Chonico

Clay let out a sigh of relief as his hoof finally became liberated from the bow-tie. He could finally bow properly and quickly did so and then stood back up as the mare responsible for his freedom asked him he if wanted his bow-tie back on. Hesitantly he rubbed his neck as he blushed while looking at the unicorn, considering the question and the fact she had been giggling and blushing lightly at him the whole time. He was about to answer when she introduced herself to Princess Luna, Clay having completely missed the question. Picking up the queue from MelodySpark's introduction, he cleared his throat and turned to look at Princess Luna. "And I am Nimbus Clayton your highness." Clay chose to go with his actual name as opposed to his Nimbus "Claypot" nickname. "I too enjoy your nights Princess Luna." He said with a smile. "I am a humble potter and keep an open air workshop out in the Saddlevail Plains, just for the sake of enjoying the night sky." Clay could feel himself becoming slightly rigid and could do little to stop it being that he was in the presence of royalty, something he did not expect. He kept on smiling and turned to look at Melody. "It is also a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Miss MelodySparks." Clay took the mare's hoof and placed a small peck on it as he re-introduced himself. "Nimbus Claypot, at your service and in your debt for saving me." He said letting out a small laugh.

I worked, doing the most vital job I can think of... Selling video games to teens and and adults. Oddly enough we sold through our stock of Call of Duty Black Ops. Either people want to get on the multi-player and shoot each other or just want to get pumped for Modern Warfare 3.

'Why yes, this is the latest fashion. It's called the *hurk*' Clay was quick to pick up on the joke and tilted his head to the side while he slightly stuck his tongue out and tugged gently on his bow-tied hoof. 'You start off by taking one of these deadly contraptions and tie it around your neck while wearing a tuxedo, and then try to fix the length of the bows and...' Clay wiggled the tip of his tied hoof to signal the end result. Taking one quick look at the mare's beautifully styled dress he changed his slightly joking expression to that of a bright smile. 'Perhaps you could lend me a hoof. Maybe a pair of scissors or…' throwing another quick glance at the dress, 'perhaps a sharp note?' He said with a jokingly smile on his face. As he stood there smiling at the mare, his attention no longer set on his immediate predicament but on the beautifully dressed pony in front of him, he nearly didn't hear the soft greeting from the dark blue mare. As he turned around to see who the soft voice belonged to, his first immediate reaction was to bow as he recognized the dark blue mare that approached them. Unfortunately for him, his bow turned out to be more of an awkward frontal plop as he tried to keep his balance with his wings extended slightly to the side and his hoof tied to his neck. 'Wow, two great first impressions in under a few minutes, good going Clay.' He commented to himself perhaps a bit louder than he had hoped.

Clay honestly never thought he'd have use for his old tuxedo again, a simple black tux with a seemingly longer set of tails than would be average that dangled off his haunch and nearly dragged on the floor. A bowtie was a customary piece of the tux, but he could never get it on himself correctly so one loop always turned out bigger than the other. 'Give me a lump of mud and I'll make a spectacular vase. But give me a bowtie and I'll probably end up strangling myself with it trying to put it on…' He whispered to himself as he made his way into the gardens fiddling with the bowtie. His artisan teacher never attended such events, so he figured once he became a potter he would be excused from such events and would not need to learn how to properly tie it. It was not that he did not like such big parties, he loved getting the chance to meet new ponies but Clay simply didn't like the formalities that came with it. As he fiddled with the bowtie, he couldn't help but notice it becoming tighter around his neck. 'Uh oh… By Celestia! I was joking about the strangling part, gah!' Clay sat down, as his wings began to flap as if mimicking the erratic behavior of his hoof as he tried to undo his bowtie. He managed to loosen it just enough for it to be more of a major discomfort, rather than choking, and let out a sigh of relief. 'That would have been embarrassing, imagine if I…' His self dialog was cut short as he tried to stand up again he nearly fell on his face, soon realized he had managed to tie one of his hoofs to his neck. 'Well, this turned out swell…' A light ting of irritation crept into his voice as he quickly began to scan the garden for a reflective surface. Spotting the pond not too far off, he unfurled his wings and quickly flew towards the side of it. He hovered a little bit over the edge, but soon realizing he couldn't make out the mess around his neck too clearly and land next to the pond's edge. Keeping his wings still extended as he tried to balance himself on three hoofs while he looked closer at his tied hoof in the reflective surface of the pond, his eyes began to scan the surface and he noticed a figure that was moving away from the pond further into the gardens. 'Excuse me, Miss?'

Still smiling brightly at Miss Vintage from her compliment about his vase, Clay quickly lost track of what keys he had tried with which of the 7 padlocks he had set aside in hopes of finding a key for. Quickly looking down at his unfortunate mess of mixed up keys thanks to his lack of attention, he was suddenly reminded of the time when he had begun traveling with his teacher and his daughter, when he was still a young colt. While at an outdoor art festival in Hoofington, he dug too deep into a pot he had on a spinning wheel and cut right through it, destroying it, when an on looking pony praised one of his finished vases. This caused his teacher to smack him on the top of his head as he repeat the ever so familiar phrase 'Don't be so eager to receive compliments for your work. Everything has a time and place, so pay attention.' This was usually followed by his daughter sticking out her tongue at him, and him sticking his out in return, a reflex that even now took hold. As he reflexively stuck his tongue out at the air, he was snapped back to the present as Miss Vintage asked him about his commissions. Tongue still sticking out, he quickly looked at her and smiled as he pulled it back into his mouth. *ahem* 'Yes, I do take commissions although most of my buyers already know my style and are usually ecstatic with what I bring into town.' He threw a quick glance at his satchel as it sat on the floor near Miss Vintage. 'I come into towns like Fillydelphia and Ponyville about 2 or 3 times a week depending on the weather and how far I feel like flying. Used to come only once a month to get supplies, but now that I have enough wares to sell on a bigger scale, I can afford the energy to fly here more often.' Clay smiled in relief as he unfurled his wings a bit to stretch them and gently tucked them back into his sides. 'Actually, I love a challenge, so if you have one for me, I am more than happy to do it at a discount for my friends. In fact…' Clay put down the padlock and key he was currently testing on the floor and stood up and walked around to his satchel and sat back down next to it. Sticking his nose inside it, he began to gently sift through the vases and pots he had rolled up in newspapers, trying to find a specific one. A few seconds passed by and eventually, 'Ah ha, this is the right one I think.' He pulled his head out and unraveled a rather small, but long necked pitcher that was buried deep down in his satchel. The overall design of it was similar to that of a pocket watch's outside casing. The handle was made to look like a linked chain that wrapped around the better top half of the neck and then lazily draped over the side in an arc and connected to the bottom part of the pitcher. The mouth of the neck had a small round ball atop it, made to look like the link where the chain connected to the watch. And, the bottom half of the pitcher had a countryside scene etched into it that wrapped entirely around it. The scene was that of ponies working old tools and in funny hats while working an apple orchid. As for the finishing glaze on it, it was one he had made himself and had applied lightly to give it an old, slightly tarnished look to it. Holding the pitcher in his hoofs he looked at Miss Vintage and with a bright smile on his face began to show it off. 'This was supposed to be a commission, but the pony that requested it didn't like it…' He said with a slight tinge of insult in his voice. 'Still, I believe it to be one of my better pieces, so, shame if he had actually taken it… Might have stuffed it in a closet by now if he had.' Clay looked at the pitcher in his hoofs and then looked at Miss Vintage as he cocked his head to the side a bit with a curious look. 'Odd how things work out, but!' He extended his hoofs out and with a renewed smile on his face kept addressing the antiquing pony. 'Welcome to Fillydelphia Miss Vintage! Hope you stick around for a while, we could use more locksmithing shops around here.' Clay offered the gift to Miss Vintage as he made a slight joke of how he ended up at such a curious shop. 'Oh, and this isn't just because your cutie mark is a pocket watch, that was just an interesting happenstance.'

Klondike could not help but let out a shallow chuckle and a smile as Mr. Freewings mentioned his satchel's metallic jingles as being 'his' music. He himself had grown to consider the seemingly chaotic jingles as his own theme music, more akin to a worker's marching chant. A sort of chorus of eager workers voicing out their purpose in as a distinguishable a voice as his own and Mr. Freewings' voice, eager to get to their destination and begin to work. It was something that he had learned to listen to from always carrying his jingling tools wherever he went. But, to have another pony refer to it as such, when most could only hear the seemingly unorganized banging of chaos, well, that was a first for him. As Mr. Freewings stopped to take out his harmonica and the holder, his curiosity began to peek and he was tempted to ask if he could take a quick look at the instruments. However, fearing he might be more tempted to take them apart and see how they were put together once they were in his hoofs, he thought better not to ask, and simply smiled when Mr. Freewings requested he keep walking with him. Admittedly, it was a bit hard not to alter his gait, or for that matter not become clumsy with his gait. Since Mr. Freewings mentioned how his jingle played to the beat of his hoofs, it was hard not to become self-conscious of his form and hoof steps now. Yet, as Mr. Freewings' instrument began to add its own voice to the chorus of metallic jingles, Klondike's right ear could do no more than twitch frantically as it tried to recognize the new sound and, soon enough, his left ear joined in to help. None the less what he heard consciously, while his ears did the subconscious searching, did more than just put a smile on his face but caused a curious grin to form across his face as well. Quickly changing his gait a bit, he began to take bigger and longer steps, shorter and shallower steps, steps to the right, steps to the left and back. A small dance or better yet, a small jig had begun to form as Klondike's own tool chorus changed their voices a bit with each different step and mingled with the chorus of Mr. Freewings' harmonica. Night strolling ponies on the street, as well as those peering out their windows could do little more than look curiously as the two pony parade made its way down the street.

The smell inside Sugar Blooms took Clay completely off guard. The air was filled with a plethora of sweet, almost warm smells, the like of which could only be found at a pastry store with some of the finest freshly baked goods. Subconsciously, Clay brought up his hoof to his mouth, trying to make sure he wasn't drooling. 'Everything looks and smells so good!' He thought to himself, 'Remember Clay, true you didn't have breakfast, but don't let your eyes get too big for your stomach.' So engrossed was he in his task of scanning the store, trying to take in every smell and delectable, that he nearly didn't hear the filly welcoming him into the store. With a quick jerk of his head and perked ears, snapping out of his internal debate, he observed and listened as the filly trotted around the counter. 'A Clydesdale at a pastry store?' Clay cocked his head to the side a little as the thought came to mind. 'Interesting, reminds me of what my teacher said about a bull in a china shop but…' With a quick look around the pastry store, Clay looked back at the filly with a somewhat questioning look. 'She is either very talented and a fellow artisan, or she didn't make these and why are you judging, she just said she finished the morning special, you shouldn't judge dummy, you know better than… *growl* ' His stomach suddenly reminded him of his purpose and left those final run-on thoughts ringing in his mind. With a smile on his face, he approached the filly that welcomed him into the shop. 'Hi! I missed breakfast and *growl*' Clay blushed a little as his stomach made an even louder protest than he would have preferred. Tightening his wings closer to his sides, in an attempt to perhaps muffle any further noises, he cleared his throat and this time around grinned ashamedly as he raised a hoof to the back of his head and addressed the filly again. 'Everything in your store looks delicious. Don't suppose you offer samples?'

I'd be interested in this. Been trying to figure out how to write my OCs to the Gala. Kind of agree though, would help to know where they are coming from.

I think the ones I watched most as a child, and I mean repeatedly, had to be: -"An American Tale" and I think the second one was called "An American Tale; Fivel Goes West" -"All Dogs go to Heaven" (The second one too, but I like the first one better) -"The Land Before Time" (Man, I always cried when Little Foot's Mother died >< ) -"We're Back" (That one with the dinosaurs and a museum) -"Who Framed Roger Rabbit" (This counts, right?) And Um... -"The Great Mouse Detective" (... Sherlock Holmes as a mouse. I think this is what it was called.) As for the Iron Giant, I have two parts; the one when they go to the lake and the giant does the canon ball and when he's flying off to destroy the rocket. I like the lake scene because the face on Dean as he hid behind the newspaper to try block the giant tsunami was priceless. The last scene, well, it just tugged at my heart strings the way he flew up there wanting to be like superman ><

If a butterfly flapping its wings causes a hurricane on the other side of the earth?... By Celestia! How many lives have I been responsible for every time I sneeze?! Also, did you know that in Japanese, "baka" means "idiot" but in Spanish it means "cow." Does that mean that across continents, its understood that cows aren't too bright? I never understood the math question of "If John has 12 apples and gives 3 to Billy, how many does he have left?" Who cares how many he has left! What I want to know is who walks around with 12 apples? Could you eat 12 apples in one sitting? Why is he giving them away? Are they sour and he's just trying to pull a fast one on Billy?... Hm, This is probably why I failed math >_>

Tell you what mate, if you find a way to Equestria and Ponyville, I'll carry you there myself XD

Hm, this sounds interesting. I was wondering why I got a golden ticket XD I only have two to choose from but one of them is already in two other RPs, so I guess Klondike gets to go to the Gala and rub elbows with all the pretty party ponies. Count me in, but I have yet to do an RP that involves more than two people. How does the posting work o.o?

Interesting, I wouldn't mind trying my hoof at voice acting, or even writing. I'll check it out first chance I get =D

Howdy everypony! I here by challenge you all, my fellow bronies, to come up with a "What if" scenario. Now, let me lay the ground rules, its very simple. 1- First off, it has to be something silly, funny, odd, cute, basically something down right "lol" worthy. It doesn't have to be anything serious or thought provoking, I think we do that enough on our own. 2- Creativity counts and so does originality. If its something you've thought of before and want to share, by all means go for it. 3- Try to end your "what if" scenario with, "Wouldn't that be (blank)?" 4- MLP related totally counts, as long as it adheres to the first rule. 5- Adhere to forum rules. No need to bring down the heavy iron hoof of righteousness upon ourselves. 6- Have fun with it. That's basically it! I'll get the ball rolling in case some ponies don't know what is meant by a "what if" scenario =D So, basically for what ever reason when I woke up today, the first thing that came to mind was... "What if kiwi birds were as common as pigeons?" Cities like New York or Chicago would have to deal with marauding herds of kiwi birds aside from pigeon pooping all over the place. The parks would be over run by the small brown fuzzy birds and small children feeding the pigeons would not only have to deal with over friendly pigeons, but chicken sized wingless kiwis as well. Wouldn't that be funny? XD

Actually, since I graduated, I now find myself with more free time than is "healthy." As such, I have begun to work on my Gundam MLP themed model collection >_> (I regret nothing!). I'm also working on my video game back log. If this keeps up, I might have to take up jogging >_< Oh well... Who else has plans?

I may be able to go to this. Granted its in the north part of Arizona, but the Grand Canyon is along the way. Well, at least according to my geographical understanding. I could knock two birds with one stone, see the Grand Canyon and go to my first MLP related thingy. Hmm...

Haven't been able to get on the ponycraft server, keeps failing to connect. But I did manage to get on the Mylittleminecraft one. So, if its more epic than mylittleminecraft, my head just might explode if and when I manage to log onto it.

Well I'll be... I didn't know there were any anime conventions in AZ. Seems like its a small one. Hmm, interesting... The trivia thing sounds like a good idea.

'My name is Nimbus Claypot, Miss Vintage. But, you can call me Clay, for short.' Clay addressed the antiquing pony with a slight bow of his head and a bright smile on his face as he became relieved that his walk down memory lane hadn't been too awkward. Taking the box from Vintage, Clay gingerly placed it on the floor in front of him as he began to scan the contents. 'I wouldn't worry too much about having to point me in the right direction, you already have. I already see some padlocks in here that I'd be more than glad to have adorning my workshop.' He announced in a cheerful voice as he began to pick-up a few of the padlocks from the box and turned them around in his hoof. 'If the keys match, it's even better!' And with that, his hoof disappeared deeper into the box. As he continued looking through the box of padlocks and keys, his ears twitched left to right, as if mimicking his thoughts as he decided which padlocks to set aside so that he could find a key for. 'Am I in the trade as well?' His face expressing a bit of confusion as his head slightly tilted to the side. 'I'm surprised you have not heard of me yet, Miss Vintage.' Clay stood up and smiled at Vintage as he raised his wings a bit and puffed out his chest. 'I… am Clay, The Clay Hermit' A puff of dust became clearly visible as he patted himself with his hoof on his chest. 'Well, that's what the ponies in town call me anyways.' He kind of cringed a bit as he realized he had just introduced himself as being a hermit. 'Heh… I am a potter and I have a workshop out in the Saddleveil Plains. But I'm not a hermit, I just hardly ever get any visitors out there.' Suddenly realizing why Vintage had glanced at him earlier, he began to undo the strap on his satchel and quickly placed it on the floor, careful not to let it drop suddenly. He then turned his body to the side to show off his flank and, raising his wing so as to not cover his cutie mark, placed a hoof on his satchel and smiled. 'I came from Cloudsdale, and my goal is to one day make beautiful ceramic pieces that don't fall through the clouds.' And no sooner had he said this, his hoof lifted the satchel's flap to make the contents visible. Small and intricate pots and vases were clearly visible. Some had intricate glazes on them were more simplistic but with beautiful detailing. 'A trade? While I look at your beautiful antiques, you can look at my ceramic pieces. If you are not too busy that is.' Clay was more than happy to answer questions about his work, especially when he was meeting new ponies. And, if there was one thing he enjoyed more than his work, even if his teacher had scolded him plenty of times for it, it was hearing praise for it.

As Mr. Freewings and Klondike shook hoofs, Klondike was surprised to learn he had only been in town for about a year. He seemed more well traveled than most ponies he'd run across on his trip from Hoofington to Ponyville, or any of the travelers he saw while growing up in Hoofington, so he guessed it made sense. Hearing however that his keys were likely to still be waiting for him in the morning, he could not help but let out a *sigh* as he slightly reassured himself that he still had his new studio to live in. And, upon hearing that not many ponies in Ponyville were punctual, Klondike simply smiled as he thought to himself how his own talent for getting lost and distracted in his work would just fit right in with the pace of the town. With an onset of metallic jingles from his satchel, Klondike began to walk along with Mr. Freewings as they set onward to what he hoped was the inn district of Ponyville. Careful not to walk to fast, keeping mind of his company and trying to remember the way so that he could come back in the morning and speak with the shopkeeper whose sign he had fixed, Klondike began to ponder the question that was just posed to him. 'Hmm, I guess…' He stopped for a second as he raised his hoof to his chin and tapped it lightly. 'You could call it my calling, and all of the above.' He began to walk again alongside Mr. Freewings. 'My aim is to open up my own repair shop here in Ponyville. I even decided on a name for it, 'The Jingling Satchel Repair Shop' were you can get anything from loose buttons to broken carriages repaired.' He said with glee in his voice as he began to imagine the different sorts of things that a town like Ponyville would need repaired. 'I've been learning how to fix things since I was a colt. In fact, I started around the same time I got my tools.' As he said so, Klondike looked back at his satchel, making sure the handle of the hammer was still visible ensuring him it hadn't fallen out from under the satchel's flap. With a quick stomp from his hoof, not too hard but just enough, he caused the metallic jingle to sound more clearly. *twing ting* 'I know my tools like I know my own hoof, what you heard just now was the socket wrench hitting the small saw and the screwdriver being hit by another wrench.' He said with a smile on his face as his right ear slightly twitched. As they kept walking, Klondike kept announcing what tools made the metallic jingles that accompanied them, his right ear slightly twitching in unison with the sound and his answers, unaware that he was becoming absorbed in the game. Another quick stomp from his hoof and... *ping jingle* 'That was the L-Keys chiming in unison with some loose change.' Klondike's face suddenly changed to that of surprised realization and he looked over at Mr. Freewings. 'Sorry, I'm not trying to show off, at least not on purpose.' He grinned a bit as he tried to remember the last question he was supposed to be answering. 'But yes, it's a nice call to heed, at least for me it is.'

As Clay sat on the floor, watching the pony in front of him, he could not help but notice that her ears drooped. 'Maybe I said something odd?' He questioned himself as he listen to her explain what her store was about. As she talked, he looked around the store, suddenly everything making sense. The clothing on the racks didn't seem to be of the latest fashion, although admittedly he wasn't the best judge of that. The books as well showed signs of their age, some well kept and some having seen better days. And the trinkets that lingered around the shop waiting to be picked up, some he had to admit he had never seen before. As he kept looking around the store, a sudden realization dawned on him as the dusty pink haired pony asked him what he wanted the padlock for. Snapping out of his train of thought, he watched as the antiquing pony made her way to the windowsill, only barely noticing her throwing a quick glance at him. Trying to figure out what she glanced at, he began to think he might have sat on something so he stood up and began to make his way to the windowsill as well. 'I'm hoping to replace the lock on the storage room for my workshop.' Clay stopped for a second as his eyes did a quick scan around the shop. 'But, I realize I was misled by that kind pony outside who told me this was a locksmith's store.' He said with a somewhat embarrassed smile on his face. 'I don't think I've been in many antique stores and I have to admit you have a rather interesting selection of items here.' Recalling what he was thinking of a second ago, he kept making his way towards the windowsill and stopped right behind the pony. 'Sorry…' Clay had a slight drooping to his own ears now, but kept a slight smile on his face. 'You have such a noble ideal towards these items that adorn your store, and here comes a silly pony completely missing the point of what your store is and asking if you are a locksmith.' He said letting out a shallow chuckle. Placing one hoof to his chin and quickly put on a welcoming smile , Clay sat once again on the floor. 'An old friend and teacher of mine used to say that things are made to last generations. Whether it is clothing, art, literature, or simple household knick-knacks, it is all unique in its own way. Even if a pot looks like another pot, it is not the same. The hoofs that make it are as different as the ponies who make them and the ideas and emotions that go into making them. When something is broken, lost, or thrown away, then all that is lost with it. You can remake a pot, you can re-write a book, but it will not be the same. Treasure your masterpieces as well as your mistakes because within it lays a piece of you that can, and will, last generations to come.' Clay finished with a huge smile on his face that quickly gave way to a slight show of embarrassment as he realized that he was no longer sitting, but had stood up on his hind legs and extended a hoof up towards the ceiling as if pointing at something. Ashamed that he got caught up in memories of the past he quickly sat back down and lightly scratched the floor with his hoof. 'Hehe, my teacher was a potter and was somewhat odd, but insightful. I still have to keep relearning everything he thought me…" He commented as he rolled his eyes. "So umm, you need help with that box Miss…?'

That, is impressive! I have always wanted to find one but never have. Guess I'm not lucky, lol. I do however have a talent for loosing things >_>; I swear it seems like they grow feet sometimes and wonder off just to annoy me. I am rather good at learning manual things though, guess that counts for something. Still, that is pretty impressive. What do you do with them? Do you collect them?

As Clay walked further into the store, looking around at the trinkets, books, and clothing that adorned the shelves and racks, he could not help but wonder what kind of store this was. 'Maybe the nice pony outside mistook this store for a different kind of store. Maybe…' His train of thought was interrupted as he heard some stumbling noises coming from the back room. He turned his head to see a pink haired pony chirpily welcoming him into the store, as she exited the back room. "Perfect, she must be the store owner.' He thought to himself as he let out a smile as soon as the pink hair pony asked him how she could be of help. 'Hi! I'm looking for a locksmith, or a place that sell locks and keys, and you have a tad bit of dust on the top of your mane.' Clay raised his hoof over his own mane and made a circle motion on top to mimic the area he was referring to. Then, extending one of his wings began to make a swiping arcing motion, as if showcasing the whole store, all the while as he kept making the circle motion with his hoof a top his head and continued to address the pony in front of him, 'Although, looking at your beautiful store, I can't help but think I've been pointed in the wrong direction…' He paused for a second realizing that he might look a bit silly doing both motions at the same time and stopped. 'But umm… Yes, you have a lot of interesting looking things here. What kind of store is this? Clay lowered his haunches a bit and sat on the floor, careful not to rattle his satchel too much, and looked at the dusty pink haired pony expectantly.

Hello fellow bronies! To all bronies that graduated from University or High School (Like I just did! WOO-HOO!)... CONGRATULATIONS!! If you haven't yet or are going to soon, hang in there!

Klondike could not help but let out a big grin upon hearing that there would be plenty of things to fix in town. Perhaps his idea to come to Ponyville wasn't so bad at all, and the promise of having plenty of things to take apart and fix suddenly put him in better spirits. 'I did manage to set up a studio for me to rent and the keys were ready for me today. Except…' Klondike's gaze shifted towards his satchel which lay on the crate next to him, flap open, remembering how it was his lack of attention and his guessing game that caused him to be late. 'I was supposed to be here early to pick up the keys, but I got umm… sidetracked.' He said as he scratched the back of his head with his hoof. Klondike could not help but be somewhat confused about the Mister Clownbike comments. And, watching the satin black pony burst out laughing as he questioned Mister Clownbike's business plan only made him even more curious as to what was so funny. 'I obviously missed something, no surprise there.' He mumbled to himself as the pony in front of him repositioned himself on his hind quarters. For a second he swore he saw a grimace of pain in the pony's face, but if he was making an effort to hide it, then Klondike would respect it. Still, at the suggestion of helping him in finding an inn, Klondike could do little more than agree with a wholehearted nod as he stepped down from the crate. Looking at his satchel, he suddenly remembered his hammer strap still needed fixing. 'Hmm, I'll have to fix you once we are at the inn.' He addressed his satchel while picking up the brush and putting it away. First the brush, then the oil can, and finally the book with the hoof-drawn map neatly folded inside. He would thank whoever drew it properly the next morning when he went to City Hall, but for now, as the night breeze began to blow a chilly wind to remind him of his predicament, he was more than glad to walk with Mr. Freewings as he lead him to an inn. Quickly grabbing his satchel and tightening it onto his back, he grabbed the hammer in his mouth and began to gently nudge it under the flap of his satchel, hoping it would be balanced enough to not slip out while walking.'You are being kind enough to show me to an Inn. The least I can do is chat with you without a tool in my mouth.' And just like that, Klondike extended one hoof and with a smile on his face re-introduced himself. 'Hi, again, I'm Klondike but most just call me K.' Satisfied believing this is what Mr. Freewings meant by 'start over,' and as he threw a sideward's glance at the now silent hanging sign he continued, 'So I take it you've been in Ponyville for quite some time?'