felt different to Mayor. People watched her more closely as she walked past and it felt like something significant had changed.
> She had gotten used to the nomads not paying her much mind as they had gotten used to her presence, but now it seemed as if they had gone back to the beginning. She even saw a few whispering to one another as they noticed her.
> She disregarded it as nerves; she had been away for a few days, after all, and perhaps she was more conscious of eyes after spending all that time away from them. Besides, all her legs hurt and she had to focus on her balance because her muscles didn't respond the way she was used to.
> Every few steps she nearly stumbled and fell as a sudden twinge made her shift a leg when she put weight on it. Luckily it was getting better as she got more exercise and the sugar from her honey treat was helping.
> If Gol noticed that the mare was walking more slowly than usual, she didn't comment.
> They made their careful, fumbling way to Xuan's tent where both she and Buygra were sitting at their outside fire and chatting. They fell silent when they spotted Mayor, but then Buygra grinned widely and beckoned her closer.
> "[Come! Come! Sit with us!]" he told her.
> His wife, in the meantime - could Xuan be considered his wife? Mayor wasn't sure, but she hadn't seen any such ceremony among the nomads. Perhaps the fact they were living in the same tent and the young woman was carrying Buygra's child amounted to the same thing.
> In either case, Xuan had gotten up and slipped inside the tent just as Mayor was settling down on her haunches. Her poor, abused muscles screamed in protest, but quietened when she settled down.
> The heat from the fire was nice, too.
"[Thanks. Um, where Xuan go?]"
> Buygra opened his mouth to reply, but he was preempted by Xuan who emerged out of the tent. She had a couple of potatoes in her hands. "[I thought you might need these after... that,]" she said. "[Buygra told me what happened. You saved Bakar's life.]"
> The praise felt good and went a little way to soothe Mayor's muscle fatigue. It also made her realize what the others were probably whispering about. Mayor had nearly forgotten, but she was still covered in blood and must have been quite a strange sight ambling through the camp.
> Maybe they were commenting on how tired she looked, or how slowly she moved? She hadn't considered her own deed particularly heroic, after all. What was a bit of effort and discomfort to save a life, after all? Even if it was a nomad life, the old hunter had been nice to her.
> She contemplated the potatoes for a moment, trying to decide whether she wanted them or would rather save them for a time her belly wasn't full of sugar. In the end Mayor decide to go with it.
> She would need food to recover from the ordeal and it looked like Intor was coming around, so maybe her feeding situation would improve now.
"[Sure. Thank you.]"
> Xuan put the tubers down at the edge of her fire, where they could slowly cook. Then she revealed a small bag she was holding in her hands and offered it to Mayor. "[Here, this is from me.]"
> The mare looked at it curiously, then reached over to get it. Her foreleg gave a twinge and she almost knocked the pouch out of Xuan's hand.
"[Oh! Sorry! Leg hurts- I walked far, it hurts. Sometimes kick. Sorry.]"
> The young nomad understood and laughed it off. "[I know. Here.]"
> This time the hand-off was successful and Mayor brought the thing to her nose. She immediately smelled what was in it.
"[Salt?! Thank you!]"
> There wasn't very much of it, but the thought of sprinkling it on the potatoes which were cooking in the fire made Mayor's mouth water.
> "[It is only a little. We don't have more.]"
> She was giving away the last of her salt?! Mayor's ears pinned back and she felt her chest swell at this simple, yet meaningful gesture. Xuan and Buygra did not have much, and they had little reason to personally thank Mayor, yet they were still trying to do it.
> It was the last they had and it was one of the most valuable commodities the nomads traded. It took an effort of will, but the mare closed the pouch and held it back out.
"[No, not want your only salt. Here, you need more than me.]"
> The nomad would have none of it and even Buygra reached over to push Mayor's foreleg back. "[I insist,]" Xuan said. "[You helped bring this ... back to me in one piece and I appreciate it. Take it.]"
> Mayor sighed and accepted the gift. It would help with her nutrition and it would make her meal delicious to boot, after all. These people didn't have a whole lot, but she couldn't deny their kindness.
> Well, some of them, at least. Now that she was considered something like an honorary member of the tribe.
> Was she one of them? The thought had come out of nowhere and made Mayor stare at the fire in surprised contemplation.
> They spoke to her as an equal, even if it had taken some doing. Some of them saw her as a friend, and she considered them the same. Technically she was still a slave and she belonged to Salki and Darga, but those two in particular treated her more as family than as a slave.
> Was that what would gradually happen to those two children with Husein?
> Mayor shook her head. All of that fell under the heading of 'politics' and she didn't want to think about that at the moment. It would wait for when she wasn't hurting all over.
> For now, she could enjoy a good, delicious meal.
"[What did you call Buygra?]" Mayor asked.
> That word Xuan had used made her think it was a swear, or at least an insult, but she had said it good-naturedly and Buygra had not really complained. It could be a useful thing to know.
> The young nomad repeated it, but Mayor was no close to understanding. Seeing that, Xuan tried to explain in a different way: "[It is when a donkey fucks a horse. The child looks like donkey, but it's strong like horse.]"
> It was almost unheard of back home, but there were rumours. The bluntness of the description threw her off and Mayor said the word in equestrian:
"Mule?"
> Xuan giggled at the sound and tried to mimic it. "Myu-leh. [I like it. We call it 'mule'.]"
"[Mule]."
> Xuan said the equestrian word a few more times. "[I like how it sounds. Buygra is stubborn like a] myu-leh. Hah!"
> Her husband grumbled a little bit, but he was smiling so Mayor didn't think there were hard feelings.
> "[So, tell me,]" Xuan suddenly switched the topic, "[what was it like? This one-]" she prodded Buygra with a finger, "[-doesn't tell me anything. How was the hunt?]"
> Mayor's eyes went back to the fire as she remembered that chaos and carnage of the battle. It was only a minor skirmish, at least that was what some of the men had said, but to her it was raw and gruesome. Her first exposure to nomad violence.
> Well, their violence toward one another. She had seen what Willow could do that night she had almost gotten eaten by wolves.
> Xuan was watching her expectantly and even Buygra seemed interested. Mayor sighed as she relented under their stares.
"[Well, the first day we only walk, nothing happened...]"

> ~~~~

> After her large and delicious lunch Mayor ambled across the camp to see whether Bakar would survive or not. Gol had left to do her chores shortly after they had sat down with Xuan and Buygra and Mayor enjoyed a bit of freedom from supervision.
> Undoubtedly the tomorrow would bring a return to work, but Intor had granted her a day of rest and she planned to take full advantage of it.
> Every now and then Mayor licked her lips to chase down the last few bits of potato and salt. She had used up half of the bag and had left the rest with Xuan for her next few meals.
> It felt good to indulge at least once in her time with the nomads.
> She nodded to the people she recognized as she weaved between the tents and most of them greeted her, or at least waved back. Her circle of friends was expanding and a talking pony was apparently no longer a surprising sight.
> These people were nothing if not adaptable, Mayor thought to herself. If nothing else, the way they eked out their living in this inhospitable, dangerous land proved it. Perhaps it wasn't all that unusual that they had accepted her, especially once she had proven her worth.
> All that was left to do was to get rid of her status as a slave. Maybe if she somehow became a full member of their tribe they would listen to her and take her back to the portal to Equestria.
> She might have been fitting in, perhaps even making a few friends, but Mayor knew, deep inside, that she did not belong in that world. She longed for home, for her friends and neighbors.
> Even something as mundane and boring as Ponyville's finances filled her heart with sudden nostalgia.
> She was so wrapped up in nostalgia that Mayor nearly walked right past the shaman's tent. It stood a little ways away from the others, near the center of the camp. It seemed the superstitious nomads didn't want to come too close to what they considered magic.
> Mayor hadn't spoken with the shaman much, but she had seen him work and knew for certain that he had no real magic. Even the weakest of Equestria's unicorns would show him up with relative ease.
> The others, however, believed his act and Mayor didn't want to antagonize them by mocking what was essentially their religion. He was also the closest thing to a doctor the nomads had, so that was where they had taken Bakar.
> She stood for a while in front of the tent to gather her resolve and calm her mind. She had to be careful not to let anything about Equestrian magic slip in front of the shaman.
> Salki had told her, once she had convinced the boy that her words were truth, that shaman might take it as an affront to his power and influence if she tried spreading her religion.
> That was absurd, of course; Celestia and Luna were not a religion, they were real! Unfortunately Mayor had no means to really prove it, so she decided to take Salki's advice and wait with the more unbelievable stories until the people trusted her.
> She took a deep breath and pushed into the tent. The shaman looked up.
> Mayor had never learned his name - or perhaps what she thought was the nomad word for 'shaman' was actually the man's name. IT didn't matter, everyone called him that and so would she.
> At the moment he was sitting, cross-legged, beside the fire with a bowl of some kind of stew in his hand. Clay pottery was rare among nomads, but Mayor had seen that some had such things.
> Intor's jar of honey, for example, and now the shaman's bowl. They were probably very valuable artifacts, obtained at large expense from the travelling traders.
> In Equestria foals made pottery like that in school and then promptly threw it away because it was too crude.
> "[What?]" he asked.
> The shaman clearly knew she was sapient and able to speak their language, even though Mayor had not said more than a dozen words to him since she had arrived.
"[I am here for Bakar. Is he alive? Hurt?]"
> The man motioned with his free hand and Mayor noticed another shape across the tent. It was the old hunter, lying on a cot and covered with several fur blankets. They were keeping him warm, which was good.
"[How is he?]"
> The shaman watched the prone figure for a while before replying: "[He will probably live, if he does not get the fever.]"
> Infection, she thought to herself. They were aware that wounds could cause it, but they obviously didn't know about germs, nor how to guard from it. Unfortunately she couldn't help them with that, since she did not have a unicorn, nor something as simple as rubbing alcohol.
> She thought about beer for a moment, but then shook her head. It was too weak and would do more harm than good.
"[You keep the wound clean? Wash wound many times, maybe no fever.]"
> The shaman observed her in silence for a bit and Mayor became uncomfortable. She decided to fully enter the tent, more for something to do than because of the cold. She let the flap close behind her and sat on her haunches at Bakar's side.
> Her legs trembled and the now-familiar ache shot up her cannons, but she ignored it.
> There was still no reply and she looked from Bakar's face to the shaman's.
"[What?]" she asked.
> "[You are covered in blood,]" he commented.
> Mayor suddenly realized that this was so. She had almost forgotten it with her delight at having a good lunch and some free time. She glanced down at her legs and saw that, indeed, her fur was caked with dry blood and her cloak was almost completely covered with it.
"[Yes. I need to wash, no time. I will wash soon. I wanted to see Bakar.]"
> "[You carried him back from the battle? A full day of forced marching?]"
"[Yes?]"
> She wasn't quite sure what he was getting at and leaned her head to one side in curiosity. The shaman gave a single, solitary nod. "[That was good. Not many warriors could do something like that. You are stronger than you look.]"
> Her mouth twitched up into a half-smile from pride, then Mayor simply closed her eyes for a moment and inclined her head as she accepted the compliment. Younger nomads were big on boasting, but she preferred not to.
> "[Tell me: why did you say I must keep Bakar's wound clean?]"
> The mare blinked in shock. Surely, despite the primitive state of their medicine, the nomads knew you had to wash wounds, didn't they? Was he testing her?
"[Otherwise it smell. There is fever. Sick. Death. Keep it clean, more- faster healing.]"
> "Hmm," was all the reply the shaman deigned to give.
> Mayor looked at Bakar again, but all she could tell was that he was sleeping. It looked peaceful and he didn't appear feverish. With luck he would make it, she thought. At least he was out of mortal danger, now that he was no longer losing blood.
> "[Where you come from, such things are known? How to treat wounds?]"
> The politician in Mayor immediately flagged this as a loaded question. Maybe the shaman knew more about Equestria than he was letting on? Mayor glanced around the tent and gave her ears a few random flicks to make it look like she was thinking deeply.
> She wanted to buy herself a few seconds so she could think about how to answer, what to give away. A new, sudden, poignant hope blossomed in her heart. Perhaps if she could convince this man that he could advance his craft with some Equestrian help, he might be willing to take her back, or at least persuade the Chieftain to do so.
"[Yes and no. Some know. Most know the simple: keep clean, watch for fever. Some know much more.]"
> The shaman nodded to himself and stared at the far wall of the tent as he thought it over.
"[We have- uh... how you say it: plants to make wounds better. For sickness.]"
> Unfortunately she didn't know the word for 'medicine', nor did she think the nomads had such a word, so Mayor decided to tempt him with the Equestrian expression:
"Medicine. [We have-] medicine."
> "Med-i-cine," he repeated carefully. "[Your home is a place of powerful magic.]"
> That last was not a question, it was a statement. Did he know something about Equestria already?
"[Yes! You know Equestria?]"
> At that the shaman shook his head. "[Only that the path there is difficult to find. I did not expect Willow to succeed.]"
"[He can take us there! Willow remembers the way!]"
> Mayor had no idea if that was actually true, but she had to believe there was some way back for her. To her dismay, the shaman was already shaking his head.
> "[No, he does not.]"
"[How you know!?]"
> "[I know, because the way to your world only opens when the stars are in the right places. It happened when Willow found you. It will not happen again while I am alive, nor while you are. The way is gone.]"
"[What?! Explain!]"
> Mayor realized she was starting to pant and forced herself to slow her breathing before she passed out. It sounded like the way to Equestria, that portal in the Everfree, wasn't open all the time! It couldn't be.
> She hated that this shaman was so certain about it.
> "[My grandfather told me. Back in his day, more knew the secret. When the stars are right, men can find the special place where the worlds are one. It is possible to cross, but it only remains open for a day. He told me what to watch out for.]"
> He paused for a moment to scoop up more of his stew with his fingers into his mouth. All Mayor could do was stare in impatience: "[When I saw the signs months ago, I told Willow. He was coming of age and wanted a quest to prove himself. I confess: I did not believe the old story was true. I did not expect him to find it.]"
"[What your grandfather say? The way to Equestria, did he say about ponies? When did men go to Equestria? I do not know this!]"
> She was jumbling up her words and her grammar was atrocious, but Mayor didn't care. She needed answers.
> "[Nothing. Grandfather did not tell me what lies beyond the portal, only that there are great riches. That was what Willow was after. I do not know why he returned with you.]"
> Mayor deflated a little bit and lowered her gaze. She stared at the fire as he mind worked furiously. Had there ever been rumours of nomads in Equestria? She had never been a big fan of history, but her job required her to know at least some of it.
> She looked back up at the shaman, who had resumed eating.
"[How long? When? How many winter ago?]"
> The man gave this some thought, then said a few words she couldn't quite parse. At her plaintive look he sighed and put the bowl down so he could show her both hands. "[This many fingers, and this, and this.]" He opened and closed his digits in quick succession and Mayor counted under her breath.
"Over eighty years..." she whispered to herself.
> That grandfather must have been quite old when he died. She couldn't be absolutely sure, but she guessed the shaman was around forty himself.
> "Eii- tee," the shaman repeated her word, then gave her the nomad translation: "[Eighty.]"
> Surely not, Mayor thought. She felt like dropping down to her elbows and begging this nomad that it wasn't true.
> A way home open only every eight decades. In Equestria she might have a slim chance of living that long, on this world she was sure she would never make it.
> It felt like a hole in her chest, as if something dear and precious to her had been torn out along with her heart.
> Everything she had ever known, lost to her.
> There was the hope that the shaman was wrong, that this story about the way only being open sometimes was nothing but superstition.
> She had to go back to that place and see for herself. Maybe he was right and the hole in space was not always open, but surely it came more often than every eighty years.
> The nomad world was sparsely populated, she thought. If the way only worked for a day every year, almost no one would ever find it. Tartarus, if it stayed open for a day every month the chances would be tiny!
> Maybe that was all there was to it?
> She fought back tears which threatened to spill down her muzzle and forced her ears back up.
> She would see for herself, even if it meant camping out by the portal, alone, for a whole year.
> Mayor let out a breath she didn't realize she had been holding. It came a little ragged, but she was already pulling herself together.
> She looked up at the old man.
"[Thank you.]"
> Her heart was not really in it, but she still wanted to be polite. After that she got to her hooves, cast a last, forlorn look at Bakar, then walked to the tent flap.
> Just as she pushed it open and stepped outside the shaman called back after her: "[Meyermer?]"
> She paused and half-turned back into the tent.
> "[Come and tell me of your magical world sometime.]"
"[I will.]"
> At the moment she didn't have a particular desire to speak with any nomad, least of all this charlatan of a fake religion, but he seemed to know more about her way home than anyone else in the camp and Mayor would be extremely foolish to spurn that information.
> She suspected that the full realization that she was stranded hadn't yet hit her completely. Perhaps it was delayed because of shock.
> For so long she had thought about that clearing, that hole in the air, even if it led to the middle of Everfree. Her salvation. She had focused a lot of energy on getting back there.
> Not once had she considered that, even if she got the nomads to take her to that place, the way might be shut.
> She wanted to be alone. She stepped completely out of the tent and saw how dirty her fur was. She needed to wash herself, and her cloak anyway.
> Mayor closed her eyes for a few seconds, took a deep breath, then headed off toward the spring.

> ~~~~

> Mayor Mare stood in the water and watched her reflection. It was hard to see as the stream flowed, and more often than not her gaze slipped to the pebbles on the riverbed, but she saw enough.
> Her face had a large, dark splotch of dried blood, which formed an almost perfect hand print. She didn't remember when it had happened, but those last few hours of walking with Bakar on her back were lost in a fog of memory.
> She should probably wash it off. No wonder the nomads had stared at her and murmured to each other. It was something of a surprise that Xuan and Gol hadn't said anything.
> Or had they?
> Some of the nomads had told her to go wash up, but Mayor had declined until she saw Bakar and made sure he would live.
> Her gaze slipped and she saw a rose tint to the water around her forelegs. It was washing away some of the blood there and Mayor watched the tendrils of color with interest.
> The cloak was probably caked in it, too. She would have to wash it, then somehow take it back to the tents.
> It was cold.
> She was only submerged to her knees and already her legs were almost completely numb. Maybe it felt nice, she decided, because it masked the ache in her muscles. It probably wasn't a good idea to stand in it for very long.
> Except...
> She couldn't make herself move.
> In her mind, she repeated the shaman's words over and over. '[The way only opens when the stars are in the right places.]'
> It was gone.
> The path home would not open while she lived among the nomads.
> An insidious, angry, little thought wormed its way into her consciousness. Not even her children would be able to return.
> She would not have children. There were no ponies on this world, Mayor Mare was pretty certain about that. The nomads had some legends about talking animals, but those were just fiction and they were never equines.
> The only other pony was Rainy Day, and even if she weren't lost to Mayor, she was a mare.
> She could never, ever be a mother.
> Up to this point in her life Mayor had never even seriously thought about it. There had always been time. She had set herself little goals throughout her adolescence and young adulthood.
> She would think about it when she was a little older.
> No, twenty was too young, she wanted to finish her school before seriously considering it.
> Becoming a mayor was too important for her career and she still had time. A few more years before she had to make the decision.
> Ponies could safely give birth well into their thirties and even forty was not unheard of, she still had time. Maybe when she passed that big 'three-o' she would know what she wanted.
> Except- now the choice had been taken away from her.
> Mayor urgently, desperately sought out her own eyes in the reflection, but the water would not stay still and all she saw was a vague outline.
> She lifted a hoof and smacked the place she thought her muzzle was mirrored. All it did was make a splash and ice-cold droplets spattered her face.
"You should have done it," she told mirror self.
> Leaving a family behind would have been heartbreaking, but at least she would know there would be something of hers left in Equestria.
> Now there was nothing. Her friends and colleagues would grieve and then forget her. Her citizens would think of her fondly, Mayor hoped, but ultimately move on with their lives.
> Pretty soon everything that remained of her would be some dusty records in the Town Hall and perhaps an empty grave.
> She closed her eyes against the sudden blur of tears and considered simply lying down and letting the cold water soothe away her hurt.
> It wouldn't take particularly long.
> She was never going home.
> Even if she could make a life for herself among the nomads, she would always be the odd one out. The only talking pony. The oddity, the curiosity, the strange creature.
> Anger toward Willow tried to flare up. He was the one who had torn her from Ponyville, after all. Mayor tried very hard to take that hatred into her heart, to embrace it and let it warm her up. To feel at least *something*.
> It slipped through her hooves, as if washed away by the stream. The cold made her numb outside and inside, it seemed.
> She really should wash and then hurry back to Intor's tent to warm herself up, but Mayor didn't really feel like it.
> "[Are you okay?]"
> The words came out of nowhere and Mayor twirled around in surprise. She hadn't heard Gol approach.
> "[Mother sent me to find you. We were worried. Shaman said you left an hour ago.]"
> Had she stood in the stream for an hour?
> It didn't seem possible.
> The two gazed at one another for a while, then Gol came closer. "[What is wrong? Are you hurt?]"
> Mayor let her head drop so the girl wouldn't see her expression.
"[I am fine.]"
> "[Come out, I'll help you wash and then we can go home.]"
"[No.]"
> There was no reply and Mayor didn't look up. After a while she heard a faint rustling sound, followed by a nearby splash. She saw the shadow of Gol in the water and looked back in surprise.
> The young woman had removed her leather boots and was standing, barefoot in the water.
"[What you doing?! It's cold!]"
> For a moment worry for Gol overrode Mayor's self-pity and she came closer to nudge the girl out.
"[Put boots back on!]"
> Gol resisted her nudge and crouched down. She was standing in the shallow part and the water barely covered her toes. Despite that the edge of her cloak dragged in the stream and Mayor shook her head to herself in exasperation.
"[Why are you stupid? Get out. Listen to me!]"
> In a sudden, surprising move, Gol's hand darted out and caught Mayor around her muzzle. It was not something she had ever expected the young woman to do, so shock held her still for a few precious seconds.
> "[No, you will listen to me!]" she said sternly. "[I can see something is wrong so you will either tell me like a person, or I will tie you like an animal and drag you home.]"
> At that Mayor snorted and jerked her head free. She took several hoofsteps back, until the water splashed against the fluff on her chest. Surely Gol would not follow her out that far.
> "[Please, I'm your friend. You can tell me what is bothering you. Was it something the shaman said?]"
> That was too close a guess and a painful reminder. Mayor winced and looked away.
> Unfortunately Gol was perceptive and she asked as she stood up: "[So it was him. What did he say?]"
> Mayor just shook her head silently.
> Gol splashed closer, but she stopped and hissed through her teeth at the freezing water. She hesitated, then turned back and the mare let out a sigh of relief.
> She didn't know why she was this contrarian, but she didn't want to talk with Gol, nor go back. Not until she worked through her grief on her own.
> Those people were the source of her misery and the fact that she liked some of them wasn't helping!
> "[Fine. We'll do it that way,]" Gol muttered, but it sounded like she had meant it mostly for herself.
> Mayor looked up just in time to see the young nomad rummaging in a bag she had left on the bank. She got out a loop of rope and Mayor flinched in unwelcome surprise. Surely Gol was not being serious?!
> It looked like she was. The girl hiked up her clothes as far as she could, then strode purposefully back into the stream.
> Mayor thought about trying to run up or down the bank, but she knew Gol would be faster and would easily head her off. If she got off the rocky bit, she would flounder in the mud.
> The only other way was swimming, but the water lapping at her barrel was like a chilly knife and Mayor didn't think she could make herself go any deeper.
"[Stop!]"
> There was no use. Gol leapt forward with a mighty splash and Mayor tried to dodge. The confusion of water and noise completely blindsided her to the girl's feint and a moment later the loop landed snugly around her neck.
> She didn't get even a second to react. As if Gol had known she would hit her mark, she yanked on the rope and Mayor had to step forward if she didn't want to plunge into the water.
> Once she was moving, it was over. Maybe it was the absurdity of the whole situation, or her legs were still weak from the day before. Perhaps she had stood in the water too long and her numb hooves could not feel the bottom, or it was simply that the rocks were slippery.
> It felt as if Gol had absolutely no trouble dragging Mayor out of the stream by the rope.
> Not completely out of the stream, though. She was given a brief respite when she was no more than ankle-deep and Mayor took the opportunity to really dig her hooves in and stand her ground.
> Except Gol had stopped pulling and came back. She slid the rope through her hands until she had the mare by an extremely short leash.
> "[Will- will you sand... still?]" the nomad panted.
> Mayor realized that Gol was completely winded. She had dragged her bodily out of the water, but it had cost her. If Mayor wanted, she could pull free and-
> What?
> Go back until she was sitting in the middle of the stream? Wait there and stare at Gol until one of them froze to death?
> What was she even trying to prove? That she could out-stubborn the nomad?
"[I will,]" she said in a weak, defeated voice.
> Her head slumped down again and Mayor began searching for her reflection once more. She didn't pay Gol any attention when the girl untied and removed her coat. The chill air made her hide prickle, but she ignored it.
> "[I'm sorry. The water is cold, so I will be quick, okay?]"
> Mayor barely glanced up and gave Gol a half-hearted shrug.
> Seeing that it would be the best she'd get, Gol scooped a bit of water in her hand and brushed her palm against Mayor's side.
> It was cold, but not exceedingly so. Maybe she was already half-frozen and hardly felt the difference between the inside and the outside?
> She closed her eyes and submitted to whatever misery Gol would put her through. Maybe she'd catch pneumonia or something, and die, and the suffering would end.
> At least she wouldn't be lonely anymore.
> The only pony in all the world.
> She had absolutely no hope of finding Rainy Day ever again, even if the pegasus was by some miracle still alive.
> She stood her ground and tried to control her shivering as Gol methodically washed the blood off her.
> Luckily her coat had protected her for the most part, so it was only her legs, her withers and her croup that needed cleaning. Those and the hand print on her muzzle.
> Mayor only realized that it was almost over when Gol was in front of her and a hand under her chin forced her head up.
> She looked right into the nomad's piercing, gray eyes. Gray, or blue? It was hard to tell and the light was bleeding out of the sky. It would be night soon.
> "[Almost done. Stay still. Close your eyes.]"
> Mayor did as instructed and waited. It took longer and she only understood why when Gol began to brush her hand down her muzzle.
> The girl had held a bit of water in her palm until it warmed a tiny bit.
> It was too much.
> Maybe Willow was to blame for her being there, but most nomads didn't have anything to do with that decision. Some of them were her friends, and this was one of them.
> Gol was standing ankle-deep in the freezing stream, barefoot, and she was warming handfuls of water up so it would be more comfortable when she washed Mayor's face for her.
> She couldn't hold back a sob.
> The hand on her muzzle paused.
"Why?" Mayor wailed. "Why did he have to take me?! I didn't ask for this!"
> Mayor took a ragged breath, which immediately came back as a pained, mournful wail.
"I don't want to be here! I want to go ho- hoooome!"
> Gol cupped Mayor's cheeks with both hands and leaned her forehead against the mare's. "[I know, I know. It's okay. I'm here with you.]"
> Of course the girl couldn't understand what Mayor was saying, but she could clearly see the emotion behind it and was doing her best to console her.
> "[Here, we're almost done. One more handful and then we'll go home, okay? I'll find you something tasty for dinner and you can tell me all about it.]"
> Sobs became hiccups and all Mayor could do was nod her head.
> This time Gol didn't take time to warm the water up and simply splashed a handful on her muzzle. She rubbed the last bits of blood and grime away, then stood up. "[Come on. It's freezing.]"
> Mayor let her head hang down the instant Gol let her go, but she nodded and took a weak, half-step forward.
> She followed the young woman to her things, where Gol sat on her bag and quickly wrapped her makeshift shoes back around her feet. She didn't seem any worse for wear, but Mayor suspected she was simply hiding it.
> Her own hooves were like lumps of lead without any sensation in them. More than once she stumbled against a rock or a clump of snow because she didn't feel her limbs well enough.
> "[Here, it stinks but it's better than freezing,]" Gol said and draped Mayor's coat back around her back. It was a cold piece of animal skin, but it soon caught a bit of warmth around her body.
> Only then did Mayor realize how badly she was shivering.
> Splashing around in the icy water during nomad winter had been a bad idea.
> She sniffled and tried to clear her throat. She attempted to lift a forehoof to wipe her eyes, but couldn't get it more than half way so she let it fall.
> The remnant tears still in her eyes felt like ice, but all she could do was ignore them.
> Mayor was grateful when Gol began to walk. They had to get someplace warm.
> "[Wanna tell me what that was about?]"
"[No.]"
> There was silence for a few steps. "[Maybe it will help if you tell me.]"
"[No.]"
> Gol didn't have a reply for that and they trudged their way through the snow back to the camp. It was not far and the gentle, orange glow of cooking fires looked almost welcoming.
> It promised warmth.
> It also promised less pleasant things, like Intor and Willow. Mayor's breath caught and her ears tried to go even flatter than they already were.
"[No tell Intor about, okay? Ab-About me. Intor and Willow, you will not tell?]"
> At that Gol stopped and twirled around so she could lean down and look Mayor right in the face. There was a tiny smile playing across her lips.
> "[Tell me what's bothering you.]"
"[No!]"
> Gol gave a nonchalant shrug. "[Then I have no choice. I have to tell Mother you're moody and she'll ask you. You won't be able to say no to her.]"
> It was nothing but pure extortion and Mayor stared in disbelief. Surely Gol was not that desperate for a bit of gossip?
> "[I won't tell anyone, I promise.]"
> Maybe that clinched it, or maybe it was the memory of Gol holding freezing water in her hands to warm it up a little so the experience could be a little better for the mare.
> Her eyes filled up with fresh tears when she thought about the whole thing again, but at least this time she didn't start bawling like a foal again.
"[Fine...]"
> Gol grabbed her face again and planted a quick kiss right on Mayor's muzzle, before she jumped back up to her feet and began walking again.
> Mayor stood for a bit longer until she realized she still had the rope around her neck and Gol still held the other end. Then she hurried after her.
"[Shaman tell me no path back home,]" she began and tried to remember his exact words. "[Stars only open when- no, no. Way only open when stars are right. It will be long time.]"
> "[Oh,]" Gol said and glanced back. There was curiosity, but not yet any understanding on her face.
"[I can't go home-]"
> Saying it out loud, even in nomad, was enough to choke her back up and wrench a pained groan from Mayor. She took slow, measured breaths to get herself back under control.
"[I am only pony here...]"
> Gol slowed down until she was walking beside Mayor. She didn't say anything as she reached down and tugged the rope loose so she could slip it off the mare's head.
> Mayor hardly even noticed.
> "[I'm sorry,]" Gol said at last and her hand found its way into Mayor's mane. "[Are you lonely?]"
"[I miss friends, back home. Mother. Father. Friends.]"
> There was more silence, even though the pair had entered the camp proper and were walking among cooking fires.
> Around them nomads talked loudly or laughed uproariously, but it felt as if the two walked in their own bubble of quiet.
> "[You have friends here,]" Gol said at last. "[Xuan, Buygra, Salki.]" She paused for a while, then looked at Mayor and added tentatively: "[Me?]"
> It was all she had. No other ponies, none of her old friends, and no children of her own. She could make some new friends, but it wasn't really a consolation.
"[Yes, but not the same. I want go home!]"
> It was coming again, Mayor could feel the giant bubble of fresh pain welling up from somewhere inside her.
> She hadn't thought of it, not while her immediate survival was in constant danger. Perhaps she had always supposed that it was just a matter of making friends until some nomad would agree to take her back.
> Not once had she imagined the way back might no longer be there.
> All those months of misery and hardship and hunger, and being treated like property were catching up to her now and she was about to cry again.
> Mayor quickened her pace. She couldn't hide it from Gol and she probably couldn't keep it secret from Intor either.
> She hated the fact that Willow would also see her like that, but no one else. It was their tent and she couldn't do anything about it, but she could keep her emotions away from the rest of the camp.
> Her numb hooves stumbled on something on the ground, but Mayor caught herself and increased her pace to a trot. She wanted to be away from prying eyes before she lost what little grip she had.
> Even as she ran sobs were beginning to escape her again.

> ~~~~

> Mayor Mare woke up with a raw, aching throat and a mild headache. Her eyes were gritty and she felt as if her nose was stuffed.
> It had been a rough night and more than once Intor had threatened to toss both her and Gol out. Luckily it looked like she hadn't really meant it, because despite her best efforts Mayor had been unable to stop crying.
> The tears had come and gone in bursts, sometimes lasting mere minutes, other times leaving her sobbing inconsolably for half an hour.
> Throughout it all, Gol had sat by her side and stroked the distraught pony. Nothing worked particularly well, but as the girl alternated between her withers, back and head it made Mayor feel slightly less alone.
> She wished she had some beer left, though. Drinking herself into an alcohol-stupor would have solved some of her immediate problems.
> The feelings would eventually catch back to her, she knew that, but it would have given her some respite and maybe, if she kept herself busy, she could keep the dark thoughts at bay for a while.
> The loss of Equestria was really hitting her hard.
> In the morning, which had come with inexorable slowness, Intor got up with a huff and left. Her admonishments to be quiet had stopped once Gol explained, in whispered words, what exactly was wrong.
> It was pure luck that Willow hadn't slept in the tent that night. Mayor had asked Gol about it, out of sheer desperation for something else to talk about, and the young nomad admitted that her brother was probably spending the night with some girl.
> Apparently he was quite popular in the camp.
> It was a little strange, Mayor found herself thinking. Young women usually didn't have tents of their own and she couldn't imagine Willow and some girl doing it in her father's tent.
> For that matter, she couldn't imagine them being intimate with Intor nearby, either. She briefly wondered where they went.
> Unfortunately even such juicy gossip didn't keep her mind occupied and it only served to remind her of her loss. That was the last coherent thought Mayor remembered before her latest little nap.
> She woke up wretched and miserable, but at least she wasn't weeping for the moment. That was a small plus.
> Mayor was thirsty and her bladder was full to bursting, but she didn't want to move. As soon as she woke up a little more, the bad thoughts would come crashing back and she would spiral into misery once more.
> Maybe, if she tried really hard, she could pretend everything was alright for a few more minutes. She was lying on her side, partially covered by an animal fur blanket, with her head lying on Gol's belly.
> The slow, gentle rise and fall as the nomad breathed was strangely soothing, as was the faint sound of her heartbeat in Mayor's ear. Her forelegs and a bit of her barrel were exposed to the chilly air, but it was not yet cold enough to make her want to move.
> For her part, Gol had her legs under the same blanket and her knee was pressed against Mayor's back. She looked colder than the mare and her hands were lightly gripping her head and pressing her higher against her chest.
> She'd stayed up most of the night to console her.
> Perhaps she was just as big a friend as Salki, Mayor thought. The young man would have done the same, she was sure of it. Although, in his case, he might have fallen asleep earlier, even while Mayor wept quietly.
> Since when had she turned into such a big foal?
> Mayor took a ragged breath and slowly let it go. She resented the situation and she still hated Willow for bringing her into it, but there was probably no use moping about it any more than she had. It wasn't as if she could change it.
> Maybe, she dared to think, the shaman had been wrong and there was a way for her to get back. It would be in-equine to give up hope that quickly.
> She became aware that Gol was awake when her fingers in her mane relaxed and began stroking once more. From her position Mayor couldn't see the girl's face, but her breathing changed and her legs shifted a little.
> There was no more delaying it. She had to get up.
"[Gol?]"
> "Mmm?"
"[Thank you. For- for this night.]"
> There was no response, but Gol's hand found her ear and gave it a slight tug. It was strangely pleasant, a sensation Mayor had never felt before since she never had a pony close enough to touch her like that.
> Doubly so because ponies didn't have fingers, so the only way to mimic that gesture would be to bite her ear and pull. In that regard, nomad hands were infinitely more suited to the task.
> Suddenly the girl spoke up: "[Meyermer?]"
"Mmm?" she repeated exactly as Gol had done a moment prior.
> "[I- uh, when I cut your hair...]" Gol began, but fell silent.
"[Yes?]"
> Gol hesitated some more and her grip on Mayor's ear tightened. There was a slight pop as the young nomad opened her mouth to continue, but in that moment the tent flap was thrown open and Intor peered inside.
> The woman made herself known mainly through her voice, since the white sky behind her nearly blinded Mayor and all she could see was a dark blur. "[Up, you two. You have visitors, and then you have chores! Up!]"
> Gol made a strangled squeak in her throat and sat up, which dislodged Mayor's head from her belly. It was just as well, the mare thought even as she regretted the loss of warmth and closeness. She had to pee urgently.
> She got her hooves under her and stood up, although the motion made her grunt in pain. She still felt the effects of her mad dash with Bakar, and last night's dip in the freezing cold water hadn't done her muscles any favours.
> A low whimper escaped her as her tendons felt like they were simultaneously on fire and about to snap, but Mayor persevered and finally got up on her hooves. She could stand, after a fashion, and the agony in her limbs would subside as she used them.
> Her throat was still raw from her weeping, but that should get better if she could keep herself from further crying.
> "[Yes, mother!]" Gol said as she also climbed to her feet and adjusted her clothes. She had uncovered herself to give Mayor a soft, warm pillow, but now she was wrapping the animal skins around her slender form once again.
> Something Intor had said demanded attention and Mayor leaned her head to one side in puzzlement.
"[Visitors?]"
> Rather than replying, Intor simply pulled out of the tent and went on whatever business she had. No doubt she expected the two to sort it out themselves.
> Her eyes still weren't quite adjusted to how bright it was outside, after the gloomy interior of the tent, but Mayor saw a nomad form standing near the entrance. She peered and tried to identify who it was, but came up blank.
> One of the children, she guessed, but she didn't really know many of them by name or sight. She felt like she had seen this one around the camp, but never spoken with her.
> Yes, it was definitely a youth, perhaps half Gol's age.
> Luckily Gol seemed to know her and approached with an easy, relaxed gait. "[Hi, Saule.]"
> The name was completely new to Mayor, which confirmed her theory that she had never spoken with the young girl. That probably meant she was visiting Gol, so the mare ignored them and turned to walk behind the tent.
> The younger nomad spoke up: "[No, wait. I- I have something. Uh, something for you.]"
> This was entirely unexpected and the mare forgot the pressure in her bladder for a moment as she turned and stared.
"[For me?!]"
> Saule nodded and hurried forward with her hand outstretched. There was a small, leather bag and she held it before her like some kind of an offering. "[Here,]" she said. "[Mom said to give you this.]"
> Mayor was curious and leaned closer to get a better look. She didn't understand why she would be given gifts, but the novelty of it made her forget her troubles for a moment. She sat on her haunches, mindless that her tail was pressed into the muddy ground, and reached out with a hoof to take it.
> The bag was tied securely with a string and Mayor worked on it with her teeth for a moment, before giving up and holding it out it out to Gol for assistance.
"[Please?]"
> Luckily Gol didn't mind and easily untied the simple knot. She pried the opening apart and stared inside. "[Oh, wow. Are you sure? Why are you giving us this?]"
> Unfortunately she held it just a tad too high for Mayor, and the mare had to nuzzle her arm to lower it so she could peer inside.
> It was unsettling.
> The bag was full of dried strips of meat. Mayor recognized the rations some of the hunters had carried with them as their source of food on the march.
"[Why? I not eat meat. Why for me? Why this?]"
> The young nomad looked crestfallen and she lowered her gaze down to her feet. "[Sorry! Mother said! We didn't know what you would like, so Mother said bring this!]"
> Gol caught Mayor's eye, but neither of them were any closer to understanding what it was all about.
"[Yes, but why? Why gift me?]" Mayor asked and spread her forelegs helplessly.
> She was still about to burst and rose to all four hooves.
"[Wait. I need to piss. Wait.]"
> There was no delaying it any longer and she hurried behind the tent. The snow there was already yellow and Mayor suspected it was more than her own contributions. The nomads made sure to do their... well, she called it 'solid business' elsewhere. Some of the camp members were charged with digging holes and later filling them back in.
> The more liquid waste was eliminated wherever there was a convenient space. The reasoning, as far as Mayor could understand, was that it dried up or got washed away when it rained, and even if these spots began to stink, the camp would move relatively soon so it wasn't a problem.
> All of that rushed through her mind as she turned her back to the dirty bit of snow and let loose. She angled her ears forward and heard the new girl explaining to Gol: "[... so she said this is all we can spare and I should take it. Zaur said we shouldn't, but Mother insisted.]"
> More and more mystery. Why some random woman in the camp, one Mayor was sure she hadn't even met before, would insist on taking the mare a gift was beyond her.
> She could hardly stay still until she had finished relieving herself before she hurried back to the two.
"[Why me?]" she asked again as soon as she was back in sight.
> It was Gol who answered and she had a slightly incredulous smile on her. She was fingering the strips of meat as if making sure they were really there.
> "[It's because of Bakar!]" the young woman said. "[Because you saved him. Saule is his granddaughter and her mother, his daughter, wanted to thank you for saving his life.]"
> Once again Mayor's gaze went to the bag.
"[But I can't eat meat.]"
> The young girl looked even more worried. "[Sorry!]" she squeaked again and reached for the bag. "[I'll take it back and Mother will find something else! Sorry!]"
> She couldn't get it because Gol held it out of her grasp. Her eyes on the bag looked especially hungry and she quickly licked her lips. Mayor only saw the tiniest movement of her pink tongue, but she recognized the gesture.
> She couldn't eat it herself, but she knew who could, and she had to repay Gol somehow, both for bringing her home from the stream the previous day and for staying up with her the whole night.
"[No, it is okay. I will take it.]"
> The younger nomad looked relieved and Gol stared at her in surprise. "[B-But you can't eat it!]" she pointed out.
"[It is okay,]" Mayor repeated, "[I know what to do with it.]"
> Now she had Gol's full attention, but before she explained Mayor looked at Saule and inclined her head. "[Um, say your mother 'thank you', okay? And thank you too for bringing. I remember, Saule.]"
> The girl flashed her a brief smile, murmured something unintelligible and darted away. She had almost seemed afraid of the mare, probably because she hadn't interacted with her a whole lot.
> Once they were alone, Gol tied the bag again and held it out to Mayor. "[Here. You will trade it for vegetables, right?]" There was respect for Mayor's shrewdness in there, though she couldn't help cast a last, longing gaze at the bounty of dried meat.
"[No.]"
> "[No?!]" Gol blurted out. "[What then?]"
"[It is yours.]"
> "[What?]"
> Her shock was priceless and the simple act of repaying her kindness made Mayor feel more like a pony than almost anything she had done in the camp before.
> Perhaps Equestria was lost to her, but that didn't mean she stopped being an Equestrian.
"[Yes. You bring me from stream, and help me with hair and chores. You are my friend. It is yours- um, thank you. Thank you for tonight?]"
> Her slightly jumbled explanation, mixed in with gratitude wasn't lost on Gol and the girl looked truly dumbfounded. She reached her hand out a little further, nearly bumping Mayor on the nose with the precious bag.
> "[No, no... I can't. No,]" she said, but hesitated and her eyes darted to the treasure again. Once more the tip of her tongue poked out as she reconsidered.
> Mayor wanted to cement her gift before Gol talked herself out of it.
"[You can give some to Intor,]" she said with grace she didn't quite feel, "[but it is yours. As thank you. Please.]"
> That clinched it and Gol was so overcome with emotion that she had to turn away. Mayor saw she put her free hand up to her face, no doubt to wipe at her eyes, and it warmed her heart to see such gratitude.
> She stepped closer and pressed her muzzle against Gol's thigh.
"[Thank you,]" she said again.
> That done, she went to poke at the outside fire to look for some residual warmth, but the ashes were cold and lifeless. She was aware that she didn't have her coat, because it was dirty with blood and sweat and grime.
"[Want help me wash coat?]" she offered.
> "[I don't-]" Gol's voice sounded a bit more raspy than usual, but she coughed and tried again. "[Okay. I will help before we do our chores. Mother didn't say what to do, anyway.]"
> Mayor wondered if Intor had seen how tired and emotional the two had been and had purposefully not given them any explicit instructions.
> It was gradually getting harder to hate the woman, Mayor had to admit it to herself.
> Maybe they could find some common ground.
"[Okay, I take coat and let's go to stream.]"
> The words made Gol chuckle and she gave Mayor's ear a quick scratch. "[Yes, but no swimming this time, okay?]"
> Her own laughter surprised her and Mayor's heart felt a little lighter. She was not out of the woods yet, and she suspected the bleak despair and sadness would creep back in, especially when she had a few moments of solitude.
> For now, she could immerse herself in the work and forget about her troubles for some hours.
> Maybe it would get easier in time. Maybe she wouldn't feel so raw once she got more used to the idea that she was never going home.
> On the plus side, she thought as she was folding up the stinky piece of animal fur, it looked like more of the camp was starting to regard her as a person. She doubted the nomads would reward a mere donkey for carrying their grandfather out of danger like she had.
> Maybe, once she had more pull in the camp, she could find out more about that portal to Equestria. It was far too early to hope, but perhaps one of the other tribes knew more, even knew another way home.
> After all, she only had the story of one nomad to go on. She could allow herself to be cautiously optimistic.
> Maybe it would keep the bleak despair at hoof's length, at least for a while.

> ~~~~

> Despite her best efforts to keep her thoughts positive, Mayor often found herself staring at some object or a bit of the sky without really seeing it, and thinking about what she couldn't have.
> It was hard, but she felt slightly proud of herself for the fact that she hadn't cried again after the morning. That was possibly thanks to Gol, at least in part.
> The two of them had visited Xuan and Buygra's tent again, though the hunter was out somewhere. They chatted for a while and Mayor gladly accepted Xuan's cooking.
> As the day gradually turned to afternoon, Gol brought them back to Intor's tent so they could get some chores done. Mayor would have been okay taking a break day, but Gol, the dutiful daughter that she was, couldn't leave it alone.
> Luckily it was nothing strenuous and Mayor felt like the woman was trying to spare them. Maybe that was just Intor being nice to Mayor in her strange way.
> The most surprising part of it all was that she had seen neither Salki nor Willow yet. The latter she could live without, but she was starting to miss that intrepid, cheerful chieftain's son.
> Mayor wondered if maybe he had been injured during their battle and he'd simply hidden it from her. He could be hurt, maybe even ill, and she knew nothing about it.
"[Hey, Gol?]" she asked and waited for the girl to look up. "[Can we see Salki?]"
> The young nomad straightened up from the pot of milk and almost absentmindedly caught the jenny by her mane before she could walk off. The creatures were so used to the milking that some of them hardly needed prodding to move.
> "[I don't know,]" Gol replied thoughtfully and pointed at the clay pot she was in the process of filling. "[Maybe when we're done with this. If you carry one, it will only take us one trip.]"
> Mayor focused inward and decided that yes, she could do that. Her muscles still ached and she sometimes jerked a leg uncontrollably as she walked, but the condition had improved over the day as she had warmed up.
"[Okay. Only six more.]"
> Weird, Mayor thought, how milking the donkeys had become a normal thing for her. Maybe she wouldn't be as cavalier if she had to lay her hooves on their teats herself, but just moving them around while Gol did the embarrassing bit of the work was perfectly fine.
> She realized she had been chatting and laughing with the nomad girl while they did what any Equestrian court would call 'molestation' at best.
> Different world, different animals, different rules, she supposed. These creatures could not think, that much was obvious. For that matter, they didn't know any shame themselves.
> Mayor had seen one of the more boisterous jacks attempting to mount one of the females earlier until he got a swift kick in the muzzle for his presumption. Before Mayor could avert her eyes she had gotten a very good look at his dangling 'tool'.
> The memory still made her blush, but the donkey herd had long forgotten the incident and the offending jack was milling mindlessly with the other males while the females were milked. Mayor thought that the jenny herself had forgotten it as well.
> Other than a small bit of braying there had been no commotion and even that had died down. The nomads had glanced over, but quickly saw that there was no trouble which might need their intervention.
> Mayor returned to the present when Gol called her name: "[Bring the next one!]"
> She blushed at the fact that she had gotten so lost in her own thoughts again that Gol had had to call her out of it. At least, she realized, this time she hadn't gone to some dark, sad place.
> She didn't know if this new direction was necessarily better, though...
"[Yes. Sorry!]"
>...
> It wasn't much later that the two were done and had delivered the clay pots of milk to Intor. Gol spoke briefly with her mother and they both looked at the mare, but their murmurs were too quiet for Mayor to catch anything of what they were saying.
> Whatever it was, it didn't seem to really affect her because Gol just walked back to Mayor and absentmindedly patted her head as she passed. "[Come on, let's go see Salki.]"
> She couldn't be absolutely sure, but Mayor had a feeling that the girl sounded... eager?
> There was no chance to inspect her face or ask about it as the two hurried across the busy nomad camp. Many people were out, going about their various business. Now that Mayor was paying attention to it, she could feel the change in the air.
> It was as if everyone was waiting for something to happen. Spring? It was her best guess. Now that she thought of it, the air wasn't quite as freezing as it had been only a week ago, and there hadn't been fresh snow in even longer.
"[Gol... Gol!]" Mayor gasped a little out of breath.
> The young nomad stopped and turned back. "[What is it?]"
"[Is it spring? It is warm and, uh, no snow?]"
> The girl looked around at the white-covered fields beyond the camp, then transferred her gaze back to Mayor with slightly raised eyebrows. Mayor didn't wait for her to speak.
"[I mean no snow, uh, rained! No sky-snow! Yes, snow on ground, but that old. No new snow today. No yesterday. No new snow many days!]"
> That got through to her and Gol's slightly confused expression cleared up. She looked around again and stared at the sky for a while. "[Yes, the days are longer. It will be spring soon. You are right.]"
> Perhaps that made Mayor feel slightly better. Springtime was a pony favourite and that included herself. There would be fresh grass, new flowers and warmer days. She would be able to leave her heavy, smelly cloak in the tent and she could once again go with the women to find roots and berries.
> Compared to this lean winter, it would almost be a time of plenty, Mayor thought, and her heartbeat quickened in anticipation.
"[I'm glad.]"
> Gol didn't wait anymore and turned to continue their journey. They were nearly there and Mayor soon spotted the familiar tent. There was no sight of the young nomad, but she saw Darga standing outside and talking with one of the older men.
> "[... will not fight in the snow, it's not good,]" the chieftain was saying. The other nomad started to say something, but Darga just cut him off: "[No, I won't have it. Let them come in our lands, there's nothing useful in winter. We will drive them out in spring!]"
> It looked like the man would argue some more, but Darga caught sight of Mayor and waved the man away. "[We will speak of this later,]" she told him.
> He cast and ugly look at the mare and the young nomad accompanying her before scampering off in a huff.
> Gol was the first to speak up, her voice squeaky and unsteady out of fear: "[Sorry, Chieftain! We didn't mean to intrude-]"
> "[It's okay. What do you want?] Darga asked, interrupting her.
> "[Umm...]"
"[We are looking for Salki.]"
> Darga's attention shifted from the girl to the mare and she blinked in surprise, although she didn't show it in any other way. "[You don't know? Salki and some others have gone to deal with the traders and bring them here. They will be back before nightfall.]"
"[Traders?!]" Mayor exclaimed.
> If there were more traders- maybe they were the same ones as last time! Maybe they still had Rainy Day with them!
> Mayor would promise Darga every single hair she would ever grow in payment if she got her friend back. Tartarus, she would promise the same to Intor.
> The Chieftain noticed her excitement, but didn't understand it and she gazed at Mayor with some curiosity. "[Why is that surprising? They have to trade to survive. We need things. It is worth the trip.]"
> Mayor was shaking her head.
"Rainy Day!"
> There was no recognition and neither Darga nor Gol seemed to know the words.
> Mayor stomped a hoof in frustration and flattened her ears.
"[My friend! The other pony! She was sold to traders, we get her back!]"
> Darga quickly realized what the mare was getting at, but her expression grew somber and she was already shaking her head. "[They probably aren't the same traders. Even if they are, they probably do not have your friend any longer,]" the Chieftain explained.
> Her tone was soft and conciliatory, but Mayor was still an emotional wreck and wouldn't hear it. She jerked her head wildly left and right in a denial.
"[No! They have her! They bring her back! Get her back!]"
> Her emotions got the best of her and she felt fresh, hot tears begin to drip down her muzzle once more. Her vision grew blurry and the old, buried but not forgotten pain blossomed again in her heart.
> It met the new pain, still so very fresh on Mayor's mind and they combined into something transcendent.
> Mayor suddenly realized she was lying on her belly in the cold mud, but she didn't care. All she cared about was making them understand.
"She's the only other pony in this whole bucking world!! She is a citizen of Ponyville - *my citizen* and I let her go!"
> Deep, halting sobs were once again racking her body as Mayor fought for breath.
"She's my friend! We- we're getting her buh- baaaack!"
> It ended in an uncontrollable wail.
> Mayor hadn't realized that she'd switched back to Equestrian in her grief, but it wasn't hard for Darga and Gol to guess what the mare was saying. After a few moments Gol was petting her head and tried to pull her upright, out of the wet, cold mud, but she wasn't having any luck.
> She looked pleadingly at Darga and tried to explain what had been happening with Mayor over the past few days. At last the Chieftain rolled her eyes, tossed the flap of her tent open and walked to Mayor's other side.
> Between the two of them they lifted the still-weeping mare and carried her inside.

> ~~~~

> Once again Mayor was mortified for losing her cool in front of the nomads. She told herself it had just been Darga and Gol, but in truth any number of the people could have been watching.
> Luckily this latest outburst hadn't lasted very long and the mare soon pulled herself together.
"[Sorry,]" she told Gol who was sitting by her side.
> Darga was at the tent entrance, talking with someone and glanced back at the sound of Mayor's voice.
> "[Are you okay?]" Gol asked. "[What happened?]"
> The words were bitter in her mouth but Mayor Mare said them anyway.
"[Traders took- uh] Rainy Day. [My friend.]"
> Gol's eyes widened in recognition and she looked away in sudden shame. She knew exactly what had happened to Rainy Day and perhaps she had even been complicit in it. Mayor shook her head, flattened her ears and pushed that thought away before she started to hate Gol too.
> The traders were coming back! 
> Darga had said they probably weren't the same people who had taken her pegasus friend, but that still meant there was a chance they were. Maybe she could hope.
"[Let's go. I have to get hair from Xuan.]"
> It very likely wouldn't be enough, but Mayor had to try. She had to do everything in her power to get Rainy Day, back on the off chance that these traders were the right ones and that they had the pony with them by some miracle.
> "[What?!]" Gol exclaimed as she shot to her feet. "[N-No! You can't!]"
> This, of all things, was such an unexpected thing for the girl to say that Mayor froze mid-step and looked at her in shock.
"[Why not?]"
> There was a moment of hesitation, then Gol pushed out of the tent ahead of Mayor. "[You can't, because, because what if these aren't the right people. If you take hair from Xuan someone could see and they would tell. Mother would find out!]"
> The scenario sounded far-fetched and all Mayor's instincts screamed at her that Gol didn't want her to get the mane clippings for a different reason. She followed the nomad outside and had to hurry to catch up to her.
"[Hey, stop. Slow. Why running?]"
> There was no reply so Mayor ran out in front of the nomad girl and placed herself in her path. That finally got her to stop, but Gol still didn't meet Mayor's gaze.
"[Why? Why not take hair from Xuan?]"
> Gol sighed and crouched down so she could run her fingers through Mayor's mane, short as it was. "[Because,]" she answered slowly as she looked into the distance, "[I don't want Mother to see it and take it away. You know how she is.]"
> Mayor opened her mouth to argue, but Gol smoothly shifted her grip to her muzzle and gently held it shut as she continued: "[Look. Wait until the traders come. Chieftain said they probably won't be the same ones anyway. Even if they are, they probably won't have your friend. If they do, you can get your hair later.]"
> It was a reasonable suggestion and it would reduce the risk of someone spotting that Xuan was holding on to Mayor's only source of wealth. The mare heaved a sigh and relented.
"[Okay.]"
> Gol smiled at her in relief and shifted her grip again, this time to give one of her ears a scratch. It was pleasant and Mayor closed her eyes for a moment to enjoy the simple affection.
"[If they don't have- my friend, maybe they'll know something. Maybe we can find out where she was taken. Get her back?]"
> This got her nomad companion thinking and after a while the girl gave a single nod. "[Yes, we can ask. I'll help you.]"
> Mayor briefly pressed her muzzle into Gol's palm.
"[Thank you.]"
> "[Let's go find Mother and see if she has more chores. She will get angry if we don't do anything all day.]"
> Mayor didn't comment on the fact that they had already gone to the stream for water and milked the donkey herd that day.
"[Okay.]"

> ~~~~

> It wasn't the same traders. Despite what both Darga and Gol had told her, Mayor Mare had been holding on to that irrational hope. More than once she had found herself daydreaming that sweet reunion with her lost friend.
> By the time the trading caravan was in sight the poor mare was in a near frenzy of anticipation. She could not stay in one place for more than a minute before she was up and nervously walking.
> For a while she had sat with Xuan and Buygra, but she couldn't concentrate on whatever they were talking about. Then she had tried helping Gol mend some of the stitched animal skin clothes, but Mayor was far too impatient for such fiddly work.
> She went around to see some of her other friends, but they were either busy or out of the camp, so Mayor invariably ended back at Intor's tent with nothing much to do.
> Her hooves wouldn't be still and her ears kept flicking this way and that as she thought she heard some new, unusual sounds.
> At long last she heard a commotion and ran off to see for herself.
> Salki was in the center of it, a pleased, almost smug grin on his face as he headed the line of strangers and their beasts.
> The traders used donkeys, Mayor saw, to carry their wares. The creatures were hung with various bags and some of them carried wooden casks. Even the people had heavy-looking packs on their backs.
> There was no sign of a gray-blue pegasus, which was the first blow. The second came when she had finally made her way to Salki and explained her question to him.
> The boy's eyes grew somber and he shook his head sadly. "[These are not the same traders,]" he told her and reached out a hand to stroke her withers.
> She had refused to believe him at first and shook free. She wouldn't accept it! He was wrong!
> For the next half hour Mayor ran up and down the trader line, trying to remember at least one of the faces from their last visit. She had hoped that seeing them would jog her memory, that one of the strangers would be familiar to her.
> It hadn't worked out. Furthermore, the surprise and shocked stares at her had proven to Mayor that these people had never seen a pony before.
> They kept asking the camp nomads about her and didn't seem to believe the explanations. They obviously thought someone was joking with them, at least until the moment when Mayor spoke.
> She tried her best to explain, to ask them about a winged pony and had they heard of such a thing from other traders. Unfortunately the sheer novelty of a talking mare got in the way of their answers.
> Even if someone was willing to try and remember, another came along loudly asking about her.
> In the end Mayor stomped off in disgust in search of Salki. He was the chieftain's son, he could make them pay attention!
> She ran into Gol instead.
> "[There you are! I've been looking for you. Mother-]"
> Mayor didn't have time for Intor's shenanigans and simply pushed past the girl.
"[I no care. Tell her chores tomorrow!]"
> The young nomad simply grabbed her tail, forcing Mayor to stop. She looked back in shock.
> "[Listen to me, you little idiot,]" Gol almost growled, "[she said I can help you ask around for your friend! If you don't want my help, I'll go back.]"
> Mayor felt chagrined and let her ears fold down in shame. Gol recognized the expression and let her tail slip free, so Mayor could turn back. While she was looking for words she pressed her muzzle against Gol's fingertips.
"[Sorry. It was- they don't listen to me. It made me- how do you say almost-mad? Not mad, but not want to talk with them, but almost mad?]"
> It was a bit of a confused explanation and the word Gol gave her could have meant anything. Mayor still filed it as 'annoying', but she would ask Salki later to confirm, if she remembered it.
"[Annoy, yes. They no listen and I get annoy!]"
> Gol gave her head a pat then pushed her way through the crowd back to where the traders were starting to show their wares. Now that it was time for business, it looked like Mayor was no longer as interesting.
> Either that, or they had had some time to get used to the idea of a talking pony. Whatever the case, Gol brought them to one of the traders who had set up a small, wooden table.
> He was displaying animal skins, which Mayor thought was a stupid idea until she took a closer look. Those were not donkeys or some wild animal, like a wolf. The coats were sewn together from many smaller pelts.
> In her mind's eye she saw dozens of small woodlands creatures in each of those garments and her stomach nearly turned.
> She had thought she was used to the idea, but this new thing was just grotesque! Mayor looked away, but not before she saw the eager look in Gol's eyes. That was obviously an item of great prestige.
> The closest to that rapt, hungry stare she had seen was when Miss Rarity put up one of her new creations on display in the windows of the Carousel Boutique. More than once Mayor had joked with her staff that they might need to install a surreptitious grate under that window to catch the drool.
> Now one of her rare friends in this world was gazing with that same adoration at the result of slaughter and butchery.
> She wanted to leave, but Gol noticed her unease and put a hand on her neck. "[Wait, I will ask.]"
> True to her word, the girl did address the trader and asked for news about a talking pony.
> Of course the man's eyes went to Mayor and he shrugged and shook his head. She was the first one he'd seen in his life. He had never heard of such a thing either.
> Mayor's ears fell a little and she broke free from Gol's touch and left while the girl thanked the man and cast one last, longing glace at his wares.
> They moved down the line. Some of the traders held their goods, others set them on the ground. A few simply unwrapped the burdens their donkeys were carrying without even unloading it.
> The creatures were obviously used to such treatment and simply stood there, passively, while nomads milled around and poked and prodded at their luggage. Here and there one of them brayed or shuffled at rough treatment, but a slap of a hand quietened it down.
> Mayor and Gol went from trader to trader, sometimes having to wait their turn, other times interrupting whatever deal was happening when the newcomers caught sight of the mare.
> The news was always the same: Not one of them knew of any stories of a talking pony. With each blow Mayor's ears hung lower and she had to fight back fresh tears.
> Darga had been right. She shouldn't have gotten her hopes up. She wouldn't get any word of Rainy Day, not from some random trading caravan.
> They weren't even done when she'd had enough and just wanted to be away. She took Gol's sleeve in her mouth and tugged to get the young nomad's attention.
"[Let's go home. There is nothing. I can't more of this!]"
> The girl gave this some thought and glanced around. Some of the camp nomads were building a large fire and it looked like the night would turn to celebration with the influx of goods, especially beer. That was always a popular item.
> At long last, however, Gol shrugged and patted Mayor on the head. "[Okay,]" she agreed, "[but I must get some things for Mother.]"
> Mayor wasn't really interested, but she asked her question anyway, more out of politeness than any curiosity.
"[What things?]"
> "[Mother wants salt and honey, if they have. She also wants ... or ... for the herd.]"
> The new words Mayor couldn't immediately place. Something for the donkeys? She wondered what Intor might want.
> As far as Mayor understood, the nomads were happy to let the poor creatures waste away without nourishment. Some of the younger boys were tasked each day with taking the herd out and digging through snow to get at what little dry grass they could scrounge up, but that was about it.
"[What are-]" she asked and tried to repeat the sounds: "er-taria and budah?"
> Gol seemed at a loss. She looked around for inspiration, but didn't seem to find it. "[I don't see them anywhere. You don't know 'ur-taria'? Animals eat it. Boo-dah is similar, but you cook it and it's for people.]"
> Once again Mayor shook her head, but at least now she knew it was some sort of food. It was a reasonable guess, though. More than half of what the traders were selling was foodstuffs, even if they were mostly types of preserved meat.
> She hadn't seen closely what the camp nomads were using to barter, or how they were paying the traders, and she didn't care enough to ask. Besides, she had her own method of payment.
"[Could I eat it? um, 'ur-taria' and 'boo-dah'?]"
> Her pronunciation this time was almost perfect and Gol nodded approvingly. "[I think, maybe? I don't know why not. I don't know how they are grown, but they are not meat. I think one of them comes from the ground?]"
> The girl didn't sound entirely certain, but Mayor believed the non-meat part of it, especially if they fed the thing to donkeys.
"[Can I buy some? Xuan has my hair, I will get it.]"
> Yes she was sad and disappointed about Rainy Day, but Mayor still had to live. It would be some time before spring brought fresh tubers and roots, and while she could bridge the gap with young grass, Mayor wanted to be prepared.
> She turned around until she found her bearing and picked a direction which would take her to Xuan's tent, but Gol placed herself in front of her.
> "[No, no-]" she began, but paused to rub at her eyes with her hand. Perhaps, Mayor guessed, a speck of dust had flown in. "[No, I'll go get it. You finish here and ask about your friend. Don't give up!]"
> There was almost no hope of getting any kind of news at that point, but Mayor couldn't fault Gol's reasoning. As the night had fallen, the traders had become used to her presence and were willing to speak with her, even if they thought it strange.
> Maybe it was the novelty of what they saw as a talking animal which was slightly loosening their tongues. If that was true, Gol's decision was the correct one.
"[Okay, I will ask. Bring- um, I don't know how much. How much you think for me, for 'er-taria' and -, uhm...]"
> She had forgotten the other word, but Gol helpfully supplied: "[Boo-dah?]"
"[Yes. Enough to eat until spring? Do you think it will be enough hair?]"
> Gol nodded happily. "[I will bring enough for half-bag of each. Your hair is a special color, they have never seen it before. It will be enough.]"
> Mayor gave a single, satisfied nod. The nomads in the camp were growing used to her unusual mane color - well, unusual for their drab world, at lest - but she had caught most of the traders staring, sometimes with open mouths.
> They would undoubtedly sell it well in distant lands, along with stories of a talking pony. Maybe, Mayor found herself hoping, some of those stories would make their way to Rainy Day and remind her that she wasn't alone; that Mayor Mare was still out there, looking for her.
> Maybe she could ask the traders to convey that message to anyone interested. It was worth a shot.
> She looked back at the crowd and commotion around the trading caravan and steeled her resolve. A few more blank stares and denials, then she would be done with the ordeal. She flattened her ears and plunged back in.

> ~~~~

> Er-taria, it turned out was wheat grain, and bu-dah was rice. Mayor hadn't known the nomads had these and she had seen neither in the camp before. Gol explained that it came from a long way away and the people didn't usually like such food.
> It was only worthwhile to carry it this far at the tail end of winter, when stores of food were running out and the animals were wasting away.
> Whatever their reasoning, it had suited Mayor just fine that these were not popular goods because that made it easier for her to barter. Gol's guess about Mayor's mane color had been proven correct and a fistful the girl had brought had been enough.
> Now Mayor had two burlap sacks on her back, each a little more than half full. There was also a nearly full bag of beer tossed into the deal, but Gol was carrying that for her.
> Mayor hadn't wanted to simply give the grain to Intor, but she couldn't trust Salki with the beer. She decided to ask Xuan for one more favour, so that was where she was going.
> It was already dark, but the camp was well lit with fires and there were the sounds of merriment behind them. Mayor just hoped that at least Xuan or Buygra would be at their tent.
> She knew the young woman wouldn't join the festivities, not after Mayor had told her what Equestrian medicine already knew about alcohol and pregnancy. Her child was unplanned, but not unloved and the nomad had taken her advice seriously.
> Mayor didn't know if Xuan had told her parents yet, but the fact that she and Buygra had taken a tent together should have tipped everyone off. Maybe Buygra's earlier worry had been unfounded, or maybe disapproving parents weren't as big a deal in nomad culture as they were in pony?
> They were in luck and Xuan was sitting at her fire, carving something from a block of wood with her obsidian knife. She looked up briefly and almost went back to her task before her head jerked up and she stared.
> "[That much?!]" she exclaimed.
"[Yes. My hair very valuable.]"
> She came closer while the woman stood up and began untying one of the sacks to check.
"[That one is rice and the other is grain. Um, Xuan?]"
> Her change of tone caught Xuan's attention and the nomad stopped fiddling with the sack. "[What?]"
"[Will you hide this for me? I can't trust Intor and you know Salki and beer.]"
> "[There's beer too!?]" Xuan blurted out, her eyebrows climbing in renewed surprise. "[Whoa, girl, you should be the camp's trader! You make a good deal. There wasn't much hair, you know?]"
> Before Mayor could reply and say that trading had some overlap in skills with her cutie mark, Gol burst in: "[It is a valuable color! Others have not seen this color, like summer flowers. There is no fabric like this in the whole world!]"
> Xuan inspected Mayor's mane more closely, then shrugged to herself. "[I guess not,]" she concluded. "[What will you do with what's left? Do you want it to trade more tomorrow?]"
> Once again Gol answered instead of the mare: "[No! I- I mean, it's not safe, people will see. I will come get it if we need it, that way no one will suspect.]"
> The older nomad didn't look like she agreed with this overabundance of caution, but she glanced at Mayor, then shrugged a little to herself. "[If you say so.]"
> Even Mayor Mare was surprised at just how cautious Gol was being, but then she remembered that the young woman knew her mother better than perhaps anyone else. Maybe she had reason to be wary?
> The advice was still sound, so Mayor shrugged to herself a little and walked over to Xuan's tent.
"[You will keep this safe for me?]"
> Xuan gave her a smile and waved in the direction of the entrance. "[Yes, of course, just put it inside.]"
> Mayor did so, then she returned to the fire and cast a longing, thirsty glance at the beer skin Gol was holding. She almost asked for it, but then realized how rude it would be to drink in front of Xuan who couldn't have any.
> She didn't want to go back to Intor's tent either, on the off chance that Willow was around. He wouldn't hesitate before taking the precious liquid off them and indulging with his friends. Salki was almost as bad.
"[Want to go back to the fire?]" Mayor asked.
> She tried to look chipper, despite the mix of anxiety, hope and disappointment the day had brought. She wasn't happy, but that beer would take the edge off and let her forget for a few hours.
> It would mean a hangover, but Mayor was okay with that. It was a problem for her future self.

> ~~~~

> It was a total shame, Mayor Mare though. The night had just gotten good, she was having a good time with her friends, but their beer had run out.
> She was already pleasantly buzzed and by the looks of it Gol was well on her way too. Some of the other youth had joined her, but there was no sign of Salki which was the fly in an otherwise tasty ointment.
> Did you even eat ointment, Mayor asked herself, or was ointment something you rubbed on yourself? She'd have to ask one of the nomads.
> On second though, they probably wouldn't know, or even if they did, she didn't have quite the required grasp on language to ask them.
> She blinked against the bright fire light in front of them and shifted her forelegs to allow more of that radiant warmth to penetrate to her core. Some of the nomads were banging their drums so others could dance. Mayor didn't feel like it, not if Salki wasn't there, but she let her head sway to and fro with the rhythm.
> It had turned into a bit of a festival, and she was starting to realize that this happened every time traders visited the camp. It meant an influx of goods, both common and exotic, and, more importantly, it meant a fresh supply of beer.
> She lifted the skin she was holding up to her muzzle and tried to wring a few more drops out of it. Unfortunately her balance wasn't quite up to par and she almost fell off the log she was sitting on.
> Luckily a young nomad boy was at her side and she leaned heavily against him to stay upright. It wasn't the first time, either, so the youth simply pushed back against her and kept her from toppling.
"[Thanks... sorry, uh- you,]" she drawled slightly.
> At least this time she had remembered to address the nomad in his own tongue. When she forgot herself and spoke Equestrian all she got in return were blank smiles.
> Salki was probably the only person in the camp who had even a remote chance of understanding her.
> This time there was no real reply, but the boy reached out and patted her withers as if to tell her that it was alright.
> Some of the people weren't too bad. Mayor looked around for Salki again, and when she didn't find him, for Buygra or Xuan. A friendly face would have been welcome in her greatly improved mood.
> Alcohol did that to her. Too bad the damned bag was empty.
> She let it drop to the ground and looked around to see if any of her friends might have something left to drink.
> The young boy who had held her up obviously didn't have the means, but on her other side was Gol and she might still have something to trade. Surely those bags of grain and rice Intor had sent her to buy didn't take precisely all her money?
> Was it even money? Mayor still didn't know how the nomads traded with each other.
"[Hey, uh, Go- Gol? What you how- um]" she began, but the complex words eluded her. "Money. Trade, m-money," she concluded in Equestrian.
> "[How we what]?" Gol asked, completely bewildered by the nonsensical question.
"[Is there more beer?]"
> That one made more sense, but unfortunately the girl couldn't give the mare the answer she wanted. "[Sorry.]"
"[Get more?]"
> Gol appeared thoughtful for a bit, but then she looked away and shrugged her shoulders. That meant she couldn't think of a way, Mayor knew. That was a shame and she briefly considered going to look for Salki and getting him to buy her some beer.
> Then she remembered a brilliant idea.
"Mane!" she blurted out. "[Um, hair! Xuan hair, let's get!]"
> She should still have plenty, even after her purchase of the grain and the rice. Besides, with both of those and spring around the corner, her food issues should be completely solved!
> Maybe it was time to indulge a little?
> Mayor slid from the wooden log and nearly fell flat on her muzzle because her forelegs weren't in the right place. She managed to get one in front of her, then stared at it in surprise as it buckled under her weight.
> She managed to catch herself just in time and then she remembered that her limbs were still sore and uncertain after the last few days.
"G-t G-tta take 'izzy."
> Gol was up and by her side a moment later. "[What are you doing? Where are you going?]"
"[Xuan, hair.]"
> This made the girl give a grunt and run around to stand in front of Mayor Mare. "[You can't!]" she said in a rush. "[It's late, they're probably asleep! You shouldn't bother them!]"
> That was true and when Mayor glanced at the sky she saw that it was indeed completely dark. There was not even a hint of sunset on the distant horizon. She couldn't see any of the stars, but that was probably because of her bad eyes.
> Still, it couldn't be *that* late and she was quite thirsty. The traders would go away in the morning, surely Xuan would understand and wouldn't mind being woken up for a few minutes.
> She pushed past Gol's legs, but misjudged her steps and ended up brushing her entire length against the young nomad's thighs. It wasn't the worst feeling in the world, though. It felt...
> Like an all-body hug, Mayor thought.
> Her next few steps were a bit less sure than she had hoped, but thanks to having four legs she was able to move quite steadily. Gol caught up, talking once again: "[We really shouldn't bother them, they're probably sleeping...]"
> Mayor Mare hesitated as she considered that, but then she shook her head.
"[No, it- we will quick, okay? Ju- Jus-] get the money... thing."
> "[Come on, you're drunk. Let's just go home.]"
> That was the safe, boring option. Mayor could still remember the raw pain of the shaman's words, and the disappointment when these traders didn't have Rainy Day, or at least some news about her. She needed to drink more and forget for a while.
> She needed to be happy, even if it was the delirious, fake happiness of the alcohol. Everypony deserved to be happy, even ex-mayors who had become slaves to these outlandish people.
> It was easy to ignore Gol and the girl didn't try to put herself in the way again. Pretty soon they made their way to Xuan's tent, where Mayor simply walked up to the entrance and pushed her head in.
"[Oi! You- uh, Xuan!]"
> There were some exclamations of surprise from inside the tent and some urgent rustling of cloth. Mayor thought she saw two shadows pull apart, but it was too gloomy inside to be sure.
> She could still make an educated guess, though.
"[You two s-stop- stop fucking and gimme... uh...]"
> Unfortunately she couldn't remember the words and turned to Gol for help. The girl was standing to far away and didn't respond, so Mayor searched her memory for the right word.
"[Hair! My Hair, gimme!]"
> There were a few moments of silence, followed by more cloth noises and then a hand on her muzzle pushed Mayor back out of the tent. Xuon followed it, though, so the mare didn't mind.
> "[Meyermer?]" the woman asked after she'd had a moment to look at the intruder. "[What are you doing? It's the middle of the night!]" Her brow furrowed as she went on: "[You're drunk!]"
> This made Mayor shake her head in denial. She could still remember and, more importantly, she could still think.
"[Not yet. I have- uh, more beer! I want more, but I need hair, okay? Gimme.]"
> There were a few moments of heavy silence, then Xuan said slowly: "[I gave all your hair to Gol. Didn't she bring it to you? You bought grain with it.]"
> The mare shook her head and tried to lift up a hoof to enhance her point, but her balance wasn't what it used to be and she nearly fell over.
"[Not that, izz- uh, izz all done, okay? Grain okay, but beer now. Uh, I ran out...]"
> She would have said more, but Xuan clamped her muzzle shut with a hand. "[You're not making any sense. Go home and sleep, we'll talk in the morning.]"
> Mayor pulled back and broke free of the grasp, which allowed her to shake her head again.
"[No, no home! I want more night! The- uh, the beer still young!]"
> At this jumbled mess of a sentence Gol couldn't help but let out a short giggle, which finally made her presence known to Xuan. "[Gol? What's going on here? I gave you all the hair I had left.]"
> Mayor followed her friend's gaze, but the young nomad just lowered her eyes to the ground and didn't answer.
> Something was completely wrong there, but Mayor couldn't form sufficient thoughts to do any kind of math. She was sure there would be more hair *somewhere* and she knew she wanted more beer, so it all felt like a non-problem.
> She couldn't make heads or tails with what the nomads were saying.
> "[Come on, let's go home,]" Gol pleaded again. She came closer and tugged on Mayor's ear in an effort to turn the mare around. "[Mother has some beer in the tent, I will give you it if you come with me!]"
> That sounded more like it. Mayor didn't really care where the drink came from, nor who paid for it, as long as she was allowed a few hours of blissful ignorance. Her heart still hurt and she wanted relief from that insidious pain.
"[Okay!]" she agreed readily.
> A thought passed her mind that she should say goodbye to Xuan, but she didn't trust her hooves to keep her upright if she turned around. In the end she decided simply to shout over her shoulder:
"[Bye Xuan!]"
> There was an angry yell for them to be quiet from a nearby tent, and Mayor giggled to herself. It reminded her so much of her university days in Canterlot where stuck-up unicorns would yell obscenities at them out their windows.
> She was lost in that memory as she followed Gol until she got an even better ideas. What had made her youthful revelry special hadn't been the booze; it had been friends. She couldn't drink alone like some sad, lonely pony. She had to spread the cheer around!
"[Thi- *urk* this way!]"
> Walking was tough and was starting to unsettle her stomach, so going back to the fire in the middle of the camp was an even better idea. It was closer than Intor's tent, and it had all her new friends.
> Maybe even Salki would have joined them by now!
> Gol gripped her ear and pulled painfully to get Mayor to turn back, but the mare was beyond caring and simply dragged the poor nomad girl a few steps.
"[No, no, this way. Bring it- the beer, bring here. We all drink!]"
> her companion complained and pleaded, but Mayor simply ignored it. It was easy, she simply didn't concentrate enough to mentally translate the words and it all just became white noise. She paused long enough to sit on her rump, ignoring the cold and wet mud, and use both forehooves to remove Gol's hand from her ear.
> It took her a few tries, but then she realized the girl had already let go, wary of her flashing hooves.
"[Good! Uh, bring and go beer, okay?]"
> Gol let her head hang down, but then she sighed and said something affirmative. It was what Mayor had been waiting for, so she smiled widely and tried to pat Gol on the rump to get her moving faster.
> She missed and the girl left, presumably to fetch the precious beer, so Mayor simply grinned to herself and clambered back to all fours so she could return to the camp fire.
> Some more revelry with her friends awaited her.

> ~~~~

> It wasn't much later that Gol returned to the main party with a decently full skin of beer in her hands. Mayor didn't know where Intor had been hiding it, but she didn't much care.
> She had no compunction about drinking her current master's beer. Intor was supposed to provide for her slave's every need, after all, and Mayor had a serious need to be happy and forget for a while.
> As soon as it was within reach, before Gol could really offer her the skin, Mayor took it and bit into the knot. She struggled with it for a while, then pushed the whole thing to one of the other young nomads.
"[Open!]" she ordered.
> It took less than a minute and she got the skin back. She sought the opening greedily with her mouth and lifted the whole thing up as soon as she had it.
> The precious ambrosia poured into her throat and a bit of it went the wrong way. Mayor swallowed what she could, urgently, desperately so as not to lose any, then feebly held the bag toward someone while she began to cough.
> Her fit lasted for a long while, and when she could finally look around once more she didn't see Gol anywhere. That was just as well, she had delivered what she'd promised!
> The nomad boy who currently held her beer bag was looking at her with enough concern to make up for Gol's absence. "[Are you okay?]" he asked, concern quite obvious on his voice.
"[Fine- uh] fine! No... [fine!]"
> Mayor had to fumble with the languages a little until she landed on the correct one.
"[Fine! I brea- breathe water- no beer. No breathe beer.]"
> That sounded like a marvelous joke and Mayor chuckled at it, even if none of the others seemed to get it. They were too uptight and she pointed a hoof.
"[Drink! It- me- um, trade noff- noffing, okay? Jus- drink...]"
> She couldn't come up with a way to tell them it was free, but hopefully they'd figure it out. She had to reach out a hoof and poke at the skin to get the youth to take a swig from it, but he did and Mayor smiled.
> Sharing a drink with her friends, celebrating the coming spring. It was the nicer part of living with these people.
> Soon she got the skin back, hardly missing any of its contents and she gratefully lifted it up again. She still felt sad, which meant she had to drink more. Simple math.
> Already the camp was swirling around her and she had trouble keeping her balance, even while sitting on her rump. She straddled the log to improve her balance and steadied herself with a forehoof.
"[Here- here,]" she told the nomad boy in front of her.
> She didn't remember his name, but she knew his face. He was one of Gol's friends, which meant he was also her friend. He looked confused, but she gripped his hand with her forehooves and pulled it closer, heedless of the fact that she left large, muddy hoofprints on his skin.
"[Here!]"
> Mayor had to sidle closer to make contact, but soon she had his hand pressed against her mane.
"[Scratch!]"
> Such a useful word. She would have to thank Salki for teaching it to her. The nomad youth understood and dug his fingers lightly into her mane.
> The sheer pleasure of it made Mayor moan out loud and close her eyes. She swayed a little from side to side, but that just meant that her friend's hand travelled left and right to evenly scratch all of her scalp.
> She remembered the skin she was holding in her fetlock and held it out.
"[Mmmmmh, 'ere... 'ere, drunk.]"
> He didn't seem to understand so Mayor pulled away and opened her eyes. The boy was looking at her with an expression somewhere between bemused and worried. He didn't understand how to drink from the skin, she realized.
> Unfortunately words were failing her at the moment, she all Mayor could think of was to teach by example.
> She lifted the bag up and took several long swallows, then she held the treasured thing out once more.
"[Now yo- you. You!]"
> He took it, albeit reluctantly, and made the tiniest sip. It was progress and she didn't push him further, but rather looked around for her other friends.
"[You, an' you, an' you an' you! Drunk. Drink.]"
> Some were more eager than others and Mayor saw with approval that the beer skin was being passed around.
> She was watching one of the girls drink when the log shifted under her.
> "[What in hell is going on here? What are you doing?!]"
> Mayor knew that voice and smiled hugely in recognition and delight:
"[Sal- Salki!]"
> It was her favourite nomad, right there on the log behind her. She didn't feel up to the task of turning around, not with the way everything was spinning, but Mayor had a better idea. She simply pushed off with both forehooves and let herself fall backward in the sure knowledge that Salki would catch her.
> He did and she found herself firmly grasped in his lap, staring up at his stubby beard and that crow's nest of hair on his head. There were fine, soft hairs in his nostrils, too, Mayor saw.
"[Hiiiii!]" she trilled at him, then burst out in giggles at her situation.
> "[Shit, you're completely drunk again. Who gave you the beer?!]"
> She shook her head, tried to come up with words to explain she bought it herself, then gave up and shrugged. It wasn't important.
"[You- uhhh, you... you...]"
> She couldn't intone what she wanted to say, not in the complicated and elusive nomad language, so she switched to something more familiar.
"Yo- Yee, yer- yer kinna cute, okay? Even, even iffa- iffa no muzzle, right?"
> He blinked at her, then shook his head. "[Sorry, I don't understand.]"
> She didn't need him to and just waved a dismissive hoof, which nearly smacked his face. Salki didn't need to understand her because she could show him.
"Lemme- lemme up!"
> This bit he understood, mostly because of her wiggling, and helped her sit upright. That brought her almost in range. Mayor placed her hooves on his knees for balance and lunged forward to try and catch his lips with hers.
> She had seen how Xuan and Buygra kissed. It was a gesture he would understand.
> They connected for a brief, electric moment and she saw his eyes widen in delight and surprise. His hands came up to her shoulders, undoubtedly to grab her and pull her closer.
> Unfortunately she acted too quickly. She shoved her tongue at him and caught a whiff of meat on his breath.
> It pushed her budding nausea over the threshold.
> Mayor got her face away just in time so she threw up into the mud beside them, and not all over Salki's chest.
> The other nomads around them were laughing like crazy, but she didn't share their amusement, not when it was happening to her.
> Precious beer was spilling out, but Mayor had no desire to try and keep it in.
> She had to stop and take a breath, but then the flood came back.
> The laughter almost drowned out Salki's loud words.
> She didn't understand them as they chased her into black forgetfulness.

> ~~~~

> It was an all-too-familiar ache for Mayor Mare. She felt absolutely foul and her head was killing her. She should not have drunk so much last night.
> She was paying the price and the loud argument between Intor and Gol wasn't helping. Mayor had tried to put her hooves over her ears, but it didn't block out the sound. Not even the thick, fur blanket was helping.
> There was no way to avoid it any longer and she let out an annoyed little growl as she pushed herself up. The other two fell silent and looked at her, but Gol immediately glanced away.
> "[Tell her!]" Intor commanded in a voice like iron. She pointed a finger in Mayor's direction, but kept staring at her daughter.
> Whatever it was Gol was supposed to say couldn't have been nice. The young nomad flinched at the order and mumbled something which sounded like a plea. Unfortunately Intor was intractable. "[Tell her, or I will!]"
"[Tell me what?!]"
> Mayor had almost had enough of the noise. She was technically Intor's slave, but the mare was in no mood for the woman's crap, not this day.
> The disappointment from the previous night still hurt, perhaps not physically like her head but with the kind of anguish which would never stop, Mayor suspected. On top of that she felt like she had heard or done something very bad.
> She couldn't remember. Her last memory had been of going back to the campfire from Xuan's tent, then something about Salki, then nothing. Mayor assumed Gol had gotten her back to the tent and put her to sleep.
> The smell and the taste in her mouth weren't helping her mood either. Mayor felt as if she had eaten out of one of those latrines the nomads dug for their refuse. She was on the verge of puking again.
"[Water. Please...]"
> Gol didn't budge, but to Mayor's surprise Intor reached behind her and offered a water skin. The mare didn't know what to make of it, but she took the thing and feverishly began untying the knot with her teeth.
> Once again it was Intor, not Gol who came to her aid. "[Here, let me,]" the woman told her quietly and reached over to take the water skin back so she could work on the tight knot with her nimble fingers.
> All Mayor Mare could do was stare in silent astonishment. Why was Intor being so nice suddenly? She tried to read the woman's face, but there was nothing. Intor would have an amazing poker face if she ever learned to play that game.
> Out of sheer confusion Mayor looked at Gol for answers, but the younger nomad was just kneeling in front of the dead fireplace and looking at the ashes. She didn't seem aware of Mayor's attention on her.
"[What is happen?]" she asked out loud.
> There was no reply from Gol, but Intor offered her the opened water skin. "[Here. drink. We'll talk then.]"
> Mayor didn't question the advice and took the proffered vessel. She smelled and tasted that stale, meaty aftertaste all nomad water skins shared, but by now she was used to it and simply ignored it. The water was good.
> It wasn't too cold, so it didn't make her headache worse, but it also didn't help, not right away. At least, Mayor thought to herself, it had helped her wash that awful taste in her mouth.
> Day old, regurgitated beer. She couldn't remember vomiting, but she knew she must have done. Her throat burned, her belly ached and there had been that horrible taste. She held the water back to Intor, then let her head hang down.
> Again. She had drunk to excess again.
> After the last time Mayor had promised herself she would be more careful. Nomad beer was unusually strong and she got drunk too easily.
> That beer she had shared with the hunters, out on their excursion, that hadn't been excessive. It had been just right to get her tipsy, but not nauseated, and it hadn't left her with a splitting headache the next day.
> She had truly believed that she had her alcohol problem in hoof.
> Obviously not. Sure, the previous day had been a disappointment when the traders didn't have any news of Rainy Day, and a few drinks with her friends would have done wonders for her mood, but apparently she couldn't be trusted.
> She couldn't trust herself with beer. She didn't know when to stop.
> That had never been a problem in Equestria, not even during the most stressful times in her life. Not while she was dealing with the final exams for college, nor during any of the little crises in Ponyville after Princess Twilight - then just a unicorn - had moved in.
> Why did she feel that thirst now?
> Maybe, Mayor thought, because the nomad world was ugly and brutal and she didn't want any part of it, but she was stuck there. Beer was an escape, at least for a little while.
> She promised herself that she would be careful. Escape was fine, but not so much that she threw up and blanked out.
> Her thought was interrupted when Intor raised her voice once more: "[Gol! Tell her! The truth!]"
> Mayor looked at the girl again, but Gol kept her gaze firmly on the dead ashes. She hadn't moved a muscle.
> "[Gol...]" Intor repeated and this time her voice was low and full of quiet menace. This sound made the younger nomad react, if only by flinching and cringing away from her mother.
> There still didn't appear to be anything forthcoming and Intor heaved a long-suffering sigh. She shifted over to Gol's cot and reached under the blanket. This action provoked a stronger reaction and Gol reached out a trembling hand: "[No, Mother, please!]"
> It was too late and Intor lifted up her prize. Mayor blinked a few times in confusion until she recognized the mass of brown and gray fur.
"[The coat!]"
> They had looked at the garment on that trader's table! She recognized it precisely because it was so much more brutal than what the nomads usually wore.
> Most of their clothes were made from larger animals, usually donkeys, but Mayor had recognized some sort of large cervid types and some wolf pelts.
> The coat was made from much smaller creatures. Squirrels, or mink, if Mayor had to guess. Maybe there was rabbit in there too, and perhaps some animals she couldn't recognize just from their disembodied coats.
> At least two dozen little lives had been extinguished for that garment. It was needlessly cruel and Mayor took her eyes away.
> She wasn't exactly okay with wearing *any* kind of animal skin, but there had been no choice. She would have died of cold had the nomads not given her that cape, and her blankets.
> This, however... it looked like nothing but cruelty for its own sake. Surely it didn't have any practical use. It couldn't be warmer than the regular stuff nomads wore, nor did it look particularly nice, at least to Mayor's pony eyes.
> It really made no sense to her why any nomad would actually want something that gruesome.
> She looked from one woman to the other, but still didn't quite understand why Intor was so insistent that Gol should tell Mayor about the coat. At least Mayor assumed it was Gol's coat, since Intor had pulled it out of her cot.
"[What is this?]"
> "[Tell her!]" Intor hissed once more, and again it made Gol flinch and shake her head. The poor girl sniffled and turned frightened, pleading eyes on the mare. "[Please, I didn't...]" she began, but her mother interrupted her with a loud slap.
> The sudden violence was so unexpected that Mayor jumped a step away in fright. She opened her muzzle to demand why Intor had done it, but the woman spoke first.
> "[You cut your hair and hid it!]" she said, with more than a little accusation in her voice as she shook that coat she was still gripping in her free hand. "[That was disrespectful! You thought you needed to buy food and that shamed my family!]"
> It was not something Mayor had imagined would come out of Intor's mouth in a million years and all she could do was gape at the nomad. Even her ears stood up as if to make sure she wouldn't miss a single word.
> "[We will provide for our servants!]" Intor said angrily. but then shook her head and pushed the coat closer to Mayor. who instinctively ducked once again. "[This is how that worthless daughter of mine repaid your trust!]"
> There was a whimper from Gol, but Intor paid it no mind and went on: "[She stole your hair so she could buy herself trinkets!]"
> Something from the previous night fell in place and Mayor flicked her gaze from Intor to Gol.
"[Xuan- Xuan said no more hair! She said there no more! There should be more! Where is rest of it?!]"
> Intor gave a rueful laugh and brandished the coat again. "[This is the rest of it! Tell her!]" she ordered.
> Finally Gol began to speak, but her voice was faint and hesitant, and she kept pausing and looking imploringly at her mother, hoping that her misery would end.
> "[I took half of head...]" the girl admitted. "[When I cut it. I h-h-hid half. I only gave Xuan half...]"
> Mayor gasped in unwelcome surprise.
"[That why Xuan said how little it was! She asked where was rest! She saw it wasn't all! She saw!]"
> Gol physically flinched from Mayor's words, then she swallowed and spoke in a voice barely above a whisper: "[I'm sorry! I'm sorry! It was so much, I wasn't- I wasn't thinking! I didn't mean to- I was going to-]"
> Whatever she was trying to say was interrupted by a loud harrumph from Intor. "[Hrm! You stole from our servant! Shame! Shame on you and shame on me for how I raised you! The whole camp will laugh at us!]"
> That made Gol whimper in fear and draw in on herself, until she was almost curled up into a ball, even as she remained kneeling at the fireplace.
> Mayor couldn't do much more than stare in hurt betrayal. She had thought Gol was her friend. She thought Gol knew what that mane meant to the mare. Her survival depended on it!
> To steal it so blatantly!
> Her mouth curled up into a hateful little sneer. She took a breath to tell the girl exactly what she thought of her sneaky, dishonest ways, but again Intor beat her to it.
> "[You should have given hair to me!]" she said, and when Mayor twirled her shocked, incredulous expression on the woman, Intor went on: "[I would have kept safe. Bought you food from traders when they came. I can make good deals, I would have gotten you more than half a bag of er-taria and boo-dah.]"
> Mayor almost laughed. She knew how Intor liked finer things and she had no doubts that the woman would have taken her mane for herself and let the mare subsist on scraps and dry grass.
> At least she hadn't doubted it until now.
> After all, it was Intor who was forcing Gol to tell Mayor the truth. Without her, she might never have noticed. With how drunk she had gotten the previous night, that sneaky Gol could have simply said Mayor had spent the last of her mane on beer.
> She would have believed it too. The thought alone was enough to make the mare glare at Gol again.
> "[Don't worry,]" Intor said. "[I will take this back and I will get you more food in exchange. We will take care of our servants!]"
> Gol looked up at that point and Mayor thought the girl looked mournful. She stared longingly past the mare at the garment her mother was still holding up right behind Mayor.
> It made her grimace in disgust. Even after having been found out she coveted the ugly, garish little thing! She nearly spat on the ground.
> She resolutely walked past the girl, who cowered away from her, and headed for the tent flap.
> "[Meyermer,]" Intor called after her and Mayor paused to glance back. "[I'm sorry. I should have raised her better.]"
> Hearing the woman apologize - more than that, hearing her treat Mayor like an equal was disturbing and the mare didn't know which bothered her more. That Gol could be so greedy and conniving, or that her mother could be not.
> She needed to clear her head. The pounding headache hadn't gotten any better with the news. She wanted to go out and breathe some fresh air.
> "[I'm s-soo sorry!]" Gol snivelled and it sounded like she was on the verge of tears. Mayor didn't answer as she slipped out of the tent.
> She saw Willow outside, tending the fire, and when he looked and spotted her, he flashed her a mocking grin.
> Mayor didn't know whether it was because his sister had stolen from her, or something else, and she didn't have the patience to find out. She ignored the man and headed off toward the stream. First she would get some more water.
> Then she would think about what to do.
> Maybe what Intor had said about shame was true. Maybe Mayor could use that and get the woman to release her from service sooner.
> She would much prefer to go back to Darga and Salki. The chieftain was hard and merciless, and she drove her son unrelentingly, but at least she was fair. At least Mayor felt like she could trust them both.
> Well, she could trust them more than she could trust Gol and Intor.
> Something about Salki reminded her of the last night, but the memory was still fuzzy.
> Mayor sighed, promised herself she wouldn't drink like that anymore, and hastened her steps. Soon she would be out of the camp and she could breathe a little more easily. She wouldn't have to guard her expression so closely anymore.
> She was fighting hard to keep tears from flowing freely.
> She had really thought Gol was her friend.

> ~~~~

> Her head was pounding with each step and her insides were a twisting, burning mess. On her way to the stream Mayor had vomited up a few dregs of half-processed beer, but it didn't do much for her condition except give her a bad taste in her mouth.
> She was looking forward to washing it out and hoping clear water would settle things at least a little.
> As a result, the mare was in quite a foul mood as Gol caught up with her just before she reached the stream.
> The girl seemed anxious to say something, so Mayor didn't immediately turn her away, but she still mostly ignored the newcomer and continued on her way to the water.
> It took Gol some time to work up her courage before she spoke up: "[Look, I-]" There was a pause as the girl hesitated. Mayor could see she had a death grip on the sleeve of her fur coat while she sought for words.
"[Well?]"
> Mayor did her best not to sound impatient, but despite her long practice as a politician it didn't quite work. She felt like manure and couldn't keep the edge out of her voice.
> "[I'm sorry. I shouldn't have stolen from you.]"
"[That's true...]" Mayor said.
> She fell silent, not entirely sure what to put after that. She was too hungover to really decide how she felt about the whole thing.
> Gol looked down and fiddled with her fingers. It was obvious even to Mayor, unused to nomad mannerisms and expressions as she was, that the young woman didn't know quite what to say.
"[... you shouldn't,]" Mayor finished lamely.
> She snorted in annoyance at both herself and Gol, and waded into the cold stream up to her ankles. That was probably enough to make sure the water was pure and unsoiled. Despite that Mayor peered upstream to see if any of the nomads were washing themselves or cleaning their clothes.
> The bank seemed to be deserted, which would make sense. It was just after the morning rush, but before wives would send out their children to fetch water for the mid-day cooking.
> Mayor lowered her muzzle into the stream and sucked up big mouthfuls of the icy cold water. At first it gave her brain freeze, but she hardly even noticed it over her persistent headache. Hopefully soon it would help her feel better. If nothing else, she could no longer taste the vomited beer.
> "[Look, I didn't... I mean, I-]" Gol tried again from the bank, but once again she didn't really have anything useful to say.
> The mare lifted her head and looked back. Something was bothering the nomad, she could see that much, and it seemed to be more than just guilt.
"[You didn't what? You didn't steal?!]"
> The nomad was just a child, Mayor remembered. The people were taller than ponies so it was sometimes hard to keep that fact in mind. Gol was just doing what all children did when they were in trouble, which was to make themselves look less bad.
"[Just forget it. I don't want this now. Go away.]"
> At this Gol let out a small sigh and she spread her arms helplessly. "[I'm sorry! I took your hair because there was so much and I thought-]"
> Once again the young nomad stopped before she had gotten through her own sentence, and she lowered her eyes once more. "[I thought of all the things I could trade with that. I got greedy!]"
> Mayor knew that and understood it. Surely Gol also knew it? She was young, but not that young.
> It felt as if Gol wanted to say something else, but at the same time she didn't want to. Trying to guess was beyond the mare for the moment and she didn't much feel like wheedling it out of Gol. Not to mention that her headache was getting worse.
> Her muzzle scrunched up in distaste and she bent down once more to drink. She kept one ear trained on the nomad girl, but that was pure habit, rather than any desire to continue the conversation.
> "[I know it was wrong, okay!?]" Gol said in exasperation. "[I was gonna give it all back, but I was ashamed! I didn't want you to find out.]"
> Mayor waited only long enough to swallow her mouthful before turning her glare on Gol.
"[Oh? You spent hair! You traded for stupid coat, for yourself! You didn't give back, so don't talk like you wanted to give back!]"
> That was an unavoidable truth and Gol didn't reply immediately. Mayor stomped out of the stream until she was near enough to see the girl's face more clearly. She couldn't be sure, but she thought there were tears brimming in Gol's eyes.
> "[I didn't-]" she began again and her hands bunched up into fists. "[I didn't- It wasn't-]"
> She let out a sigh and put her face in her hands. "[I'm sorry!]" came her distraught, muffled voice.
> For a moment it had looked like Gol would deny it all again, even after her mother had shown Mayor the evidence! Surely she couldn't think of the mare being stupid enough to fall for that, could she?
> After all that time, did Gol still see Mayor as nothing but a dumb beast? Mayor had thought they were beyond such idiocy, that they were friends!
> Mayor shook her head. The hangover was making her too irritable and she wasn't thinking clearly. The way Gol was talking didn't fit with the picture the mare had made in her head, but thinking about it hurt. It would have to wait.
> The silence was hitting hard, at least judging by how Gol choked off a sob. "[Please, I'm your friend!]", she begged. "[I'm sorry! Mother will get your things back, I'm sorry! Please forgive me!]"
> The whiny pleading was exacerbating Mayor's headache. That, combined with how awful her stomach felt and how she felt the contents stirring up again, was just making Mayor Mare angrier. She nearly held herself back, but in the end it just slipped out of her mouth:
"[Well, you fucked up! Friends don't steal from friends!]"
> Mayor simply pushed past Gol on her way back to the camp. She was ashamed of herself. This was a very un-pony way to act and she needed to clear her head before she said anything worse.
> Her voice had been full of venom and the implication - that they weren't friends anymore - had made Gol pale in dismay. She crouched down and reached out a hand just in time to snag Mayor's hind hoof around the fetlock in an effort to keep the mare from leaving. "[Please, forgive me! I didn't mean it! You're my only friend, Meyermer, please!]"
> That much was true. Had been true, at least. Mayor had really felt like the two had become close even in the short time they spent together.
> Part of her wanted to stay mad. Maybe it was because she had been reminded of how she lost her only Equestrian friend, or maybe it was still the headache thinking for her, or the fact that she was a captive in the camp, but Mayor almost made Gol the target of all her frustrations.
> She held back - none of it was really Gol's fault - but it was a close run thing and the effort of it was plainly visible in her stiffly-folded ears and her scrunched up muzzle. Her balance was precarious on three legs and as she shifted she almost pulled her hind leg free.
> Unfortunately Gol interpreted as a kick and thought Mayor was trying to break free. She almost panicked: "[Don't stop being my friend, please! I will make it up to you! I'm sorry! It wasn't me-]"
> That last bit sounded like it had slipped out unintentionally and Gol covered her mouth with her free hand, but she still didn't let the mare go.
"[What you mean wasn't you? Who was it? Look- forget hair, I just angry because I thought I trusted you! That hurts.]"
> Mayor didn't know enough words to properly explain, but she tried anyway:
"[I thought Meyermer trusts Gol. Gol trusts Meyermer. If Gol asked: 'Meyermer, please give some hair for trade', I give you some! But not steal! Now no trust any more!]"
> It was poor and broken nomad speak, but it was enough for Gol to understand. The girl was openly weeping now, tears leaving clean tracks through the grime on her face.
> "[I know, I know! You can trust me, I promise! I'm sorry, I'll make it up to you!]" she continued like a broken record.
> It sounded plaintive and heartfelt and it quickly got to work on melting the residual anger in Mayor's heart. Gol was little more than a child, she reminded herself quietly.
> Could they regain something? Mayor wasn't sure, but she thought back and sighed in dismay. Her ears splayed and her eyes closed for a moment. She *had* loved having a female friend among the nomads. She had thought Gol was on her side against Intor, that she could trust the girl.
> Maybe when she felt better, when she was no longer hungover and her mood wasn't as foul. That made it doubly important to clear her head before speaking with Gol. She needed to get away and Mayor resolutely jerked her hind hoof free.
"[I will think on it...]"
> Instead of waiting for Gol's reply, Mayor left and went to find Salki. Surely what Intor had said about shame could be used to get her out of that servitude faster. Maybe it would even help Darga gain some political advantage over Intor.
> Using Gol's mistake for something like that felt slightly dirty and Mayor cringed as she thought about it, but then she remembered that she was little more than a slave in the camp and her resolve stiffened.
> She had to do hard things to survive. At least the pain in her head seemed to feel a bit better. Fresh air and the water were helping and it was making Mayor feel a tiny bit less wretched.
> It really wasn't the value of the mane that hurt the most. True, she needed everything she could get to survive the tail end of winter, but she wasn't *that* desperate. In fact, she hadn't lied to Gol.
> If the girl had asked her for some of the mane to buy that horrible coat Mayor would probably have given in, especially if Gol promised something in return.
> The betrayal, the sheer, low, conniving betrayal was what hurt. Neither of them had much, and they both lived under Intor's heavy oppression and Willow's incessant bullying.
> She sighed to herself while her hooves took her back to the camp on automatic. Gol wasn't following and Mayor was both glad and disappointed in that. If the girl cried some more and said she was sorry a few times the mare would have forgiven her.
> Not trusted her, not right away, but at least forgiven so they could start fixing their relationship.
> A part of Mayor was glad that Gol hadn't come after her. She wanted the fool little nomad to stew in her misery for a bit longer. If she said she was sorry again, later in the day, and if Mayor thought Gol was being honest, she *would* forgive her, she decided.
> Ponies gave people second chances, after all, and Mayor still wasn't completely sure how much of that anger came from herself and how much was the headache and the stomach. She cringed to herself as she ran through the dialogue again. She had definitely been too sharp with Gol. She would give her another chance.
> A stray thought made the mare pause with her hoof in the air. Did that mean Intor also deserved a second chance?!
> The woman had promised to get her mane back, or at lest to get an equivalent value of food in return. If she did that, and didn't keep anything back, could Mayor give the woman another chance?
> After all, if she hadn't mentioned Gol's betrayal it was likely no one would have even known. Mayor had been secretive about her mane, and Gol's theft had been masterfully done. Not even Xuan suspected she hadn't been given all of her mane to safeguard.
> Trust Intor more than she trusted Gol?
> It was a truly- well, she couldn't say it in Equestrian, but she could in nomad:
"[A fucked situation...]"
> She needed someone to talk to, to help her work though this. Maybe that could be Salki, but Mayor had a strange feeling that the young nomad might not want to see her. She kept thinking that she had done something incredibly bad last night, but she couldn't remember through the haze of alcohol.
> Maybe Xuan would be her safest bet, and she could go speak with Salki once her stomach had settled down some more and her head was clearer.
> It was the best plan she could come up with, so Mayor headed toward Xuan and Buygra's tent.

> ~~~~

> Mayor Mare found the young couple sitting in front of their tents, speaking quietly. They fell silent when she approached and gave her strange looks which was a reaction she had not been expecting.
> Well, Buygra refused to look at her at all, but Mayor supposed that could be a *kind* of strange look.
> Xuan, on the other hoof, just stared for a few seconds until she remembered herself.
> "[Have you spoken with Salki yet?]" she asked.
"[What? Why?]"
> There was something about Salki and the previous night, but Mayor still couldn't quite remember. She had had too much to drink, that much she knew, and there was one blind guess she could make.
"[Um, did I- what do you call, food from mouth. Stomach not good. Too much beer?]"
> "[Puked?]"
"[Yes, did I puked on Salki? I don't know. Too much beer.]"
> Xuan looked unsure and lowered her eyes to her hands, where she was suddenly very interested in cleaning her nails.
"[Xuan? What happened yesterday?]"
> The young woman sighed and glanced at Buygra, but he vehemently shook his head and scrambled to his feet. "[I need to go. Uh, there will be a hunt. I need to find the others...]"
> Even to Mayor's ears that sounded like an evasion and an excuse, but she couldn't think of anything to say which might keep the nomad there. She concentrated on Xuan instead.
"[Tell me what I did, Xuan.]"
> Surely it couldn't be all that bad. If she had vomited all over Salki that would be embarrassing, but Mayor would apologize, offer to wash his clothes, and endure the bit of laughter other nomads would undoubtedly send her way.
> It would pass. Social mishaps always did, as soon as something more juicy came long the gossip line.
> At long last Xuan looked up and met Mayor's eyes, even if only for a moment before she averted her gaze once more. "[You really don't remember?]"
"[No! Tell me!]"
> The nomad relaxed her hands and let them fall into her lap as she breathed out a sigh. "[Meyermer, you kissed Salki. You kissed him like a lover would.]"
> Such simple, innocent words, yet they struck hard and Mayor's hind legs collapsed under her.
"[I w- I what?!]"
> She almost called her friend out on a lie, but her sneaky, backstabbing memory chose that moment to offer up a vague, distorted fragment. She, sitting in Salki's lap, with her hooves on his shoulders and her muzzle pressed firmly against his face.
> Mayor was pretty sure she had tried to shove her tongue down his throat.
> Had he pushed her away? She couldn't remember what had happened next.
> In the present her muzzle was beet red and her ears were as flat as they would go.
> "[So it's true?]" Xuan asked. "[I wasn't sure I believed it when Buygra told me. You remember now?]"
"[Yes, I remember...]" Mayor choked out.
> Her throat was suddenly dry.
> She tried to rally and shake off the wrong feeling. Was it really that bad? The nomads would know she had been drunk and it was nothing more than a snog while she was under the haze of alcohol. It hadn't meant anything.
> Had it?
> Her breathing was picking up as Mayor tried to sort out her own thoughts and feelings. She liked Salki, she really did, and perhaps she had occasionally wondered what it might be like, but this...
> Nomads were incredibly xenophobic. They even feared and hated their own kind, if they were from a different group! Xuan and Buygra had been nearly disowned by their respective parents because they were together.
> Mayor didn't understand exactly why, but apparently it had something to do with families and bloodlines and ancestors.
> A lot of the nomads in the camp still saw her as little more than a clever animal. They certainly wouldn't appreciate the fact that she had kissed Salki in public.
> One of their worst curses, for Celestia's sake, was '[donkey-fucker]'! She'd heard the nomads say that about rival camps on more than one occasion.
> Mayor realized that she had been sitting on her haunches and staring, unseeing, straight at Xuan's face for long minutes.
"[It's- it doesn't matter, right? Xuan, it was just beer. I was drunk. It meant no thing!]"
> The look she got back chilled Mayor's blood. "[It was bad, Meyermer,]" the woman said sadly. "[You have shamed him and his family. Everyone is calling him pony-fucker and Darga is furious with you. Maybe you should hide from her for a while.]"
> Mayor swallowed a lump and her ears would have lowered if there was any more room. For a moment she thought about taking Xuan's advice and hiding in Intor's tent until it all blew over.
> The one thing Darga valued above all else was her and Salki's public image. They had to be perfect, if he wanted to become chieftain, she'd said. Already she had threatened them both for sleeping on the same cot, and that had only been for warmth and in the privacy of their tent.
> There had been nothing more than rumors, and they had driven Darga to incandescent rage. This time she had kissed Salki right out in the open, by the great fire, for all the camp to see.
> The rumors would surely be flying now.
"[I have to- I have to explain. Find Salki, tell it was only beer! Explain! It not my fault, it beer!]"
> Xuan was shaking her head and reached a hand out, but it came short of touching the mare. "[Just hide. People will forget, it will blow over. Stay out of Darga's way.]"
> Perhaps that was good advice and between the two of them Xuan surely knew more about keeping a low profile in the nomad society, but Mayor was panicking and all she could think of was to try and save Salki's public image.
> Her every politician's instinct was crying out to her to obey Xuan, to stay away lest she fueled the flames of rumor and scandal, but her sleep-deprived, hungover brain could only think about finding Salki and explaining.
> Mayor liked him, she really did. He had been kind to her when everyone else in the camp saw her simply as slave, or - worse - food. He was the closest thing she had to a friend, especially now, with that whole 'Gol' business.
> She had to clear the air between them!
> Mayor let out a strangled squeak as she jumped to her hooves and bolted in the vague direction of Darga and Salki's tent.
> Her path took her past the large pile of ash from the last night's fire. Past the scene of the crime. She could still smell stale beer in the air.
> The merchants were packing up their wares on their donkeys, but Mayor paid them no mind and simply dodged around them. They yelled curses after her, but she ignored those too.
> The nomads were looking at her strangely. She imagined open disgust on some faces, and outright laughter on others. She didn't know which was worse, not yet, and she didn't even see clearly if those sentiments were real. They were real enough in her mind.
> She came up to the correct tent, but stopped dead in her tracks. Now that she was there, her rational mind finally caught up to Mayor Mare's panic and she began having second thoughts. Perhaps Xuan had been right and it would be best to stay out of everyone's sight until everyone had forgotten about it a little.
> Unfortunately the choice was taken away from her when the tent opened and Darga stepped out. The two stared at each other in shock for a while and Mayor felt like it was up to her to break the silence.
> Her ears splayed once more and she cleared her throat.
"[Er, I want to see Salki.]"
> "[No, you don't,]" the chieftain replied. She took a step forward and Mayor cringed, but she stood her ground. The woman was angry, but she wasn't furious. Maybe the situation wasn't quite as bad.
"[Darga, I got drunk, it wasn't-]"
> "[Shut up.]" The icy tone made Mayor's blood run cold. Darga hadn't started out furious, but she was rapidly getting there. The mare tried to look around the nomad, hoping for a glimpse of Salki who, she felt, might be able to shield her a little from his mother's wrath.
> "[What in the fuck is wrong with you anyway?!]" Darga continued and her face twisted into an ugly, scary visage which made Mayor cringe lower to the ground. "[Already there were rumors because Salki spent more time with you than with other nomads. I thought if you went away for a while we could put those rumors down, but-]"
> The tall nomad was now towering over the mare and she wasn't even trying to keep her voice down anymore. "[-but you go ahead and do something so fucking stupid...]"
> There was a moment of silence as Darga tried to come up with a good comparison and Mayor tried her best to defend herself, even if her voice was hardly more than a squeak:
"[I'm sorry! I had too much beer! I was-]"
> That earned her a swift kick in the ribs and Mayor yelped in a mixture of pain and shock, and leapt away. "[I don't fucking care! You drink and then you do this shit! Get out of my sight!]"
> On some level Darga was right and that stung more than the kick. Mayor had gotten herself drunk, more than once, and she had regretted it each time. Until last night she hadn't done anything quite as stupid, but she had come close.
"[I'm sorry!]" she repeated desperately "[Please, let me, I want to say sorry to Salki!]"
> "[You're not going anywhere near Salki, you whore! If you want to get fucked so badly, go to the donkeys. They're almost your species and no one will care about that. Just stay the fuck away from my son!]"
> There was no reasoning with Darga, not really. Not when she was like that, red in the face, spittle flying out of her mouth, bunched up fists. Mayor was worried the woman might lose it and start really beating her.
> Part of her felt like she might deserve it. She had known how sensitive the nomads were about these things. She had spent long hours with Xuan, trying to calm the young nomad after one of her shouting matches with her father.
> Hers and Buygra's families had nearly declared war when the two had finally revealed that they were together and expecting, and even now they hardly spoke a word with their parents.
> If the majority of the camp thought Salki was pining after someone not even of his own species there would be no chance the camp people would tolerate him as a chieftain.
> That had probably been the reason behind Willow's smirk, Mayor realized. He had heard bout her faux pas and he was happy that his chieftain-hood was that little bit nearer.
"[I didn't mean it.]"
> "[Just- get out of my sight before I wring your idiot neck, Meyermer. Go back to Intor. You and that whole backstabbing family deserve each other.]"
> Mayor couldn't hide the wince at those words and she hoped with all her heart that Darga's anger would cool off after a while.
> She really did like Salki and she desperately needed a friend in the camp. There was no point in begging, or apologizing, or trying to argue, not when Darga was like that, but Mayor was determined to try again in a few days, after the rumor mill had run its course.
> Darga was still standing over the mare, so Mayor kept herself close to the ground and moved away slowly, so as not to anger the woman any further.
> "[Good,]" Darga said with a hint of satisfaction. "[Go back there and if you have to fuck someone, try Willow. That would actually help me for a change!]"
> She was still yelling and Mayor saw a circle of curious faces which only served to make her shame burn more brightly. Of course they had heard it all, and the news would spread through the camp like fire.
> Her political instinct told her it would just add fuel to the flames. In the eyes of the people this would be a confirmation that Mayor really had done something inappropriate with Salki.
"It was just a kiss!" she growled to the onlookers, but she kept it too quiet for anyone to hear, and Equestrian, which they wouldn't understand.
> She considered slipping away and trying her luck in the wilderness again. She probably wouldn't make it very far before either the nomads tracked her down, or wild beasts tore her apart.
> At least, Mayor thought grimly, if it were the latter her embarrassment would be over.
> She considered going to Xuan, who was at least hopefully still a friend, but then Mayor changed her mind and went in search of Gol.
> They needed each other and Mayor needed to apologize to the young nomad. Yes, she had made a mistake and stole from the mare, but in retrospect her theft wasn't even that bad, not if she compared it to her own, alcohol-fueled blunder.
> Maybe Darga was right and Mayor should go wave her tail in one of the male donkey's faces. She had no doubt it would jump her and maybe a good rutting would drive these thoughts about Salki out of her mind.
> The mere thought of doing it nearly made her sick, so Mayor pushed the idea out of her mind and focused inward. She knew a bit about nomad culture and their ways now. Her cutie mark was in politics and diplomacy.
> She could find a way to put this embarrassing episode behind her and salvage her image. More importantly, she had to restore Salki's image, or Darga would never forgive her.
> That woman was exceptionally single-minded. She intended to lead the camp for as long as she could, and then pass the mantle on to her son.
> If Mayor helped with that, she would get back in Darga's good graces. Maybe, rather than running around and making a fool of herself, the mare could turn her talent toward something useful and find a way to reduce Intor's influence with the camp people.
> It'd be a better use of her time than getting drunk and making passes at nomad boys.
> Perhaps that plan made her feel a little better, or maybe it was the last of her headache going away, but Mayor felt a tiny bit more optimistic about the future.
> The situation could be salvaged. It had to be!
> Mayor remembered her earlier thoughts about Intor and decided that maybe the woman wasn't completely rotten. If she came to understand her a little, maybe she could broker some kind of a truce between her and Darga.
> That would be infinitely more useful than drinking herself stupid. The camp had to stand united, or they would be overrun by their enemies. The nomads had told Mayor as much countless times, but now she was starting to believe it, at least a little.
> She was little more than a slave, but at least this camp recognized her ability to talk and think. Another group might not accept her as easily, or might simply slaughter her for food as soon as they captured her.
> As much as Mayor detested violence, she did need the nomads around her to keep her safe, both from the beasts of the field and from other groups.
> That was the unfortunate reality of this world. The least she could do was pull her weight in the only way she knew how.
> No more beer. That was the first step.

> ~~~~

> Mayor Mare was in a very conflicted mood by the time she returned to Intor's tent. It looked pretty deserted, which suited her fine. It would give her a few minutes to plan her next action.
> On the one hoof she wanted to be angry, at the world, at the nomads, even at Salki, even though what had happened was in no way his fault. On the other, however, she was deeply embarrassed about her own behavior.
> She had gotten drunk and done something very inappropriate. She would never have even considered making such an advance back in Equestria. Was her self-control really that bad?
> Lacking anything better to do, Mayor fetched one of the animal skin rugs from the tent and tossed it down on the least soggy bit of ground near the firepit outside. It worked as a seat and it was dry on the top side, if only for as long as she remembered to keep her muddy hooves off it.
> She would be glad when the winter was over and ground dried out a little.
> Mayor considered building a fire and maybe getting started on some lunch, but her stomach still wasn't quite back to normal and she wasn't particularly hungry. She just stared at the dead pile of ash and planned her future.
> That was how Gol found her some time later. The girl stopped at a respectful distance and tried to decide whether she dared come closer or not.
> Mayor picked her out mainly by her smell and squinted to get a look at the nomad.
"[Come here,]" she invited and patted the rug beside her.
> It left a hoofprint in the fur, but Mayor just ignored it. Most things in the nomad camp were dirty from mud, so it didn't matter.
> "[You won't yell?]" Gol asked timidly and Mayor could see how the girl was gripping the hem of her cloak with both hands until her knuckles were white. The verdict obviously meant a lot to her and not for the first time Mayor thought she had been too harsh with the child.
> She patted the rug again and made her voice softer.
"[No. Come.]"
> That was enough of a promise and sufficiently different from whatever Gol had been expecting for her to approach. She paused for a moment only before resolutely sitting down so she was looking at the mare.
> Her feet, wrapped in the nomads' tough leather, left their own muddy imprints, but Mayor wasn't about to chide, not for something like that. Besides, while Intor had occasionally sent Mayor to wash their clothes, she had never seemed to care when things got dirty.
> Not particularly fussy, these people.
> The pair watched each other for a moment and then Mayor lowered her gaze down to where Gol was leaning on the rung. She had balled her hand up in a fist and was resting on her knuckles. That probably wasn't very comfortable, Mayor imagined, but she didn't bring it up.
> Gol was the first to break the silence: "[I said I'm sorry.]"
"[I know. It is okay. I forgive.]"
> This took the nomad aback and she raised her eyebrows at the mare in surprise. "[Really? You- you are still my friend?]"
> That was a bit more of a decision, but Mayor didn't take too long to consider it. The nomad had apologized again, after all. In the end she let her ears splay and took a deep breath.
"[Yes. But no more stealing, okay?]"
> The words were like magic and Gol's breath caught in her throat as the emotion swelled. She jerked toward the mare, but stopped herself at the last moment. The look she gave the mare was pained, but only for a moment until Gol made her decision and lunged.
> She tossed her arms around Mayor and pressed her cheek against the mare's. "[Thank you! I promise! Thank you!]"
> Her child-like joy was infectious and Mayor began to smile as well. She wanted to put her hooves around the girl, but when she lifted her forelegs she saw just how badly they were caked with mud, so she lowered them back to her sides.
> Gol eventually let her go, but she kept her hands on Mayor's withers. "[Mother got it back,]" she told her earnestly, glad to be delivering good news. "[She got you a full bag of grain. It's in the tent!]"
> That was good news and it would make her life quite comfortable until the spring. Mayor felt a little like celebrating and she beamed at the nomad girl.
"[That is good. Want to help me make- um...]"
> She didn't know the word because it had never come up. She tried to combine it, but couldn't. She needed Gol's help.
"[Um, what do you call- food from grain?]"
> Gol looked at her strangely. "[Some people put grain in stew, but it is not very good. Rice is better. Grain is usually food for animals. Oh, they say beer is made from grain, but we don't know how.]"
> Had she ever seen the nomads eat bread? Mayor couldn't think of any such situation. All at once she realized that this was one thing she could introduce to the camp, an actual Equestrian invention she could bring to the nomads!
> The only problem, the mare realized with her ears drooping, was that she didn't have any yeast. Was there a way to make yeast? It was some kind of a plant, wasn't it?
> She thought back to her school days, but unfortunately she didn't think she knew enough about the topic. Yeast had always just... been there in Equestria. Nopony thought about making it from scratch because nopony needed to!
"[Shit, I don't know how... You don't have this food? Grain, um... mix. No, not mix...]"
> It would be difficult to explain, but Mayor wanted to try anyway. It helped that Gol was watching her with keen interest. She mimed grinding her hooves together.
"[Like this! Grain here, crush. Crushed grain. You know?]"
> Gol brightened up a little. "Teer-em-dek?" she asked uncertainly. "[It is when you put grain on a rock and crush it with another rock. You get 'teer-em'. It is easier to cook in a broth.]"
> It sounded correct, if not exactly what she wanted. Mayor seized on the word.
"[Okay, 'teer-em'. You mix with water and salt and something else. Then near the fire, it becomes hard...]"
> At this Gol looked completely blank. "[It does? I never heard of anything like that. Sorry, Meyermer.]"
> She nearly growled in frustration as Mayor wrenched herself away and jumped to her hooves. She began pacing to and fro around the camp fire as she thought. She could probably beat the grain with a couple of rocks like Gol had said and make at least an approximation of flour that way.
> There was no real way for her to get yeast and she didn't even know where to start. Was it a plant, or maybe some kind of a fungus? If some trader didn't bring it, it was unlikely Mayor would be able to make or grow it herself.
> That left unleavened bread. She knew that it existed, but had never made it herself. That said, she had never made regular bread either, but at least that she had seen done by her mother a long time ago and could probably remember the steps.
> The kind without yeast would just be Mayor working on hearsay and vague ideas of how it all worked. She would have to experiment.
> Her hoof paused in mid-step as she thought back to her provisions. She still had some potatoes with Xuan, and half a bag of both grain and rice. If what Gol had told her was true, she had another whole bag of grain in Intor's tent.
> More importantly, could she believe Intor when the woman said it would be her duty to feed their servant? Perhaps she could afford to spend some of the grain on an experiment. If it worked, it could be big.
> The people, Gol had said, fed grain to animals. If she could introduce an entirely new type of food to them, it would increase their variety and make it easier to survive winter. They would be bound to be grateful for it!
> It might even mollify Darga somewhat, especially if she was one of the first to learn the new recipe.
> That decided her and Mayor pointed a hoof at Gol. Her tail swished in excitement and she couldn't keep herself from smiling.
"[Good, I will try! Make a fire, okay? I need to go find... I need rock. A big rock!]"
> She didn't have an oven, but a crazy idea occurred. If she found a flat rock, large and smooth enough, she could place it by the fire. She could put the bread right on it and turn it often, and it would probably bake well enough. More importantly, if she had a large, flat rock, she would be able to grind the grain into flour.
"[I will go find a rock. Don't make a fire, but make- um... wood, bring wood and tinder. We will make fire when I am back.]"
> Her excitement was rubbing off on Gol and the girl was grinning happily. She jumped up from the rug and was in the process of dragging it aside so it wouldn't get singed. She flashed that smile toward the mare. "[Okay, I will get everything ready for a fire. Do you need anything else?]"
"[I will bring rocks. You get the grain and some salt. Oh, we will need water, can you get water?]"
> As soon as it was out of her mouth Mayor changed her mind. The easiest way for Gol to fetch water was with the skins, and that would give it that annoying stale-meat taste. It would also make washing themselves a whole lot harder. She held up a hoof.
"[No, no, I will get water, after I get a big rock. You get small rocks from the river. Make them clean, big enough to hold in your hand, okay?]"
> Gol didn't seem to completely understand what the mare wanted, so she looked around for inspiration. "[Why so many rocks?]"
"[Not many. Only two or three. I need to crush grain, to make teer-em.]"
> That clicked back to what they were discussing before and Gol brightened up. "[Ah! I see. I will get you flat rocks for 'teer-em-dek'!]"
"[Good girl! I will be back with big rock.]"
> "[Why big rock? It is easier to make teer-em with smaller rocks.]"
> Mayor was anxious to rush off to the stream bank, where she thought she would have the best chance of finding a big and smooth enough stone for her use. She pranced in place out of sheer excitement, thrilled to be doing something truly productive.
"[I will show you. Too hard to explain. Go! Meet here soon!]"
> She saw Gol's curious look, but the nomad girl didn't press the issue. There were no more questions and Mayor darted off as fast as she could safely trot without slipping and falling flat on her muzzle on the soft, squelching mud.

> ~~~~

> The result of her effort was mixed, but Mayor decided to count it as a win. While it was true that the loaf she and Gol had produced was a little gritty and slightly burned, but it was the closest thing to bread she had tasted in months.
> It brought back memories of better times and, more powerfully, her friends. How many times had Mayor stopped at the Sugarcube Corner for a quick coffee and a muffin while the smell of freshly baked bread wafted in the air?
> Luckily the unleavened loaf she had produced wasn't quite the same, but it was close enough to bring tears of nostalgia to her eyes.
> She had cut several large pieces from it for herself and Gol, but opted to leave more than half of it intact to show Intor and perhaps Darga, later on.
> Presently Mayor was sitting on her rug by the fire and smiled widely as Gol exclaimed over her morsel. The poor nomad girl couldn't help but talk with her mouth full as she kept nibbling at the bread in her hands.
> "[Wow! Meyermer, this is- what did you call it? It's good! It's food from grain! Mummph- mmmfmhg!]" The last bit of that was lost in incomprehensible mumbles as Gol shoved another small piece into her mouth.
"[It is called-]"
> Come to think of it, Mayor realized that the nomads would not have a word for bread. It was clear that at least Gol had never heard of anything like it. She might as well give them the Equestrian word.
"Bread. [It is called] bread."
> Gol swallowed her mouthful and tried to shape her lips around the unusual sound. "[Bred?]"
"[Yes, good.]"
> "Bred," the girl said to herself one more time as she looked at the vanishingly small piece left in her hand. She cast a longing glance at the rest of the loaf, which Mayor had wrapped in a bit of burlap since she didn't have anything better.
> The girl kept her resolve, though, and pushed the final bit into her mouth. It looked as if she intended to chew it for a good, long while.
> Part of that was necessity, Mayor knew. She didn't have as much trouble with her earth pony strength and her tough, flat molars. Eating grain wasn't commonly done in modern Equestria, but her grass and yam diet of the past few months had shown Mayor that ponies weren't all that far removed from the ancestor stock.
> It wasn't so for the nomads. They had incisors and canines, Mayor had seen that and it had caused her some discomfort until she got used to it, but overall their teeth weren't as good with tougher food. Nomads really did rely on their cooking and processing of their edibles.
> The flour Mayor and Gol had been able to grind between rocks ended up being quite coarse and... lumpy in places. She had done what she could with all of her earth pony prowess, but getting smooth, finely-ground flour would still require a proper mill.
> More problematic was the chaff. Mayor didn't know how ponies dealt with it, but the best she could come up with was to have Gol pick out as much as she was able with her nimble fingers.
> There had to be a better way and the mare was determined to think of it, but for now it would do. Perhaps they could employ the nomad children for the painstaking, delicate works. Their fingers were smaller and more precise than those of their parents' and they could usually see better too.
> The end result was that a lot of the chaff made it into the loaf, which then grit between her teeth. It also lent the bread a more earthy taste, although that might have been the 'unleavened' part, or even the impossibility of washing her hooves as thoroughly as Mayor would have liked.
> Still, whatever the comparison to Equestrian best bread, it was something new and obviously quite tasty to nomads, at least judging from the faces Gol was making and the way she was licking her lips and her fingers clean.
> It was a source of food hitherto unavailable to the people, too. Gol had said they sometimes ground a bit of flour to add more substance to their stew or broth, but it had sounded like a very occasional thing, done more out of necessity than desire.
> All in all, Mayor was quite pleased with herself and she couldn't help bounding to her hooves when she spotted a familiar nomad approaching their fire.
> Intor. The mare still wasn't completely sure if she liked the woman, but she had decided to give her a second chance, especially after she had gotten the worth of her stolen mane back from the merchants.
> Her expression must have been a complete surprise to the woman, because Intor came to a stop by the fire pit and stared around in bewilderment.
> "[What happened? Why are these rocks here?]"
"[I teach Gol new food! Food from grain! It is good! Food from-] Equestria!"
> Mayor was aware that the nomads had their own word for the place they had foalnapped her from, but she refused it and always referred to her home as 'Equestria'. Its proper name in its proper language.
> Her words didn't have as much effect as Mayor had hoped, and Intor merely looked around again, mildly interested but not jumping with excitement. In fact, the mare was clearly the more animated of the two!
> She tried, vainly, to still her madly swishing tail and her dancing ears as she cleared her throat and sat on her haunches.
"[Here! Try! We left some for you. It is called-] bread."
> With that she pulled the bundle of burlap cloth from beside the fire, where it had been keeping warm, and offered it up to Intor. Only too late did she remember her wish to also show it to Darga.
"[Um, only try a little, yes? We want to show others.]"
> This was more interesting and with a concrete example of their discovery in her hands even stoic Intor couldn't remain completely cold. She'd been carrying a leather sack, which plopped on the ground, forgotten, as the woman unwrapped the loaf.
> She examined it from all sides, even sniffed at it. The ritual lasted so long that Gol lost her nerve and ran to her mother. "[It's good, Mother!]" she said, hand already reaching for more. "[Here! Take some, it's just grain and water. Here-]"
> There was a sharp slap as Intor smacked her daughter's hand away from the treat. She scowled for a moment and Gol withdrew, hurt plainly evident in her eyes. She didn't know what to do with herself after what had clearly been a reprimand, so Mayor shuffled over and pushed her head under Gol's limp fingers.
> "[Patience, child,]" Intor said, as if she hadn't just struck her own daughter. She looked around for a good place, then put the bread down on the flat rock by the fire. "[You cooked it on this?]" she asked, looking straight at Mayor.
"[Yes. We ground grain and Gol picked- bad parts. Um, grain-skins. Gol did because I can't with hooves.]"
> That earned Gol a quick, contemplative glance from her mother, but it didn't look as if any kind of praise was forthcoming. Then Intor looked at the loaf once more. "[You cut this?]"
> Mayor didn't answer this time, but nudged the younger nomad with a hoof. Gol took out her flint knife from her belt and held it out to her mother. "[We used this. It is easy to cut.]"
> Intor took the tool, but kept her eyes on the loaf. She murmured something inaudible to herself, then sliced away one corner. She left the knife on the rock and turned the bit of bread around in her fingers.
> Both Mayor and Gol watched with bated breath as Intor sniffed it again, then put it in her mouth. She chewed for a while, thoughtfully, her eyes straying up to look at the sky in deep concentration.
> After she swallowed, she reached up with her fingers and picked a bit of grain husk from her teeth. She examined it on her finger, then flicked it away. Her gaze returned to Mayor and Gol. "[You will need to do better and remove the dead parts of grain. Donkeys and horses and-]" she focused on Mayor for the next word "[-ponies can eat that, but we nomads cannot.]"
> Even in her praise she was criticising, though Mayor didn't contradict the woman. Her ears lowered slightly as she remembered her own impatience and how she had almost pushed Gol away from the rock. The girl hadn't been quite ready to call her winnowing complete, but the mare had wanted to get on with it.
> "[Yes, Mother,]" Gol said demurely, but she was smiling a little.
> Intor gave another nod, then bit off a little more of the slice in her hand. She chewed it again, and swallowed while the other two watched in silence. "[This is a good discovery. It will allow us to use grain in winter. This is good.]"
> The girl and the mare looked at one another and shared a proud smile. True, it wasn't really a discovery, not for Mayor, but for never even having baked regular bread herself, and only having the vaguest of ideas how to create flour, the result was quite good, even if she did say so herself.
> "[Go, show this to Darga. The whole camp should know of this.]"
> This bit made Mayor blink in surprise and she couldn't quite pin down what Intor was thinking.
"[What? Why? Uh, I will show Darga, yes, but I thought- you no want to show Darga. Maybe you say: 'It is a secret, only for Intor to know.']"
> This made the woman grimace and her tone became more forceful, more serious. She punctuated her words by jabbing her hand toward the mare, even though she still held a bit of bread.
> "[This is good for the whole camp! I am not so petty I would keep something like this for myself! The good of the camp is my good! Never let it be said I care not for the people in the camp!]"
> That made sense and Mayor felt a little chagrined. It also raised her level of respect for the wily woman. She knew how to play politics, that much was clear even if it hadn't been before. Of course she wouldn't outright steal from the camp, or deny them something which could ensure their survival.
> She was right - if the camp lived and flourished, so did Intor and her family. If the camp fell, so did she.
> It still felt as if Mayor was missing something, but she decided not to dwell on it. She hadn't liked the way Intor had struck Gol merely for the child's enthusiasm, but she couldn't find real fault of how she'd accepted the invention and outright instructed Mayor to share it with everyone.
> The mare pushed the bread back into its burlap sack and went to pick it up, but changed her mind at the last minute. Her eyes strayed to Gol and she made a decision. If her mother didn't show her the praise the girl deserved, someone else should.
"[Take, Gol. It easier for your hands. Bring it, we will show Darga. We will show her and Salki.]"
> The young nomad jerked in surprise and she half-reached for the loaf before she could stop herself and look at her mother. "[Is that okay, mother?]"
> Intor just shrugged a little and returned to where she had dropped her own bag. "[If that is what Meyermer wants. Hurry back, I will have work for you.]"
> Gol couldn't quite conceal her smile, even in the face of more chores. "[Yes, Mother!]" she said and grabbed the sack with the bread. She looked to Mayor expectantly and smoothly fell in step with the mare as they headed out.
> The day would be salvaged after all, it seemed.

> ~~~~

> Mayor Mare had wanted to get her freshly-baked bread to Darga while it was still warm, but it didn't happen. When they reached the correct tent and Gol gave her the bundle back, Mayor clutched it against her barrel and felt that it had gotten cold.
> They had agreed that the mare should be the one to present it, which meant that Mayor had to balance on her haunches and grip the bread awkwardly between her forelegs, while Gol went to poke into the tent and ask the woman out.
> If she was even home, that was. Mayor watched with bated breath as Gol lifted the tent flap and looked inside. She murmured something and hurriedly stepped away. It looked promising.
> A few moments Salki came out and froze when he saw his pony friend. His eyes grew wide and he flushed a little while his mouth opened and closed, but no words came out. Mayor felt a momentary surge of irrational panic as she tried to think up some kind of an apology or at least an explanation.
> Just as she drew breath to tell him she had been drunk the young nomad gasped and jumped away. His hand went to his rump and he rubbed the sore spot where Darga had slapped him to get him to move.
> Unlike her son, Darga didn't freeze with uncertainty, but her face darkened when she saw who it was. "[You again...]"
"[Wait! Darga. I have food,]" Mayor hurried to explain. "[New food - from grain! Here! Here! Try!]"
> She lifted the bundle as best she could, clutched as it was between her forelegs, Luckily balance was not a big problem, even sitting awkwardly on her haunches, as long as she didn't mind her unclothed rump pressing against the cold, wet ground.
> Mayor gritted her teeth and bore it.
> "[What is that?]" Darga asked, her foul mood momentarily forgotten in her curiosity. "[Grain? Impossible.]"
> This time Gol answered before Mayor could: "[It's true! We made it together, it is teer-em-dek grain!]"
> It was a crazy enough claim that both Darga and Salki forgot their anger or embarrassment and came closer to see. The woman grabbed the bundle of burlap from Mayor and her eyes widened when she felt a solid mass inside. No doubt, Mayor realized, she had been expecting something more like grain.
> She unwrapped it and stared at the result. In particular she seemed interested in the interior, which could be seen where Mayor, Gol and Intor had cut pieces from the loaf.
> After a few seconds' inspection Darga took the whole lump out and held the empty bag to Salki, who dutifully took it. Mayor remained upright so she could see better what the tall woman was doing.
> "[Hmm, this does not look like grain. It does not look like teer-em either,]" she said. She hadn't smelled or tasted it yet, and her hands dropped a little as she refocused her attention on Mayor. "[Explain. What is this? How did you do it?]"
> "[Try it! It is good!]" Gol said, too excited to keep her hands still. She was fiddling with the neckline of her animal skin gown and Mayor could also see the girl was biting her lip in anticipation.
> Unfortunately Darga didn't seem to be listening to the young nomad and kept looking at Mayor.
"[We ground it- the teer-em. With rocks, and then we took- um, we took dead grain out. Nomads can't eat that, but they can eat teer-em!]"
> Once again Darga lifted the loaf and this time she sniffed at it, albeit cautiously. "[That is not everything. What else?]"
> Mayor didn't need more prompting to keep explaining.
"[Yes! Yes! Um, we put water in teer-em. It makes it... it does...]"
> She cast a hopeful glance at Gol, who was only too happy to supply the words Mayor lacked: "[It became sticky. It was like soft cheese and we could make it into a ball.]"
"[That's right! Sticky. Then we put it on a big rock near fire. It cooked and now it is this. 'Bread.']"
> Gol nodded sagely, grinning. "[Bred,]" she repeated after Mayor Mare.
> Darga didn't look quite convinced, though implications of such a discovery were already distracting her from her earlier flash of anger. The matter of Mayor's indiscretion with Salki would not be forgotten, her glare seemed to say, but it would be delayed.
> Mayor lowered her ears in tacit acknowledgement and couldn't quite keep herself from swallowing a sudden lump in her throat. Making a move on the chieftain's son was off limits, at least if you were the wrong species.
> Unfortunately that thought reminded the mare and she glanced at Salki. Their eyes met and the red tint in his face grew more pronounced even as he hurriedly averted his gaze. The mare did her best to school her expression, but even her considerable political practice couldn't quite stop her ears from drooping slightly.
> It was pure luck that Darga couldn't read pony expressions as well as her son and didn't pay Mayor's ears any mind. Instead she lifted up the loaf and addressed the mare: "[What am I supposed to do with this? I cut it? I see it has already been cut.]"
> The change of topic was a welcome distraction and Mayor smiled a little as she launched into further explanation and concentrated once more on her culinary skill rather than her mistake.
"[Yes! With knife, cut some and eat. It is good! Um, it is better when it is warm, but it is still good!]"
> "[Here. hold this,]" Darga told her son and handed him the loaf. he had to juggle a little to keep both the burlap sack and the food in his hands, but he managed to grasp both while his mother took out her flint knife.
> It was set in what looked like a horn from one of the cervid species and Mayor couldn't take her eyes off the thing. She had seen that other nomads, especially the wealthier and more powerful males, carried knives which were set in bits of bone to make them easier to hold.
> She had also seen that some nomads attached these bits of flint to straight wooden sticks to make crude spears, but this was the first time Mayor saw a horn, or an antler to be used for that same purpose.
> For some reason that made her think of the kirin, or perhaps of one of the elusive, shy deer species dotted around Everfree. Weird, she briefly reflected, how she couldn't picture a dragon in its place.
> There was no time for more rumination as Darga inexpertly cut a misshapen piece of bread from the loaf. She held it in one hand and turned it this way and that to inspect it from all sides as she returned the knife to her belt.
> Then she sniffed the piece and nibbled on a bit of the crust.
> Mayor held her breath as she waited for the verdict, but she couldn't quite keep a faint, self-satisfied smile from her muzzle. She saw from the corner of her eye that Gol had a very similar expression, while Salki looked quite entranced by the spectacle.
> The chieftain chewed thoughtfully, then swallowed. Mayor was half-expecting a comment like Intor had given, that they should have winnowed it better, but no such criticism was forthcoming. After Darga had swallowed her mouthful, she took a larger bite and chewed some more.
> Her hand shifted and she offered what was left of her slice to Salki as well. Unfortunately the young nomad had his hands full with the burlap and the loaf, and immediately began looking for a likely place to put them down.
> Mayor jerked to go help him, but Gol was faster and the nomad girl dashed forward to take both from his hands. She remained standing next to him as Salki grabbed the piece and went through pretty much the same ritual his mother had done.
> He sniffed it, and inspected it from all sides. He paid especially close attention to where Darga had bitten off a chunk.
> The nomads weren't squeamish, especially where it came to food and their close family, so Salki didn't hesitate before biting in himself. His reaction was slightly different, though. His eyes widened and he stared incredulously, first at Mayor, then at Gol.
> "[You made this?!]" he asked, as if suddenly finding it very hard to believe.
> Before Mayor could answer Gol almost jumped a little for joy and began babbling: "[Yes! It was Meyermer's idea, but I helped. We made teer-em with a few rocks and then I took grain skins out of the teer-em. Then we put some water in the teer-em and a bit of salt, and Meyermer said to roll it around the rock and push it, until it was a ball!]"
> Mayor Mare tuned out the rest of the explanation, especially once she realized that Gol had remembered the steps exactly and wouldn't miss or embellish any. Instead she returned her gaze to Darga's face and caught the woman's slight, approving nod.
> It probably wasn't intended for the mare to see, but she had seen it and couldn't keep her own face from a happy little smile.
"[You like? It is better warm. I will make more- I will show you, and you can try warm.]"
> Darga's gaze went to where Gol was gesturing wildly with the loaf of bread in one hand, and the burlap sack in the other. She was miming how they had kneaded the dough and Salki was watching in rapt attention.
> "[It is a very important discovery,]" Darga finally said to Mayor. Some of the hard edge returned to her eyes as she stared at the mare, but she kept her tone calm and civil. "[How did you think of it? Is this something you do in your- in your world?]"
"[Yes, in Equestria. It is called 'bread' and we have- I do not know the name. It is a plant of some kind, we put it in the flour. It makes bread go big and soft. it is better.]"
> Darga didn't comment on the story right away. She looked up and scanned her gaze around the camp. A few of the nomads were out, but none were paying the group any attention. The waiting before the verdict was making Mayor shuffle her hooves uncomfortably and flick her tail before she could still herself.
> At last the chieftain spoke again: "[Can you find this plant? It makes this- this 'bread' grow bigger. That would be useful.]"
> It was a bit hard to admit and Mayor felt her ears involuntarily lower as she heaved a sigh.
"[Sorry. I do not remember what plant. I don't know. I know how it smells, maybe we can ask traders?]"
> "[We will do so. It is still a good discovery. I will take what is left and show it to the elders today. Tomorrow you will show us how it is made. You and Gol. What do you need?]"
> It was going pretty much the way Mayor had hoped it would and she smiled to herself. Being seen bringing this kind of discovery would finally convince the majority of the people that she was a contributing member. Maybe it would be enough to mark her as one of the camp.
> Perhaps it wouldn't be sufficient to stop her being their slave, but it would certainly give her some influence and lend her words some weight.
"[I will. We have stones at Intor's tent, but maybe people can find a bigger stone. We need a flat stone to mix flour and water. Flat and clean. We will need salt and grain.]"
> Darga nodded, not much surprised after having heard Gol's explanation. "[You will get these things. I will send out some people. Anything else?]"
> Mayor's eyes went to the girl and she got an idea. Perhaps she could be a bridge between the two squabbling families?
"[Gol must help me. She did it today and she knows what to do. Gol must share this discovery.]"
> It was magnanimous of her, perhaps even too much. Mayor nearly surprised herself with the demand and she quickly tried to analyze where the idea had come from, and why. Perhaps she still felt guilty for snapping at the girl, or for making her follow into the icy cold stream the other day?
> Maybe it was simpler even than that. Perhaps all Mayor wanted was a good, true friend, and this would certainly be a gesture which would gain her a lot of gratitude from the nomad girl.
> Perhaps she was trying to ensure that she still had a friend, just in case she had lost Salki with that drunken kiss.
> She looked at the young man and saw that he was in animated discussion with Gol. Both of them were smiling and there was a definite tinge of red in the girl's face.
> Not only that; Mayor could see how Tightly Gol was holding the loaf of bread as she tried desperately to keep her hands still. Fingers were the nomad equivalent of expressive pony ears, Mayor was learning.
> Whether Darga saw anything unusual happening between the two youths or not, the woman didn't show it. She simply cleared her throat to get their attention, and held out her hand for the loaf. Gol didn't even pause, nor look at Mayor for confirmation before handing it over and launching right back into her story.
> It was about how she had carried Mayor home from the party the previous night, and suddenly it was Mayor's face which was burning bright red.
> She didn't really want to hear that, and she definitely didn't want to interrupt Gol in the middle of the story and remind the two nomads that she was there. She would find Salki some other time and apologize, Mayor decided. It would be a good idea to let the emotions cool a little anyway.
> The two were caught up in the story anyway, so it didn't take particular skill for Mayor to sneak away, right on Darga's heels. She kept up with the chieftain for a few more seconds, but then continued straight when Darga turned away.
> She would go fetch some water and then tell Intor that her daughter would be along a little later. The girl deserved some leisure time, especially if it brought the two people whom Mayor considered the nearest things to friends she had in the camp closer.

> ~~~~

"[No. No. Stop water. More- uh, more flour.]"
> Mayor Mare paused for a moment and took a deep breath. She absolutely didn't want to become frustrated at the children.
> She was standing beside her large, flat stone, the one she had dragged into the camp the other day, while the two new children were sitting on a rug opposite her. They didn't seem to be enjoying themselves with their hands full of sticky dough and Mayor was beginning to regret asking for their help.
> When she had mentioned to Intor that the children's fingers would be better at picking out chaff from the flour, the woman had immediately agreed that Mayor should take charge of Hisein's new slaves for the day.
> That part had gone well and the two young nomads quickly understood what was expected of them. Encouraged, Mayor had decided to have them do the next part too, rather than send them back to their owner.
> The only problem was that she didn't speak their language and the two didn't know much nomad speak just yet. That had been partially solved by having Gol there as an interpreter. The nomad girl was learning the strange and flowery-sounding speech from Hisein, who was the camp's expert.
> That said, Gol didn't know a whole lot just yet, but with repetition and miming she could get Mayor's points across more often than not.
> At the moment she was trying, yet again, to get them to understand how flour dough worked. So far, poor Gol had had to jump in twice to take the gooey mess from their hands and prevent precious grain from going to waste.
> Mayor Mare had gotten several sacks of it after Darga had shown her 'discovery' to some of the other influential members of the tribe, and now she was supposed to turn one full sack into as much bread as she could produce, to be given out to people at that night's gathering at the fire.
> She couldn't do it alone, but few other people in the camp had time. The mare glanced over, where a few of the older women were working at a similar rock. She saw one of the younger boys come running with a clay pot of water.
> So far her invention was proving to be quite a hit. The nomads were traditionalists, that much Mayor had learned in her time there, but they recognized an important source of food, especially for the winter months.
> The mare let out another sigh and focused again on what Gol was doing. The girl had gained some prestige among the nomads with her quick mastery of the new art of baking, and she was demonstrating both for the slave children and some of the other interested onlookers how she puffed some flour on her hands to keep the dough from sticking while she kneaded it.
> The girl, Ning, seemed a bit interested, but the boy, Fen Ko was a little older and obviously found the task demeaning and frustrating. They jabbered to each other in their soft, fluid language and to Mayor it sounded as if the girl was chiding her brother.
> She seemed to be winning, at least judging by Fen Ko's resigned expression, and she flashed a small smile at Gol. "[Sorrie, Miss. We sorrie. Try again.]"
> It was perhaps at the limit of her nomad vocabulary, but she had answered in Gol's language to show willing.
> Both Mayor Mare and Gol understood that it would do little good to explain again with words the children were barely beginning to understand, so the young woman simply said the word which Mayor thought meant 'Watch me', and began to demonstrate again.
> She had her hands coated with flour and she gathered a small pile on the smooth rock in front of herself. She poured some water from a roughly-carved wooden cup Intor had found somewhere, and added a small pinch of salt.
> The mess quickly became sticky as she mixed it and the nomad paused to show the two children how the wet flour clung to her fingers. When she had their full attention, she scooped more flour and went on kneading it. Pretty soon, and after a few more pinches of fresh flour, Gol's hands were clear and the dough stuck together in a rough lump.
> It was coarse and there were bits of kernel still visible, but it behaved almost like the flour Mayor knew. It was similar enough that Mayor had been able to use some of the methods she remembered from watching her mother do it.
> In less than a day Gol had mastered Mayor's half-made-up skills and now she was quickly surpassing them. She tried explaining again in what sounded like a broken and halting version of the language the kids used between themselves, and the girl, at least, was nodding slightly.
> She nudged her brother and repeated whatever Gol had just said, except a lot more fluently and with some embellishments. She gathered another small pile of flour from the center of the rock and reached for the cup of water.
> It was empty, but one of Mayor's big clay pots was nearby and it was the work of moments for the girl to fetch some.
> She began kneading the goop, but Gol spoke up and pointed to the salt. Unfortunately the girl already had her hands completely covered with the sticky dough, so she had to implore her brother to take a pinch.
> As she started kneading again Mayor spotted Hisein walking over. The two children had not seen him yet and the big man stopped just behind them. When he spoke up they both jumped and the girl nearly dropped her ball of dough on the ground in her panic.
> "[They causing you any trouble? If they are not learning quickly enough I will give them a couple of lashes each and we'll see if that helps.]"
> Despite her best efforts Mayor couldn't help but remember her frustration just a few minutes earlier and her ears automatically lowered with shame and guilt. It was pure luck that Hisein was completely clueless of pony body language, though Gol gave her a puzzled look.
"[No, no, they are good,]" Mayor quickly said, even if it wasn't completely true.
> She gave Hisein the best smile she could muster, all the while trying not to wince. She hadn't seen it herself, but Gol had told her that the hunter often lost patience with his two slaves and struck them.
> Only with his hand, Gol assured the mare, but Mayor looked at those enormous forearms and it didn't make her feel any better.
> The hunter then spoke in the children's own language, or at least much closer to it than what Gol could do. It had been one of the reasons the two had been put with him. Out of all the nomads in the camp, he knew their tongue best, so the other camp members thought it would be the quickest way to have their new slaves learn.
> Whatever Hisein said, it wasn't nice, Mayor could tell that much. Fen Ko paled at the words and hurriedly grabbed his own little pile of flour as he imitated his sister. Soon both their heads were bent over their work, which made Hisein smile again.
> "[See?]" he told Mayor, but looked at Gol. "[Just tell them that the next time they are slow or stupid.]"
> Mayor swallowed a lump, but couldn't help her own morbid curiosity.
"[W-W-What did you, um tell them?]"
> At this the hunter laughed uproariously. "[Ha! You of all people should know, or did Intor never threaten you? Did Darga not raise you properly either? I said: 'apply yourselves or I will take you out by the river, where no one can hear you, and beat you with a rope'.]"
> Mayor winced as she caught Ning's terrified, tear-filled gaze. True, she was also a slave to these people, but not nearly as much so as the two children. She, at least, hadn't had her parents killed right in front of her, and she didn't have the constant threat of violence hanging over her head.
> In fact, some days, as the mare came and went pretty much as she pleased, she could almost forget that she was in the nomad camp against her will.
> Only for a few minutes, but it was the closest she could come to feeling like her own mare once again.
"[They are learning,]" she said again to confirm. "[Do not worry, they will learn how to do this.]"
> Again the hunter chuckled to himself. "[They better. At least this one,]" he said and laid his hand on Ning's head to tousle her hair. "[She isn't strong enough for real work and she can't hunt. There's only one thing left after that.]"
> The wink he gave Mayor made her sick to her stomach, but she swallowed her saliva which suddenly felt like acid, and managed a single, noncommittal nod. In this one case it was a blessing that Ning couldn't understand Hisein's words, although something told Mayor that he had already explained to her what would await if she didn't obey.
> The guilt from how frustrated she had let herself become at their simple failures rose up again and Mayor's ears folded down once more, completely without her conscious effort. She wondered if she could somehow persuade Darga to take the two youths.
> She wondered if she could somehow get them under her wing, so to speak. It was the only way she could be sure they'd be safe.
> True, they were nomads, the same race who had foalnapped Mayor Mare, sold Rainy Day off and killed their parents, but they were still children and that meant a whole lot to the mare, for reasons she couldn't quite put to words yet.
> It was wrong, even more so than what was happening to her.
> For now, what she could do was teach them the skill of bread-making, which would make the two more useful and more valuable. Fen Ko might think such work was demeaning, but it was better than being beaten.
> Then, Mayor decided, she would think of other Equestrian tools and techniques she could bring to the nomads. Food-related would be the easiest to sell, at first, but she could perhaps bring some other innovations eventually.
> She would make sure to include the two young slaves, if for no other reason than to keep them under her watchful gaze.
> As if she could do anything if Hisein decided to really beat them, or worse. She nearly laughed at herself, ruefully. She couldn't do much, but she felt she would no longer be a pony if she didn't try.

> ~~~~

> The demonstration Darga had planned for that evening turned into impromptu festivities. There was singing and what passed for music among the people, and it looked like the merriment would last long into the night.
> It wasn't every day, Mayor supposed when she thought about it, that a discovery as important as bread was introduced to a primitive culture. The people weren't exactly starving, but Mayor had overheard Intor explain to Willow that the camp was only a few failed hunts away from starvation at the best of times.
> Sure, they could take from their donkey herd, but that would leave fewer animals to breed in the spring and would make the next winter harder.
> The mare had never actually realized that they were in such a danger, but in light of this news she began to understand, at least partially, why they had reacted so strongly to the neighboring tribe encroaching into their hunting grounds.
> Having another source of cheap food was an invaluable boon to the people and the festivity around Mayor proved it. A few of the nomads had dragged in their crude instruments, which mostly consisted of primitive drums and hollow bits of wood to make a strange, primitive, percussion and brass music.
> The mare herself was standing by the large fire, staring into the flames and thinking of home. If she closed her eyes so that she only saw the faint orange glow through her eyelids, and if she then folded down her ears to mute the shouts and laughter and talk to an unintelligible background rumble, she could almost convince herself that she was back home.
> Just a friendly festival with a bonfire, out near the Apple Acres, Mayor kept telling herself. For a second or two she nearly believed it.
> The illusion fell away when a hand touched her back. She blinked her eyes in an effort to get rid of the blur, but then gave up and looked at who wanted her.
> It was Salki, face solemn as he crouched beside her. "[We have to talk.]"
> Mayor gave a half-nod, but didn't say anything. She knew they needed to clear the air between them, but she had absolutely no idea how to go about it. It didn't help that she barely knew the language.
> Luckily the boy had come prepared and his fingers dug a little deeper into her coat, as if he was leaning on her for support. He took a breath and closed his eyes. "[Do- Do you like me?]"
> It wasn't what she had been expecting, even though it probably should have been. Mayor looked around for Darga, but the chieftain was nowhere to be found. She couldn't see Gol, or Intor either, and there was a small empty circle around her. No one would hear if she lowered her voice like Salki had done.
"[N-No. I mean yes! I mean no-]" she fumbled.
> She stopped herself and took a deep breath. Salki had shifted at her confused answer and Mayor slipped from under his hand so she could look directly at him. Crouching, he was below her head height, which maybe helped her nerves a little.
"[Look, I like you as friend. You are my friend- a good friend maybe. Understand? I like you that way, but not- not for...]"
> For once she was glad that she didn't have the words, because already her muzzle was beet red, nearly matching the color of her mane.
"[Y-You understand?]"
> There was nothing for a bit and Salki put his hands together. Mayor knew what to look for and saw how he was gripping one finger with the others in an effort not to play with them and betray his nerves.
> "[I understand. You are a friend but you don't want to be my ...]"
> He said a word she didn't know, but one Mayor thought she could guess. She still wanted to make certain.
"[Uhh, 'amrag' means- means, like Xuan and Buygra? In the same tent?]"
> Salki gave a single nod. "[Yes, 'amrag' is like- two people who fuck, but they also like each other and they want to share a tent.]"
> Mayor gave a half-embarrassed, half-scandalized chuckle at his bluntness, but it did confirm her thoughts, so that was good.
"[Then yes, I want to be your friend, not your lover.]"
> "[That's good. Mother will be glad to hear that. You will come back to us soon, no?]"
> That reminded Mayor that she was living with Intor only temporarily and she would eventually return to a slightly different life among the nomads. She had gotten so engrossed with the hunt, and Gol, and the chores, that it had almost slipped her mind.
> She did a quick mental calculation and shook her head.
"[It is not soon, Salki. Someday it will be spring, Intor says. There will be no more snow.]"
> Then again, Mayor realized, with how nice Intor had been lately, and her blooming friendship with Gol it wasn't too bad. Even Willow stayed away most of the time and she hardly saw him at all. The man apparently spent his nights elsewhere.
> Maybe he had picked a mate and they had moved together, like Xuan and Buygra? After all, Willow was older than Buygra, Mayor estimated. It would be about time, and if that meant he left her alone, all the better.
> Her mood improved a bit and she began to smile.
"[Sorry about kiss. I was drunk. The traders- they brought beer. Sorry.]"
> Salki shrugged and laughed at the explanation. "[It's okay. At least you didn't puke on me too!]"
> They both chuckled at that mental image, then Mayor leaned closer and brushed her muzzle against his hand. He had relaxed his death grip on his own fingers as he relaxed into the conversation and Mayor was glad to see that he wasn't as nervous around her.
> "[I have to go now. If mother sees us talking she will be mad.]"
> That statement made her ears instantly fold and Salki reached back for a moment to brush his fingers under her chin. "[Don't worry, she will forget. When you come back it will be back to normal, you'll see.]"
> With that he stood up and vanished into the crowd. Mayor stared after him until Gol placed herself right in her line of sight. "[Meyermer! Come quick! You must see this! You must try! Come!]"
> The girl was almost too excited to form coherent words and Mayor was quickly infected. She grinned, if a little weakly, and lifted up her ears to focus on her nomad friend.
"[What is it?]"
> Gol beckoned with her hand and stepped from foot to food in place, eager to run off. "[Come, you must see! It's Saule! She discovered something!]"
> Now the mare was very curious indeed and she cantered the few steps to Gol. That was all the cue the girl needed and she shot off between two groups of talking nomads. Mayor actually had to pick up her pace to stay close.
"[Wait! What happened?!]"
> Gol couldn't contain her impatience any longer and she turned on her heel and almost fell down on the mare. She threw a hug around Mayor's neck, then held herself at arm's length so they could see each other's faces. "[Saule took some honey from her mother! She put it on the bread to see what would happen. She discovered it! It's delicious!]"
> For a moment or two Mayor couldn't understand what the big deal was, until he brain caught up and she realized that the nomads had only seen bread just now. This would be the first time one of them tried eating it with something else.
> Mayor nearly hoofed herself in the muzzle. Had she forgotten to tell Intor and Darga that bread was usually eaten along with other things?
> The lapse and the nomads' incredible new discovery, combined with Gol's happy, eager smile, proved too much and the mare began laughing. A bit of relief that things with Salki were no longer awkward probably crept in too.
"[Oh yes. I know. Wait until you try bread with cheese.]"
> The nomads didn't have real cheese and that sparked an idea in Mayor's mind. She didn't really know how proper cheese was made, but the nomads' curdled milk came close and she almost vaguely remembered a report she had read from a cheese maker in Ponyville.
> If she concentrated for a while she would remember the dishes, and the machines, and the ingredients that pony had exempted on his taxes. Perhaps it would give her the missing piece.
> "[Oh! You knew about this?! Why didn't you say?]"
> Mayor snapped out of her thoughts and shrugged a little.
"[Sorry, forgot.]"
> She still wanted a piece of that honeyed bread, though, especially if it was free. She stood up and ran a few hoofsteps in the direction Gol had been going.
"[Come on, let's go try it. I will tell you other things with bread, okay?]"
> Gol shot up to her feet, clapped her hands together in excitement, and took the lead again.
> Mayor decided to catch the girl and tell her not to mention Mayor's revelation to anyone. Let the young Saule have this discovery. The child had been nice to the mare.

> ~~~~

> Mayor Mare woke up without the ever-present hunger pangs perhaps for the first time since she had come to the nomad camp. The previous night's feast had gone on longer than she would have expected and they had all eaten well.
> Many of the nomad women wanted to try their hand at baking, and all Mayor had to do was supervise and correct a mistake here and there. Mostly they did the same thing the slave children also got wrong: too much water.
> More importantly, there had been plenty of bread and, once Saule's 'discovery' came out, even honey. Mayor had had her fill of the delicious, sticky, sweet bread. It had almost been like a pastry, especially to her sugar-starved tongue.
> Someone had brought a nearly full skin of beer and despite her promises a mere few days ago, Mayor had taken a drink. Only one, though, enough to relax her and help her enjoy the strange nomad music and singing, without making her completely drunk.
> She hardly even had a hangover the next day, for Celestia's sake! More importantly, she hadn't made a fool of herself, could remember everything that had happened, and hadn't puked at all.
> The mare felt like she had that 'moderation' thing down pat.
> Even the air felt more spring-like than she could remember. Yes, it was still chilly and there was snow all around the camp, but she no longer felt as if each breath of air knifed into her exposed belly.
> Incidentally, she would need to figure out a more pony-appropriate coat before the next winter.
> Not to mention that the atmosphere in the camp had changed a lot in only a single day. Everywhere Mayor looked she saw friendly nods, even approving smiles. More than one woman actually waved at her, where before they hardly spared her a glance.
> Perhaps the biggest change had come over Intor. The tent had been empty when Mayor woke up, but when she poked her head out into the morning air she saw the woman sitting at a small outside fire with a clay pot suspended on a couple of sticks above it.
> "[Join me?]" the woman had asked and it sounded downright polite.
> Mayor didn't quite know what o make of it. The new attitude was probably because of her invention, she supposed, but she needed a few moments to think it over and to fully wake up.
"[I will piss and wash first,]" she had replied cautiously.
> It wasn't really a lie, like most mornings her bladder was in urgent need of relief and the stale beer had left a horrible taste in her mouth, one that hadn't been helped any by the overabundance of sweet honey the previous day.
> Mayor desperately wanted to wash her mouth out at least, since she didn't have a real toothbrush.
> Luckily Intor had simply inclined her head and bade the mare to hurry back. She had promised there would be something special waiting for her.
> It felt a bit like being taken into Intor's confidence, like becoming one of her inner circle. Mayor Mare didn't know if she could really be the woman's friend, but maybe it wouldn't hurt to be polite.
> How long could she hold a grudge, after all? Intor hadn't fully accepted them as individuals, as persons, back when she had sold Rainy Day. Gol had told her that her mother regretted selling her friend, although the young nomad said Intor would never admit it.
> If that was true, Mayor could at least get along with the woman. The memory still smarted, but animosity wouldn't do her any good.
> Willow was a different matter, though. Mayor half-decided that selling Rainy Day off had been the son's idea, ultimately. He'd wanted to hurt Mayor ever since she had refused to be trained the way he had expected.
> Maybe the young hunter had been used to always getting his way and he'd taken Mayor's recalcitrance personally, or something. She couldn't imagine any other reason why he'd dislike her so much. Why he'd belittle and threaten her.
> It all made a kind of sense. His mother had allowed herself to be tricked by her wily son and had sold the pegasus to some traders. Of course she couldn't admit it, not if she wanted to keep her image as a strong and determined leader, but Gol, of all people, would know that her mother hadn't entirely liked that decision.
> Yes, Mayor decided, she could be polite with the woman. It wouldn't hurt and it might make it easier to help those two children, in turn. Intor wielded serious power in the camp.
"It's a bucking mess, the whole thing," she grumbled to herself.
> Mayor was already at the stream and saw a couple of children filling water skins nearby. She picked a spot upstream from them, unwilling to drink the mud they had stirred up.
> They noticed her and jabbered excitedly to each other. One, a younger girl, even pointed her finger in Mayor's direction.
> She had never been too good with very young children, though, and these were alien creatures on top of that. Mayor smoothly pretended to ignore them while she took her drink.
> It was freezing cold, but the water was clear and it went a long way to wash the bad taste from her tongue. She swirled the first mouthful around for a bit, then spat it out.
> She leaned down to drink, only then realizing just how desperately thirsty she was. Mayor sucked down the water so fast that she inadvertently gulped a lot of air along with the liquid.
> It came from the fact that she refused to submerge more than the minimum amount of her muzzle into the chilly water, and the small waves did the rest.
> No matter, the trapped air came back up when she stopped and Mayor let out a few small burps.
> Her ear swiveled when she heard the children chuckle, but other than a very slight blush at her un-ladylike behaviour she simply ignored them.
> She drank a bit more, then straightened up and closed her eyes. The world was quiet, even with spring right around the corner. She heard the splashing of water and the quiet chatter of the two nomad children. Off in the distance she heard a shouted laugh, but it didn't last very long.
> Probably from the camp, Mayor guessed.
> Most significantly, there was no whisper of air, no rustling of leaves, no chirping of birds or crickets. She could easily imagine that she was the only person in the world.
> The water swirled around her ankles and its chill touch was almost pleasant after a while. It made her hooves feel numb, but that was okay. She was doing a lot more walking over much rougher ground than she ever had back in Ponyville, and even though her hooves had become harder, they were still often sore.
> It was a minor pain and she ignored it most of the time, but it was still nice to let the water wash some of that weary ache away.
> When it became warmer and the sun would give off more than a pale, yellow light, she would consider bathing in the cold stream. Celestia knew her coat badly needed it.
> In something like a trance and almost completely without conscious thought, Mayor idly flicked her tail away and released. The splashing of liquid was the only sound in the world, until...
> "[HEY!]" came a shout from downstream, startling Mayor Mare and making her clench painfully to stop the stream. "[What are you doing pony?! We're taking drinking water!]"
> She had remembered the children and their water skins a split second after the boy had shouted. Her rear burned with the effort of holding the stream back in and Mayor hurriedly shuffled back to the bank.
> Her tail clamped down as tightly as it would go, but it couldn't go as flat as her ears.
"[Sorry! So sorry! I forgot! I'm sorry!]"
> Her squeaked apology didn't seem to register as the children walked out of the stream. The water had come to their mid-calves, she saw. "[Stupid animal, doesn't she understand which way the water flows? We didn't go piss upstream when *she* was drinking!]"
> The boy kept grumbling, but the girl, who was a little younger, kept glancing nervously at the mare.
> "[Shut up,]" she finally admonished her brother, "[you'll make her mad and she'll kick us! Shut up!]"
> That worked and they both stared at Mayor worriedly.
"[I won't! I promise, no kick! I'm sorry. I... forgot- when I- when I pissed in the water.]"
> This explanation made the boy narrow his eyes in suspicion. "[You forgot we were there and taking water?]"
"[Yes, I promise! I close my eyes,]" Mayor hurried closer in an effort to explain herself, "[I close and I listen. Everything quiet, I think: I am alone in world. No one but me. I forgot. I had to piss and I did. I didn't think about it.]"
> The explanation was only slightly jumbled and the two children easily followed it. By the time she had finished Mayor was right near the children and could see their expressions more clearly. The boy looked doubtful, still, but the girl was looking at the mare in quiet wonder.
> She hadn't met them before, Mayor thought, though she had probably seen them around the camp. It was obvious that they weren't used to being this near her, she could see how the boy had tensed as if preparing to jump away. Even his sister had leaned back a little.
"[I'm nice! I promise. Come, come- your hand. Hold your hand out.]"
> The pair looked at one another and the boy gave a small shrug as an answer to the girl's unspoken question. Eventually she turned back and extended one arm, although her fingers were bunched up in a fist.
> Mayor approached carefully, so as not to startle the child. She brushed her nose against her knuckles.
"[See? Friendly. I won't bite. I won't kick. I'm sorry about- about the water. See?]"
> It worked and the girl let her fingers fall open. Mayor bumped it a little until the hand was resting very lightly on her muzzle. She held still and a few seconds later the girl began to gently brush her fur.
> She smiled and turned to her brother. "[She is so smooth! Here, you have to touch her! Try!]"
> The boy still looked a little doubtful, but he shifted the water skins to the other shoulder and reached out with his hand as well. Soon his fingers stroked Mayor's head too, and she felt her smile widen.
> There was still a pressure inside her, and her muscles were beginning to burn from how hard she was clenching. She pulled away until the hands slipped free and splayed her ears at the two siblings.
"[I must piss, sorry. I will go down water, okay? I will be quick and then I will carry your water back, yes? I will carry because I am sorry.]"
> Again the two silently consulted each other, but Mayor didn't wait. Like she had said, she walked a few more paces downstream and looked hard to make sure no other nomads were taking water in that direction.
> She turned until she faced the pair and finally relaxed with a luxurious sigh.
> The nomad children watched her for a few more seconds, then the girl bent down and stuck the half-filled water skin under the surface again while her brother started to juggle the tied-together water skins.
> Mayor hadn't lied, she would take their small burden back to the camp. It really had been an extremely rude thing to do, and her cheeks blushed again just thinking about it.

> ~~~~

> It wasn't until Mayor Mare came back within sight of Intor's tent that she remembered the strange invitation. More importantly, there had been that clay pot, which was unusual, even if Mayor hadn't immediately figured that out.
> Nomads cooked in leather. Salki had explained the trick to her: the material wouldn't burn as long as there was water in it, even if the water was boiling. She had never heard that before, but it obviously worked.
> Why would, therefore, Intor have a clay pot for cooking? Mayor knew that the nomads in the camp had some basic pottery. Her water jugs were one example, and the small containers of honey were another, but so far none of the people had used one for cooking.
> This piqued her curiosity and Mayor hurried back to the tent. She saw with relief that Intor was still sitting outside and whatever she was making was bubbling gently in the clay vessel before her.
"[I'm here,]" she announced, if a bit needlessly.
> The woman looked up from whatever she was preparing in the pot and for a brief moment something like annoyance passed across her face before she could smooth it away. Even after that she had a slight twist to her lips which betrayed her dislike of having been left to wait.
> "[Why did it take so long?]" Intor asked. Her voice was perfectly polite, but there wasn't any warmth in it. She was definitely miffed that Mayor had tarried, even if the woman was trying not to show it.
> Mayor acknowledged the question by splaying her ears as she came closer to try and peer at what Intor was cooking.
"[I met children. I think Kantuta's niece and another boy. Maybe brother? I helped them bring water.]"
> There was no real need to tell Intor about the faux pas at the stream, and luckily it seemed the woman wouldn't demand any extra explanation. Instead, she picked up a small leather bag, then paused as she examined the clay pot. "[Water has boiled, I will add more and we will have to wait.]"
> It was mainly a comment to herself so Mayor didn't reply. She watched the small bag curiously and tried to get a whiff of what was inside it, but the wind was blowing in the other direction so it was impossible to tell.
> Intor took her water skin and poured some into the pot until it was nearly full. The bubbling sound stopped as the water cooled below the boiling point. Strangely enough, it looked like plain water, with nothing else in it. Mayor was watching it strangely and debating with herself whether she dared to go look more closely when Intor spoke.
> "[Sit. We will talk and we will have 'tsai'.]"
> The way she pronounced that strange word tickled Mayor's memory. She tried to recall if she'd ever heard it before, but drew a blank. There was something about it, especially the hard first syllable. It reminded her almost of 'ch', as in 'chance'.
"[What is that? 'Tsai', I do not know.]"
> The woman smiled to herself. "[Ah, so we find a thing us nomads have which the mighty pony race does not. It is a drink. Very hard to get. Very expensive. I only have a little and we will share it.]"
"[A... drink?]"
> There was something about the word, Mayor could almost taste it.
"[Tsai,]" she repeated to herself, quietly.
> "[We will have more when the traders come from the East in spring - when the mountain passes open. They will only trade it for gold, but we have some of that.]" At those words Intor glanced at Hisein's camp and Mayor instantly understood.
> They had robbed the children's parents of their gold. That was what Intor was referring to.
> The woman patted the animal skin on which she was sitting. "[Come, sit with me. The magic of 'tsai' is in the preparation, perhaps even more so than in the drinking. The smell of it, the anticipation of the taste, the company. It must all be experienced.]"
> She lifted up the bag and untied it. Then she held it for Mayor to smell.
> It was something she immediately recognized, even though she had never smelled this type of blend before.
"Tea! That's tea!" she began, but spotted Intor's uncomprehending look. "[Sorry. 'Tsai', I know this. We call it 'tea'.]"
> The word itself clicked. She had listened to it as a nomad word, but in fact it was the same in her own language. It was another strange coincidence, but Mayor decided not to dwell on it at the moment. She would think about it later.
"[We also call it 'chai', I did not hear it until now. It is the same word.]"
> If Intor was displeased that her previous boast of nomad superiority at something was now disproved, she didn't show it. She maintained her smile and patted the animal skin again. "[Good. Then you know the ritual. Sit and enjoy it with me.]"
> Mayor hadn't seen any nomad drink anything even close to tea before, nor had she heard about it, so it was obviously a great rarity. If it was traded for gold then it was valuable indeed, and she grew suspicious.
"[Why are you sharing it with me?]"
> The next word, while still technically polite, was no longer a suggestion or a request. There was a steel edge to Intor's clipped "[Sit!]"
> Mayor's rump hit the rug almost automatically, but the very next instant Intor was back to smiling. "[We will share this because of your discovery yesterday. You have given us a gift, it is only proper I return the favor. We will talk like friends, yes?]"
> Even though Mayor Mare still didn't fully trust the woman, she saw the value of at least an apparently cordial relationship. It was something she had often had to do in her job, so it wouldn't be the first time.
> She returned the woman's smile and nodded.
"[Yes, let us talk like friends.]"
> Before saying anything further, Intor looked at the pot where the water was almost boiling again. "[Perfect.]" she said, mostly to herself, and grabbed the hem of her animal fur coat. She used it to grip the clay pot and pull it toward herself.
> It was suspended on strings from three wooden sticks, but they simply folded up when Intor took the pot out of the fire. She ignored the string and the supports and reached instead for her bag of tea.
> She took out a carefully measured pinch between her fingers and brought it up to her face to inhale the scent. Then she held it out for Mayor to do the same.
> The smell was both exotic and familiar and Mayor drew a deep breath through her nose. It reminded her of quiet afternoons in her office as she worked on this bit of paperwork or that. It also smelled a little of the Ponyville Spa and the blend reminded her of the one Aloe and Lotus served to their customers.
> It took her back to a better time and her eyes grew misty as the heavy memories hit. She hadn't seen either of them in months, and she likely never would again. Her gaze strayed down to her hooves, which were muddy and frayed. How long since she had had a hooficure, or a massage, or a sauna? She never would again.
> It was almost painful to wrench her mind away from listing all the things she had lost, and when Mayor did she saw that Intor had a small, nostalgic smile on her lips.
> "[It brings memories, does it not? I think I believe you when you say ponies have this. You could not have faked that.]"
> All Mayor trusted herself to do was nod, knowing very well that her voice would fail her. She looked into the distance and blinked away the tears which threatened to overwhelm her.
> "[That is good. Chai is a powerful spell. It never fails to stir a heart. Friends drink it to prove their friendship, and leaders drink it together before they make truce.]"
> Having said that, Intor continued with her little ritual. She sprinkled the leaves into her clay pot of water. It had been on the verge of boiling, so it was the perfect temperature for tea.
> She stirred the pot with her finger in a few quick motions, then went to tie her little bag of tea once more. Only after it was done did Mayor realize that the woman had just put her digit right into scalding hot water. She didn't seem to be in pain, and her finger didn't look hurt.
> It was probably another trick, like the one with the leather pots, Mayor decided, but she didn't ask about it. She wasn't too worried about Intor getting lightly scalded. It wouldn't be life-threatening and it would only cause her mild discomfort for a few days, anyway.
> Instead, as the aroma from the steeping tea filled the air, she focused on the woman in front of her.
"[What did you want to talk?]"
> "[Soon you will go back to Darga,]" Intor stated. She paused for a while, as if trying to gauge Mayor's reaction, but when there wasn't one, she continued. "[We needn't fight. I know what it looks like to you. I know you think I am only after power, but that is not true.]"
> Mayor didn't comment and she very carefully kept her face and ears completely still so as not to betray what she was really thinking. She didn't want to show the woman just how accurate her guess was.
> Intor returned her gaze to the pot of tea she was preparing and laid her hands gently on the rim of the clay vessel, almost caressing it. "[The truth is that I only want what is best for the people. The Chieftain - Darga's husband, had been a strong leader. I do not know how she has kept the position for herself, although I have suspicions, but I do know that is not right. That is why Ruslans make war on us.]"
> Mayor's ears pricked up. It wasn't something any of the nomads had told her and it sounded like very important information about the larger political picture of the region. She didn't know if she would ever be able to use this information, but she would file it away despite that.
> It almost felt like her cutie mark was tingling.
> "[Salki would have been a good choice, had he been older. Of course, he would be tried in combat to prove his strength, but he was too young when it happened. No other men stepped up.]"
> Intor looked around, as if checking for eavesdroppers, then leaned closer to Mayor and lowered her voice: "[Me, I believe that was not for lack of ambition. The strongest candidates died mysteriously on hunting trips. I have my suspicions, but no proof. Just remember: Darga is ruthless, just as I am.]"
> There was a moment of silence to let that sink in, then the woman straightened back up and continued as if she hadn't said anything strange: "[The difference between us is that she wants power for its own sake, where I only wish to restore the proper order of things. Willow will be chieftain, for as long as he can keep the position. Darga and Salki will be allowed to live in the camp. We will make a treaty with Ruslans and grow strong again. That is what I want.]"
> It did sound quite plausible, though Mayor didn't entirely believe it. It was true that Intor had shown that she cared for the camp's well-being, but the mare couldn't help thinking to herself that Willow would have an experienced and knowledgeable advisor at his shoulder if he ever did become chieftain.
"[I.. see,]" was all she could say for the moment.
> Intor shrugged a little to herself, then lifted the pot of tea and swirled it a little. "[You do not need to believe me, but this is how things are.]"
"[What is you want me to do?]"
> That made the woman chuckle. "[Oh, nothing difficult, Meyermer. You have earned your keep and you will continue to do so. Maybe, in time, you will earn your place in the camp as a free... pony, not a slave. It will surely happen if you remember any more wonders like the last one.]"
> As Darga spoke she untied the supporting sticks from the clay pot and tossed them aside. It seemed automatic, as if she wasn't really paying any attention to what her hands were doing, and she even kept her gaze firmly on Mayor.
> Despite her best effort, something about Mayor's distrust must have shown up on her face because Intor grinned again and held up a palm. "[I do not expect you to give these secrets to me, don't worry. All I ask is that you do not give them to Darga either. Give them to everyone. They should be the camp's wonders, not mine, nor Darga's.]"
> That sounded entirely too reasonable and Mayor immediately began trying to work out Intor's angle. Her words had a grain of truth in them, that much she was certain of, but there had to be more to it.
> No doubt she would figure it out eventually, but until then she could make a reasonable promise.
"[I will- I mean, if I remember I will tell everyone, not only Darga and not only you.]"
> This time Intor's smile was genuine, which made Mayor doubt her own thoughts.
> "[Good, good,]" she said and lifted the pot up to her face, still holding it with her hands wrapped in the hem of her cloak. She inhaled the aroma. "[It is nearly ready.]"
> She took a strange little wooden spoon from the bag with the tea. Mayor saw that it had slits carved through the head.
"A tea strainer!" she said to herself as she realized the device's function.
> Indeed Intor used the spoon to quickly gather and pick out the tea leaves from the water. She flung them into the fire, where they briefly hissed and filled the air with their aroma.
> Soon she was done and the woman picked up her pot once more. She lifted it carefully and took a very ginger, slurping sip of the hot water. Then she held it out to Mayor.
> They did not use cups, but the mare didn't much mind. She took the clay pot between her forehooves, so worried that she might crush it that it nearly slipped from her grasp. Luckily the container was sturdy and she was easily able to lift it up.
> It was hot on her frogs, but after the chill of winter that felt nice.
> Mayor took a sip of the liquid and closed her eyes as a fresh wave of memory hit home. It was quite bitter, and it didn't taste like any of Equestria's blends, but it was still close enough to resurface all the same thoughts as before.
> She closed her eyes and held the mouthful of hot tea on her tongue until she was sure she had her emotions under control. Only then did she swallow and offer the pot back to Intor.
> "[Good, good. I will offer you a deal, Meyermer,]" the nomad said.
"[What deal?]"
> There was a pause as Intor took a sip and held the tea out again for Mayor, then she replied: "[I will send you back to Darga in one week, if you promise to come sometimes and speak with me. I will consider your debt for kicking Willow repaid in full.]"
> It wasn't something Mayor had been expecting, nor could she immediately see why Intor would make such an offer. She didn't know how to respond, so she hid her confusion by taking another long sip of the tea.
"[Why?]"
> "[Since you have learned our language and since you have lived in my tent I have taken a measure of you, Meyermer. You are smart, and you know how to lie when you need to. You think about what people say and what they do. Not always-]" Intor held up a finger at that and grinned. "[Not always, but you have some skill. We may have more in common than you think.]"
> Mayor said nothing, but her ears lowered. She took another sip of the tea and gave the pot back to Intor, who continued as if there had been no interruption: "[What do you say? A friendly chat every now and then. We will have tea, sometimes, and we will discuss how best to serve the people.]"
> It sounded like a good proposal, but it had happened too fast and Mayor didn't quite understand Intor's reasons, which made her worry. She had to buy some time to think it over in peace, so she decided to simply tell the woman the truth.
"[I need to think it. I will answer tomorrow, yes?]"
> "[That is good. Now, let us finish this chai and talk of unimportant things.]"
> She took a hurried mouthful of tea and passed the drink back to Mayor. A little bit escaped down her chin and Intor wiped it away with the back of her hand before asking: "[Tell me: how long have you known of Xuan's condition? How long have you known that Buygra was the father?]"
> The change in direction was so sudden and unexpected that Mayor nearly fumbled and dropped the pot of tea. She blinked rapidly for a few seconds as she fought to put together a coherent response.
"[I- I don't... Not very long. Xuan told me, she said 'do not tell my parents'. Maybe two months?]"
> Intor nodded to herself. She didn't make a move to take the offered pot back. "[Interesting. I did not suspect those two, but now that I think back, the signs were there. Tell me: in your culture, do men ask the women's parents' permission before they court her?]"
> It was a strange feeling to gossip with Intor, but the question sounded genuine, and Mayor had promised herself that she would be friendly, so there was no harm in answering it. She took another sip and scrunched up her muzzle both at the bitter taste and in deep thought.
"[I think it is different for where ponies are from. Some places yes, some places no. In some places- uh, women ask men's parents' permission.]"
> "[Really?!]" Intor exclaimed. This was completely new to her and she began to smile. "[Tell me of this strange custom...]"

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