Snowshoe

Muggo' Ale was surprised by the band. Quite a few would have just packed it up after a few apologies. But despite not playing their standard fare Caravan was able to mostly salvage the night, and still keep the audience entertained. He'd have to remember to try and bring them back to the bar again one day. With the show over and the crowd slowly dispersing, it was easier to talk. By the time Caramel Apple asked her question, the room was half empty, with most of the ponies staying behind to either chat at one of the tables, or play one of the games. "Unexpected, but they managed to pull it off." he agreed. As for what he was thinking, he shrugged a bit. "I'm thinkin' that I happen to be out o' ideas." he admitted with a sheepish smile. "An' that it's gettin' a little on the later side. So I'm thinkin', how about I walk ya home, unless ya got other plans?" he offered with a smile. He truly was out of ideas, but figured dinner, a few drinks, a tough game of darts, and a pair of short concerts was enough for a first date. It wasn't entirely that he lacked in creativity, and more that at that hour of the night, there was little else to do. Besides, it was probably a bit of a walk to her farm from here, giving them time to talk, or get inspired to do something else along the way.

Muggo' winced a bit at what Blueblood said. "Sorry b- Yer Grace, force o' habit." he apologized, and quite sincerely. "Me brain's hardwired to call any stallion b'y. Think of it as a verbal tic, not tryin' t'insult ya." he explained. And it was true: from his best friends like Dunder to complete unknowns on the street, Muggo' just instinctively referred to stallions, and even some of his close friends that happened to be mares, as "b'y." With Blueblood answering his question, Muggo' listened politely. So they'd tried, but given up. As somepony to who family was everything, it truly tugged at Muggo's heartstrings to hear the story. He nodded respectfully, having seen him obviously fighting to keep some emotions in. "Take yer time, Yer Grace." he said gently. After a bit he looked over at Dunder and chuckled. "Not me fault, b'y. Happens without thinkin'." he said with a chuckle, taking a sip of his drink. He looked idly around the room until he saw Fire Walker coming back to the table. "How's he doin'?" he asked once she was sitting down at the table again.

Timbre Swing winced as Serendipity verbally tore into those that were complaining, though it did make him chuckle a little. He tilted his hat back with a small flash of magic while he waited for her to finish. Before they could get to talking again however, the entire ship turned hard to the side, spinning and, from the annoying feeling in his stomach, they were losing altitude as well. First he was thrown against the side of his seat, with Serendipity crashing into him, and then the ship bucked to the other side as it descended violently, throwing him against her. "Excusez moi." he apologized sheepishly, grinning a bit as he tried to get up. That only resulted in him smacking into the wall and falling to the floor. He sincerely hoped this was just a very rough patch of turbulence, and that, as the sister of the one pony that had complained theorized, they weren't crashing. Because crashing would not be very fun at all. The force of gravity kept him pinned against the back of the seats in front of them, which was a little painful but at least he was, for the moment, unhurt. "Are you 'urt?" he asked his seatmate, the rather out-spoken pegasus from Las Pegasus.

"Shoulda given it a bit of time then. Still, if that was your run with fatigue I can only imagine how it'd be without being tired." Wind Rider said. After all, she'd come in just under a second behind him, and he'd been running flat out. The pegasus sat down as well, chuckling. "Just luck of the draw I guess." he said. This being his first and only event so far, he didn't know how his performance was going to be like in others. "Me? I'm from Hoofington. I don't usually leave the area...my job, I'm the forest ranger there, usually means I have to stick around a lot. But I got someone to take over for me for a few days so I could come up here to compete, and enjoy a bit of time off." he explained. "What about you? I've never heard of a river that bad as to not want to go swimming in it." The other pony to have run the course with them trotted over and sat down. Wind laughed a bit and shook his head. "You hit a barrel too, didn't you? Without that you'd have come in just a hair faster than me." he pointed out. "But yeah, it wasn't that bad of an event." he agreed.

So he would have won, despite the stumbles. Wind Rider wasn't exactly beaten up about it. Instead he smiled, nodding. "Well, I did my best, that's all I can do." he said. He looked over as the mare who'd been upset with her run trotted over and clocked in a time that wasn't half bad, had she not stumbled herself and knocked over a barrel, resulting in a disqualification. She made a comment about her run, and then spoke to him. Wind Rider shrugged. "Not half bad. In hindsight I shouldn't have cut as close as I did...it shaved a few seconds off, but I lost it all stumbling twice and hitting a barrel." he said. He grinned a little at her trailing off, not out of any mean spirit, but more to try and lift hers. "Aw, you didn't do that bad. Not everypony can run a course like this." he said. It was true: though it looked easy, the rapid changes in direction took a toll on the muscles, and you had to make sure you had just the right line through your turns, or you'd lose time getting back on course, or worse, crash into a barrel. Besides, while for some it was all about winning, others it was the spirit of competition, and that was what Wind was there for: the spirit of the games. "Not the end of the world. You did your best, that's all anypony can ask of. There's other events that I'm sure you'll do better at." he said with a smile.

[Last post of the three.] Wind Rider managed, somehow, to stand up and look back at the course. Maybe he'd actually train for an event next year, instead of signing up on a whim like this. Still, natural skill had done quite well, as did imagining the course as something familiar to him...though he told himself that, had that been an actual rescue, he would have been delayed in getting there. Though granted, he would be able to use his wings. Speaking of his wings, adrenaline, mixed with the emotions of relief and accomplishment, plus the fact they were pinned against their will to his side, caused the pegasus' wings to flare out as he shook out his hooves to try and get some feeling back into them. He turned to the crowd that was watching, and as he just noticed, cheering. He grinned happily and gave a little bow, happy that his performance had entertained the crowd enough for them to cheer. As he turned around to make his way back to the organizer, he noticed the pony in the land next to him. He couldn't recall if she was ahead or behind him during the face, having been focused solely on his lane, his barrels, and the end. But when he looked back, he noticed one of the barrels in the dirt. He winced a bit, knowing that was a disqualification. She appeared to be crying, which tugged at him a bit. The poor mare had probably run her hooves off just like everypony, but one mistake had cost her the entire run. And it had been later on, which hurt even more. Never good with words, he decided to give her a wide berth for now, and would talk to her later, if he did at all. With that, Wind Rider trotted back to Hind at the sign-up booth, wearing a smile as he approached. "Now that was fun." he said, his wings now back at his side. "How'd I do? You know, despite the bump and all that."

Wind Rider looked over at Hind, the one organizing the event, and nodded. "Lane three, you got it." he spoke. His voice was quiet, but not in a way that would imply Wind was nervous, or meek. Instead, it rang of quiet confidence, the voice of one who took in situations instead of blabbering about. The brown pegasus stepped up to his lane and took in the course ahead of him while he waited for the whistle. He no longer was imagining it as a start line, a finish line, and a series of barrels between. Instead, it was now the forest, the barrels being a copse of trees between him and somepony that needed help at the other end. This sense of familiarity helped calm him...Wind Rider hadn't noticed until then how nervous he was. This was just for fun, but it was still nerve wracking to be going up against other ponies, and having others watching the performance, ready to pass judgment once it was over. Though the pegasus had already stretched beforehand, he took a moment to get ready, stamping at the dirt a bit with his hooves, and even giving his wings a little flutter. That action was mostly unconscious: once they were done fluttering they were pinned tightly to the pegasus' side. The organizer called out, and blew the whistle. As soon as Wind's mind registered the shrill sound, he was off, hooves pounding into the dirt. His pace wasn't exceedingly fast to start, as he paced himself. The first barrel was ahead, and he had to weave around it to the left. He'd decided to take this as close as possible, knowing that he couldn't keep up with the speed of most ponies. The tighter his turns, the more time he shaved off...but of course, the closer Wind came to hitting a barrel. The first passed by without incident, right past his right side as the ranger thundered on, his right hooves digging into the dirt to carry him out around the first barrel and on the approach to the second. As with the first, the second barrel came and went without incident, and Wind Rider was making, in his mind, decent time. But, then came something unexpected. The barrels were at uneven distances apart. The third barrel came on much faster than he was expecting, and he had to swing wide to avoid it. The action cost him precious seconds as he ran past with distance to spare, but had to turn sharply to get back on course. His body was screaming at him to flare out his left wing, which would have easily tightened the turn. He ignored it though, knowing it would result in a disqualification. Mercifully, there was some distance between barrels 3 and 4, which gave him enough time to straighten back out on the course. And speaking of the fourth barrel, the pegasus dug his right hooves in, taking him just barely out of the way before he shifted his weight to the other side, taking him around the barrel rather deftly. Four down, six more to go. Barrel number five was just as average as the one before it, when it came to what was needed, and thus the same technique was used: just enough weight on one side to get him out of the way, then throw his weight to the other side to get him around. Wind Rider was noticing he was getting tired though...only halfway through, and his legs were a little achy. Each time he dug his hooves in and shifted his weight, this discomfort made itself known even more. It proved to be a liability at barrel six, where he swung out well enough, but as he shifted his weight back over to get around the barrel, his left foreleg gave out a bit, causing him to stumble. In an effort to stop himself from falling over, or hitting the barrel, Wind Rider had to kick off with his left hindleg and shift his weight to the right, stumbling a bit as he attempted to get upright again. The seventh barrel was still coming quickly, but unfortunately, the pegasus hadn't recovered. His stumble had meant that when he got back on track, he was off by a ways. Without seeing it until the last minute, he had cut too close to barrel seven, and it bumped off his side. Had he not been panting to catch enough air, he would have said something about his mis-step. Instead he soldiered on, knowing that the bump would cost him a time penalty. Three more barrels to go. He used the space between barrels seven and eight to realign himself, and came up to the eight barrel. This time, he spotted the same trick used with the third barrel, with barrels eight, nine, and ten placed very tight. It would have to be a tough slalom to get through. Out and around Wind went, his mind focused solely on the finish line now. If he thought of anything else, well, he knew he'd stumble again. His hooves felt like lead as they thundered through the dirt, taking him around the eight, then ninth barrel. The tiredness caught up to him again, right before the end in a cruel twist of fate. As he came around the ninth and prepped himself to turn for the tenth, his right hindleg suddenly froze up, causing him to stumble, this time away from the barrel, instead of toward it. Still, the time it took for him to get back on course cost him, and despite his hard charge to the finish, Wind Rider figured he'd lost too much time with the mis-steps and the bumping of the barrel. Still, it was possible that his mostly clean run made up for it...after all, he'd only swung too far out twice. Still, the race had been fun. The adrenaline pumping through him was amazing, and though he took a moment to rest after the course, slumped on his hindquarters and breathing heavily, the pegasus felt great, his face stuck in a grin. Who cares if he didn't win? He'd come to compete, and compete he did, having given it his very best..

Wind Rider had come to Ponyville with the intention of watching the games. He would never have expected to be gearing up to participate. The one event that had caught his eye was this one: the barrel weave. He'd chosen it over the obstacle course, because this one was all about what he was best at: agility. There'd be no way he'd have the endurance to go through the multiple different tasks of the obstacle course, and he wasn't quite set out for the rest of the events thus far. The pegasus definitely felt up to it...he was definitely in shape, with his job as a forest ranger for the Hoofington area, and he'd done his fair share of weaving through trees. How hard could it be, honestly? The brown-coated pegasus walked up to the sign up booth, leaving his name and taking a good look at the rules. Simple enough. The no wings part would be difficult though...he was used to using his wings to help tighten his turns. He felt confident he could keep them pinned to his side for the duration of the run. With that done, there was a pony already set to run the course, so Wind Rider took his place off to the side with the rest of the contestants, watching to see how the first pony made it through the course. All in all though, it seemed fairly straightforward: run, and weave through the barrels, of which there were only a few. Still, he knew from experience it was harder that one would think to make tight turns such as this. The pegasus ran a hoof through his seafoam green mane for a moment, just to scratch the top of his head idly as he watched the first pony get ready. Douglas something or other, given what the coordinator called the stallion before he blew the whistle to mark the beginning of the pony's run.

Muggo' Ale felt a shooting pain up his leg for the first few steps, but it quickly faded, telling him whatever injury he had wasn't permanent. He was pleased to hear a howl of confusion and pain from down the tunnel...obviously his little trap had worked. He stopped at the call and let out a snort to help clear his lungs a bit. Dusty spoke up, saying he didn't think he could get them out. Letting Midnight speak her piece, the Earth pony thumped his shoulder lightly. "B'y, we're not askin' ya to find us a way out. We're tellin' ya to find us a way out." he said. He said it not in a mean way, but in a way that implied that they all knew Dusty could get them out, he just had to lead them. "Ya got this, b'y. Take a few deep breaths an' let's get back. We haven't changed course yet, the dogs'll figure this out simple as pie."

"Ah, so there will be another date." Muggo' Ale joked. He knew exactly what she'd meant by 'later date', he was just teasing her. The green-coated earth pony looked back at the stage as the band got ready to play their next song. Before they could even get the song properly started up, a loud crackle burst over the speakers as they both died. Muggo' winced a bit, more from the sudden, harsh sound of the crackle than anything else. Immediately, two of the band's stage-hooves were on stage, trying to fix the problem. As soon as they opened the back of the one to examine the magi-tech workings inside, however, there was a loud pop, and a small flame from the back, causing a few people nearest to the speaker to gasp in fright. The flame was quickly put out and the broken speakers hauled off stage. The band seemed undeterred, however, in the face of their disappointed-looking fans. With their finale, which had been comprised of most of their louder, more techno-based songs, unable to be played properly "unplugged," they were quick to respond, able to change the song into something resembling a swingy power-ballad, keeping the same style of the song but now keeping to only their physical instruments and the singer's voice. It wasn't nearly the same but close enough to sate the masses, though instead of trying to stretch it further, their next song was changed to one of their slower, jazzier numbers. Rather than embarrass himself further, Muggo' kept the dancing during the first song to a more basic kind of thing, just moving and swaying a little to the music. Once the slower song came around, however, he offered a hoof to Caramel Apple. "Now this I can do." he assured her.

"Yer askin' the wrong pony." Muggo' said simply when she talked about the metals. He grinned a little and nodded. "Aye, go for it. I'll be 'round." he said, surprised when she bolted. There definitely was something on her mind. He turned to look at Parhelion, nodding. "Aye, she's a friend. Her an' another friend o' mine have gone on a few adventures together." he explained, motioning for the pony to follow him as he made his way back to his tent, climbing behind the folding tables and taking his spot inside. "So, what about ya? Here to participate in some games? I heard ya mentionin' some cloud divin'?"

"Aye, definitely calmer. Not seein' any manticores this time 'round, but if they show up, we'll show 'em what's what, aye?" he said with a grin, happy to see somepony he recognized, beyond Fire Walker of course. Speaking of Fire, he got the distinct impression from her that she wasn't telling the whole truth. He shrugged. "Nah, I got it covered. But if ya want to come along an' keep me company, that'd be appreciated." the earth pony said. He was one booth among many, and he figured while he may get busy, it was nothing the veteran bartender couldn't handle. He smiled and thanked Parhelion, saying much the same thing, before looking back at Fire. "Ya look like ya could use a drink. Tent's just over back a bit, if ya want." he offered, mostly to try and see what had her looking so glum.

Timbre Swing smiled, happy that she didn't seem to be all that upset. He decided he'd leave the translation of what he'd said, well, unsaid. No need to get her angry or something. With his hoof, the musician tilted his fedora back a bit, grinning. "Zee pleasure's all mine." he said pleasantly, chuckling a bit when she mentioned she'd only brought some cards. "Not wanting to play Solitaire?" he asked with a laugh. The airship shuddered around him, the effect of turbulence. For a moment the unicorn looked rather frightened, having never flown before...well he might have once, but that time was a lot smoother. It just scared him, as he was used to being on the ground. Timbre composed himself in seconds, grinning sheepishly. He was unable to hold in a laugh at her snapping at the soldier who had spoken up. He couldn't help it, the insult was kinda funny. However, another voice joined in in agreement to the soldier with the accent. So, spotting an empty chair next to Serendipity, Timbre climbed out of his seat, managed to get around the sleeping stallion in the one next to him, and sat down next to the mare with a smile. " 'ere. Now we can speak wit's'out annoying anypony else." he said simply.

You're doing the remixes wrong. Best Gourmet Race remix is "Snoop's Dreamland" on YouTube. Can't post due to HEAVILY NSFW language. But it's there.

As it would turn out, Fire Walker had it dead on target. While he wasn't participating in any of the games, being a bit on the older side for that, Muggo' Ale had definitely come to enjoy the spectacle, and earn a few bits while he was at it. A tent, with the front open to some folding tables to serve as a counter, was set up around the training ring, providing drinks of all varieties, for a rather fair price, and all of them made back at the bar in Fillydelphia. There were barrels of fruit juices, and casks of his best ale, all ready to be sold. The tent was easily recognizable to anypony who'd ever visited his little corner of Fillydelphia: emblazoned on the side was the logo of his bar, and the words "The Prancing Pony" in bright gold below it. The owner of the tent, said Muggo' Ale, was off walking about, seeing what could be seen, when a familiar flash of red caught his eye. He trotted over and sure enough, there was an old friend of his. Muggo' whistled to get Fire's attention as he trotted over, looking much the same as always, his bakersboy hat set on his head as usual. "Fire! How's ya gettin' on?" he asked pleasantly, thumping her gently on the arm with a hoof, before noticing the pony she was talking to. A grey-coated pegasus that he took a moment to remember. But, without fail, Muggo' tended to remember most ponies he'd met. "Well! Celestia t'underin', ain't this a small world we be standin' on! We worked together, few months a'back. Winter Wrap-up, if me mind is workin' properly. Parhelion, yeah, b'y?" he asked. It was a rather unique name, not one he'd heard before, and so he trusted that his mind wasn't confusing this pony with somepony else.

Timbre Swing was just getting immersed in his book when a voice from the seat behind him cried out in annoyance. "Hey, on est tous ennuyer, arret donc de te plaindre." he called back without looking over his seat. It was then he realized that he had been so immersed in reading a book in Fancy that he'd automatically spoken in Fancy instead of Equestrian. Few people he met understood it. The musician also realized he'd been a bit snippy, and to a mare, by the sound of her voice. For him, that just wouldn't do. He closed his book, set it on the ground, and turned around to look over his seat at Serendipity. "J'm'excuse. Sorry. Didn't mean to uh...snap at you. Mon nom est Timbre Swing." the unicorn said with a grin. The mare was quite pretty, and of course, as was standard for the Fancy musician, that meant he was quite interested...this was for all mares, really. He couldn't help it! Well, he could, but still, Timbre liked to flirt a bit. " 'opefully we arrive soon. I s'ink we're all a little...'ow's zat term go...stir crazy?" he ventured. His handle on the Equestrian language was rather limited when it came to speaking, though he could be quite eloquent in his native tongue. This eloquence was often wasted on absolutely terrible pickup lines, though most people focused on the language and not what was being said. "Did you not bring a, uh...magasin, or a book to keep you busy?" he asked the lavender coloured pegasus. [basically he just told her to shut up, and to stop complaining xD He didn't mean it of course.]

Dapper Dan thanked the mare he'd been dancing with, and she headed off to see her friends again. He turned to look at the stage and clapped his hooves along with some other ponies in appreciation. The Hay family was quite the talented group. He smiled as Haymaker walked over, and nodded at her suggestion. "Sure. A walk sounds nice." he said. Contrary to the blazing hot days, Appleloosa usually became pleasantly cool in the evening, which made for some nice walks. He smiled again and started walking toward the main street, away from the covered hoedown area. "You guys were great on stage." he commented, looking over at Haymaker. "I haven't got a shred of talent for musical instruments, I can just sing." he added, chuckling a little. Even his singing, which was good, really only came into its own when he had three others to accompany him and create that specific barbershop seventh sound. Because he was walking and it was a little harder to do, he used a small blip of magic to adjust the glasses on his nose. He was happy he'd met Haymaker. No matter what happened, he figured they be rather good friends...or at least, he'd shown her not everypony judges another based on their cutie mark alone. On a whim he glanced back at the stage, seeing the Sheriff and Haymaker's younger sister walking, with the filly looking rather dejected. "Hope she doesn't get into too much trouble..." he said. "I mean yeah, they were a little disruptive, but no real harm done, in the end." he added, looking back at Haymaker. "Aaanyways..." he said after a moment. He'd be the first to admit he'd never really talked to other mares a whole heck of a lot. He wasn't quite sure what to talk about.

Two seats behind Sparks, Timbre Swing turned the page on the book that was levitating in the soft light blue glow of his magic. He was bored out of his mind, and this book was one of the only things he'd brought with him to do while he was on the flight. His seat-mate had fallen asleep, not that he'd had much chance to talk to them, and the view out his window was, frankly, rather boring. The muted green unicorn was reading an adventure novel, written in his native tongue of Fancy...try as he might, he could read Equestrian but barely, and still preferred his native language. He glanced out the window, sighing a little bit. Not one of content, or contempt, but just a sigh. He had never been to Stalliongrad before. Timbre Swing had been to some of the larger towns...his hometown of Canterlot, as well as Ponyville and Fillydelphia, but never to Stalliongrad. He doubted there was much of a market for his kind of music up there, but it was worth a try. Maybe bringing something new would bring bigger tips at the bars up there, which would be a blessing. The bits were a bit hard to come by...he'd just barely scraped enough together for the ticket on this airship. He was bringing nothing but his scat-singing, as his instrument, a large contrebasse, was deemed too heavy by the airline. Something about needing to keep the weight down to allow for the ship to move properly. So, he'd left it at home, and was now only carrying a small, single saddle bag with a book and a few other odds and ends he'd need inside. Timbre was also expecting the cold, so in the seat around him was a thick, dark cloak, and on his head, his usual fedora was perched, instead of something sensible...like a tuque.

Muggo' Ale would be the first to admit he was surprised by the unicorn's admissions to his abilities. No longer a waste of space, Blueblood had gone from tag-along to asset in just a few words. From navigation to being a sort-of medic. He couldn't imagine why the prince would consider any of these talents and spells embarrassing or a waste, but then again, there was a lot he didn't expect from Canterlot culture. Everything just seemed totally backwards to him. He knew unicorns who would be proud of the abilities Blueblood had just described. "Aye sir. Me lips be sealed." he assured Blueblood. If, for some reason, he didn't want it getting out, well, Muggo' wasn't going to spread it around. The food was served, and Muggo' looked down at the place setting. The food was fine, delicious looking in fact, but the place setting...it was designed for Canterlot, which he was starting to see was a unicorn-dominant city. Still, he'd do his best to be polite, so with a delicate grasp of his fetlock he managed to hold one of the forks and get to work on eating. After a few bites, he looked up at Blueblood. "Somethin's been on me mind, b'y. Ya might have answered this before an' I might have just been distracted or not heard ya, but why us? Why now?" he asked. "I mean, this is yer father we're talkin' about? An' by me guess, missin' for a bit o' time. I get that, as one o' the upper crust, ya can't go stompin' around Uyanazi lookin' for him, but why only send an expedition now? Unless ya sent one before, an' it was the journal that was the key." he said, the last bit more to himself than as part of a question.

This sounds fun. I saw "Crash" and thought I could use my search and rescue OC, but he's too far out of range for this. However, I have others I could use :3

Muggo' Ale simply laughed at Caramel's words. He had just been kidding around, for the most part. He smiled back at her and looked up at the stage as the crowd roared. He politely stomped his hooves with the rest of the crowd in applause for the energetic swing band, unable to help but let out a little snort of laughter at the poor stallion getting hauled away. Poor guy was probably rather inebriated, and probably didn't get much in the way of mares. Any mirth quickly died down when he noticed the guy seemed to be taking a beating from the other stallions. "Pardon me for a moment. Still me bar, even if I'm off for the night." he apologized to Caramel, disappearing into the crowd to tell off the stallions, threatening to kick them out should they disrupt anything else. He helped the overweight stallion back to his hooves, then trotted back over to Caramel Apple. "Sorry 'bout that. Nopony else seemed to be interested in helpin'." he said when he'd returned. He would have let it go if the stallions had just dragged the other one away, but it had escalated a bit. "Where were we? Somethin' about ya coachin' me a little?" he asked with a grin. Of course, it hadn't been what they were talking about, but his date seemed to put quite a bit of stock into dancing ability, and hadn't seemed very impressed with his initial performance. He didn't want to make a fool of himself, so while he was improving on his own, getting some help would probably go a long way, too.

Kaskazini went to look over the railing for a moment, then heard a thunking that took him by surprise. The zebra looked over to see a pony that was absolutely the most intimidating creature he'd ever seen. He mumbled a few words in his native tongue, marvelling at the metal leg the pony had. Suddenly, everything felt more secure, like this one huge Earth pony was all the security they would ever need. The wording of his training regimen really got to him a little. Risk their lives by showing up or lose them by not. Was there an option involving keeping his life? Like guaranteed? Oh well. Kas grinned a little. "Maybe because ya be towerin' over us like de mountains. But good ta havin' ya on wit us. I'm Kaskazini, call me Kas, it be easier for de both of us." he added. The pony's thick accent would probably butcher the pronunciation, and heck, most ponies he knew couldn't pronounce his name even if they didn't have an accent. Kas was so much simpler, just a hissing sound after a hard "K", something anypony, who spoke any language, could make. "But I got ta ask ya, what kinda trainin' we be doin'?" he asked. He wasn't much of a fighter, and didn't really think he had any ability to fight beyond a simple brawl with his hooves. He had a feeling though that what he learned from this massive pony would go a long way.