It was late, later than Romt had thought. The journey from where he had met up with the caravan to getting to New Appleloosa took longer than the Hellhound expected. The caravan held general goods; Medicine, food, water, some ammunition and weaponry. It was ran by an old Earth Pony by the name of Brissletooth, along with his niece Cottonbottom. A hired stallion by the name of Pump-Action kept the goods safe, though, to him, there were more goods than just what was in the wagon. Behind the back of Brissletooth, Cottonbottom and Pump-Action were having a bit of an affair. It was only ever serious when they were in town and had time to be alone, and when on the road they tended to keep a low-profile on the matter as to not piss off Cottonbottom's uncle. As such, Romt was also oblivious to it. Not that he would care; Romance wasn't exactly his strong-suit, and he wouldn't have much of an opinion on it. That was their business, not his. All he could think of the group as of now was that Pump-Action was a half-decent shot, as he managed to hold his own against the raiders while also keeping his employers safe. And that Brissletooth was generous, albeit possibly just tactical on allowing Romt to travel with them to New Appleloosa. He hadn't conversed much with the young mare, not having much of an opinion on her. She seemed friendly enough, and very willing to assist Brissletooth with his caravan. It was nice to see family sticking close. Warmed Romt's heart somewhat, it did. 

Warmed heart aside, Romt was quiet as they approached New Appleloosa. He was simply ready to get there and do what he needed to do. Considering the time of night, he figured he'd have to wait a few hours before anypony started waking up. That wasn't too much trouble, as he could probably relax during that time. though there were no promises of that, as there could be trouble at anytime. Romt slowly shook his head, figuring that was why he was out here. To try and keep the troubles of the Wasteland a little more in line. It was difficult work, and sometimes seemed quite honestly hopeless. He was sure that for every problem he solved, there was twenty more he couldn't as he just wasn't there. Made it hard to keep at it, but the thoughts of the elders approving of his actions kept him from changing his ways.

Besides; what he did didn't only benefit those he aided. It made a better impression on ponies about his race, made them perhaps slightly more accepting of the hounds that were considered one of the biggest terrors of the wastes. Romt himself had met a fair amount of ponies that didn't trust him, and some who just drove him away out of fear. It still happened, though he'd gotten to know a few ponies across the wastes. He had ponies he could trade with, some with jobs that needed doing. He knew a pony in New Appleloosa that usually had a few jobs that required the help of somepony with a gun, and thankfully Romt commonly carried one around. The details were kind of sketchy at times though, he knew to be cautious with the jobs as they weren't all justifiable.

"Well, it's been a heck of a trip, but we're finally nearin' our destination." Brissletooth said, causing Romt to snap out of his thoughts and pay attention. "Finally, I feel like we've been trottin' for ages...!" Cottonbottom groaned, obviously tired. Her hooves were aching, and she was somewhat irritated that Brissletooth decided to go the whole way instead of resting. It was probably for the best, but didn't change how she currently felt. She nodded off every now and then as they continued forward.

Romt glanced over at Pump-Action as he let out a loud yawn, a smile crossing his face as his mouth closed. "About damn time, eh? I'm beat and need a drink." He grumbled, the blonde-maned pony looking in Romt's direction. "You drink, hound? I owe ya one for helping us out back there." His question crossed Romt's mind, and soon enough he nodded in response. He occasionally did drink, though never enough to leave him careless. Before he could speak up, Brissletooth did. "Heh, we all do. We might not have come out of that in one piece if you hadn't stepped in, son. Can't thank ya enough for what you did." 

Romt allowed a satisfied expression to cross his face, feeling good as he responded. "Not an issue. I'm happy I could offer my assistance." He said simply, before putting his attention back on Pump-Action. "I'm also happy you made that offer, because I certainly won't mind holding you to it." A grin crossed Pump-Action's face, and he let out a loud laugh. "Yeah! That's what I'm talkin' about! Our first destination is the bar then!" He cheered, and Brissletooth rolled his eyes, not commenting on the two, giving he would probably get a drink later as well. 

As they trotted past the guards sitting out as sentries to protect the town from raider attacks, Romt tipped his hat to one of them, though got nothing but a skeptical look back. He simply shrugged it off, not expecting anything else from them. It wasn't long after they entered the town that Pump-Action was ready to go, seeming to believe since they were in that the caravan would be fine. "I'll catch up with you two later, I'm goin' for a drink." He said quickly, beginning to trot off. Brissletooth didn't say much, seeming snickering to himself while Cottonbottom was barely even trotting. Romt stared with mild concern, unsure of her condition. "Is... She going to be alright?" He asked, and Brissletooth nodded. "She'll be fine, she's just not used to travelling for so long. You go ahead, we'll be fine." 

With those words, Romt nodded. Following after Pump-Action towards the bar. Once the hound caught up, the stallion looked up at him with a happy expression. "You ever been to Turnpike Tavern? Best Apple Whiskey around, dude. I love stopping here." He licked his lips, staring ahead. Romt nodded slowly, making sure to keep up with the pony who was very eager to reach the bar. "A few times. Certainly one of the better places to spend time at night." He replied, not having too much to say about the watering hole of New Appleloosa. He didn't exactly converse with those who were in the bar, he just sat there sipping away at his drink. The Bartender was alright, though. Romt shared a few words with the unicorn on a few occasions, though never on anything serious.

"Damn right. This place is fantastic, the best place around here. Not only good drinks, either. You can find some nice looking mares sometimes, too." Pump-Action coughed awkwardly after saying that, keeping focused on the path ahead of him. "Well, uh, that's not my concern. I've got a girl, y'know? Nopony better than her, heh." He closed that topic off as they approached the bar, gesturing at the entrance. "Well, less talk, more drinking, eh? Wash away our frustrations for a bit."

Romt wasn't going to argue with that. "Agreed." He replied plainly, following behind Pump-Action into the watering hole. For better, or worse.

---

It was, as expected, noisy inside the Turnpike Tavern. Romt eyed the ponyfolk seeming to be enjoying themselves; Groups were at tables chatting it up or gambling, some were right up at the bar, laughing or arguing with each-other, and occasionally across the floor you could see somepony passed out. It was a pathetic sight, but at the same time he couldn't help but be amused. As he followed Pump-Action to the bar, he noticed a few ponies looking his way. He didn't pay much attention to it, but noted it nonetheless. It's not like it was going to ruin his night. 

Sitting down, Romt glanced down at Pump-Action who decided to sit beside him. He was looking forward to getting a drink, the joyful expression on his face told Romt that. Though, as the bartender approached, Romt ended up getting distracted. Back behind the bar there were multiple little postings he could see. Some seemed to be trivial bullshit nopony would care about, though he could spot a few jobs.

[I]'Some of these sound like chores. Shoveling shit, cleaning house, hunting Radhogs... Pfft. Like I'd hunt Radhogs and give the bacon to somepony else. That stuff is just too delicious.'[/I] Romt licked his lips at the thought of some bacon, before shifting his eyes to look at the other posts. Nothing too interesting, sadly. Which was depressing. Though he couldn't expect too much out of the town, he figured they would at least have something interesting. 

His eyes shifted down to the counter as the bartender put his drink down. He nodded to the bartender, and cringed as Pump-Action, after putting the bits down for their drinks, grabbed his glass with his front hooves and drank the entire thing in one go, before slamming the glass onto the counter. "Aaaahh. That's the stuff." He was satisfied, though needed another. "Aaay! Another apple whiskey for me, huh?" He called out, snickering as the bartender gave him the stink-eye for how quick he was to ask for another. Pump-Action looked up at Romt. "So, you're one of those hounds guarding the caravan routes, huh?" 

Romt shook his head. "I travel, actually. I was just taking the caravan route since I was heading towards here." He explained, and Pump-Action simply laughed. "I see. I'm pretty damn lucky you decided to take the route, then. I might have had a few holes in me before we got here if you hadn't showed up." He admitted, the honest appreciation making Romt feel good. "Like I said earlier, I was happy to help." Romt said, taking a sip of his drink and not thinking much of the matter. 

Pump-Action raised an eyebrow, tossing some bits onto the counter as his drink arrived. "Damn, man. You just treat it like it's nothing, but... Not everypony would have tried to help us." He commented, taking a sip of his whiskey and causing Romt to look down at him for a moment, some silence cutting into the conversation. Romt thought of his response, before simply spouting out something simple. "I'm just used to it, I guess." Which was true, he usually had no issue jumping in to help a pony. Though it did prove difficult at times, he didn't mention it as he tended to usually handle a situation. More or less.

"So you just rescue ponies for a living? Sounds like something out of a comic book to me." Pump-Action responded, amused. Romt shrugged, before taking another sip of his apple whiskey. "Sadly helping ponies doesn't pay much. Have to do some work to keep my stomach full. Escorting, deliveries, bounty hunting."

"Shit." Pump-Action spouted out, seeming surprised. "I don't think I could put all that effort into work that didn't pay." He spoke honestly, though it wasn't the most positive thing to say. "I was testing the waters on the whole bounty hunting thing before I ended up with Brissletooth. Pretty crazy stuff, eventually became too much for me to handle."

Romt blinked. "Really? Sounds like you have a few stories to tell."

"Nah, nah. Not really." Pump-Action seemed flattered, but waved a hoof to dismiss the matter of stories. "Ain't ever done anything that interesting. Though maybe one day I'll have a pretty decent story to tell." He grinned. "We ought'a meet back up here once I've got one. We'll drink 'till we can't see strait and have a generally awesome night, huh?"

Romt nodded. "Sounds like a plan. I might have a few stories to tell myself."

"Awesome!" Pump-Action shouted, before downing the rest of his apple whiskey, wiping a hoof across his mouth afterwards. "I've gotta jet, though. Brissletooth tends to wake up early, so I gotta sleep when I can. Figure that whiskey might, eh... Help out a bit. Hehehe..." He stood up, beginning to trot off slowly. "Holdin' ya to that night of drinking though! We'll get totally wasted then, yeah? Like kings!"

As Pump-Action left, Romt simply stayed where he was. At least until he finished off his drink, deciding to head out as the place was too noisy for him. He stood, holding back a yawn as to not open his mouth too wide around these drunks. Or else they'd assume he was going to try and eat them. [I]'Should think about what I need to buy.'[/I] He thought to himself, slowly taking his leave of the bar. He wasn't exactly sure of where he was going, but he hoped wherever it was, it was more quiet.