The Coming Storm

by Jay911

CAVU

JULY 6

"Not exactly stealthy."

"I didn't know we were trying to hide," Jeff said back to Swift.

"Well..." she said, holding her words, as she didn't have a comeback to that one. We were outside, letting our breakfasts digest while we looked over the vehicles they'd come back with the night before. A Prius is a Prius, to be truthful, so we'd started with the pickup.

It was a lifted, blue and silver, 1978 GMC K2500 pickup. Someone had swapped a monster diesel into it that usually belonged in a city bus, highway tractor, or commercial generator. It had a "headache rack" bar protecting the cab from whatever was in the box, and it was a noisy, beastly thing.

"It's an awesome truck," I said, smiling as I looked over it. "All it needs is a 'Zombie Hunting Team' sticker on it somewhere."

That one got both of them to snicker. "Yeah, I can see that," Swift admitted.

"I made sure it had its own hitch," Jeff pointed out, walking around the back and indicating the lowered connector the truck needed due to it being so high off the ground. "I didn't want to get it all the way here and then find out our trailer would drag its bumper on the road."

"Good thinking," I acknowledged, circling around the rig with him. I was smirking to myself at how I could inspect the undercarriage easily from my vantage point. Maybe being this low to the ground had its advantages after all.

"Looks pretty mechanically sound," I commented. "It's a shame whoever took such great care of this thing isn't around to enjoy it."

"We can say a few words to thank him at dinner if you like."

I shot a look over to Swift, even though she was joking. "Let's not get all morbid."

Jeff went on to the driver's door, rearing up on his hind legs and unlatching it, then pulling it open. "One thing I like and don't like at the same time is how tall it is. Lots of ground clearance is good, but it's a chore to get up into. For those of us without magic," he added as an afterthought, smirking at Swift.

I put my hooves on the door sill, higher than my "normal" head height now. "Yeah. I thought I had a rough time getting into the SUV. I would've had trouble with this even when I was a full-sized guy."

I almost heard Swift wince for me. It took a beat for me to figure it out, and then my blood ran like liquid nitrogen.

"A full-sized what?" Jeff asked for clarification.

"Ummm..." Swift said hesitantly, after I'd remained frozen and silent for a long moment.

"Stormy?" Jeff asked, and I felt myself redden, and knew my wings were poofed out.

I squeezed my eyes shut, hopped back down to the ground, and scurried under the truck back to the safety of the inside of the store.

I heard, rather than saw, someone walk into the living spaces and stand at the threshold of my room. This was because I was curled up tightly in a ball, burrowed under all the blankets and pillows and other stuff littering my futon.

"Go away," I called out, which surely came out like a muffled mumble. I had no interest in talking to anyone. I'd just alienated and outed myself, and as far as I was concerned, life was over. Time to pack up in the middle of the night when neither of them were up, and steal away to go survive on my own.

I felt a hoof press down gently on the blankets, searching me out. The fact it wasn't a magical grasp lifting the covers off me was a mild surprise. "Hey," Jeff said softly. "Can we talk?"

I didn't know how to answer, so I didn't try. I felt him lie down beside me. To add another surprise, a thinner yet slightly larger creature flopped down on my other side and leaned up against me. Then he began slowly wagging his tail, thumping it against both the floor and my backside. Thump. Thump. Thump.

"I guess that was something you wanted to keep to yourself, huh?" I heard Jeff's voice filter through my protective fabric shield from the world.

There were so many things I could have said, and wanted to say, but the only thing that came out was: "Yeah."

"Can I ask why? Were you worried what we'd think?"

"Swift already knows," I murmured.

"What I'd think, then?"

"...Kinda," I admitted.

"Stormy, you're a pony. I'm a pony. Swift's a pony. We're already coping with being a completely different species, one... or three, depending on your point of view... that shouldn't really exist. To be completely honest with you... knowing who or what you were before doesn't make a difference to me. Don't get me wrong, I'm not saying I don't care, and you shouldn't think that either. But we seem to be stuck like this, so there's no reason to dwell on the past."

I gave an emotionless little laugh. "Would you believe that's the same kind of thing I said to Swift when we were talking about this?"

"Well, there you go. Why are you so worked up over this? If you're already accepting it..."

I took a moment to compose my thoughts as he trailed off. "I guess I ... was afraid you'd think I was some kind of weirdo, for accepting what I've become far too readily. As if I was unhappy with what I was before, and-"

"Stormy."

I shut up and listened.

"...I'd say look at me, but there's a Frozen comforter in the way."

I wriggled a little forward and peeked out of my nest, finding myself face to face with the earth pony.

He put on a smile and said, "You're. A. Pegasus."

I blinked.

"What's the difference between accepting that you've been turned into a alien little talking pegasus, and accepting that you've been turned into a girl alien little talking pegasus?" He backed up put a hoof to his chest. "Should I be having an existential crisis because I'm an earth pony instead of a struggling collegiate? Should Swift be breaking down because she's a unicorn instead of a chemical engineer?"

He leaned in again. "Why should it matter to you - or anyone else, for that matter - what you were versus what you are?"

I gave a little smile, recognizing my own arguments being used against me. "I just didn't know what you'd think," I said tinily, ears folded back.

"What I think? I'm not the one who matters, but if you want to know what I think, I think it's one more bizarre piece to this whole puzzle. Nothing more, nothing less."

"You don't think..." I blushed. "I'm a guy pretending to be a-"

"You're a pegasus," he reiterated, cutting me off.

"...I'm a pegasus," I finally took the hint, smiling sheepishly.

"There's too much at stake to wring our ... well, hooves, at what's gone on in the past. We have to look forward, Stormy. Nothing in the past can help us. None of it will do us any good. And we can't change it."

"Right," I admitted.

"Now, I'll understand it if you want me to avoid calling you a 'lady'. I'm sorry if that was disturbing you before, but in my defense, I didn't know."

I shook my head. "It's what I am, right?" I said with a weak smile.

"So far you've shown no evidence to the contrary," he said with a wink.

I let out a timid laugh. "Thanks, I think."

He held out a hoof to me. "Can we go back outside now and finish looking over the cars?"

"Do we have to look at the Prius?"

Jeff hauled me to my hooves, helping me shed the blankets as I rose. "She spent a lot of time finding that car, you know. You should humor her a little."

I stuck my tongue out and frowned again. "It's a Prius."

"I wish I understood what you have against Priuses. Pri-i? Prius'?"

"Drive behind one for a while," I quipped, following him back to the auto bay doors.

Buddy got up as well and walked beside me on my other side, and I lifted a hoof to skritch behind his ears briefly. "Thanks, pal," I said softly to him. Despite all the snarking we did at one another, he was still a dog, and dogs were still man's best friend, even if man was a pony and a mare now.

When we got outside, Swift was pretending to busy herself with cleaning the last owner's stuff out of the Prius, little neat piles of junk lined up beside the rear hatch. She looked up and clearly didn't know what to say or do as we approached.

I decided it was a good time to bury hatchets. "Sorry I mocked your car," I mumbled.

Swift raised an eyebrow. "What exactly were you two talking about in there?" she asked Jeff.

And so, the rest of the morning was spent going over the vehicles, as we'd scheduled previously. It took all three of us to figure out how to force the Prius to run only on electricity. It limited the car's top speed, but as we were neither having to keep up with freeway traffic nor going on long highway trips, that was fairly irrelevant.

It had a power-adjustable driver's seat, too, which helped put things into the optimal pony-shaped driving position. Neither vehicle had adjustable pedals, though, which the SUV had, so we were sitting way too close to the steering wheel. Luckily there would be few things to crash into to set the airbag off and potentially fill our rib cages with shattered bones.

While the Prius was charging, we went back to the truck. It was left with its door open, same as how it had been after my faux pas.

Jeff crouched before me. "Allow me, madam." He winked and nodded to his back.

I smiled and rolled my eyes, though feeling grateful he was humoring me. I used him as a step stool to climb up into the truck, while Swift levitated herself into the passenger side.

No such luck as a power seat in this beast - instead there was a cloth-and-vinyl fixed bench seat. I tripped over the floor shifter as I slid over to make room for Jeff to haul himself up.

"What the... it's a manual," I commented.

"Yup," Jeff said, perching on the seat. "Oh, have you never driven one before?"

I shook my head. "I'm fine, my dad had a standard van when I was a kid. But isn't it hard to shift for us?"

Jeff shrugged. "I can reach," he said. "Match revs and you don't even have to use the clutch, except for taking off. Sight lines are a bit bad since you're sitting so low, but we'll see about doing something for that."

"I've never driven stick," Swift contributed. "So either I stick with the one car or one of you is going to have to teach me."

"We'll teach you," Jeff said before I could answer. "We should all be familiar with everything just in case we need to use it in a hurry."

"Like if one of us is hurt or incapacitated?" I finished for him, saying what he apparently deliberately left out.

"Or something," he nodded.

I tapped the power button for the ham radio and it woke up nicely, the electronic equipment a stark contrast to the 'ancient' mechanical dash. "Can you hear yourself think over the 453 at road speed?" I asked, referring to the engine.

"Are you supposed to?" Jeff grinned.

"Truck nerds," Swift said, rolling her eyes at us.

Later, I was finishing off the last of our carrots and reading a magazine I miraculously hadn't already seen for the 37th time when Swift came up to me.

"Done lunch yet?" she asked.

I looked up, making an exaggerated chewing motion. "Almosh," I smirked.

"Okay, 'cause I want to talk when... yuck! ...when you're done."

"Is this about earlier? 'Cause Jeff helped me get over that," I said. "We're cool."

"No, but that's good to hear," she said. "I wanna talk about our friends."

"Our friends?"

"The black helicopter guys?"

"Oh," I nodded. "Okay, be right there."

A few moments later, I found the two of them in the common area. "What's up?" I asked.

"Hey," Swift nodded, then set down the pen she was filling her latest notebook (I'd lost count at over 30) with. "Something's been eating at me about 'their' note." She held up the paper in her magic, then set it on the table in front of us.

"Ah yes, the mysterious 'X'," Jeff intoned.

"The mysterious 'X' thinks we have a mystery of our own," Swift said. She quoted the letter: "'We need to know how you are managing to survive at your location with the resources you have on hand.' Forgive me for downplaying what we've done here, but isn't it kind of obvious what we've done? I mean, we haven't done more than anypony else would have done. Right?"

"You'd think so," I agreed. "I mean, shelter, water, food, right? It's not like there's a dearth of resources for us to draw on."

"Unless they think..." Jeff trailed off, then shrugged. "No, I don't know what they're thinking."

"They were at the nuclear plant, so they know it's not radiating," I said. "Or, I guess, we assume it's not radiating. None of the alarms or sirens ever went off, but maybe something strange that doesn't register on the meters happened. For that matter, maybe there was a Dr Freeman in there who fucked with somebody's casserole." I gave Swift a quizzical frown. "You got any ideas?"

She shook her head, then looked thoughtful. "The only thing that comes to mind is the anti-magic field they employed on us."

"They hardly employed it on us," I retorted.

"You know what I mean," Swift hoofwaved. "Maybe it's a side-effect of their own survival gear or travel. Maybe they think it's lethal to everypony else."

It was Jeff's turn to look pensive. "You said everything everywhere has magic, right?"

Swift nodded.

"Except them? What about that rover that delivered the stuff?" he said, gesturing to the kitchen with a hoof.

"I didn't specifically check," Swift said. "But I didn't feel the anti-magic field from it. Or the stuff."

"Me neither," I contributed.

Swift swiveled her head around and looked toward the kitchen, her horn glowing briefly. "It's like everything else," she said. "No anomalies."

"Or maybe everything is anomalous," Jeff suggested. "Maybe magic isn't supposed to be here."

"Well, it is," Swift said, shaking her head. "Whatever their reasoning is, we need to come up with an answer for them when, or if, they call back."

"They said they had other things to do," I commented. "So I think we have a little time."

"Weren't you ever a scout?" Swift shot at me with a smile. "I thought you were supposed to be prepared."

"Ladies," Jeff interjected, and after a pregnant pause, we all shared a laugh considering the earlier events of the day.

"So anyway. We know these guys are out there. We know they're 'dealing with other survivors'-" Swift actually made 'hoof quotes' in the air "-whatever that means. And they want to know, on their own timetable, what we're doing and how we're doing it. So we need to get together an idea of what we're going to tell them when we talk to them again." She eyed me.

"Why are you looking at me?" I asked.

"You're our radio expert, Stormy," she smiled. "Plus you have a great radio voice."

Jeff sniggered, and I blushed, managing to keep my wings in this time. "Thanks... I guess," I said, looking away.

"Okay. Anything wrong with telling them the truth?" Jeff said, looking at us. "We lucked out in getting a skilled camper slash electronics expert, a chemist and professional organizer, and a building engineer slash budding amateur veterinarian together, and used all the supplies we found around us to build a survival shelter?"

"Better than nothing," I shrugged.

"What about a face-to-face meeting, or at least face-to-radio-to-face?" Swift asked. "Can your radio thing do video transmissions?"

I shook my head. "The best I can do is something called 'slow scan TV'. Think of a really slow slide show with no audio."

"Bummer," Swift said. "I get the feeling that seeing us would answer some of their questions. We could even take them on a tour of the place."

Jeff swung his foreleg. "The robot!" he said. When we looked at him, he said embarrassedly, "Aheh... just tried to snap my fingers. The robot, the cart thing, had a camera on it. Presumably for them to navigate with, but there's no reason we couldn't say hi the next time it's out for a stroll."

"Do we know when that is?" Swift asked. "Besides when it comes knocking."

"That weird telemetry sound on the radio was from it," I said. "I can set up one of the radios to listen for it - then we'll know it's close."

"Okay," Swift nodded. "So are we agreed that we tell them our life stories - after waking up on May 23, of course - as the answer to their question?"

We all agreed, and thus the meeting broke up. I went to fiddle with the radios for a bit, setting up things as we'd agreed, then returned to the common area to work on some other things.

Jeff found me there some 90 minutes or so later. Standing over me, some poster board and colored markers before me that I'd appropriated from the arts & crafts aisle, he quipped, "Stay between the lines."

I looked up at him and gave a sarcastic smile. "I should whap you with this for that," I said, unfolding a wing and then putting it away (unable to resist demonstrating my recently developed ability to control them separately, though they still didn't do their job yet).

"Sorry. What're you up to?"

"All the talk about us surviving and using our resources made me think about our scavenger runs," I began. "And yet another thing we probably should've been doing from the get-go. Leaving notices... messages... for other people ... or ponies... to find. Maybe none of them have radios or wore them out long before getting in range of our signal. So we should probably have done this a long time ago." I looked at the blank poster board. "And I'm not the best artist... especially now that I'm gonna have to draw with my mouth."

Jeff hmm'ed. "Sketch it out with a pencil first," he suggested. "That way you can just trace."

"I know, but 'a', it's the idea I'm having trouble with let alone the drawing of it, and '2', it's hard to trace when the lines you're trying to see are under your chin." I took a capped marker in my mouth and bent my head to the poster board. "Shee?"

"I get you," Jeff smiled, as I spat out the marker. "So what is it you want to say?"

I sat back and sighed, contemplating. "As sappy as this sounds, I want a picture of a pony on top. So people - ponies - will know this is from someone like them, who's gone through what they've gone through. Catch their attention."

"Sounds good so far," Jeff nodded. "Standing out against all the other flyers and posters out there. Where are you planning to put this, by the way?"

"I'm thinking we take a gennie to a Staples or something and crank out some copies, and laminate them, then leave them in places where it makes sense that people will gather, or scavenge. Malls, grocery stores, maybe even interchanges and highway junctions? Anyway, the text in the middle should say something like what we've got on the radio message - you know, we're out here, you're not alone, yadda yadda yadda. And then at the bottom, a simplified map of the area, pointing at our location."

"Ponytown. You know you're going to get flak if you don't include that," Jeff smiled.

I rolled my eyes. "Yeah, yeah. 'You're not alone. We are survivors. We have food and shelter. Come to Ponytown! Kids 12 and under enter free on Tuesdays.'"

Jeff laughed. "Sounds like you have it all planned out, actually. Why don't you ask our resident scribe to use her magic abilities to draw this?"

"I don't want to seem like I'm taking advantage of her skill all the time," I said. "You know. Like when you own a truck, everyone suddenly needs your help moving? When you get magic, don't you think that she gets tired of levitating stuff for us?"

"She's eager to hone and fine-tune her new skills," he pointed out. "Once you figure out flying, would you consider it a burden to be asked to take something up to the roof, or fly this over there, or go up and see what you can see from overhead, or things like that?"

The thought of flying almost put my fur on edge. The fact Jeff said 'when', figuratively, and not 'if', buoyed my spirits. "Okay, I get your point. I'll ask her."

"All right," Jeff said, tapping a hoof to my shoulder. "Have fun. I'll be out playing with the truck, making sure the tune is right, and such."

I nodded, smiling, and got to my hooves, collecting the art supplies to seek out our unicorn.

"That's actually a pretty good idea," Swift nodded when I told her of my plan. "Sure, I'll help."

I set the art supplies down and flopped down on the floor. "I don't suppose you were any good at drawing too, in your past life?"

"I'm no illustrator, but everypony doodles," she said, taking up the pencil and looking at the paper for a moment. She waved a hoof across it as she spoke. "So. Pony here, 'about us' here, 'Ponytown' here, and a map down here?"

"That's about the size of it," I said, nodding. I gave her a few ideas about the text I wanted to use, and she jotted it down, erasing occasionally as she resized a word or arranged it differently.

"I figure the map should be small enough to not take up the whole thing, but big enough that people can figure out where they are in relation to us," I said.

"Right," she said, nibbling on the end of the pencil. "Wish we had a computer to just print off a satellite view from."

"Maybe Mr X could share some stuff in the next batch," I quipped.

"We need to be careful about adopting or taking in their tech," Swift murmured matter-of-factly as she scribbled out a drawing of the region. "I'm still not one hundred percent convinced they're on the up and up."

"Duly noted," I nodded. "I was just kidding."

"I know," Swift smiled, focusing on her work. After a few more moments, she glanced up and lifted a hoof my way. "Sit up."

"What?" I said, while complying. "What for?"

"Thanks," she said, stealing looks at me from time to time. As she continued to draw, she commanded, "Stop fidgeting!"

"I'm not..." I began, then the nickel dropped. "H-hey!" I blushed, poofing out. "Don't model it off of me! Draw a generic pony!"

"I am," she said, gesturing to the poster board with a levitated pencil. "See? No wings or horn."

"It's me de-winged," I complained, pointing a hoof at the mane style she'd sketched in. "I don't want to be on a poster!"

"Don't be such a baby," she smirked, continuing to draw. "You should be flattered."

As the cap was going on the last marker, Swift held up the poster. "There."

"Not bad," I said, with an impressed nod. It was actually quite professional-looking, with straight lines and clean text. "You're pretty damn decent for a 'doodler'."

"Thanks," Swift smiled. "I think the precision from the magic helps out a lot."

Jeff walked in, covered in grease and possibly a couple of singed patches where fur should have been. "Hey, are you two busy?"

"Ohmigod, what happened to you?" Swift gasped.

"Ah, it's nothin', just changed the oil on the truck," he said. "Fixed an exhaust leak and tightened up all the loose bits too. So. Busy?"

"We just finished the poster," I said, gesturing to it. "What's up?"

Jeff glanced at the board Swift was levitating and waving her hooves over like she was an equine Vanna White. "Oh! Very nice," he said, then blinked. "Is that a green earth pony you?" he asked me.

I just hung my head and sighed. Swift laughed and said, "She's embarrassed I drew her, even if I did a recolor."

"It looks great," Jeff said. "You should be proud!"

"What were you wanting?" I asked him, trying to change the subject.

"Oh! I want to take the truck out for a run, and we all never go out for a ride together. So let's all go for a rip."

I looked at Swift. "I'm in if you are," I said.

"Sounds good to me!" she grinned, setting down the poster and calling for Buddy.

The three of us were crowded into the cab - and crowded was perhaps an exaggeration; three ponies took up hardly as much room as three humans would. With one Dalmatian in the bed of the truck, we rolled out onto the road.

"See this?" Jeff shouted over the din of the motor. He gestured to a broomstick that was on the left side of the steering wheel, held in place with a bit of metal strapping on the lower part of the dash, and resting against the clutch pedal. "This lets you clutch-in with your foreleg." The other two pedals had large blocks of 2x4 lumber attached to them, much like a child would use on a tricycle. Or a pony in a non-adjustable car. "And you don't get as much pedal feel with these extenders in place, but you'll be able to reach them and still see over the dash."

"Not bad," Swift said from the passenger side of the cab, leaning partway over me to take in the modifications. "Though I would probably be able to do at least one thing with magic, so this is all for Stormy's benefit."

"Don't speak too soon," I shot back. "I haven't seen you handle two things at once in your magic yet."

"Oh! Challenge accepted," Swift laughed.

"Don't rack up my hard work, whatever you do," Jeff cautioned jokingly. He pointed to the steering wheel with a hoof, going on with his explanation. "I wanted to put a speed knob on the wheel to make it easier to turn one-hoofed, but there isn't one in Ponytown. I'll check some other auto shops next time I'm out on a run."

"Speed knob?" Swift asked.

I explained the device to her, then turned back to Jeff. "I don't know if there's a place redneck enough here to get that kind of thing. Just, if you find a place, don't get truck nuts," I laughed.

"Oh, I promise," he said, then pushed in the clutch, put the truck in neutral, and rolled to a stop.

"What're we doing?" Swift asked.

"Something I've always wanted to do," Jeff smiled. He gestured to the empty freeway before us - Highway 401, the main artery through Ontario, with nary a vehicle to be seen. He reached back behind me and unlatched, then slid, the rear window open. "Stormy, climb into the box."

"What? Why?"

"Just get out there," he said. "Get some fresh air."

With mild confusion, I wriggled through the window - almost a perfect fit, truth be told - and stood in the bed of the truck, alongside Buddy. "Okay?"

Jeff looked over his shoulder at me, smiling, and worked the clutch and the gearshift. "I kind of feel bad for this morning," he said. "I want to give you this as an apology."

"Give me wha-augh!" I began to ask, then yelped as I had to dance a little bit to keep my footing (hoofing?), as the truck lurched into motion.

Buddy was clearly smarter than me, or at least knew what was going on, and leaned up on the side rail of the bed, sticking his head out into the wind.

I finally figured it out, and put my forehooves on the headache rack, standing up so my head was in the wind above the cab. Looking down, I realized for the first time that the truck had a pop-up sunroof, which was open.

I must have looked bewildered, because Swift laughed and hollered up at me, "Do what comes natural, featherbrain!"

What comes natural? I wondered. Then it hit me at last. I was almost in 'the Batman pose', as Swift called it. And with Jeff keeping the accelerator pedal matted, with the truck hurtling down the freeway well north of the speed limit, I'd rarely experience wind as strong and as fast as this...

Out went the wings, and my senses were suddenly battered with a flood of information. The blast of air in my face and my feathers talked to me like it never had before, and it was saying "Oh wowwwwwww!".

With my head swimming in information and emotion, I somehow found presence of mind to try, just for a second, to flap my wings. Up and down, up and down, up and down. Surely at better than 100 miles an hour, even if I didn't know how to do it myself, aerodynamics should just take over, right?

I felt a little light in my hooves for a fraction of a second, and flapped furiously, but the sensation went away, like I was glued to the truck's roof.

I didn't even mind. I hooted and hollered and laughed, keeping my wings spread wide and lazily flapping in the wind, just feeling the sensation and enjoying the ride.

Comments

[Celefin]

You're at your very best when you write about powerful emotions, both negative and positive.
That juxtaposition of misery in the middle and elation at the end is perfect.
Hmm... and every time it feels as if the whole gender thing is done it pops up to great effect.
And their HPI strategy sounds very well thought out, it's also smoothly written.

Well worth the wait, this remains highly enjoyable.

[ThePrinceOfTheNorth]

"It's a Prius."

Now, if only you had a white dog that talks, who wears a red collar, and has a knack for drinking. (Surely you know of whom I speak.)

"I don't want to be on a poster!"

Better somepony real then somepony who doesn't exist, and Jeff's busy. Swift's drawing you, so....

[Starscribe]

Time to catch up. Still one of my favorite stories, and I think I was reminded why again this chapter. I feel like you've really tried (or if not tried, than succeeded inadvertently) to capture the spirit of the original. Survival might be important, but what really matters is the relationships between ponies, the love and the hate and their struggles. These ponies feel authentic. The feel like real people and they feel like ponies, and they're the central element to the story and you're doing it with prose instead of a journal. Great job on all counts, and I look forward to catching up on the rest of it, assuming I can stay awake long enough.

[CitrusWishes]

My favourite chapter so far. I love the character dynamics.

[bluemoon1996]

For that matter, maybe there was a Dr Freeman in there who fucked with somebody's casserole

I admit I wasn't expecting a half life reference XD

[Helium]

If i ever get good enough at drawing for it to be worth sharing i gotta remember to try and bring that last scene of this chapter to life. Its interesting how natural the flow of these chapters so far feels. Sometimes an entire chapter passes with relatively little happening except for life simply going forward. Its strangely relaxing to read to me.

[Amaponynoob]

So the signs their making have the main character on them, but now their a "green earth pony main character"?