The brakes squeaked softly as Kipper came to a stop in the service siding, Crown Sheet's magic flaring already to undo the filler cap on the right-side water tank. The evening sun painted the mountains ahead of us a brilliant gold, a soft sigh escaping me as I leaned back in the seat, just enjoying the view for a moment... and blocking some of the sun out with one of my hooves. Egh, much as I love Kipper's windows, the left-side engineer's position is the least bit annoying during sunset. Not annoying enough to detract from the view, though...

The clatter of the water tower's spout swinging over echoed outside as I hopped down from my seat, looking back to the tender. Hrm... might as well stock up while we're here, probably would have enough to make it to Biscuit but better safe than sorry. The tugging of a chain and creak of a valve being opened, followed by the rushing of water into Kipper's tanks filled the air ahead, as Crown Sheet ducked back into the cab as well. "I'm gonna go see if the road crew can spare some firewood for us, and pick up that meal for Stopwatch. You want anything while I'm in town, before we head in for the night?"

"Well, if you can find me a replacement for a good night's sleep for last night, that'd do me fine." The unicorn in front of me let off a chuckle as he watched the tank's water level rise, myself giving my eyes a roll in response. How about a hoof sandwich, ya doofus... "Eh, if you're going to the Blitz Cafe, pick me up a Torpedo, maybe? Ol' Swordfish always knows how to make one hit the right spot. This oughta cover it..." The unicorn rummaged through his bag, pulling out a few bottlecaps and passing them over, eyes still looking in his pack as I pocketed the caps. Torpedo, huh?

Wearing a smirk, I turned about, lifting the lid on the emergency box under my seat and pulling out one of the red satchels, making sure to not bend the metal bands too much. Turning in one quick motion with the charge in hoof, Crown Sheet had just enough of a reaction to see what I was doing as the small explosive warning device smacked him clean in the face. He stumbled back a bit, giving his head a shake, while I just chuckled. "What? You said you wanted a torpedo, didn't you?"

"Funny, Casey, very funny. Just don't take too long, I'm starving and refilling the water is always a bit dull. And if I'm asleep when you get back, please don't wake me up with... this." The unicorn picked up the rail torpedo and waved it in the air between us for a moment, before putting it back in the emergency box for me. A smirk was across my muzzle as I stepped through the cab door and hopped down to the gravel below, taking a breath of the cool evening air. Mmm, maple sugar...

Heading eastwards into town, the rebuilt structures and odd newer wooden shack stood out against the remaining piles of rubble on the outskirts, streets lively with the residents and few caravans. A small engine began rumbling away as I headed past the mail office, looking over in time to see a caravan starting to head out for the north, led by one of those cute tiny tankettes they were making up at Cordite. Still surprised they can squeeze three ponies into one of those things... the deep, low blast of a large whistle snapped my attention off of the departing caravan, hoof reaching to retrieve the watch from my pocket. Yikes, knew we were held up for a bit due to that signal tower being out, but I didn't think we pulled in this late. Dinner's gonna have to wait a bit, especially if that was the whistle I think it was.

Picking up my pace, the street that would've led me to the diner passed by my side, as I headed out of the town and towards the chuffing steam and clattering tracks of the local Road Crew's vehicle. The scraping of metal on concrete filled the air as it rounded a corner, momentarily mounting the curb, the headlight and large front dozer blade of the Mammoth presenting themselves. Hopping out of the path of the steam tractor, I waved up at the cab as it trundled past, the flywheel atop the boiler slowing down slightly before coming to an idle, the tracks likewise coming to a halt. Least they're considerate, I guess... or, more likely, they just wanna pack it in for the day already. Make it quick, Casey.

A soot-faced stallion dropped out of the cab of the steam tractor and trotted over to me, rubbing at his muzzle a little. "Mmh, what'cha need, and why can't it be handled tomorrow? We're heading off-shift, night guys get on in fifteen." Well, bit more of a pleasant demeanor than I was expecting from a Road Crew guy, at least. I held a gentle smile as I nodded to him, leaning back on my hooves.

"I'm an engineer with Equestrian National Rail, just came to ask if you guys can spare some firewood for my locomotive while we're parked up here overnight. Just need enough to get past the Unicorn Range and to a proper service yard." The stallion ahead of me blunk, scratching at his scraggly mane under his hardhat. After a moment, he shrugged, spitting off to the side.

"Eh, guess we could spare a cord or two, yeah. I'll chat with Crosshead, see if we can't get the skidder crane over to load you up, and wire the costs ahead to Cantercross, see about getting the bill up to ENR HQ. You the only one stopped over?" Answering him in the affirmative, he responded with a quick nod of his own, turning about and trotting back to the simmering beast. I stepped back as the Mammoth's flywheel got up to speed, thick, white clouds blasting out the smokestack as it went back underway, the tracks clattering loudly as it steamed back into town. Right, that's one thing taken care of, let's see to dinner...

---

Kipper simmered quietly - least of all because my always-alert fireman was letting his fire die out while he took a nap, again - as I returned to the cab, a short sub and a hayburger carried in a paper bag along with me. The cab door slid open, and I pulled myself inside, the snoring unicorn in the seat beside me barely reacting, even as I slammed the door back shut behind him. Honestly, Crown Sheet, we could've at least gotten a hotel room before you passed out...

Setting the bag down on my chair, I pulled it open and retrieved the burger from it, carrying it down the tender's walkway and to the passageway behind us. Stepping through to the mail car, the faded light of night did me no favors in trying to find my way around - egh, thought we had this hooked up to Kipper's electrical systems, should at least be some light in here... "Stopwatch? You here anywhere? I, uh, got you something for dinner, if you wanted it. Dunno what you like, hope it's hayburgers, heh..."

Trotting further along inside the dark carriage, the cloth-covered metal of a crate met my forehoof, if a bit unfortunately at speed. A quick curse echoed in the darkness as I shook my hoof, getting the aches out of it, the hayburger I was carrying miraculously not getting dropped in the process. Fuggin... must be the cargo, I guess. Pretty damn heavy packaging there, the hell would they be hauling that needs that much protection? They find some buried treasure, or something?... maybe a peek wouldn't hurt...

Glancing around the railcar for a moment, I set the paper-wrapped burger down on a nearby table, trotting back over to the cargo. Moving around the large box, I lifted a hoof to push the fabric cover against it, trying to make out what some of the writing on the cloth said. RobronCo & Baltimare Locomotive Works... the heck was RobronCo doing partnering with a steamworks? Pff, maybe this prince was just pining for a top-of-the-line low-maintenance live steam model train set, or something. Would explain why Stopwatch would've needed the wood... must be a damn big set, though.

Doing one last check to make sure I was alone - Stopwatch could just be sleeping, or running errands, or something - I let curiosity get the better of me as my hooves moved to the bottom of the fabric cover. Starting to lift it up, the sudden, sharp hiss of steam being released caught my ears, making me fumble and drop the tarp back down, taking a step away from the crate. Kay, maybe he just forgot to drain the boiler before repacking it up, or something... and forgot to turn off the headlamps, too. An orangeish-yellow light escaped through portions of the fabric bag, myself the least bit hesitant to try getting another peek. But, damn my curiosity...

Trotting back up to the crate, I took hold of the fabric again, keeping my eyes closed shut as I tossed the edge up on top of the metal box. My ears caught the sounds of errant small hisses and moving clockwork, the soft yellow glow filling the area beside me, along with a small clatter of metal upon metal. Tentatively, I let my eyes reopen, turning to look into the crate. What I saw inside there, past metal bars... I can honestly say, of all the things that could've been in there, I was not expecting that. "H... hello."

I fell to my haunches, eyes staring in at the amber glow of... what were those things called, radio tubes or something? Pixie tubes? Whatever they were, they probably weren't originally meant to be serving as pupils in the eyes of... well, how else could I describe it other than a robot pony! It's eyes followed me as I sat in silence, jaw agape, its head tilting to the side curiously with a small whine of gears and hiss of steam. "Are you okay? You look a little... erm... surprised?"

"What... who, are you?" The brass and copper of the robot pony's coat glinted in the faint light that was being reflected around from it, as I steadied myself into a more comfortable sitting position. Okay... robot pony... well, erm, I guess it could be a he, maybe? And it's either programmed for conversation, or something else... gears whined and steam hissed as the robot mimicked me and sat up, its ears clanking against the roof of the cage it was inside. Rather unnervingly, it actually went and ducked after that. It formed a grin, somehow, resting on its metal hooves as it looked at me.

"I'm a worthless scrapheap automa-whatever, or, at least that's what the pony with the helmet called me. I think I like what the other pony calls me better, though - an automaton." The way that this robot just so cheerfully called him- itself a worthless scrapheap automaton... yeah, I gotta hope that whatever learning system he's- it's got isn't entirely persistent. Or, at least can understand some kind of abusive situation... Its pistons hissed again as it adjusted itself, the glass tube eyes flickering in what I assume was it's way of blinking. "He's been calling me Ottie a lot more often, though. I like that name. What's your name?"

"U-uh... Water Case, I'm, uh, I'm Water Case. You can call me Casey, though, if you want." The robot pony... Ottie, blunk as he nodded ahead of me, still smiling through the bars of his box. That crate would barely be comfortable if it were a normal pony inside it... this was the cargo... "What... this might seem a bit out of the blue, but do you know where you're going? Who you're... who you're going to... uh... live with, I guess?"

Ottie tilted his head again, his metal ears scraping against the cage's top, and flinching as they did once again. He thought for a moment, his inner workings whirring and hissing idly, before the grin came back across his muzzle. "I'm going to go live with a prince in a far-away land! Oh, it's going to be so exciting to be able to see new things and meet other new ponies, I hope he's a nice guy. The pony who talks to me the most doesn't like chatting about the prince too much, he just sorta reaches his hoof around his belly like this when I ask." Sitting himself back, Ottie lifted one of his metallic forehooves up, moving it around to press against his back left side with a few metallic clinks and scrapes. Stopwatch always reaches there when he's asked about the prince, huh? Hrm... The robot pony moved back to his sitting position, still grinning. "He says that there'll be lots of things for me to do there, though, and lots of ponies will be able to see me every day!"

"Until the novelty wears off and Master Brayef is crowned as King, anyways." I'll admit, my rump did leave the ground entirely when that quiet, familiar voice broke the air in the darkness beside us. Damn that stallion, he's too good at sneaking around! If he doesn't give me a heart attack before this trip is over, I'll consider myself lucky. Stopwatch trotted forth as I calmed myself back down, the unicorn's horn alighting and turning on the electric lamps in the carriage. In retrospect, I dunno why I didn't do that myself in the first place. "After that... Ottie would be lucky if he ended up like me."

Practically knowing what I was going to ask next, Stopwatch turned to face his left flank towards me, myself taking a moment to see what it was that Ottie said he reached for. That was, until, a rather ornately-formed, scarred-over 'B' in a similarly-scarred circle became clear, just ahead of his cutie mark. That kind of scarring... oh, goddesses... "Truthfully I'm not entirely certain of how Master Brayef would brand Ottie's peculiar coat, but that's beside the point. Once we reach the port in the north..."

"What do you mean by 'brand my coat'? Is he going to give me a RobronCo paint job or something? That would be nice of him, even if I kinda like my coppery-brass look." He doesn't even... Celestia above... Stopwatch let off a resigned sigh, as I shakily pulled myself to my hooves. I'm gonna be sick. Stumbling forwards, I managed to just about get to one of the loading doors for the mail carriage to pull it open a little ways, just enough to lean my head out. Heaving a few times, gagging for most of it, the taste of dinner and bile only just came back up, all four legs shaking as I eventually pulled myself back together. This... this robot was going to be... I was pulling... oh, no...

Shuddering, quick breaths left me as I blinked my eyes back open, wiping some errant drool from my muzzle. With weak hooves, I pulled the door back shut, resting against the wall for a few moments as Ottie clanked and hissed idly behind me in his... in... gweuh... Stopwatch's hooves trotted lightly on the wooden floor, the unicorn meeting me with a faint look of surprise. "I... didn't realize you'd react quite in that manner. I'll be sure to refrain from any further contact, if you're so adverse to speaking to slaves-"

"No! No, uh, no, it's really... pretty much the opposite..." I turned about, trotting back over to where Ottie sat in his box, still shuddering from the taste of bile. He doesn't even understand what's going on, what's going to happen to him, does he? A sigh escaped me as I sat back down in front of the robot pony. "I... I took this job, because I thought that it was that one rare chance to pull a train that doesn't have any slaver cars on it. If I don't get this job done... I'll lose pretty much everything. But, now, if I do get it done..." I let myself trail off on that, just shaking my head.

Stopwatch trotted over, gently resting a hoof on my shoulder, all three of us just sitting quiet for a moment... that lasted about two seconds, before there was a very loud banging on the other end of the carriage. "HEY, PROPERTY OF PRINCE WHAT'S-HIS-FACE! Get up to that lazy engine of ours and ask what's the deal with the hot water line, my bath's running cold!! They better get this fixed, or I'll throw you on the flames myself!" Oh, right, that guy was still onboard with us... and assuming he meant the steam heater lines, then that means I've got a certain unicorn to wake up myself.

Stopwatch loosed a long sigh, as I took one last long look at Ottie, getting to my hooves. The malnourished unicorn took a glance back at the rear door, eyes settling on myself instead. I passed on a nod. "Al... alright. I've... gotta go wake up my fireman. You both..." Ottie looked up at me with those curious, amber-glowing eyes of his, tilting his head again - ears scraping against the cage again. I blunk after a moment, looking at the metal bars a bit more closely. Maybe there is at least something I could do... "You both just wait here. I've... got an idea."

Rubbing at my sore eyes a little - gwuugh, the aftershocks always take a while to settle - I stepped through the passageway to the tender, the idle chuffing of a small steam engine and clattering of steel tracks catching my ears as I stepped back out into Kipper's cab. A short double-blast on the whistle of the Mammoth proved sufficient to jolt Crown Sheet back awake, his magic hastily grabbing another few pieces of firewood and holding them defensively in front of himself, flailing his hooves as his eyes darted around the cab. After a moment, he finally relaxed, looking at the cut wood and tossing them on, the flames nearly died out as it is. Honestly...

"Ewuh, given how low the fire was, I would've thought you'd go for the prybar and torpedo trick again, Casey. We aren't exactly running a surplus of steam..." Really? I would've never guessed, any other discoveries you wanna share with us, AK Yearling? Crown Sheet tapped the main steam gauge with a forehoof, eyes going wide as the needle settled... oh, jeez, how in the hell is that bathroom set up on that car?! Does it just condense steam down to hot water directly or something? "Fuck me, we don't have a leak somewhere, do we? Uh... wait, could we have the Road Crew look at it? They've at least got some tools for steam maint-"

The low whistle of the Mammoth broke the air again as it came to a stop beside us, Crown Sheet finally moving to look out his window. There was a volley of shouted commands as another steam engine hissed to life, a bucket clattering against a pile of chopped wood moments later, Water Case letting off a guilty chuckle as he turned to look back to me. I just gave him a roll of the eyes in response. "Was gonna wake you up anyways, reason we're so low on steam is because - besides the fact that you're letting your narcolepsy get the better of you, again - that damn mercenary's gone and used all the heating steam for a hot bath. Wants us to fix that for him."

"...you're shitting me. Ugh, figures it'd be our luck that the fancy prince car doesn't have it's own water heater onboard..." Crown Sheet gave his head a shake as he looked over the levels and gauges again, fiddling with a few of them. Well, at least we're not too short on water ourselves... this is over a thousand-gallon boiler, how in the hell did a hot bath drain it so fast like that!? The injectors hissed to life regardless, the unicorn beside me in the cab letting off a sigh as he started moving some more wood onto the fire, further bucketfuls being dropped in. "Well, might take a bit, but I should be able to get a good header back up before tomorrow. So long as that idiot isn't taking all-night baths, anyways..."

"Worse comes to, I'll just tell him he'll have to explain to his boss that the reason we're running late is because he drained all our steam. Who knows, that might even get him off our train for good..." There was another loud clatter as another bucketful of chopped wood landed in the tender behind us, myself moving for the doorway to step down out of the cab. Crown Sheet seemed to have it all under control for the moment, anyways... and it *was* his fault for letting the fire die down. "Hold the fort for a sec, gotta ask the Road Crew for something."

Crown Sheet gave a quick nod as I hopped back to the gravel of the yard, the crane still chuffing away and loading more firewood. One of the crew tending the boiler looked over to me for a moment before refocusing on his own gauges, most more focused on running the crane - yeah, can't blame them too much for that, that A-frame sure is a bit of a far cry from some of the more modern stuff available. Trotting over towards the resting Mammoth, the faded print on the side of the crane's skids made me snicker the lightest bit - sure is appropriate for a steam donkey like that to be owned by something called 'Burro Industries'. Or, well, previously owned, anyways...

The Road Crew stallion in the Mammoth's cab climbed down out of it to meet me, rubbing at his forehead slightly with his foreleg. Whuff, not to be too rude, but a warm steam bath would not be the worst idea for you to consider... he let off a short grunt, looking over to Kipper behind me. "Should have the wood loaded for you in about an hour or so, Flyball's already wired the bill up north. Lucky we finished the big chop a few days ago, if you showed up a few days later we'd had to've just sent you on through. Gotta keep some wood for our stuff, after all."

Giving him a small nod, I leaned back on my hooves, wearing a smile. "No worries, I understand that. Nice seeing these old things not rusting away or being used for some yahoo's armored wagon..." The stallion smirked in return before giving his back a stretch, the loud clatter of firewood falling upon itself echoing from the tender again. Alright, small talk made, let's get on with the actual reason you're here, Casey... "So, question, you guys wouldn't happen to have a portable cutting torch free anywhere, would you? My fireman managed to padlock a storage closet on the luggage car there shut and lost the key for it, kinda seems like it'd be too hefty for some bolt cutters, frustratingly."

The Road Crew stallion let off a noncommittal grunt, scratching at the back of his head under his hard hat idly. Please just be thinking, please just be thinking... please just be thinking yes. After a moment, he passed on a shrug, looking back to the Mammoth. "Eh, guess we could do that for ya. Ain't like they're getting much use down here anyways, hardly any scrap left 'round here for chopping up. I'll get one of the boys to grab it for ya, just hang tight for a while." Answering him with a nod, he started to turn back towards the Mammoth as I likewise headed back to Kipper, before he caught himself. "Ahm, you do know how to use one, yeah?"

Looking back towards the stallion, I gave my hoof a wave, wearing a smirk. "Of course I do, I've been working for ENR for most of my life, that includes general maintenance of the locomotives. Trust me, I know what I'm doing." The Road Crew stallion studied me for a moment before passing on a shrug, turning and continuing on his path. Another bucketful of wood clattered into the back of Kipper's tender as I headed back towards the train - yeah, well, it'll work out...

---

"Try and stay back, Ottie, because I don't entirely know what I'm doing here..." The cutting torch hung heavy on my back as I stood inside the mail carriage, the jet from the torch burning a bright blue a few inches short of the first of the bars. Only need to cut away enough of them that Ottie can get out... and screw covering our tracks about it. No passengers ride in cages on my train. I flipped the goggles' visor down, making the interior just as dark as it was before, even with the lights on now. The bright jet from the cutting torch was dimmed just enough as to not be too blinding, and taking the bit in my mouth - and making sure Ottie should be mostly clear from the splash - I started to make the cut.

Hot yellow-orange slag flew from the steel as it was blown through, showering the heavy fabric on the other side of the cage with the burning embers as the bar was sliced clean in half... okay, well, maybe not 'clean' per say, but, you know, it's been cut at least! I've got like three or four more bars to practice on anyways, at the least... releasing the trigger for the cutting jet, the flame returned to the bright bluish-white color, and I brought it over to the second bar, starting to heat that one up. Flipping the visor up for the time being, my eyes focused back on Ottie, his tube-eyes watching with a certain level of curiosity... or maybe worry. "You doing alright?"

The robot pony nodded slowly, watching the flame from the torch as it heated the steel red hot, then a glowing orange. Flipping the visor back down and taking the trigger in my muzzle again, I started the second cut, this one going a bit easier than the first... I think. Maybe I should've asked for some pointers before doing this. The second bar split with a small metallic twang, and I soon started on the third bar, watching the flame jet heat it up through the stages before beginning the cut. Orange bits of slag and sparks littered the floor of Ottie's cage and smouldered on the inside of the tarp that covered it, the robot pony inside whirring and hissing as he pulled back to try and avoid them. Two and a half down, two and a half to go...

The fourth and fifth bars went about as smoothly as the rest, which was at least comforting in knowing I'm consistent with my inexperience, myself moving back from the cage and flipping the visor up, grin on my muzzle. Five bars cut at the top, just gotta bend them all out of the way and... what's that clanking noise? Looking over to the side of the cage, the... padlock keeping the door shut was jerked a few times in a magic aura. Looking past it, Stopwatch's horn was alight, the unicorn looking to me with an expression somewhere inbetween 'seriously?' and 'for Celestia's sake', the snark levels peaking dangerously as he gave a classic single-eyebrow-raise. Yeah, in retrospect, that probably -would- have been faster to do. A weak chuckle escaped me as I met his eyes with mine, rubbing at the back of my neck. "I mean... well, I tried! Better this way, it can't be used as a cage again, right?"

Stopwatch only responded with a sigh, as I flipped down the visor and started to work on the significantly smaller-in-diameter lock bolt. It was cut through in about half the time it took just one of the steel bars, the unicorn carefully manipulating the hot steel to remove it before casting it out the door on the side not visible to the Road Crew. Spitting out the bit for the last time, I fumbled with the valves for a moment, cutting off the flow of gases to the torch nozzle and letting off a relaxed sigh. There we go.

The cage door creaked open on its hinges as I stepped backwards with it in hoof, Ottie's tube eyes blinking at me. Slowly, with several soft hisses of pressure and whirs of gears, the robot pony moved forwards, out of the cage, his steel hooves tentatively pressing against the floorboards of the railcar. As he lifted himself to full height, the mechanisms in his lower body ground and squealed for a few short moments, before he stumbled and fell back to sitting instead with a heavy thud and clang. And, rather alarmingly, quite a real expression of pain on his muzzle as well...

Acting more than thinking, I rushed to try and help him, only to find myself caught in a magic aura. Stopwatch soon entered my view, quite an equal look of concern on his own muzzle, a short satchel of tools being pulled over from one of the other areas of the car. "I'll tend to Ottie. You should return the torch, and I would also suggest coming up with an excuse for the thud as well, if your fireman asks. You've... you've done enough for now." Moving backwards, out of Stopwatch's aura, I couldn't help but catch the faintest sparkle of a tear resting in the corner of the unicorn's eyes, a grin creeping along his muzzle.

Looking down to the cutting torch still hung off of my side, I passed on a nod, moving over to the side door opposite where the Road Crew were working. Sliding it open a crack and making sure the coast was clear, I widened the gap and dropped down, making sure it was slid closed right after. A sigh escaped me as a pair of short whistle blasts came from the opposite side of the yard, and I started the long trek around the front of Kipper to try and catch the Road Crew before they wrapped up fully. You did good tonight, Casey...

---

The early dawn light made the mountains cast long shadows across the town, Kipper simmering gently as we woke her back up. The firebox doors clattered together as Crown Sheet brought the flames up to a roar, taking a few deep draws of the cool morning air and giving his head a shake. Come on buddy, just a few hundred miles of switchbacks and five percent grades to go... "You awake, there?"

"Nnfh, just dealing with last night's dreams, had that friggin' robot pony dream again. Second night in a row, seriously..." He shook his head in disbelief, turning on the main pumps and tuning the water level indicators. I admit I chuckled a little harder than usual at that - if only he knew... A sigh left my lips as he passed on a short glare, resting back in his seat. "Yeah, yeah, at least I did sleep some. Let's just try and hit the Biscuit switchback before night, dunno how long that Sparkle-Cola I had for breakfast will keep me going."

Giving him a roll of the eyes, I started on the checklist. Cylinder cocks open, reverser forwards, and a short double-blast on Kipper's whistle had us starting off as I pulled the throttle back, steam hissing through the dome and to the cylinders. Billowing white clouds blew out either side to the yard, covering everything in a fine mist, the junction passing underneath with a clack from each of the wheels. Our speed slowly picked up as we headed onwards to the Unicorn range, the white clouds being directed up out through the stack as we properly got underway. Crown Sheet looked back towards the tender as he pulled a few more logs up, tossing them in. "So, uh, you know what that metallic clang was last night? Just the Road Crew being clumsy, or something? Hope they didn't bang up the tender any..."

I jerked a little as he brought it up. Shit, he did hear that? And, of course, I forgot to think up an excuse... well, at least Ottie's out of the cage now, anyways. "U-uh... yeah, probably just the Road Crew being a bit clumsy. You saw what they had to work with, that ancient steam donkey... pfeh, get this, it used to be owned by some company called Burro Industries. Saw the faded branding on one of the skids." That at least got a chuckle from him, might have distracted him enough. Smooth, Casey... Crown Sheet tossed a few more pieces of firewood in, the countryside giving way to the steep range that rose up to the air above.

"Hah, insultingly appropriate, I guess. Well, least we've got plenty enough to make it to Biscuit now, even if they need more firewood in back... what was it for, again?" Goddess-damnit Crown Sheet, stop asking so many questions, would you? Or... nnfh... maybe he ought to know about Ottie... guh. I'll try and figure it out before we get to Biscuit... "...uh, Casey?" ...and maybe I should figure out what to say right now, too.

"Um, ah, fire stove, yeah, they've got an old fire cooking stove back there that he wanted to make sure worked. Yeah, isn't standard for a mail carriage, but, y'know, it's something. Ahem." The unicorn beside me nodded slowly as the firebox doors clattered again, myself looking straight ahead towards the tunnel leading into the mountains.

Smooth, Casey, real smooth...