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  1. Flitwink Flitwink trotted quietly through the hospital. It was a quiet day, not much was happening today other than a veterinary appointment much later in the afternoon. He sighed and trotted casually through the halls. It was strange, not having his hot-headed daughter fluttering around, busying herself with bugging the elderly ponies in the hospital rooms. His clinic was fairly large, standing two stories, and expanding nearly half the city block it was on, and employed a wide range of nurse and a couple more doctor ponies. It's second floor and half of the first were stictly dedicated to pony care, though the odd griffon or even an out of place hippocamp was not uncommon--both inpatient and out, and a small wing on the lower level was dedicated to veterinary care--his own personal wing, really, as he was the only doctor here who specialized in both pony and non-pony care. It had largely expanded from the small split-level shop he and his wife had started with, but it still retained an air of...quaintness...to it. The air was warm, the nurses and staff were friendly, and even on the busiest days, smiles were always exchanged between friends. Everyone was always rather cheerful. Flit sighed as he trotted into the small room between pony and animal care that served as his office. A stack of papers were on his deck, with a note from one of the staff nurse ponies. 'We need more help! Here's the best of them.' He groaned inwardly as he saw the stack of applications before him. He had the smallest fragment of hope that maybe some sort of emergency would stumble in...or even a foal with a cold...something...
  2. As the light of the sun broke over the horizon of the Nimbusgait Lakes, a light orange kelpie ghosted across the surface of the great lakes. His very lightly striped shark tail propelled him forward, transporting him to his destination of the day. It had been rather difficult to negotiate awakening from himself that morning, making the kelpie still rather groggy. Luckily for him, few creatures were out on the lake this early in the day. It was rather unlikely for him to collide with anything in the waters. He enjoyed the quiet at times, but he much preferred it when the air was filled with laughter. After all, he had devoted his life's work to such a pursuit. As he approached the edge of the lake, the sun began to climb higher in the skies. Hopefully, he would find a customer on this day. Business had been rather slow lately, as the majority of ponies who lived in the vicinity of Nimbusgait were water-based like himself. However, the stallion had a good feeling about today. His hunches were not to be relied upon too devoutly, but he could be right once in a while. Taking a deep breath, he dove down into the waters of the lake once more, locating the wooden trapdoor that led to the inside of his little shop. Opening it with a hoof and slipping inside, she followed the wooden tunnel to its end on that surface of the lakes. His shop was built at the very edge of the lake, with the counter space being the only area that was above the water. The counter was more of an enclosure of water, allowing the kelpie to serve his customers as well as stay in the lovely waters. He placed his hooves on the wooden panels that made up the counter, tail moving back and forth lazily to keep him afloat. He pulled on a nearby string, causing the sign outside to change from Closed to Open. The other string that he held was the activator for a simple and effective, if rather juvenile prank. A bucket of lakewater hung precariously above the entrance to the shop, with the string attached to the board which held it aloft. He waited with a smile, eager to discover who would be walking into his shop today.
  3. At Cross-Stitch's tailor shop... Cross-Stitch opened he doors to his shop with a light nudge. The door swung open and revealed the bustling city scene that was Canterlot to him. Noise poured into the shop, as well as the light from Celestia's bright sun. Cross-Stitch stood for a while, admiring the city scene before him. He always enjoyed his life here in Canterlot, and he always enjoyed the hustle and bustle of the city every morning when he opened up shop. Many ponies were out and about on this morning, going about their business, opening stalls, taking their filly's to class, and even stopping to chat with one another. Cross-Stitch could only smile as he turned from the scene before him to finish preparing his shop. He brought out some of his latest suits to put on display in the front window to attract customers. Cross-Stitch stood for a second to examine his latest works. With a hoof to his chin, and scrutinizing eyes, he went over every detail in the suit. He nodded with a smile at his work an trotted off, eager to finish setting up shop. One of Cross-Stitch's favorite parts of running a store, wasn't actually the sales, but was instead getting to meet new ponies. After setting out his final suit for display, he turned to examine the shop. He let out a low 'Hmm' as his over-examining eyes went over the shop again and again. A wide smile spread across his face as he nodded again in satisfaction. He personally deemed the shop ready to open. As he trotted to the "Closed" sign to flip it around, he caught a glimpse of himself in a mirror. "Oh my, I almost forgot the most important thing to prepare: Myself!" Cross-Stitch said with a light giggle. He trotted up the stairs of his shop to his living quarters. Upstairs was a wreck compared to the shop downstairs, but it was the way Cross-Stitch liked it. Fabric was strewn out everywhere, a table was cluttered with needles and spools, walls were decorated with design ideas, and Cross-Stitch loved it. His mind felt free to wander up here, and wander it did. After a quick bath, and some grooming of his mane, Cross-Stitch finally deemed himself ready to present to the public. He trotted back downstairs to the "Closed" sign outside of his shop, "I hereby pronounce 'The Perfect Fit,' open!" said Cross-Stitch as he turned the sign to display 'Open.'
  4. Rarity hummed one of her favorite dressmaking songs just under her breath as she walked into the front show room of Carousel Boutique early one morning. She had nothing planned with her friends that day. No, that day was to be dedicated solely to her job. As much fun as Twilight and the other always were, Rarity was in need of many days like this that she could devote to the Boutique. Thanks to a fair amount of recent good press, orders just kept flying in after all. There was never any shortage of work to do! To be honest, it was a little daunting keeping track of it all. It was lucky that Rarity genuinely loved her job. Nothing was more enjoyable and rewarding for her than seeing a dress come together and watching a customer leave with a smile on her face. She didn't always get the luxury of the latter now that a lot more orders were coming in from out of town, but the satisfaction of a job well done was still so rewarding, that even as the work piled up, Rarity couldn't be more delighted with it all. That said, recently, with all the expansion of her business, Rarity had at least entertained the notion of maybe hiring help at some point. Even if she genuinely adored every aspect of running the Boutique, that might not continue to be realistic. She went over to the counter where she had her current dress orders. She glanced at the top order. It was for a couple dresses for a wealthy Stalliongrad business mare. Rarity was surprised to find her name was known that far away. Maybe it shouldn't have surprised her too much though. She had been invited to participate in the quickly approaching Ponywalk this year, after all. She smiled. She could still remember how it was when she first started and had only three or four regular customers, all Ponyville locals. She had really come far. Speaking of locals, it hit Rarity then: she needed to open up the shop. Even if she had plenty of dresses to design already, it was important to always have the shop be open to whoever wanted to come in and either buy a dress off the rack or place an order. Sapphire Shores had been a casual unannounced walk in after all. That decided, she rushed to the door and unlocked it and stepped outside for a moment. [colour=#663399]"Carousel Boutique, now open for business!" [/colour]she started out loud while smiling to herself, satisfied, before going back inside. She then went to her work bench and started to plan the Stalliongrad mare's dress while she waited to see who her first customer might be New rules and procedure for thread, as of 24 September, 2012:
  5. OOC- PATHFINDER She raced through the sky, the clouds seemingly parting ways for the pegasus in motion. She made no claim to the titleholder of fastest in her class or most skilled flyer, but few could match her manic and determined sprint through the skies. Few times in her life could she even remember this type of relentless beating being delivered unto the skies by her relatively small wings. Then again, had any event so deeply disturbed her, so cut to her core? She reasoned that the answer was no and that the haste that had made home in her breast was the appropriate response. She soared high to save time and when it was appropriate, she dove to increase her speed. There in front of her lay the small city of Ponyville, a town with recognition that far outstripped its real, pertinent value. Normally, it would have been a nice, somewhat notable place to lay her head down for a night and then seek out adventure until the grateful townspeople tossed bits her way and pointed to another worthy location. This day, however, it was her destination, every beat of her harried heart and every stroke of her frantic wings honed to the purpose of arriving in Ponyville as swiftly as she could. She spotted what appeared to be the town hall, the area around it clean and open for a while before bridges and buildings took their positions. Ponies milled about, discussing Celestia knows what. It didn't matter; Pathfinder had her landing zone. She pulled up briefly to get into position as she flew over the town, then angled herself towards the open portion. She rocketed towards the ground, slowing down just before impact. It didn't really work as her hooves had a hard time keeping up her landing speed and after nearly tripping she launched herself back into the air, gliding in order to slow down. She landed with some speed and her gallop was somewhat unrestrained as she came to a screeching stop less than a foot from the side of some building. She took a breath and gave a deep smile. That had been one heck of a landing! It hadn't worked and it had nearly ended with her head-first into a building, but nothing ever came easy for an adventurer, whether that was Daring Do or Pathfinder. That was why she loved Daring Do soooo much- they had so much in common! High adventure! Action! Excitement! Treasure! Her friends, foolish as they were, would claim it was more life imitating art than art imitating life, but she would have none of it! She had always seen herself this way and those who said otherwise were sticking their snouts where they didn't belong. Her seemingly earnest and honest devotion and love to Daring Do and her exciting adventures had been an important part of her marehood, and the midnight releases, the Luna Hour Release as it was widely known, of her favorite series were filled with more honest excitement and love than any of the Hearts Warming Eve celebrations she was dragged to. Who needed to hear about Hearths Warming Eve when Daring Do was freakin' base jumping into a volcano to escape from crazy land sharks?! Not Pathfinder! And as both a fan-club president and lover of the series, the midnight releases were near religious experiences for her. Always first in line, signed limited editions lined up and paid for, spoilers ruthlessly ignored and spoilerees trampled underhoof. On that day of the release, as the ponies waited for their wares, she always felt special, happy, and loved to be amongst so many other fans. And now that love had turned to anger. Anger! ANGER! Somepony had snuck into a bookstore in Ponyville and stolen- outright stolen- a signed limited edition copy of the newest Daring Do novel, Daring Do and the Mystery of the Manehattan Minute, that was meant for Ponyville's Daring Do fanclub president. If this vile, thieving Pony started spoiling the novel for others, it would be a disaster. This was the mist anticipated release in the series for quite a while, as the author had made the decision to have her traverse the urban jungle of Equestria's largest city in place of some exotic locale. No one knew what to expect, and this thief may very well ruin it for everyone! Not to mention she wanted to read it first. It irked her that the author had stopped sending passages from future works to the fan club. Had her critiques of the author's characters angered him? She certainly wished not. Any true artist demanded critique and she knew he was a true, beloved artist. No matter! Someone had broken the law, broken that code by which all fans lived, and probably broken the spirit of the fan club president in the area. Dastardly deeds called for a heroic response, and Pathfinder was willing to deliver. She would recover the book, capture the thief, and restore the shattered spirit of the local president. She would be a hero- for Daring Do! The backwash from the speed of her landing finally hit her, ruffling some feathers and jostling her tightly strung, officially licensed and privately modified Daring Do hat. She turned to a Pony not far from her. "Ponyvillian, where is your book store, and where is the Daring Do fan club president?" She asked, confidence and aggressiveness dripping from her every word.
  6. ((This is a continuation of "Bobbing for Fun" during the Harvest Spooktacular event.)) http://www.canterlot.com/topic/3720-bobbing-for-fun-open-to-all/ Applejack blushed too. She hadn't expected any romantic displays to come from such a childish party game, but as long as they were having fun, she didn't really mind. However, she knew that Snails probably thought it was pretty gross--if he wasn't too oblivious to notice, that is. "Good job, Snails! You can pick a candy apple of your choice too!" Still, talking to Snails, Applejack gestured towards Martini, "But wait for Mr.- uh, I mean, Mrs. Capony to pick hers first." With a heavy wink, Applejack assumed that two ponies with this much love to share could only be engaged with one another. Applejack then wondered if they had ever planned on having the wedding in Ponyville, and if they did, if her newly refurbished barn and the large rustic yard that surrounds it would be a suitable for a couple ponies who seem to have a little adventurous tastes. For the moment, though, Applejack kept the thought to herself.
  7. Neon Stargazer nearly cantered out of the small kitchen that took up about a quarter of his family's Manehatten apartment. He had just finished unpacking the last of his belongings and had been forced to endure both a gruelling first day at school and an agonizingly slow dinner. He was almost vibrating with excitement, unable to contain both his apprehension and his joy. For tonight was the night that Nighthoof, Defender of the Weak, would be revealed to all of Manehatten under the shadow of Luna's wonderful night. Nighthoof hadn't had much of a job to do in the peaceful city of Filydelphia, where Neon and his family used to live. But, here in Manehatten, he would become the scourge of the scary, the bane of the bad, the terror of the terrible, and the defeater of the dastardly! However, a quick look at the pile of papers on his bedside table reminded Neon that even the colt moonlighting as a totally awesome superhero had to get their work done. This is so...not awesome, Neon thought with a bored sigh. If I don't do it though, my dad will totally ground me. Ugh, why can't Nighthoof be the destroyer of homework too? As Neon managed to finish his schoolwork, the moon started to reach the peak of its nightly arc. It's now or never, let's do this! Running over to his closet, Neon fished around for the box that contained his superhero costume. He hid it near the back so that nopony could find it, even if they did manage to brave the horror of his closet. Triumphantly, he withdrew a black cape, eye mask, and a uniform that covered the entirety of his yellow body – complete with a fake cutie mark that matched his eyewear. He put on the dark costume quickly, leaving the whites of his chocolate brown eyes as the only source of illumination. Once he'd finished tying a knot on his cape so that it lay correctly upon his shoulders, he jumped atop the botton of the windowpane. With one last look at his room, Nighthoof slipped out the window of the apartment and out onto the roof of Manehatten. The colt superhero only had one thing on his mind: Let's find some ponies to save!
  8. OOC- -Valen Orange- http://www.canterlot...n-orange-final/ "It is just for a month, son. It will be fun." What was fun about being sent from your home? "The Apples are a fine family, very...err, strong morals. I am absolutely sure you will find it a pleasant experience." Nuh-uh, this is just wrong! "Besides, one of them is an Element. She is a hero, and how can you say no to that?" Quite easily, as it were. "The decision has been made, son." And Valen had known that since the very start of the conversation. Oh, he knew his parents loved him and he loved them with equal fervor. But he often questioned their mindset, wondered if their lifestyles amongst the cream of the Manehattian crop had made them sickly, deluded and insane. Under what mind was sending a foal away from home to some distant, remote farm, away from friends and a comfortable environment, the proper course of action? A sick one. He sighed. He knew what they had said made some sense. He hadn't really ever thought about it, but he hadn't exactly prospered in that megatropolis. The family business had little to no grasp on him. He didn't want to be some bean counter and holding large formal parties so he could pry into somepony's pocket, socialization in the name of business. He also had no desire to be sent to some farm somewhere to oversee the day to day business of orange production. That would have been dull, and since he was never a pony to hide his thoughts, they had manifested themselves quite clearly. Naps when his father tried to teach him about corporate accounting. Daydreaming when his mother tried to teach him about the finer points of oranges. He was focused more on the nice dresses worn by those elegant mares during those large formal sessions that he was in attempting to hawk his family's wares. Never a liability but never an advantage, his lack of interest was one thing that was more apparent than any other facet that his parents could see. They weren't blind to his nature, but rather acutely biased in their perceptions, business and history playing illuminating factors in their every judgement. But in spite of their bias, they did know some things. They knew he was what the Pegasi of old might call a 'weak foal', though they knew his strength of character was not questioned. He disdained physical labor, though he often kept those thoughts to himself and did what he was told. His appearance was kept impeccably maintained and manicured femininely, and his circle of friends(the few he had) were universally similar. He was smart but never focused on his studies, his eyes moving at the speed of his mouth as he gabbed and gabbed and gabbed and- his parents got the picture. They had their opinions on him, their worries about their unusual colt foal. These worries manifested themselves uniquely in different types of ponies. Some would sit there and allow their worries to consume them. Others would attempt to hammer the foal into a certain mold. Valen's parents hadn't done either thing, deciding that the proper, responsible thing was to send their little foal on a little trip to their cousins. Why not the Oranges? Even to Valen, the reasoning seemed weak.There had always been a disconnect between those who lived in the big cities and ran the family business in a corporate sense and the majority who toiled to fulfill the promises of the big wigs. It hadn't created a sense of hate or loathing, but relations could be cold at time. His parents had been worried that the Oranges wouldn't...well, the worry wasn't that he would be mistreated, but that they would use him for some sort of family politicking. It didn't make any sense to Valen that families would fight amongst each other, but such was the case it seemed. Even then, why the Apples? The Oranges didn't necessarily look down at them, but well, their business was ran from a farm by a bunch of farm ponies while the Oranges lived in the lofty heights of Upper Crust. Plus, from everything Valen had been told, oranges were patently superior to apples. But they respected the fact that the Apples were universally hardworking, loyal to the family, helpful, and kind. Plus, one of them was an Element and after the ceremony in Canterlot after their defeat of Discord, they all had a measure of fame that, perhaps, they knew not of. They never played games and at Sweet Apple Acres, they did both the business of business and the work that went into it. Perhaps he would find himself there- and at the very least, it would probably toughen him up and get him more organized. It was- -Valen's head smacked into the front of the seat in front of him, sharply waking him from his sleep as his head staggered back. The train had come to a stop and for reasons explainable only to Celestia, he had been launched forward. Quite rude and little more than annoying, he stood up in the soon-to-be crowded aisle in the train. He sighed. He wished he had been given a room of his own, but the only ticket available had been in...uggh...coach. It wasn't that he was rude, but the other ponies sure did smell. Did all train ponies smell like this? Valen sure hoped not. He had been forced to endure a crazy stallion that had sat next to him when they left Manehattan. He had never once stopped jabbering about cockatrices and some other completely mythical beasts. He had gotten off at a stop not far from the city and Valen had been saved from the encroaching insanity by the swiftness of Equestria's chosen mode of transportation. Still, that had done little to comfort him at night as the train roared across the landscape towards Ponyville. It was cold, too cold for his taste, and the wafer-thin blankets provided by the attendants did little to help him. He had eventually adapted to the cold, but the noise had never quite been settled in his head. Newborn foals crying, the rude unicorns behind him yammering on and on about magic, snoring and generally a lot of unpleasantness abound in coach, and it had taken him nearly all night to fall asleep. And it figured that it seemed like he had slept for but a second when the train came to a screeching halt and sent him flying into the back of the seat up front. As he recovered, he moved into the aisle beside himself and took a step forward just as everyone else seemed to gather themselves and do the same. In this pony wave, he was nothing more than a drop and he found the pace to be slow as Ponies gathered their carry-ons. He had no carry-ons, just a single suitcase in luggage, and was more than a little annoyed when multiple ponies in front of him found within them the contempt for others to fully open up their carry ons and count their belongings. Still, progress was made and even though it took several minutes, he was able to squeeze his way out of the exit and nearly trip onto the train station's cement floor.
  9. Honeydew sat in front of her typewriter and stared at the blank piece of paper set in it with growing frustration becoming evident on her face. She had a deadline to worry about. She couldn't be sitting here staring at a piece of paper! She lifted a hoof and started to press a key but stopped herself in time. This wasn't working. Maybe she was pushing herself too hard. Maybe she just needed to get out and take a break. Yes, that sounds like a good idea. I'll take a break. Maybe I'll take a jog or something around the block a few times or sit at the park for a little while... she thought. She put on some legwarmers on each of her legs and put on a headband to keep her bangs out of her eyes. Then, she got out of her apartment and started to trot at an even pace. Maybe if she was really lucky, she'd run into some creatures from another planet or an aristocrat of some kind to chase down and ask questions. That would get the writing juices flowing.
  10. Books. For Quillhorn, it was always about books. Not any books, but many books; not every book, but what felt like a fairly staggering majority of those available to him. It was fairly calm outside, a light distribution of cloud cover and another fresh dusting of snow added to the 'feel' of the season. The day had started rather quietly – it was still mid-winter, and for all the life and energy Canterlot had generated during the holiday season, the chilly season was now keeping the city quieter and a bit more lethargic, with far fewer ponies spending their time outdoors than the rest of the year. He, for one, was a bit happier for the quiet serenity the weather afforded him, and so he took the opportunity to get into his studies a bit more. For now, Quillhorn sat alone in a somewhat secluded corner of the library, amidst the records and history, settled at a fairly large table with several wooden stands keeping books upright for him. Front and center of him was a rather old, slightly sandy tome – a diary, one that was much older than he was, and it was this that had most of his attention. Next to him, a notepad and quill, upon which he wrote from time to time, and around him, two atlas', a few rather heavy-looking Canterlot census copies from many decades prior, and the records from several docks around Germaney. He was, for the moment, investigating something. Such would likely be rather readily apparent. What he was investigating, however, had yet to be disclosed. For all of his reading from one book or the next, for all that the quill beside him would touch upon paper for but a few moments, for all that he was surrounded by information, he made no verbal mention of what he was doing. There was no muttering, no announcements of discovery, nor any dictations of what he read. His eyes were firmly affixed on one book or the next, brow slightly furrowed from time to time, his expression oscillating between scrutiny, sharp focus, curiosity and consternation as time progressed. He did, of course, have reasons for this particular collection of books, and though for the moment he was engrossed in his current study, he was nevertheless in a library, and thus if anypony else were to show up, he and his work would be be quite open to scrutiny.
  11. The air was crisp that day, a cold snap and some stray clouds had brought even more snow upon the already alabaster city. The small shards of the heavens fell in waves lightly, at least in the day time. It gave the Jewel of the North a special charm when it snowed, just another little detail to make the city seem more friendly. Ponies were all a bustle down on the streets going about their lives. Some were shopping and haggling on the corner with the local food cart owners. Sometimes things would sound heated, but after the deal was over everyone was friends again. Some were on their way to and from work, trudging through the newly fallen snow as their steel shod hooves crushed the crystals. Occasionally a foreign word or a fragment in the old Stallian tongue would wash upon the wind. This was a city of intrigue, a city of opportunity, a city of the strong and simple. Sure the flying buttresses of the towering sky-scrapers could be imposing to the newcomers, when one looked past the dark alley ways and harsh weather, it was in fact a beautiful and unique city. Not as beautiful as the frontier that surrounded it, but beautiful all the same. So many strong ponies, stoic griffons, and proud Zebras, all working together to scratch out a niche in the unforgiving wilderness. A single snowflake, unique as the city is was falling upon, twirled and swirled towards the ground. Its journey abruptly ended, however, on something soft light pink and warm. It's uniqueness melted upon contact, as curls of condensing breath careened into the biting morning air. Deep jade pools gazed past the soft pink tip of a muzzle, down upon the amazing city. From the dizzying heights that the eyes were gazing from, the ponies looked like ants, all hurriedly taking care of their own lives, utterly unconcerned with the goings on above their heads. High above the city, above the towering spires and colourful onion domes, there was yet another city. A city with invisible streets, with carts the size of warehouses, and almost no laws what so ever. This was the city of the Airships. Massive lumbering behemoths that dominated the sky, idly floated above the white city. These giants were shepherded by the talented ponies and griffons of the Stalliongrad Air Control. There were many jobs that encompassed the air shipping industry of Stalliongrad, all the way from air ship captain down to the janitors that cleaned the ships after their arrival. All of these jobs were valuable and worked towards one end goal of bringing the ships in safely. One of these said jobs, a rather important one at that, fell squarely on the owner of the jade eyes' shoulders. This was the job of clearing the docking and mooring paths and piers that the airships frequented from flying fowl. This was important because if one of the said fowl were to be sucked into the propellers of the airships, they could cause massive amounts of damage, totaling to untold amounts of bits in repairs, pushing back the shipping schedule even further. Needless to say, this was best avoided. The easiest way to do this would be to have a fleet of Pegasus ponies constantly survey and patrol the area, keeping the birds away. Alas, there were not that many pegasi in Stalliongrad, nor would it be cost effective. This is where Edelweiss came in. She was an independent contractor that worked for a number of companies including but not limited to NSI and even the KOG. She was a very specialized pony after all. She was a falconer something that was very rare in the entirety of Equestria, let alone the frozen city of Stalliongrad. She and her companion, Gwenevere the Gyrfalcon, would patrol the skies and scare off the fowl that might get sucked into a propeller. Gwen was perfect for this task, with her fifty inch wingspan and tenacious personality she would scare any fowl away with in two clicks of her area. This was a busy day for Edelweiss, she had been awake since 04:00 and on the job since 05:00. With her trusty whistle she had been instructing Gwen in her tacking and pursuit maneuvers for a good seven hours and it was time for both of them to take a break. With three sharp blasts from the whistle Edelweiss signaled to Gwen that she was on her own for the time being, free to fly, hunt, and eat what ever she pleased. This was the unsavory part of the job, even though Edelweiss had lived with Gwen for many, many years she was never quite settled with the killing and eating of wild game. She understood that it was needed, and even fed Gwen when she was an Eyass and gives her gifts of deceased voles now and again. It was the act of killing said prey that slightly unnerved her, and this is why she opted for Gwen to hunt on her own for most of her meals. The metal lunch box made a clang when it was dropped on the steel pier that Edelweiss was sitting on. She nosed though it picking out some carrots and lettuce with a cask of warm tea. Sitting watching the tiny ponies go about their business, she felt almost as though she was flying. With a quick flick of her magic the pulled the bone skewers out of her loose bun and let her pin straight hair fall. Instantly it was swept up by the light breeze that carried the snow, blowing a lock or two into her face and the rest flowing with the wind. She was the picture of the stalliongradian mare, white as the driven snow, with small black spots all through out her coat, mimicking the soot that clung to the whiteness of the snow in some parts of the city, sitting in utter defiance of the harsh nature around her, a strong simple mare in a strong simple city. If somepony where to have taken a picture or sketched her, it would have most likely been disputed as a work of fiction. But there she sat, sipping her tea and munching on her carrots, a sight to behold.
  12. The Jam&Cream: Carolling On Morning light crept across the sweet powdery hill, its golden rays curving in odd crisp shapes in a reflective dance across impossible steel walls. From beyond the curve of the bole, a single note drawn from the breast of a cello rose to fill every space, shaking loose boulders from the gradual slopes of the mountain. As the Obo joined its stringed cousin, five pail orbs peaked over the rim, suspended in the gentle yellow aura. With a crash of orchestral might the ovoids split, spilling their liquid contents into the grasp of the sultry glow. A spin of brass and the orange centres separated themselves from their jelly like cocoon, falling like enormous stars to the surface of the sugar coated world. Beyond the chrome walls a swell of milk passed the retreating egg white, spinning and tumbling in the harmonic thrall, whisked mid air into a frothy cream. Descending upon the crash of symbols the unblemished hills of Sugar Mountain were swept away, pulled into a palpitating ribbon of ingredients within the confines of the rapidly filling bole. Sloshing and folding upon itself, the heavy mixture leapt from its prison on a wind of flutes, aglow with the familiar energy that had guided it thus far. Reaching its destination, the twisting mass cascaded into the boiling pot of sweet strawberries upon the hob, sweeping them up on the building crescendo. Within the embrace of the masterful artist, the ribbon danced in thin trails around a silent equine figure, her mane a bluster with the sudden blast of frigid winds encircling her creation. Winter descended the small room, welcoming the spun web of ingredients. And in the swell of the final cord, five carefully arranged tubs received a filling of sweet delight, their lids clamping down to seal away the frozen contents from the world, awaiting the call of happy ponies. Silence descended once more on the kitchen of the Jam & Cream. With a smile that brightened the world around her, Maple Scoops relinquished her charge of the latest batch of ice cream and turned her attention briefly to the grammar phone on the far counter. If there was one thing that ruined a perfect concerto, it was the scratch of the needle reaching the end of its track. The old thing had been an ‘opening-day’ gift from her work colleagues. ‘Old work colleagues,’ she mentally corrected, having not worked in any kitchen other than her own for going on three months. Four weeks had passed since the grand opening of the J&C, premier ice cream bar for the student district of Canterlot, and business had been trotting along at a manageable pace. True there had been the occasional disaster and financial setbacks abound, but they had made it through in the end. Work on converting the old firebarn had progressed steadily and, while they had to open the bar separately for income, with any luck the restaurant side of the business would be open before Hearth Warming. At least it’d better be, considering they were taking bookings already. Placing the five containers into the long icebox, the cream coated unicorn trotted out into the serving area and gave the seating a last once over. Rhythmic hammering of a single diligent worker issued from within the cavernous barn next door, along with the rich voice of a stallion singing a Hearth Warming carol. For a moment, the mare stood and listened, humming in harmony as her magic reached out for the two signs by the elegant front windows. Time to open the doors. “Sweetie,” She called up the spiral stairs that lead to the offices and apartment above the bar, “I’m going to open up.” Trusting that her voice had carried, Maple’s glowing aura grasped the bolts across the front door and pulled one of the twined portals aside. Brilliant warm daylight flooded into the Jam and Cream along with the frigid winter breeze. Two the signs clacked open and were set down upon the cobbles. One read Jam and Cream, Open, Hot pancakes and Hay fries. The other was a black chalk board with a more up to date advertisement; The big barn Bash! HearthWarming grand opening. Live music and open juicebar. Book your table now! Across the street, sat near the cliff railings, a young Pegasus had watching her work and now trotted up to great the cafe owner. This was odd. Usually customers didn’t start arriving until closer mid day, when hungry students were released from morning lectures in search of hot hay and cinnamon pancakes. But the filly that stood on their doorstep now didn’t look like the classical Canterlot college apprentice. “Hello dear! You’re here early, we’re only just opening for the day. Eager to get some pancakes for breakfast?” Straitening a stray lock of light pink mane, the white filly cleared her throat and smiled shyly at the steam on her breath “Umm, do you sell hot chocolate?” Maple chuckled and trotted back into the cafe and ducked behind the counter, hearing the door close behind her as the filly followed her inside. Horn aglow, the unicorn fished out a tall mug from the shelf and set the water heater running, watching as the filly took up station on one of the large been bags by the window. Customers should be trickling in soon, so it was worth getting the kettle and hobs running properly.
  13. Heading into town Clock Works looked around happily and smiled 'So this is Ponyville... Wonder what I should I do first...'. Strolling past several colorful buildings and eventually into the market place. Having normally kept to himself up in his clock tower most of the time, he hardly knew his way around Canterlot, let alone a town he had never even seen until now. But this didn't matter, he came to Ponyville to meet new ponies and to see what life has to offer, other then clocks and watches, and he was determined to make his first impression in Ponyville, a great one, now if only there was somepony to make his first impression on.
  14. Prince Blueblood fumed inside of his private, enclosed carriage. He'd been fuming for the past few days, since he had been given this assignment. But the closer he got to his destination, the more grouchy and disagreeable he became. But, as he been told several times this week already, this was his job. He was a Prince, he wasn't supposed to have a 'job'! Besides, he had underlings that could be doing this! But when the immortal ruler of the land instructed you to personally oversee a project, you did not argue with her. The little town of Ponyville was growing rapidly in the past year. New homes, businesses, and streets were popping up at a rapid pace. Princess Celestia had mentioned the influence of the 'Elements of Rhythm" (or something like that) were contributing to the growth of the town. (He hadn't really paid much attention to that part.) But with all the growth, the palace's maps of the town were woefully out of date. Now, anypony that worked for Blueblood could have done simple maps of streets and such, but Ponyville bordered the Everfree Forest. The forest was governed by its own strange laws, and its borders changed seemingly at random. So Blueblood, as the Royal Cartographer, had been tasked to not only map out the growth in Ponyville, but to accurately plot the borders of the forest. So Blueblood found himself in a carriage on the road to Ponyville, all but one of his servants left behind, and he thought he might die of discomfort before this was all over. "Honestly, you'd think that Celestia could have at LEAST let me use her chariot!" he complained to nopony in particular... for about the fifth time. “This road is so bumpy and dusty!” “Indeed, Sire, undoubtedly a mistaken oversight on the part of Her Majesty,” replied the other unicorn in the carriage, Starched Collar, Blueblood’s butler. He rolled his eyes when he was sure the Prince was not looking at him. “How soon before we reach this flyspeck of a village?” Blueblood complained, failing to notice that the carriage was already slowing to a stop. One of the pony chauffeurs unhitched himself from the carriage, and came back to knock on the door. “Your ‘Highness’, we have arrived.” He called through the door, his voice dripping with sarcasm. Blueblood, oblivious to the tone in the chauffeur’s voice, nodded in acknowledgement. “Indeed. Starched Collar, you may announce me,” he told his Butler. Starched Collar opened the door to the carriage and stepped out with a sigh borne of long suffering. He quickly unrolled a red carpet off the step of the carriage, then took at deep breath. “ANNOUNCING HIS ROYAL HIGHNESS, PRINCE OF CANTERLOT, AUGUSTUS BLUEBLOOD!” he shouted across the square. ((Your Prince is here! You may bask in his radiance! Or kick dirt in his face, either way works.))
  15. Hoofington approached the beginning of another autumn day, but despite the brightening horizon the city remained dark. The streets were tunnels of thick fog, bounded by the dark shapes of the buildings on either side. Sparse light was provided by the street lamps and their misty halos, and by the more distant shine of the lighthouse, but no sign could be seen of the approaching sunrise. The air was chilly and damp, and the sounds made by those ponies who bothered to be out and about echoed weirdly in the dark. Condensation sparkled on every surface. A loaded wagon trundled east across one of the bridges over the river. The pony pulling it was wrapped up heavily against the chill, but this was evidently small comfort. His mouth, poking out from under the hood, moved in the manner of one muttering under his breath and fighting chattering teeth to do it. It was difficult to hear any of it, but a few words could be made out at distant intervals. "...cursed fog... too early for autumn... 'sta nebbia, oje..." The wagon turned off of the wide road leading from the bridge and onto a smaller street, lined with small but well-made buildings. After a number of blocks its driver paused in front of a small, two-story building, then took it around the back. ----- The inside of the building was nearly as dark, but much warmer. The first floor was mostly taken up by a kitchen; at some point in the very recent past a brick oven had been built on one side. The warmth and noise of a crackling fire emanated from it, but the light struggled to peek through the doorway, reflecting only faintly on the surfaces beyond. From a door on the opposite side of the room, there came the muffled sounds of objects being dragged and pushed, sorted and placed on shelves, and occasionally the thump of something being dropped, followed by brief cursing. After an hour or so of this, the door opened; a yellow pony with green eyes and unkempt red hair entered the kitchen, carrying a flat rectangular package in his mouth. He set it down on the counter that separated the kitchen from the small seating area, turned on the lights, and trotted across to the oven, peering inside. Nodding, he picked up the package again, went around the end of the counter, and exited the front door. The fog, though still dense, was thinning, as the light of day burned it away; the occasional breeze and sensation of movement above suggested that local pegasi were helping clear the air as well. The yellow pony grinned at the thought of a sunny day, and unwrapped the package, revealing a carefully carved and painted wooden sign, which said, in curly letters: Prancing Street Pizzeria & Bakery PIzza Peel stood up on his hind legs, and carefully hung the sign from a pair of hooks near the door. He stood back briefly to admire the look of it. "Ah, lovely." He hurried back indoors. There were a few hours yet before opening, but there was so much left to do: get the oven warmed up fully, set up the tables outside, bake some things for the breakfast crowd... assuming there would be a crowd. He'd informally opened up the place to the other shopkeepers on Prancing Street, and he'd put up flyers about the official opening, but he wasn't sure most Hoofingtonians even knew what a pizzeria was, or ever had pizza at all. He hadn't seen any, but then again he was still fairly new in the city. But if they were there at opening time, he'd show them. He would be ready.
  16. Wrong Note trotted calmly through the familiar streets of her adopted town of Hoofington. The sun was just beginning to peak out from behind the crystal layer of water, casting it's glow over the streets. She loved early morning for both their beauty and their silent calm. Taking a few minutes to stand still on the docks, Wrong Note let the light ocean breeze toss her mane about. For several minutes, she merely stood, watching the sun rise. It was only when the port bell began to ring to announce the arrival of the morning shipments that Wrong Note continued on her way. The Hook, Line, and Sinker lay just around the corner. It was a small shop, just the right size to make it cozy but not claustrophobic. It was made of simple wood, with varnish to protect it from the frequent rain that occurred in the waterside town. Wrong Note smiled at the familiar shape. Everything she had come to recognize was a far cry from her old, glamourous life, but she felt just as much privilege for her lifestyle. The purple earth pony entered the shop slowly, a soft ding emanating from the bell near the door frame. Realizing that she was the first pony to arrive, Wrong Note quickly opened up the shop. Setting out the new items for sale and organizing the counter, the earth pony dashed around the store until she was certain that everything was in order. With a flick of the hoof, she changed the sign in the store window to display the word “OPEN” and quickly made her way behind the counter, awaiting her first customer of the day.
  17. Gladwin Gladwin's wings blew gusts of air to the ground as he softly landed in Canterlot. "So, this is Canterlot, huh?" He said, his head turned in every direction taking in the sights of the magnificent city. Gladwin had heard stories, and tales of Canterlot, and of its beauty, but he had never actually taken the time to see what the city was all about. He was in awe at the sheer size of the buildings, and the architecture involved in them. The whole place just seemed alive and colorful. "This place is amazing!" He said with a wide grin, and extended wings. His display caught the attention of many though. Griffin's did not frequent Canterlot very often, so it seemed. Many ponies were staring at him, and his wings. They whispered quietly to each other, mostly negative things. Gladwin's smile shrunk a bit, and turned into more of a nervous smile. He felt a flash of heat come over him as blood raced to his face. His wings fell slowly, and then went back to rest at his sides. What are they staring at? he wondered to himself. He began to slowly walk backwards, withdrawing from the ring of ponies he was in. "Oh, excuse me." He said, butting through one wall of the onlookers. "This town sure isn't as welcoming as I hoped..." Gladwin's eyes scanned the area he was in, and photocopied it all to his brain. He would later use these memories to make maps of the city. "Maybe if I had someone to show me around..." He said quietly to himself. "But those ponies from when I first arrived... Seemed a bit less then friendly." Gladwin rolled his eyes in frustration. He let out a sigh, and then resumed his positive attitude, "Ah, what do they know? They were probably just stunned by how awesome we griffin's look." He said with a laugh. "Now, to find somepony who looks friendly enough to show a lost griffin around Canterlot... But... Where do I start?"
  18. Cosmopolitan grumbled as she looked about her office for the article that she was supposed to have two hours ago. The pink Unicorn was looking increasingly cross as she lifted the last of the debris away from her desk to reveal an immaculate room as everything was sent to precisely where it belonged. She shook her head, lime-green mane flying in minor disgust with the writer. A deadline was just that-a deadline! She stormed out, her blue eyes almost ice-chips as she began a fast walk to the exit. She paused by her lead designer's office, smiling tensely as she spied the mare hard at work. "Well, at least we know you're doing your very best, Wish. If you see our new writer before I get back, please inform her that her deadline is over two hours past and that I'd like to see her in my office. I'm going to see what scarves are in the nearest store...maybe that will keep me from firing a skilled talent..." She muttered, relieved when the designer waved her off with a hoof in both acknowledgement and farewell. She left her building, the size and noise of Manehattan pervading her senses before she gave a sigh of relief. Shopping. She needed to buy a new scarf, for sure. But what, really, was fashionable to wear for such a powerful young Mare? After a half-hour of searching the stores, she squealed. There it was...her new hot item. The scarf itself was very simple, a two-tone that could only look right when worn in a certain way. She chuckled as she twisted it around her neck, the light and dark blue contrasting her pink pelt nicely. The price-tag winked from a loose end, her eyes widening in surprise. It had to be on sale! If this was a sign, by Celestia, she would follow it! But what could go wrong now?
  19. A little slice of heaven... A tea shop sometimes nestled in the town of Canterlot. The shop itself is made of clouds, and is supplemented with glossy wood planking in the interior, so that non-pegasi can walk inside the tea shop. The furnishings inside are mostly made of clouds, columns and tables. On top of the tables are bottles of rainbow, situated near a candle that sheds a myriad of colors in multiple directions. In the back of the shop is a long counter-top, and behind the counter is a multitude of fine china. Saucers, teacups, larger glasses and plates. To the right side of the counter-top is a glass case, and inside are a multitude of fine-smelling pastries. In the center of the room, hanging from the soft, cloudy ceiling, is a large candelabra. The candelabra is obviously enchanted, from small cups at the top of the candelabra are candles, which are oozing rainbow colored wax onto a large ornate glass cup below them. Behind that glass cup a large candle is situated, which broadcasts a large myriad of colors on the cloudy white walls. A myriad of wonderful smells assault the senses of ponies entering A little slice of heaven. The first that can most easily be distinguished is the multitude of fruit and flower fragrances that waft through the air inside the shop. The scent isn't overpowering, but it comes to the nose in layers. After the nose gets used to the fruit and flower smells, The smell of the baked goods begins to fill the room. Almonds, hazelnuts, chocolate, cinnamon, and sugary icing. A purple maned pony with lighter highlights stands behind the counter of the tea shop, one typically dressed in a myriad of clothing, depending on her mood. Sometimes she chooses to dress in the attire of a maid, and other times she graces her purple mane with a hat of some kind. The rainbow dances along her white coat as she serves tea to the ponies who frequent her shop. The fruit scent comes from the tea, you see. The tea is blended with perfection to serve as a perfect compliment to the baked goods served. Currently there's a special promotion she's holding. The shop recently arrived in Canterlot, after a long stint in Cloudsdale, and Starburst has given vouchers to Very Important Ponies. The vouchers entitle the holder to a free cup of tea with the purchase of one of her special baked goods. If you're in Canterlot, you've probably come across one of the coupons within the last few days. And the promotion only lasts for a week, so you better take advantage of the offer while it lasts.
  20. It was another dull day of classes for Scale Model. Formulas and variables drifted through his head as he idly roamed the streets, trying to unwind a little. He didn't have any pressing assignments, other than little tidbits of homework that shouldn't take too long. For now, he wandered the streets of Canterlot, searching for something to take his mind off of his classes. Sure, Celestia's sun had gone down already, but his mind was far too active to rest. He wasn't sure if he could find his way back later, but that would be later. For now, the idle wandering along the streets of the Equestrian capitol calmed his mind slightly.
  21. The black pelted, red and black haired pegasus Darkest Dawn had just arrived in Ponyville after a long trip from his previous residence in the city of Canterlot. Dawn found himself taking this trip because he had purchased an old observatory in the humble town from whatever money he could scrape together. It wasn't much to look at from the images he had seen but Dawn saw it as a golden opportunity to continue his research in astronomy. When Dawn arrived at the town square however, he found that all his eagerness had turned into nervousness as he observed this strange new town that was foreign to him. Dawn had never seen much outside of Canterlot so he didn't know exactly how to go about this, he felt slightly 'out of place'. Dawn tried to reassure himself in his head, Just relax Dawn, nothing's as bad as you usually make it out to be. Dawn thought as he tried to feel better about his current situation. The pegasus decided that before he goes to see his new home that he would try and take in the sights of the town and maybe get to know a few ponies while he was at it. Dawn looked around at the crowded town square and looked at all the colourful buildings as he contemplated what to do next, .....So then...where first? Dawn asked himself as he scratched his head in thought.
  22. A little boat, barely more than a raft, was slowly making its way in the waters of the mangrove. Wearing a long-worn pointy hat, a ragged travel cloth, and smoking her long wooden pipe, River Spirits was moving a long stick left and right, plunging it deep into the waters of the marshland and pushing her boat forward. The world around her was nothing but vegetation merging into water. Gigantic trees raised from the swamp, their roots arching themselves like sea snakes, their branches heavy with leaves and vines. Smaller bushes and reeds, of many shapes and sizes, crowded the banks or gathered together to form little isles in the middle of the river. Frail little flowers floated around the zebra mare. And the foliage reflected in the water, like a reverse world mirrored under the real one : there was no up nor down in the Soggalong swamps. And the marsh was living, filled with activity and sounds. Clouds of flies, dragonflies, mosquitoes and many other bugs hummed in the air, birds flew low from branches to branches, elusives reptiles hid themselves in the bushes and blurred shapes of fishes flowed under the boat. The water lazily carried floating plants, dead logs, and the occasional alligator along the way. The zebra's boat moved along, barely disturbing the wildlife, as if it was itself a part of the swamp. The sun was setting in the horizon, bathing the clouds in orange light, but the heat and the humidity was still barely tolerable, weighing heavily on anypony, or anything, foolish enough to be out in the open air at this time of the year. River Spirits wasn't spared, she felt like she was covered in sweat. She didn't mind at all, though. This place was a paradise for her, full of flowers and exotic herbs and many other treasures, as it was for anyone who knew where to search. She already had a good harvest, stored in pots or bags in her little boat, alongside her sleepy snake, curled on itself. This place could also be very dangerous for anyone who didn't knew its way. Treacherous waters, confusing paths, poisonous plants, dangerous creatures and fearsome monsters where but a few of the many dangers of the Soggalong Swamps. Ponies and griffins avoided the place with reason ; River Spirits had yet to meet another soul in this place. It was a good thing, she thought. Anypony lost here would surely need help, and help they were unlikely to find. With her clothes and her snake, anypony meeting her would shriek in terror at the sight of the "wandering witch" anyways, the zebra mare chuckled. River Spirits stopped her train of thought and her little boat for an instant to light her little lantern ; the sun was fading, and soon she would have to find a place to sleep for the night.
  23. [[i suppose I'll be the first to try and start something in Stalliongrad. Absolutely anypony is welcome. Hopefully this goes well... ]] Snowfall wore a relaxed smirk as she studied the open, sprawling main hall of her Vysokii District estate. The room was filled with with numerous ponies and other creatures, here on invitation. Tonight was the Northern Storm Industries yearly anniversary banquet. Invitations had been sent all throughout Equestria to the elitist of the elite, NSI employees, investors, business partners, contributors, and even just trusted customers. Snow was positive that were some in the crowd who didn't have much of any connection to the company whatsoever. Snowfall purposely hadn't made it very hard to get an invitation. The easiest way to lose the faith of a populace was to become too exclusive. Her father's company, her company, it was about the little faces who held it up and made it strong just as much as it was about Snowfall herself. Trust was the most important thing. Though her security detail complained about her being so lax in who was invited, Snowfall didn't listen. A little vulnerability was a more than fair price to pay for a sense of welcoming. Intent to get the banquet started on the right note, Snowfall prepared herself. She was scheduled to make a short preliminary address to the guests before the food was to be served to them. Honestly, she was more excited about the banquet than the speech. She loved nothing more than a good social function, and she was looking forward to a chance to show off the stunning black dress she had ordered special from a private owned dress shop in Ponyville that had come to her with the strongest recommendation. Still, that didn't mean she wasn't going to try her hardest with the speech. Snowfall quietly approached a small podium that had been set up for her. The musicians she had hired stopped playing as she stood there. The room fell quiet and everyone came to stare in her direction. She gave a small cough and then scanned the room, looking from face to face. Then, standing firm, she began to speak. "Welcome all to the 34th Annual Northern Storm Industries Anniversary Banquet. Thirty four years ago today, my father spent every bit he had to purchase a run-down, griffin-owned factory in the South Kuznitza District that was set to be demolished. From those humble beginnings, the fine company you see standing before you today was slowly but surely built," Snow began her speech in a strong, proud voice. "Starting out, everypony told my father he was a fool. There was no future in machinery in an Equestria where magic already had such a strong hold on everypony's life. But my father didn't listen to the neighsayers. He stood firm and committed to his fledgling company and through his continued efforts, NSI became a cornerstone of Stalliongrad's continued prosperity. "Now it isn't just Stalliongrad this company proudly serves! No, NSI's presence extends throughout Greater Equestria and proudly even to our neighbors in Aquelia. For the sake of everyone, pony, griffin and all others alike, NSI works day and night to bring you all the best products your bits can buy. "My father's disappearance seven years still hangs heavy in my heart, but I can say with confidence that the company he built from the ground with his own hooves is stronger today than it ever has been. I remain committed to his vision and legacy and intend to do my part to guide this fine company, Stalliongrad and all of Equestria into the future!" Snow showed more vulnerability as she spoke this part, though she remained firm. She gave a cough before continuing. "With that out of the way, let's begin the festivities. My guests, I welcome you in joining me in enjoying the finest of foods my team of chefs can offer. I hope you all enjoy this evening. I thank you all for coming." With her speech done, Snowfall left the podium. As several long tables, filled to the brim with fine foods were wheeled out before the guests and the musicians began to play again, Snow let herself disappear into the crowd, intent on mingling with her various guests.
  24. Early Morning on Gallopocus Island, A time before the beaches were overly crowded and the surfers were few. Morning had begun and as far as Blue Bolt could tell, today was going to be just another day on the island. She took a deep breath as she stood on one of the beaches – a Storm was supposed to reach the island in a few days time and she’d arrived early to hang out and take in the familiar sights and activities of her island home. One of her favorites, of course, was ‘surfing’; that is, riding the air currents above the water with the waves. She spotted a larger wave gathering not far from shore, perfect for surfing, and spread her wings, taking flight to go greet the wave with a grin. “All right den, wave. Do your worst, mon!" she challenged it, turning quickly back towards shore as the current created by the wave pushed at her wings and she fought it to stay on top of the water. Her style of surfing might not be typical, but it was good pratice and fun all in one!
  25. Yar ! Whirlwind was dressed as a pirate, with a cool black tricorne, a fake eye patch with a pony skull drawing on it, a sabre and a gun, and a peg leg oddly fitting on her amputated back leg. She still couldn't walk, but that didn't stop the little filly from having fun ! She had come to the Harvest Spook-Tacular festival with her parents, and was now happily flying around the festival grounds. Cotton candy, toy shops, carnival games, everything promised her she'd spend an awesome time here. But one thing attracted her attention : just off the main festival grounds, there was a “Pumpkin Patch” which really was more like a gigantic field full of pumpkins, of all sizes and all shapes. Curious, the little pony flew toward it. It was like entering in another world. The Pumpkin Patch was lit by a lot of tiny lanterns inside carved pumpkins : a thousand tiny orange dots of light dotted the fields and stretched the shadows across the pathways, lengthening the creepy smiles of the pumpkins. The only other light was coming from the stars, and both stretched as far as the eye could see. White dots and orange dots illuminated the world and reached the horizon, where they finally met. The place was calm, and eerily quiet : there wasn't many ponies walking around the patch at this time of the night, and the vastness of the fields and the skies made them look small and insignificant anyways. Here and there Whirlwind could hear sounds of ponies chatting, giggles and playful screams, or the muffled noises of the festival. And the carved pumpkins all smiled at her. Some of them had crudely shaped pointy teeth ; some of them bore evil looks. Some looked happy, some looked sad, some looked angry. Some even looked like carefully detailed works of art, picturing a pony, or a cat, or another thing. All of them, with their little light inside them that made their faces glow, were slightly disturbing. No wonder ponies said there were ghosts around here, the pink pegasus thought. This place was scarier than the haunted house, in its own way. Whirlwind flew around the field, looking at the pumpkins. She wanted to carve one ! Her parents had said she could, and that they wanted to buy a few pumpkins. She had her knife and everything and she was ready to play and create the creepiest pumpkin of them all. All she needed was to find the perfect one to carve. And so, looking for her pumpkin, deeper and deeper into the fields she flew ...
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