After millennia of slumber, the ponies of Tambelon have awoken. For good or ill, they set their sights on the surface.
Tapper noted with concern that it was an awfully solemn evening.
The ponies had found enough only enough supplies to make a small and drafty shelter for the young and elderly.
The plains clearly lacked enough wild game to sustain the herd and many adults had chosen to go hungry that evening.
One of the herd leaders, Thunderstruck, was mobbed by ponies in a mountainside town and whisked away. Rescuing her would take time.
Writ, Granite, and even Canary had allowed morale to fall, not that she could do any better
At least there was something to celebrate that evening...
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