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Beware the noise monster

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Pony is for heated blanket

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It is spooktober once again. How are you dressing up your pony this halloween?

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>>42623291
You better delete your browser history quick.

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>>42623268
Catpony maids are the future!

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Pony is showing off her new accessories at the neighborhood pony meetup
They're clip ons
She thinks they make her look cool but she's too much of a wuss to get real piercings

>>42623346
That's not a real catpony, she just stuffed her tail into a stocking!
Who let her find out what anime is?

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>when you get your allowance but amazon is out of moonpies
Truly a life of suffering. How ever will she survive in this cruel world.

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I want to run my fingers through that floofa. It must be soooo soft.

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>>42623619

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>>42623268
Some tamed the monster.

Woo, we're back! I have two updates to post, I was just about to drop them directly on ponepaste. Lemme do a very quick editing pass, and we shall be on our way!

>>42582897

> Thistle couldn't stop her hooves shaking as she stalked through the camp. Her heart was hammering, and her ears wouldn't stay still - upright and alert one moment, and laid flat the next. Her muzzle went from scrunching to smiling, and back.
> She was worried she might explode with the mix of pent-up frustration and exhilaration. How could only a few words from Aybek done this to her?! Where had her politician's self-control gone? Had she really gotten that weak, mentally, even as she became physically strong in this land?
> They had word of Rainy Day!
> That alone should have been enough for celebration. The pegasus was, apparently, doing well for herself. A court of some king, or some kind of a ruler. Thistle didn't quite understand the strange words the traders used. They called the person 'Khagan', and spoke the word with an odd mixture of reverence and derision.
> None of the nomads though much of the cities the other peoples built. They preferred life out on the open plains, being able to move to better hunting grounds or away from their enemies. Living in a city was like staying in a prison of walls, where enemy armies could find you easily.
> Whatever their word and their attitude to this ruler, it sounded as if Rainy Day was a full-fledged member of their court. Thistle wondered if her friend had learned their language, and like herself, used her advanced Equestrian knowledge to make herself valuable and important.
> She had to find out more! The thought of Aybek made her snort through her nose and fold her ears in annoyance. She knew the scrunch was back in her muzzle, but she didn't care.
> Could the man not see how important this was to her?! She'd managed to get a few words in when he was leaving Salki's tent, but he said he was tired and she should come see him the next day. Maybe he would have time for her.
> Maybe!
> She'd followed him to the tent the nomads had graciously offered the caravan leader, and he'd told her the little tantalizing bits he knew. He said he'd heard from someone named 'Souleyman', who she though was a leader of another trading group, that he'd had Rainy Day in his possession and traded her for twenty sacks of rice and a dozen pots of salt to some people in a village far to the East.
> That had been over a year ago. This Souleyman apparently traded with the eastern villages regularly, and this year he'd heard that the pony had made herself comfortable in their ruler's palace.
> He said she wore fine silks, and was carried around on a palanquin. He didn't use that word, but that's what it was, according to the description, unless the story had been mangled beyond recognition by telling and re-telling.
> That would indicate that Rainy Day had fallen on her hooves and was reasonably comfortable.

>>42623743

> If Thistle could be sure, that would mean she could return to Equestria with a slightly easier conscience, knowing that her friend wasn't in immediate danger. They'd still have to go rescue her, but she didn't have to do something *now*.
> What she even could do, even if she'd heard that Rainy Day was suffering immensely, Thistle tried not to think about. For all her status and influence, she doubted she could make the Borchi-Quin go anywhere near the kingdom in the far East.
> She wanted to ask more, but Aybek simply said, in no uncertain terms, that he was tired, and ducked into his tent. Very nearly she'd followed him in, but a look of pure outrage from Darga stopped her.
> After that, she tried seeking out the other traders, hoping they would be done with trading and amenable to some talk. A few were, and pretty much confirmed what she'd heard, with minor variations.
> Rainy Day was a flying pony and she was a prisoner. No, she ruled the kingdom in all but name. No, that was wrong- she was the Khagan's pet- no, his mount, and he rode into battle on her back.
> When that last trader was told Rainy Day was no larger than Thistle, he grew thoughtful and refused to speak any more, doubtless unwilling to suffer more embarrassment.
> Some of the traders were otherwise occupied in the tents, noisily and messily collecting a part of their payment from the Borchi-Quin slaves. She tried not to think about that part, and she wasn't keen on interrupting them.
> A few were already too drunk to be any use to her.
> The best thing she could do was go and relax until morning. She could attack the problem again with a fresh perspective and rested - as well as she could with the night she and Rangi had planned.
> She would have to go easy on the alcohol, get up very early in the morning, and chase down the visitors before they departed. Per her prior experience, the traders liked to be away before the sun got above the horizon.
> She'd have to catch them at breakfast and, most importantly, get some more details out of Aybek himself. With his influence and position as the leader of the trading caravan, she figured he might have the best information, least corrupted by the passage from person to person.
> With luck he would be a little more inclined to speak with her in the day, once he saw the color of her mane.
> She'd let him shave her bald in exchange for information!
> For now, though, her greatest challenge was to put it all aside, at least for a few hours, find Rangi and the skin of beer he should have gotten, and have some fun.
> After all, if she disregarded the more outlandish and horrible rumours, she'd just gotten some good news. Rainy Day was alive and doing well!

>>42623747
trash green

>>42623747

> That last finally helped her fix a smile on her muzzle and put a bit of a bounce in her step. Aybek's attitude wasn't important. The dead ends with his caravan members wouldn't stop her. She had some news, at last!
> She found Xuan's tent, but there was no one outside. The fire was still burning, so maybe the woman had stepped away for a short while, or she'd gone into the tent to care for Guuni. Thistle approached and stuck her head through the opening.
> Both Xuan and Buygra were there, with their daughter wrapped up in blankets between them. They fell silent from a murmured conversation when they spotted her. There was just enough light so they could see her grin fade, and her ears fold down.
"[Sorry! I didn't mean to interrupt!]"
> She'd remembered to keep her voice down so as not to wake the child.
> The pair stared at her for a while, then Xuan asked: "[What do you want?]" she sounded a little impatient, and Thistle wondered if she'd interrupted something romantic. It wouldn't be unusual, even with their infant in the tent. Disregarding their habit of wearing clothes, the nomads had fewer and stranger notions of privacy than ponies.
"[I'm looking for Rangi. He was supposed to have something for me from the traders.]"
> "[He left,]" Xuan said. "[I don't know where, he said you would know. He said to find him at the last place.]"
> Last place? She frowned in confusion, then realized what he must have meant. She was glad the dim light hid colors, or her friends would surely see her blush. She began to back out, working hard to keep her voice neutral.
"[Ah. I see. I know where he is. Um- thank you.]"
> Before they could comment, or ask what she meant, Thistle turned and hurried away. She paused only long enough to pluck a torch which had been driven into the ground by one of the tents, and then to light it in the embers of a nearly-dead fire at the edge of the camp.
> She would need to find the stream in the dark, but she remembered the way quite well.
> It would keep them private, and the burbling of the water would muffle any small sounds they made. It wasn't a bad spot, but she wished it was a little closer.
> Still, there was beer to be had, and then Rangi. She didn't know which one she needed more.
> Except she'd have to go easy on the beer, especially if she wanted to be in a condition to question the traders in the morning.
> Maybe she could order Rangi to keep it away from her?

> ~~~~

> It hadn't worked, life was full of misery, and the only reason to exist was to suffer. No amount of gargling water or spitting took away the taste in her mouth, and every single hoofstep felt like a hammer on her skull. To make it all worse, the sun was well up by the time they'd woken up, which would mean the traders had gone!

>>42623750

> Thistle would have hoofed herself in the face, if that didn't risk splitting her head open.
> Rangi had done too well, and the sack of beer he'd sneaked away for them was completely full, fresh, delicious, and devastating.
> It had still been worth it, mostly. At least if she forgot about any details around Rainy Day's situation she might have missed with Aybek. *Maybe* it had been worth it. Thistle glanced back, where the young nomad was following in her hoofsteps, face carefully neutral but with his eyes lighting up each time they landed on her rump.
> No, she didn't regret the night, and she'd decided she would take the hangover as a fair price to pay for a few blissful hours with no worries, no planning, and - above all - no inhibitions.
> All four legs were sore, and her back had actual bruises where she'd been lying on stones. There was dry dirt in her fur, and her tail was matted, but neither of those would be a problem. She'd done just enough with her face and mane to be presentable, and with luck the sun would dry her out by the time they reached the center of the camp.
> It was indeed nice and warm on her back, and the sky didn't have a single cloud. It would be a lovely day in the late autumn.
> With the tents close enough for her eyes to discern individual nomads, Thistle slowed down until Rangi was beside her.
"[Not a word to anyone, remember?]"
> He didn't seem convinced, but nodded at her anyway.
"[Maybe someday. Maybe if we go to my home, it will be different. Someday, the Borchi-Quin will understand. For now, it's best if they do not know.]"
> At this the lad shrugged and said: "[Okay. I don't care as long as we can keep doing that. I liked how you sat on my-]"
"[Hush!]"
> She glanced around reflexively, even though she would have heard any other nomad approaching.
> "[It's true!]" Rangi went on plaintively. "[I never heard a man can lie on his back and the- well, female can-]"
"[Yes, but hush! Enough! We're going among people, behave!]"
> His eyebrows knitted together in a frown, but then he rolled his eyes and muttered: "[Fine.]"
> She thought the matter was settled, but he quickly leaned down and pressed his lips against her cheek before she could dodge. Maybe she should have been upset, but the quick peck had sent her heart beating faster. It was nice to feel appreciated.
> Was there something more happening between them? She'd thought all they had was sex, and that was enough for her. She was sure it was enough for him, too!
> Thistle almost opened her mouth and asked, but they were getting quite close and she'd have to stop if they wanted to finish their conversation in private. It wasn't the time and maybe she was reading too much into his gestures. She would watch him for a while and then decide what to do.

>>42623756

"[Take the skin back to Xuan and tell her thanks from me. I will go and see Janus to discuss how I will pay for the knife he gave you.]"
> Rangi didn't object. The now empty skin was hanging from his shoulder as he walked off. She watched him go, but mostly to double check that he was presentable and there weren't any obvious signs of what the two of them had been up to.
> A keen-eyed nomad would probably guess that the youth had slept outside, and they may wonder why a Ruslan slave would spend the night away from the camp. She'd have to do something about it. Perhaps spread a rumor that he was being punished that way.
> She was still thinking about it when she reached the forge near the central clearing. It was cold and silent, with neither Janus nor his apprentices in sight. For that matter, his tent was closed and the cooking fire outside was long dead.
> Thistle scoffed to herself. If nothing else, knowing that someone else had it worse than her was a small comfort against the twisting in her stomach and the stabbing pain in her temple. She got a bit of her bounce back in her steps as she made her way over and pushed her head into the tent.
> There was scrambling in the dark and a muffled yelp. It didn't sound in the least bit like Janus!
> Alarmed, she pulled back and pushed the flap aside with a hoof to let some light in.
> The blacksmith was sitting upright with an animal skin across his knees. His chest was bare, but that wasn't remarkable if he'd been sleeping. More importantly, she saw a lump under the blankets beside him, and heard rustling and heavy breathing as the other person fumbled around.
> She also got a noseful of the smell, and it told her everything she needed to know. He'd had company last night, and they'd been about as busy as she and Rangi, except in an enclosed space.
> The surprise drew the name from her lips:
"[Gol?!]"
> There was a fresh 'eep!' from the blankets and Janus gave her a weird look. "[How you know?]" he demanded.
> She just wordlessly tapped her hoof on her nose.
> After the initial shock, the mare shrugged to herself. There was nothing wrong with it and Gol was getting to that age when she would start looking, at least if other nomad girls were any indication. There might have been Intor's hand in this, tying her family to the blacksmith who was quickly becoming the most important person in the camp other than the Chieftain and the shaman.

>>42623758

> Thistle made a mental note to have a heart-to-heart later with Gol and make sure she wasn't being coerced. She'd like to think Janus wouldn't do such a thing, but she knew what his main motivations had been in coming to the nomads' lands. He'd told her plainly enough, and a pretty, young thing like Gol would be practically irresistible to any man. At least that was what Thistle thought.
> She realized her tail had crept up, and forcefully pushed it down. The blush could be explained by catching the two in a compromising position. Sweet Celestia, but in a year or two, Gol would be irresistible to *her* too!
> Some days she was as bad as any nomad!
"[Sorry, I didn't mean to come in like this. I won't tell anyone, I promise.]"
> Janus sighed and pulled the blanket away from Gol's face. She couldn't meet Thistle's eyes. "[It's fine,]" Janus said. "[Others probably saw us. We drank, and we talked, and well...]" he spread his arms helplessly.
"[That's fine. Um, I'll come back later. You need to tell me what I owe you for the knife you gave Rangi.]"
> "[What knife?]" Janus asked.
> Thistle blinked in surprise.
"[I sent him to ask you for a little something - a knife or a bracelet he could trade for beer. For me. He said you gave him a bronze knife.]"
> The blacksmith jumped to his feet, which dislodged the skin he'd been using to cover himself and displayed everything he had to offer to Thistle. She backed out of the tent, but not before catching a good look.
> He wasn't badly endowed, at least in her experience. The shameful though was hard to push down, and she had to forcefully clamp her wayward tail down yet again.
> In moments, Janus had wrapped his apron around himself and stumbled out of the tent. He was barefoot, but the ground was nicely warmed by the early sun and he deftly avoided stones and bits of metal on his way to the forge.
> Not knowing what else to do, she followed him and watched as the he poked around his workspace, upended several sacks of half-finished lumps of metal, and even dug through the cold ashes of the forge.
> "[Damn it, it's gone!]" he swore.
"[What is?]" she asked, even though she already knew the answer.
> Her ears were already down, and her muzzle was scrunching at the thought of Rangi.
> Janus spread his arms helplessly. "[That good knife I make for Willow! Now I have to make another! Rangi stolen it! I left it here, in sack,]" he shook the empty leather bag at her, "[so I could sharpen it today. That little thief!]"
> A sad little sigh escaped her and Thistle tried to put on her most reconciliatory voice.
"[I'm sorry. I told him to trade. Maybe he didn't find you. I'll talk to him. I'll pay you for the knife, I promise.]"

>>42623760

> "[You can tell Willow why knife not ready!]" Janus told her. "[We will talk about pay later. First you bring boy here, I beat his ass for stealing. No slave boy steal from me!]"
> His control of the language slipped when he was particularly excited or upset, and Thistle couldn't blame him. She also didn't want Rangi beaten blue, possibly injured.
"[No, I'll discipline him. Don't worry about it. I will talk to Willow, and I will pay for the knife.]"
> Janus didn't look fully convinced, but his shoulders slumped and he let the matter go. It probably helped that Gol had dressed and come out of the tent. She looked ready to run away, uneasy at being seen there and at his anger.
> The sight of the young woman chased the storm clouds away from Janus' face and he hurried to her. "[No fear,]" he told her in a much softer tone. "[It is fine. We sort it out. Nothing to worry.]"
> She relaxed, but Gol still looked around apprehensively. "[I must go. Mother will be looking for me,]" she said.
> "[Will you come see me again?]" Janus asked, reaching out to grab her hand.
> She gave him a bright smile. "[Yes. Mother said I could. We will talk later!]" With that she was gone.
> Her words only solidified the idea that the liaison was all Intor's idea. She'd have to find Gol alone and really talk to her, woman to woman. Just because her mother was a stubborn and demanding person didn't mean Gol had to live her entire life in her shadow and on her whim.
> It was a problem for later. First, she had to figure out what to do with Rangi. How should one even punish a slave, other than by beating? She knew she couldn't do that. There had to be another way.
> Maybe she could ask Xuan.
> With her ears completely flat, and the taste of the hangover worse than ever in her mouth, she set off to find the errant slave and her friend, hopefully in the same place.

> ~~~~

"[What were you thinking?!]" Thistle nearly yelled. "[Did you think I wouldn't find out?]"
> The object of her anger, Rangi, was hugging his knees to his chest where he sat in their tent and refused to meet her gaze. He mumbled some explanation which even her sensitive ears didn't catch.
"[What?!]"
> This time he managed something intelligible: "[I knew he wouldn't give it to me and I knew you wanted to drink beer.]"
"[You didn't even *ask*?!]"
> Her face was painful from the angry scrunch of her muzzle, and from the residual hangover, and she wanted to slap the idiot boy so badly her hoof itched. She didn't, but it was a hard-won battle.
> "[You said you will pay him anyway! What does it matter?]"
> Pure disbelief ran through her, like a shockwave.
"[What does it-]
> She shook her head in confusion and tried again with her eyes closed so she could focus more on her words.

>>42623766

"[What does it matter? Rangi, you stole from someone in the camp! If Janus wanted he could beat you, or worse! You're not a girl, no one would care what happened to you! Even Saule would be okay with it when Janus told her why he'd done it!]"
> Her ears were pressed so flat that she had trouble hearing even her own voice, which was probably why she hadn't heard anything. When she looked, she saw Rangi staring past her in mute horror. There was more light in the tent, too.
> "[What does he need to tell me? What did Janus do?]" Saule asked as she let the tent flap fall.
"[Oh no...]" Thistle moaned too quietly for anyone to hear.
> When no answer was forthcoming, Saule simply grabbed Thistle's mane in her fist and pulled the mare around through manual force. "[Tell me,]" she commanded, her face already darkening.
> At the same time Thistle felt Rangi's grip around her hind fetlock as he wordlessly pleaded with her. They both knew that Saule would be *pissed*. There was no telling what she'd do.
> Thistle swallowed, but couldn't quite make herself form words, which didn't help the woman's temper. Her eyebrows drew together and she lifted Thistle higher, so their faces were closer. She had to stand on the tips of her forehooves if she didn't want the angry nomad to pull out her mane.
"[Ow! Let me down!]"
> "[Tell me why you were yelling at Rangi. What has he done? What about Janus? If I have to go and ask him it will not end well for you two. You are both still my slaves, remember?]"
> The pressure around her fetlock tightened and Thistle caught a small whimper from the boy. So *now* he was worried about consequences? She couldn't decide if he was completely stupid, or had some youthful flash of bravado last night, or maybe he'd gotten drunk on the beer before making that idiotic decision.
> She sighed, let her ears splay, and lowered her eyes from Saule's.
"[I was yelling because I was worried.]"
> Saule was growing more impatient, but for now she decided to play along. "[Why are you worried?]" she asked.
"[Um- I took something from Janus. A knife he was making for Willow. I will pay for it!]" she added urgently.
> For the longest time there was nothing. No words of recrimination, no anger, no accusations. Most importantly, no beating.
> Thistle's lungs were burning from holding her breath and she let it out as slowly as she could. Even so it sounded too loud in the still air.
> "[I see,]" Saule said at last. "[This will reflect badly on me, which means it will reflect badly on the Chieftain. His own slaves are stealing.]"
"[I didn't steal it!]" Thistle said more plaintively than she'd intended. "[I will pay for it!]"
> "[How will you pay for it?]"
"[I will work for Janus until it is paid!]"

>>42623773

> Saule shrugged, then shook her head. "[You will, yes, but the insult has already been done.]"
"[W-What are you going to do?]"
> There was another squeeze on her fetlock, this time full of Rangi's gratitude and support. It was curious, Thistle thought with a small part of her mind, how expressive that simple gesture turned out to be.
> Saule didn't see their interaction, though, and the mare made sure not to shift or look back. She hoped the woman would forget about Rangi, who was far easier to punish than the valuable and respected almost-shaman-pony.
> At long last, Saule shrugged. "[You will be beaten, because Salki will never agree to more. After you've been beaten, you will work for Janus every night until *he* says the item is paid for. You will not stop any of your duties for me or Salki.]"
> After a moment's thought, the woman snorted through her nose. "[As if you do any tasks for us. I think we've forgotten a little that you're really nothing more than a slave. I'll make sure Salki remembers this.]"
> It wasn't good, and Thistle wasn't looking forward to the beating. She thought about Salki and wondered if he'd be willing to reduce the sentence. Maybe if she asked very nicely.
> Something in her expression must have given it away, because Saule gave her a nasty grin and tightened her grip. "[Oh, it will not be so easy. Salki won't hear of this until it is done. Come, let's get it over with right now!]"
> She began dragging the mare out of the tent and at the same time Rangi tried to keep her in place through his grip on her hind leg. She gave him a light kick to free herself and then quickly followed Saule outside before the fool boy could make it worse, not only for himself but for Thistle as well.
"[Where are you taking me?]"
> "[We will get Janus.]"
> That was a relief. Janus wouldn't agree to beat her. She'd already promised him that she'd pay him back, and he held Equestrians in some respect. Perhaps she could get out of the worst of it.
> "[Then we will go to Willow.]"
"[What?! Why?!]"
> Saule glanced back, never releasing her mane as she pulled her captive along through the camp. Already a few of the nomads were watching curiously, though most didn't much care about what looked like a private matter. Small mercies, Thistle thought.
> "[You stole the knife meant for Willow, so you really stole from Willow. He will punish you. That way I will know you haven't gotten off lightly. Janus will watch, because you stole from him too. That way the insult will be erased and all you will have to worry about is the price.]"
"[N-No! You can't! Not Willow!]"

>>42623776

> Her relationship with the hunter, if it could be called that, had gotten less angry over time, but it was still ice cold and there was no love lost between them. He would be happy with the opportunity to put her in her place, at least according to his own twisted sense of morality.
> There was no pulling away, and even if she did, Thistle still had to live with Salki and Saule. She thought about digging in her hooves, but something told her that would just make the punishment worse. Even if the woman was physically unable to drag her, she would figure out some painful and, above all, humiliating way to make her follow.
> It wouldn't be beyond Saule to have someone fetch a harness for a donkey, or a whip, or both.
> In no time they were at Janus' tent, and Saule was explaining the punishment. The blacksmith looked strangely at the mare, who desperately shook her head. She'd almost forgotten that Janus knew the truth and could reveal to Saule that it was, in fact, Rangi who'd stolen.
> At this point that would only spread the punishment to him. Saule would be even angrier that Thistle had lied to her.
> To her immense relief, Janus gave a little shrug and played along with the lie.
> "[We have already said this,]" he told Saule, "[Thistle pay for knife. She trade and pay. It alright, I make another knife. Willow will wait.]"
> The woman was shaking her head vehemently, repeating her spiel about insults and repayment.
> At long last, Janus spread his arms wide. "[Fine, do what you want with Thitsle. I not care. I get payment for knife from Thistle, don't care about beating. Do what you want.]"
> It was a little disappointing that he didn't put up more of a fight, but on the other hoof Thistle could understand him. Saule had become a harsher woman, much harder to get along with, since her marriage. It was difficult to believe that, too, was partly the mare's fault.
> All this over jealousy. As if there had been any chance Salki wouldn't marry her, regarless of whether he was sleeping with Thistle or not.
> If anything, the woman should thank her! No doubt some of those skills in bed she enjoyed from Salki had come from Thistle's patient tutoring!
> Except this wasn't the time or the place to have these thoughts, much less to bring it up. Saule was already dragging her away from Janus' forge and to the part of the camp Thistle considered 'Intor and Kantuta's territory'.
> Willow's tent was in that section, close to his mother's supporters.
> It didn't take long to find it, and on a morning after a large party none of the hunters had gone out, except for the bare minimum of scouts to watch for enemies. That was delegated to younger men, so Willow was still nice and snug in his tent.

>>42623783

> Saule didn't waste time and simply yanked the flap upward. "[Get out!]" she commanded briskly.
> The hunter did so, although not as quickly as he'd have jumped for his mother, or perhaps even for Salki. Saule didn't seem to notice as she pushed Thistle forward.
> "[What is going on?]" he asked.
> "[This one,]" saule said and slapped her palm on Thistle's rump, making the mare jump in surprise, "[stole from you. I want you to punish her!]"
> Willow gaped at the mare, then switched his stare to the woman. "[She what? No she didn't! Thistle was nowhere near my tent in many days!]"
> "[Not from your tent,]" Saule clarified. "[She stole from Janus and took the knife Janus had made for you. You paid for it already, yes?]"
> Still bewildered, Willow gave a short nod as he stared at the captive. "[Why would Thistle steal a knife?]"
> Rather than explaining, Salue gave Thistle's ribs a sharp kick. The message was clear, and the mare took a deep breath.
"[I- um, wanted it to- to trade for b-beer.]"
> She hadn't meant to act that meek, but the kick had really hurt and the embarrassment of even this pretend crime made her stare at her own hooves, ears splayed, and voice trembling.
> Willow began to laugh. Both females looked at him in shock as he waved his hand. "[This is too funny,]" he explained. "[The pony stole a knife and used it to get drunk. Ha ha ha!]"
> He crouched down and leaned closer to her. "[Was the beer good? Did you like getting drunk? Does your head hurt today?]"
> She didn't like his tone and glared daggers at him, but it only made the man chuckle some more.
> "[Answer!]" Saule hissed.
"[Yes. To all of it,]" Thistle growled through her teeth.
> To her utmost shock, Willow reached out and ruffled her mane. "[This is funny. I'm not going to beat her, Saule. You'll pay me back for my knife, won't you?]" That last was directed at Thistle.
> Shock, surprise, and relief made her unable to talk for a few seconds, until she shook her head and cleared her throat.
"[I will pay back Janus. He will make you another knife.]"
> "[Then that is settled. Go on now, I'm going back to sleep.]"
> It wasn't going down well with Saule. "[That's it?]" she demanded. "[This slave insults you by stealing from you, and you say it's fine? No, you *will* punish her, or I will do it myself!]"
> Thistle caught Willow's gaze and winced at him, flattening her ears as far as they would go.
> The man rolled his eyes, then sighed. "[Fine. Bring her here in the evening and I'll punish her. You're not going to watch, though.]"
> "[What?!]"
> "[This is between me and Thistle, right?]" Willow asked. At Saule's nod, he went on: "[So will the punishment. Don't worry, she won't get off lightly, and you'll be able to see how red her ass will be after, but you're not going to watch.]"

>>42623784

> The woman looked like she was about to spit, but she forced her face to calm and shrugged. "[Fine. As long as it gets done. You-]" her finger shot out at Thistle, "[you'll come here in the evening and accept her punishment. If you don't, I will shave all your fur and whip you until you're bloody everywhere on your body, understand?!]"
> It sounded a very creditable threat and Thistle swallowed a nervous lump as she nodded. After that, Saule stalked off.
> She glanced over at Willow.
"[Why? Why won't you let her watch? She hates me, so that was all she wanted. To see me suffer.]"
> Willow waved a dismissive hand. "[Don't worry, you're not getting off lightly. I just don't agree it's any of Saule's business. We'll settle this between us.]"
> She didn't like the implied threat in his words, and she knew he wasn't lying. The beating wouldn't be any lighter, and Willow hadn't suddenly gotten to like her, or became soft. He just had his own strange sense of honor and justice, one she didn't share, but he kept faithfully.
> In a small way Thistle guessed she could respect that.
"[Thank you. I will be here when the sun is setting,]" she promised and meant it.
> Willow simply gave her a nod, and she thought there might have been a sliver or respect there, too.
> It was a strange world, and a weird day. Her little tryst with Rangi would be paid dearly. Once again she wasn't sure whether it had been worth it.
> She'd have to make the young man pay her back, seriously. She didn't think he would refuse either. Given Saule's temper, he likely owed Thistle his life now. All she needed was to think up *how*.

>>42623787

I guess some good news and some bad? I figured I might as well sneak one last scene with a spanking into the green for no particular reason.

Paste: https://ponepaste.org/9738

>>42623791
>big update
Welcome back

>>42623791
That's a lot of green! Thanks friend!

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The indignity of it. The insult.
Stop chewing your wings, it's not healthy.

>>42623791
Extremely trash.

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The ball rolled under the couch again
Pony requires assistance!

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We need more ponified cat pics. That's like 98% of what this thread is.

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>>42624798
They show up from time to time, but it's not always obvious

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>>42624798
they are very silly horses

>>42625185
lol