((hi hi I wrote this for the December Writefriend.)) The road from BeakBreak City was cold and it was hard. What started out as a twisting, winding path between tall, treacherous cliffs on one side and the unfathomable depths of the Everfree Forest on the other had flattened out into a wide, snow covered highway once it reached the wide open plains. Her ears were cold, her nose was cold, and yet she was sweating from exertion. Rally was trudging south now, the detour around Gor Zarya's humbl
(I wrote this for the September 2011 writefriend. With apologies to my friend who's fabulous blues song inspired me) It was a dark and stormy night. Well, not so much dark and stormy, really more twilight and cloudy. Oh, and it was morning too. In fact, scratch that, let me start over. I was sitting in the corner of a lightly murmuring coffee shop, gently plucking my guitar on a morning scarcely different from any other. Ponies came and went, occasionally tossing a few bits in my jar along
