The-Jaded-Bug

Welp, it should be noted that apps are reviewed officially once they're labeled as FINAL, and happen to find themselves on the bottom of the application form by a RP Helper. The most recently finished apps usually aren't immediately replied to, even by those who aren't Helpstaff and just happen to critique apps, unless there's a particular nitpick/obvious thing that needs to be adressed, and apps labeled as a WIP generally don't get responses intil labled as FINAL. As for anything I could say about your application in itself...well, I don't see anything that would become a problem once he's in the Mane RP, and Wild seems to be a fleshed-out character as it is from what I can read, and bonus points for being an atoner of sorts - 'tis refeshing, methinks. There are a few grammatical errors here in there - notably, it should be 'realization' rather than 'realisation' in the first paragraph of his character summary - though I'm getting technical, and these can likely be found/fixed by reading over your app a few times over/running it through a spellcheck, like in MS Word or creating a Google Document. Otherwise, good luck on your first application! Edit: Oh! And your picture of him is pretty dark on my screen, though I can still make out Wild's features. Either way, you seem like a pretty decent artist~

Aaaaaaaaand....'Tis final~

I've got Gale, my little jenny. She's a stubborn lil' a- </funwithpuns> And she has an older brother, but no app of him has been made....yet....

Grinning while Thorn wasn’t looking, Gale - at least at first - didn’t waste any time as she followed Honovi into that alleyway. After all, this was a chase scene. In the end, she still had to keep up, be one step ahead of the one being pursued... "Ow! Ow! Hot!" On the jenny’s face, a visible wince. While she hadn’t stopped running, Gale still managed to turn her head briefly towards the jack. Stopping that cart, to say the least, certainly seemed painful around his hooves, and the screech of his horseshoes didn’t help ease it. For a moment she felt, well, a little guilty. Sure, her intentions differed from Thorn’s - not that she would dare admit it, but if catching that calf was important to him, then maybe she shouldn’t have jeopardized their prospects.With a sigh of defeat, she bit her lip, slowing her trot just enough to let him catch up. With that, she caught him muttering something about his frustration with a certain someone. He seemed rather...well, she found it rather cute, seeing in annoyed, but shook the thought before turning towards him. “Like ya ‘adn’t beforehoof?” She commented wryly as she kept a quick gait. Not the best way to start a conversation. Well, especially after letting Honovi nearly get away, and at the jack’s expense, too. “Eee, sorry ‘bout back there!” Gale quickly added, making a brief glance at Thorn’s horseshoes before looking back at his face. She was surprised he wasn’t mad at her for saying in in the first place, but maybe he was just being polite. Either way, it didn’t seem to matter. The jenny tried to think of something more to say, but admittedly, small talk wasn’t quite her forte. Still, she had a few ideas in mind - not of small talk, but they were in an alleyway. Assuming there were a few more buildings next to each other, there might be a few more paths one could take, hmmm... “H-hay - ya think it’s possible t’ split up?” Gale lowered her voice, this time set on not allowing Honovi the benefit of overhearing her. It was the least she could do, right? “There might be ah few outlets ‘round th’ corner. If one of us takes another route, then maybe we’ll, say, innercept th’ hypotenuse? Jus’ ah suggestion...” She quickly gestured a hoof - there was a wall at the first end of the alley, but there were also two paths, one on the left, the other right. At this point, all three of them were starting to near it. Depending on how Thorn would comply with the possible plan, or even if he’d go with it at all, she knew full well that this could easily have an affect on how the chase went.

Cypress requested that I give Chotchkie a message is response...and that I write it down accordingly: "Um, seriously? I only go there for the free yarn! And 'horny-head'? Ya think I haven't heard that 'un in the last 2 or so decades? Kid, y'might think I'm trembling in fear right now, but I'm not. So cut the cranberries right now." Touche~ Thanks Scotchie! In regards to the question you present, it's mainly the latter, which I'll go into detail when I get her summary down.

Aye, thanks! I was about to look over for errors any the like like when I saw you post. I'm pretty sure I've fixed most of them as of yet - now to get the summary down, which will hopefully be done in a few days...

Roleplay Type: World of Equestria RP Name: Cypress Sex: Female Age: Young doe, roughly on the cusp of adulthood. Species: Peryton Eye colour: Light green [colour=#74C365](Mantis: #74C365)[/colour] Coat/Mane/Markings & colours: Main body is a pastel gray[colour=#000000] [/colour][colour=#CFCFC4](#CFCFC4)[/colour][colour=#000000].[/colour] She has a slightly darker, ash gray underbelly/neck with a matching, short tuft of hair - well, even shorter than most peryton locks, at least [colour=#B2BEB5](#B2BEB5)[/colour][colour=#000000].[/colour] Physique: Towering compared to the norm, though most ponies would still be a little less than an inch taller than her. Contains a well-built, rather buff torso paired with toned and stocky legs. Wings aside, her frame to an extent resembles that of a [colour=#1155CC]migratory woodland caribou[/colour][colour=#000000] [/colour]and thus, as females of said species have them, bears a set of prominent slate gray antlers [colour=#708090](#708090)[/colour][colour=#000000].[/colour] To her irritation, said antlers and her solid appearance in the past have caused peryton and other creatures alike to mistake and make fun of her for looking like a stag, and still do from time to time. 　 Cutie Mark: N/A Origin/Residence: Born in Whitetale Woods, though these days she has the tendency to travel anywhere - well, as long as it's remote and there aren't too many creature-built structures; Solstice Heights, the greenery and lush thickets of Nimbusgait Lakes, she has even gone as far as the Everfree Forest. Though a nomad she is, she's never ventured into any populous place larger than the village of Garden Gait, as towns and cities alike tend to make her apprehensive at best. Occupation: In her own words: [colour=#708090]"I live off the land, I guess...um, does being a nature guide count? I mean, I'm not paid or anything, or whatever ya call it. Never got why ponies labor over these 'bits' they keep talkin' about. They're shiny, sure, but what the heck am I s'possed to do with 'em, string a bunch together and decorate a pine tree? They're just a bunch of useless trinkets, to be honest."[/colour] In reality: Though she may feel inclined to help a deserving lost traveler, she really doesn't have a paying job by Equestrian standards, and is a little bit...erm, dense when it comes to the constructs of civilization. Still, she's particularly skilled in weaving - baskets and nests that is, though ever since she came across a ball of yarn, needles, and some flimsy white sheet covered in strange black symbols in the Everfree (likely dropped by a lost, unlucky pony), she's been (very) slowly figuring out how to use them, having heard that one could make scarves out of such utensils (a rather useless accessory to her, but they sure do look neat!). Motivation: 'Tis not of utmost priority, but a small part of her wants to know the meaning behind those markings on that sheet! Though unbeknownst to Cypress, they're instructions on how to knit ...what? Would you be particularly literate whilst living in the woods all your life? She also wants to gain the courage to at least visit one town, without having a panic attack due to the hustle and bustle of a populous place...otherwise, she just wants to live a balanced life, use in moderation what the land offers, nothing too extravagant. Likes: Leafy greens, the smell of the wood and open fields after a rainstorm, the tree she’s named after, testing her survival skills whilst popping up in the Everfree, pine needle tea (build a small fire, gather pond water with a makeshift kettle to boil, get pine needles to put in the kettle to let it settle...), finding pony-made trinkets while exploring, and borrowing yarn when she sees some laying about a nearby, vacant building - which is technically stealing, but the concept of owning so many things and living in a large, claustrophobic box with a tent-like roof has always been strange to her, so... Dislikes: The idea of roaming about big cities and towns, as much as a part of he wants to get over it. Being around a significant amount of sentient beings, particularly if they aren't other peryton, will generally make her uncomfortable and rather fidgety, and loud noises are anything but reassuring. Also, rudely mistaking her for a buck - if it's an honest, unassuming blunder, then she'll usually be forgiving, but if you're going to be a stubborn prick in the nose about it, then let's just say you'll be the last living thing she'll pay notice to when you wind up in a pickle. Character Summary: Like that of many peryton, Cypress spent her early years in Whitetail Woods - or at least, deeper within it than most ponies would dare to roam. Because of this, she was previously (though unintentionally) sheltered from the world beyond the rocks, soil and greenery surrounding her, though what knowledge she's gained of ponies since her fawnhood has been limited to the occasional, accidental stumblings upon quiet villages and houses about the countryside. In fact, before she branched away from the wood, the only reason she had known about ponies in the first place was due to taking involvement in Winter Wrap-Up. As of how? For starters, it can first be said that it’s part of the reason she realized a particular talent of hers, one that still remains up to this day. Her father, Redwood, was especially agile, helping him stay unseen whilst darting through the forest, using the shadows to hide his slight frame...to say the least, other than inheriting his keen green eyes, she didn't quite get her looks from dad. As for her mother, Sequoia, she had always been quite the gatherer, and before Cypress was born, the two of them held a special tradition of theirs; With both of their strengths combined, they'd make nests the night before the event and, while nopony was looking, they would set them by the edge of the forest, where ponies would easily see them the next day and nestle them high within the trees for birds returning from the south. Not wanting to deny their daughter of giving ponies a helping hoof, their daring little fawn also took part it, her mum having taught her the basics of weaving. Even now, Cypress still takes part in her parents' tradition still, even though it's executed a ways away from their den. Gaining a knack for it, she was often found testing her skills outside of said pony-related event. Once she got accustomed to her own brand of peryton magic, she even managed to surpass her mother's efficiency in her weaves; Unlike Sequoia, Cypress's talent revolved around manipulating thin, sturdy branches and fine/string-like materials such as rope and tall grasses, being able to tie, wrap, and - you guessed it - weave them accordingly. It wasn't the type of full-blown telekinesis that unicorns have, however. In fact, levitating anything heavier that such materials, as she figured, is still a rather strenuous task as best, and it turned out she had to have her materials together in one spot (rather than having them scattered) in order to even use more than one at a time. On occasion, she may use this talent as a means to rustle and sway a few branches while staying out of site from ponies, either to attract their attention towards the right path, or - if in the Everfree - to give them a voiceless reminder that there's a reason why some places are better left unexplored. As for the rest of her early years and then some, Cypress wasn't the most sociable fawn in the wood. She'd have rather stuck around her parents than bother with others her age and, when they weren't trying to set her up on playdates, she often spent her time alone, either practicing her weaves or would just explore the forest. When she started growing antlers, it became safe to say that making friends was not only the least of her priorities, but it also became much, much harder to attain them in the first place. She didn't merely gain the petite, aesthetically pleasing little stumps that some doe would eventually get, but two strong, thick, hankering branches began to adorn her head. This often lead to merciless taunts, insults and name calling from peryton her age, even when her parents weren't making her socialize, and at best would often cause younglings and the full-grown alike to have....*ahem*....interesting reactions once she opened her mouth to speak, if only upon first encounter. When it became time for her mum and dad to integrate Cypress into Whitetail - aka, prepare/ween her into living on her own - it didn't take much effort on their part. By the time she entered that stage between fawn and doehood, while she still cared for her parents dearly, past experiences with bullies from her own kind was enough to convince her that she really, really didn't care for them setting up yet another so-called 'playdate' on her behalf. Still though, while she was successful when it came to moving out of her family's den - she was the self-reliant type after all - the jeers and ridiculing from others just wouldn't stop. It wasn't long after she left her parents' dwelling when she decided that, well, maybe she should stray farther from her home in Whitetail. There was no use in staying someplace where she was unwanted - and at a time where she was starting to discover who she was, this seemed to be, unfortunately, the very case she was in. It was still a hard decision to make, since she didn't know much about the outside wood, but when push came to shove, it was more than worth it. Over time, and particularly as of now, Cypress has grown a bit more world-savvy - well, emphasis on a bit, as most of what she's learned has had to do with the flora and nature-bound fauna within anyplace surrounded by the colours green and brown - and mind you, that isn't exactly referring to a paint job. She hasn't quite found a particular dwelling since she left, but she's grown fond of the traveler's lifestyle and, quite frankly, she doesn't plan to settle down anytime soon. While she's spent quite the while 'roaming the land' as some would say, Cypress is still a bit lacking in the friend department. However, this isn't always due to being followed by past treatment: Though a shrinking violet she's not, Cypress isn't the approachable type at first glance, often basing her perception of someone, whether good or bad, on first impressions, and can be a bit stubborn when it comes to changing her mind. She also, when helping others, prefers not being seen or caught in the act, though what she makes up in bulk has made her not quite as agile as some peryton, yet not to a debilitating extent. All in all, she's a practical, down-to-earth doe whose knowledge of nature is especially competent, but may still have a ways to go in a few...er, other areas.

“Thanks!” The jenny grinned at Thorn. “Hard work does plenny well, I guess...” Admittedly, even outside of the farm back around Nimbusgait Lakes, that barrel wasn’t the only container she’d ever bucked swiftly with her hind legs. In fact, inanimate objects weren’t the only things she’d ever kicked...not that she’d admit it, at least as of now. She still wanted to make a good impression on the townsfolks, even if she didn’t mind getting a little dirt on her hooves. She continued on with the chase, keeping up a fast pace with the occasional sprint, before she blinked at the sight of the jack about the train’s platform. Glancing quickly at Honovi, something came to mind; couldn’t the calf easily trot away from the station? Sure he was catching up with her...and the buffalo...but if the latter had any common sense, he’d likely canter off into another direction entirely, thus wasting time by getting away from the train station. Gale was about to facehoof at the situation - she didn’t care too much about capturing anyone, yes, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t tell that the other donkey’s attempt at showing off would cause a some sort of setback... And then it came to mind. More time stalled meant for a longer chase.Trying to keep up, the jenny opened her muzzle, resisting another smirk. “Er, y’ realize he’ll jus’ run away from the train, right?” She queried Thorn in a matter-of-fact voice, a hint of annoyance layered within it for added effect. She didn’t care if Honovi overheard her - in fact, that was the point. She did want him to hear it. She wasn’t purposely trying to help him out, or trying to appear innocently overheard, though she’d hope for the latter to be assumed. She just wanted a good chase, and a good chase was prone to a few bumps in the road. ((OOC: Eee, sorry for the late reply! On another note, happy 4th of July! Or for those who don't celebrate it (celeBRAYte?), er, have a post?))

More updates! And this time, it isn't an OC drawing! Oh, and if you're sitting a leeeetle more near your right, then Miss Chrysalis is eyeing Allura you.

[colour=#000000][colour=#000000]Roleplay Type: [/colour][/colour][colour=#000000][colour=#000000]World of Equestria RP[/colour][/colour] Name: Quetzal Coltail Sex: Male Age: Young stallion Species: Pegasus Eye colour: Jasper [colour=#CD3333](#CD3333)[/colour] Coat colour: Dartmouth green[colour=#00703C] (#00703C)[/colour] Mane/Tail/Markings colour & Style: Blue near the roots, with blond layering the rest ([colour=#4169E1]#4169E1[/colour], [colour=#FBEC5D]Maize: #FBEC5D[/colour]). His mane is styled in a floppy mohawk with dreadlocks parted in random, windswept segments. He has a medium-length tail that matches his partially matted mane. The locks in question are strung with beads of various colours and shapes, and possibly even a feather or two. Physique: Average height, and has a lean/athletic build. He’s a pegasus built for flight as well as a pony with nimble hooves. Cutie Mark: A fluffy feather that is half red and half blue, with a single golden bead threaded at the end of its quill. Origin/Residence: Gallopocus Islands Occupation: A jeweler as well as a part-time bird caretaker. A seemingly odd set of jobs, but being particularly innovative, Quetzal prides himself in the fact that both occupations seem to benefit from each other; He makes enough bits from his merchant sales to tend to his feathery friends in need, and he incorporates the feathers they have into the pieces he makes (often when they molt, or when he gets proper permission from them, of course!). Motivation: His compassion and special connection with birds, as well as conforming to the family business – making/selling traditional and authentic jewelry, a long-standing practice and craft perfected by his native born family within a certain archipelago. Likes: Birds, potential materials for his wares (especially exotic feathers), feel-good music, having a good time when he’s not working, and being within proximity of a pretty mare and the occasional handsome stallion…oh, he has a thing for griffons and hippogriffs as well. Dislikes: Wing injuries, the dull and straight-laced, broken glass beads, and bad singing. Said dislikes grow significantly stronger if they somehow involve annoying/rude tourists. Character Summary: Being born as a pegasus in a family otherwise made up of earth ponies, Quetzal had gotten his name due to three factors: His hair and coat colour matched the tropical bird he was named after, ‘coltail’ came from her mother Coral Coltail, and Resplendence, his father, had always had a liking for the archaic languages that had been used by ancient civilizations that had inhabited the Gallopocus – ‘quetzal’ meant ‘feathered’, and it fit right in with his wing-bearing status amongst his flightless parents. But how his name became something of an embodiment of his special talent? It’s strangely commonplace when it come to most ponies, but a Cutie Mark story you shall receive. Quetzal had a relatively happy foalhood. Though he was sometimes teased since he took interest in making jewelry – or ‘filly things’ as the colts at school would say – his intuitive charm and carefree attitude was enough for him to become a popular face among others his age. He was able to learn, for the most part, about not letting others’ opinions of him diminish his self-esteem, particularly through his mother: “What others think of you isn’t always a reflection of who you are” was what she’d say. The green pegasus took those words to heart, and they remain with him even to this day. While he didn’t exactly care about finding his special talent at an early age, the green Pegasus had the feeling, prior to earning his Cutie Mark, that something was missing. He enjoyed following in his family’s footsteps – even though they would have been fine either way if he didn’t – but even then, he wasn’t too sure if being just a jeweler was the one thing he wanted to do in life. It was only during the beginning of his colt years when he began to connect the dots. One rainy day, within the normally sunny island chain, Quetzal was following his father as they were leaving Corralwood Corral earlier than usual, having closed the stand where he would assist Resplendence in selling their trinkets and jewelry to natives and tourists alike. On the colt’s way home, he noticed a small hummingbird, a striking little flyer with iridescent teal feathers. It wasn’t airborne however, as he almost stepped on it before hearing it call out with a fast yet piecing chirp! Startled by the sound, Quetzal stepped back before looking down at it; the bird tried to fly, but its wings were flapping slower than usual for a bird auch as itself. In fact, one of the wings weren’t even moving in rapid sync with the other. The pegasus, oddly enough, could almost sense that the bird’s calls were that of pain. While he didn’t know why at the time, having not given thought about the feathery creatures before, he instinctively knew that something definitely wasn’t right with the little bird. With a pang of empathy, Quetzal tried to calm it down with gentle reassurances, and gathered a leaf from a nearby palm tree in order to shield the poor bird from the rain. Within less than a minute or two, the hummingbird started to relax before finally managing to settle down. When the colt’s father took note of this, the two of them agreed to take the hummingbird home and nurse it back to health. Such a task quickly proved to be a challenge, however, as it became apparent that providing it with food – nectar and small insects – was easier said than done. Between the bird’s failed attempts at flying again while trying to remove the bandage and wing-sized splinter for its fracture, it would refuse to eat, and even Quetzal, while he had an easier time dealing with the creature than his parents, wasn’t prepared with dealing with its stubborn attitude. As much as the colt wanted to care for the bird, he and his parents both knew that they couldn’t provide for it for long. It was decided that the hummingbird would stay at a bird sanctuary. It seemed only fair, and the place wasn’t too far aof distance from their home. Wanting to watch over the bird still, the green Pegasus would use some of his free time everyday to visit the establishment. As time passed by, however, the injured flyer wasn’t the only reason Quetzal made his visits. He started to notice how the other birds would, almost literally, flock to him, and how he could handle them just as well as those who had worked there for years on end...well, almost! The employees and volunteers there helped and watched over the young colt from time to time, and he eventually became a skilled regular at the sanctuary as well. One the day when the hummingbird was deemed to be completely healed, the most peculiar thing had happened: When Quetzal arrived, a few of the sanctuary's inhabitants – and the healed bird in question – presented him with good hoof-full of beautiful, gleaming, tropical feathers! When it suddenly dawned to him that he could use them as jewelry-related adornments, it didn’t take long for a certain symbol to show up on his flanks. While it took him a bit to realize what it meant, it became clear as time went by - the blue and red on each side of the feather represented a duality, the red being his family profession, and the blue, since a particular type of animal was usually linked with the sky, his newfound affinity for the birds. The golden bead threaded at the end of the quill was what held them together because, if you had ever heard of the term ‘heart of gold’, then you would know that his heart was in both of these interests. As for now, he still works at the sanctuary from time-to-time, and may be seen on the lookout for birds in need of care, bringing them there if his own provisions at home are not enough for their needs. During his time off, while he still keeps a watchful eye for the for birds in need, he'll usually be out and about, not afraid to mingle with anypony or one he meets along the way - and with that in mind, his carefree, playful demeanor can be pretty off putting for some, and both his confidence and flirtatious streak can give the impression that he’s nothing but a cocky, voluptuous tease. Still though, a more stubborn pony will be slow to realize there’s something deeper than what is seen at first glance, and that his dedication and care for his life’s pursuits can also extend towards those who give him the benefit of the doubt. Like looking after an injured bird, it may take a bit to get to know him in full, just as it takes time to mend a broken wing. ((Note: 'Tis nothing of importance, but my headcanon imagines him as sounding like Bruno Campos, otherwise known as the voice of Prince Naveen from The Princess and the Frog. Fillies and gentlecolts, you now have the right to swoon.))

Another introduction, and even more hat-tipping at her dispense. Since the first ponies she met in town had only been there temporarily, she had to wonder if everyone - outlaws included - happened to be this polite in Appleloosa. She bit her lip, forming a scowl while resisting the urge to make a light, incoming chuckle at the buffalo’s antics, though she didn’t know why or where it was coming from. ‘Wha’ do they think I am? One ah th’ Princesses?’ She was not about to let petty emotions get in her way, no siree! “Kinda hard to think of ah cause, when yer livin’ offa soft drinks.” Gale muttered back, her voice edging on deadpan. She then turned to Thorn, a part of her amused by the jack and bull before her: Both were charming, or at least seemed to be, but Thorn appeared pretty straight-laced, while Honovi was, well, roguish. When the thief took his leave, the jenny nodded as she took off with the dapper donkey, flashing him a wink as they began the chase. A small glance of confusion could be seen on her face when she saw Thorn grab that canteen from somepony’s house, but it occurred to her that maybe he had an idea in mind, and of course, that buffalo was running away with root beer... Catching up briskly, Gale grinned as the jack continued with the chase. “Quick thinkin’ there!” She turned her head quickly at him, then put her focus on keeping up with Honovi. She nimbly dodged an empty barrel that suddenly lay her way, bucking it with her hind hooves as it was knocked over, tumbling away from the three. By now she was matching the other donkey’s speed, and even seemed to surpass it at that! If there were any quirks to being small, then a few inches shorter meant a few less pounds to carry, and that in itself meant a quicker pace on her part. Feeling particularly daring, she decided that a little bit of taunting was well overdue. “HAY, Two-horns! Ya think you c’n ou’run us!?” A wicked, daring little smirk.The jenny sped up even more, and passed Thorn with a few more pounding trots. Maybe she came out harsher than she initially thought, but the heat of the moment wasn’t exactly welcoming her with a dose of common courtesy.

Because no one can get enough of dem dragons, I finally went through with drawing my character Patches~ For those of you wondering, I've pretty much prescribed to a particular system when it comes to greed and size: A dragon can grow faster if they let their hoarding instincts overwhelm them in a short amount of time (abnormal growth)...HOWEVER, without letting their greed consume every aspect of who they are, they can still grow to be just as large, but it takes much longer for them to do so (normal growth). If Patches were a pony that lived as many years as he has so far, then he'd (roughly) be that of an elderly stallion. But as far as dragons go? He's a 'teen', but pinning a number on him that would indicate his maturity level would be pretty hard, to be honest. Pretending that the dragon above is on his fours (which he usually is, but I decided to go for him standing for now), he is a few inches shorter than two mares tall, (via measuring from the ground to the highest tip of his head-scales). colours and 'patches' aside, I took a few liberties that both kept as well as deviated away from Cat Napper's sketch of him, not denying that said sketch is a good 'un in its own right. Oh, and among many other phobias of his, he's acrophobic. The fact that his wings are kinda huge doesn't lessen this one bit, to say the least...

In a way, it definitely does. The wisteria flower/tree is accociated with love - or at least, some of the negative aspects of it. Its vines it creates represents how people may because 'entangled' in its hardships, or tend to cling or obsess over it. It also represents unrequited love, yet at the same time its vines also represent the ability to florish in spite of such hardships, because of their durability. In other words, you could say that Wisteria Bloom is a bit of a kid-friendly hopeless romantic of sorts, one that's learning how to find and handle her limits. I'm working with other aspect of the flower's symbolism while also branching out from it (pun not intended).

Gale blinked as the young buffalo came up to her and the house, cocking an eye at his rather...well, muffled statement. “H-huh?” If he was trying to talk to her, then holding that case of rootbeer certainly wasn’t helping him to start up an intelligent conversation. Maybe it it didn’t matter though, considering how brash he was...not that the jenny herself wasn’t guilty of that, but that was beside the point. Rolling her eyes, she then came face-to-face with the other donkey - or Thorn, as he introduced himself. She noted to herself that, to say the least, that he certainly didn’t sound like a farmjack, but maybe it wasn’t her place to judge. She might have to ask where he came from at some point, but now wasn’t the time. “Er, Gale.” She answered back, albeit awkwardly. It had been a while since she’d been around anypony, or anyone, who seemed roughly her age, buffalo, donkey or otherwise, though she wasn’t much better around foals and adults. Her eyes lit up with the mention of potentially chasing the bull in question - she didn’t care much about being a hero or catching thieves, but with a notable exception in mind, this seemed to be the most interesting thing to potentially happen to and around her since she arrived. “Can’t say ‘e has, but I wouldn’ mind joinin’ in on ah good chase.” The jenny smirked, innocently shuffling a front hoof at her own proposal. If either of them were to tell her it was between the two of them, then she’d join in anyways. Being who she was, there was no way in Tartarus she’d miss the opportunity to appease any amount of boredom she might have had.

Another day, another afternoon that would have gone to waste - that is, if Gale honestly planned on staying about her and her brother’s new home whilst one of few breaks he’d offer, considering how much they've worked on restoring it already. The process was slow-going, but at least some progress was starting to weigh in, and she took the initiative to explore the town some more...and there wasn’t a soul of interest within it. She couldn't blame them really, with how most ponies don’t fare well with the afternoon heat, but still! ''..'Ey! Anypony, or anybody 'dere?'' The little jenny perked an ear, blinking a little at the sudden holler. She didn’t know many ponies who’d actually say anybody, and when it did happen, it was just somepony trying a little too hard to act polite around someone who wasn’t a foal and lacked a cutie mark...or actually, was it even a pony who said it? Gale tiphooved a ways away from the house, peeking her head around a street corner before seeing him - a younger buffalo, a smallish one, though she was still plenty shorter. She didn’t dare answer him first, and instead pulled her head back, wondering if he’d decide to go her way. Maybe if she waited he’d come over, and then she could catch him off guard, maybe even ask what the hay he was doing with those carts... ...then another voice chimed in. Presumably farther off, likely by the opposite corner. “Rootbeer? Really?” He muttered loudly, wondering why in Tartarus a buffalo would take a crate full of soft drinks. “Atleas’ take something that won’ leave ya with a sugar rush in th’ middle ah th’ desert! Like, say, water er somethin’!” the sorrel donkey took a sharp turn around the corner, finally facing the roguish young bull and...wait, another donkey!? And Gale thought that she and her brother were the only ones in town! The jenny blinked in surprise at the young jack opposite of her. He seemed about her age, maybe a bit older, though that was probably because of how much shorter she was than most donkeys her age. She made a quick ‘ahem’ before maintaining her annoyed glare at the castoff before her. She wasn't here for casual greetings, but was one of two was dealing with a thief, and one with a poor sense of practicality at that, right?