The other soldiers snapped a salute, but let their legs fall flaccid once they made out who we were. I winced when I realized who we had the misfortune of running into. The pegasus in charge, Stepping Stone, hated my guts. He and his earth pony friend, Lucky Shot, were in a contest to see who could make my life more unbearable. Their third member I didn’t recognize—a short, white unicorn with wide eyes and plenty of baby fat still left on her. Her armor was crooked and dingy, even for having been dragged through a swamp for the past four hours. I could barely make out her cutie mark through the grime—a brown rope tied in a neat knot. Stepping Stone rolled his eyes and snickered at his lug-head partner.