> Roight, wot's all 'dis 'den? > by -Watcher- > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- > Chapter 1 - Animal Loicense? > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Today was a good day for Fluttershy. None of her animals were being fussy, not even with each other, and the sky was a marvelous cerulean. The clouds that did dot the sky were small, almost tiny, unnoticeable blobs of white and were almost swallowed by the warm light from above.  Her chores, which normally took her at least until noon, had been done by ten today, with the help of her little friends of course. The extra time allowed her some rare relaxation before heading to the preservation to check-up on how her new employees were doing. It was a surprise to her when Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon volunteered to help her with the preserve, but it was a welcome one. Those two worked so well with the animals that Fluttershy rarely spent as much time as she used to there. Angel even approved of them, which was probably the most surprising thing.  And so, after her daily visit, she found herself laying near the small, humble garden beside her cottage, basking in the sun’s comfort and letting the soft breeze carry her worries away. Today was a good day. The serenity of her moment was interrupted by her ears flicking toward a noise coming from in front of her. It was a distinct clicking noise, like something was contacting a hard stone repeatedly. Slowly, she noticed it getting closer.  Fluttershy furrowed her brow slightly, her thoughts suddenly flooding with worry. Tentatively, she opened one eye, wincing in preparation for whatever was disturbing the silence around her cottage.  Immediately, her eyes settled on a tall, two-legged figure approaching her at a brisk pace, arms folded behind it. She softened her expression considerably, a warm smile combing over the grimace.  After studying him for a brief moment, rose to her haunches and offered him a friendly wave of her hoof, which he immediately answered with a relaxed, two-fingered salute. He, too, was smiling a warm smile. It was Anon, and even though he seemed in a pleasantly happy mood, Fluttershy’s smile faltered just a little.  She had gotten a good look at him now, and cocking her head to the side, she noticed something. What in the world is he wearing? Before she could continue her thoughts, Anon had reached her.  “Good afternoon, mum. How ‘as the day been treatin’ ya so far?” he said, gripping the tip of his strange hat and nodding slightly.  For some reason, his smile unnerved her. It took her a few seconds to collect herself and focus on what he had just said. And how he said it. As her mind first truly heard what he had said, she found herself more and more confused. Realizing she had still yet to answer his question, she stumbled out, “I-it’s been fine, Anon. . . how, um. . . how about you?” She couldn’t help the incline in her voice. Though, if Anon had noticed, he didn’t show it. “Oh, it's been a roight ‘ole time fer myself, thanks fer askin’!” he said, a little too excitedly for Fluttershy’s liking. It didn’t help that she could hardly understand what he was saying. For a moment, she thought she should ask him to repeat what he had said, or to explain what he was wearing, or why he was here. All these questions would help her immensely, but she decided that pursuing the last one would be more appropriate. “That’s. . . um, good I think?” She paused, looking up to him to gauge if that was the right response. When he simply smiled and nodded, she continued, “So, um. . . what brings you here, Anon? Not that I don’t enjoy your company of course,” she quickly added. His confused expression at her question sent a bit of panic down her back, but it was quickly gone once he nodded in understanding.  “Oh, that’s roight, that’s roight. Where are my manners?” He stopped briefly to clear his throat before continuing, “Mum, I’m ‘ere to verify yer animal loicense.” If Fluttershy was confused before, she was completely lost now, and she did nothing to hide that. “M-my. . . excuse me, my what?” she said with as much confusion and complete non-understanding of the words spoken by Anon as she could muster.  He did not notice. “Yer animal loicense, mum,” Anon calmly said, his smile never moving and his eyes ever losing their luster.  That did nothing to help her. Sighing, Fluttershy thought for a moment before speaking.  “Anon,” she began softly, “What’s an ‘animal loicense’?” she asked, trying her best to mimic how he said the word.  For the first time since they had started talking, Anon’s smile faltered and his eyes hardened slightly.  “Mum, are you tellin’ me ‘hat you don’t ‘ave an animal loicense, ‘hat you don’t even know wot one is?” he said, fixing her with a strangely harsh stare that made her shrink slightly. She didn’t answer him right away, mainly because she couldn’t.  Looking down at her hooves, Fluttershy began sifting through what he could be wanting in her mind. She had never heard of a “loicense” for taking care of animals before, at least not in the way she was. She wasn’t profiting or anything from taking in animals or helping other ponies’ animals. She wasn’t even profiting from her semi-professional preserve, which did have an official decree of approval from Princess Celestia, though Fluttershy didn’t have documentation of such a decree at hoof. She had nothing to give him. She had nothing to give him. She had nothing to give him, and now she has to say that. To him.  The thought, for whatever reason, filled her with much more anxiety than she thought it should. It was like she was compelled to feel anxious, even if it was over something she was pretty sure wasn’t even a thing.  She tried to shake off the feeling, but it wouldn’t leave her. Somehow, she squeaked out a, “No,” which only made Anon shake his head in his seemingly infinite disapproval.  She shrank down even more, her eyes moving to his shoes, which were solid black and polished to a sheen.  How did those click in the grass? Anon cleared his throat, and Fluttershy looked up to meet his eyes as he spoke. “‘Hat’s a shame, mum, a roight shame. Gonna ‘ave ta wroight you up fer this,” Anon said, summoning a notepad and pen out of nowhere, which only confused Fluttershy more. Finding her voice, Fluttershy began to ask what he meant by that, but Anon cut her off with a hand. “No, no, you won’t be convincin’ me otherwise, I’m afraid.” He paused to write down something on the pad before speaking again, “Whelp, ‘hat’s all I ‘ad fer you. Should be gettin’ a loicense soon, though. Proices get steeper after the first one, mum.”  Before she could ask what he meant (again), he tore off a page from the notepad and held it in front of Fluttershy’s muzzle. Reluctantly, she took in her teeth, before grabbing it with her hooves to read it.  For what felt like the thousandth time today, Fluttershy cocked her head in confusion. She looked up to find that Anon had already started walking away, his shoes impossibly clicking on the grass.  “Good day, mum,” he called, not turning his head, his hands clasped behind as he strode away. Fluttershy would have said goodbye, but her mouth was hung open, dazed by what had just occurred. The grass shifted beside her, and she looked to find Angel hopping up to her foreleg.  Turning toward Anon’s form just disappearing over the hill, she finally murmured, “What just happened?” It was all she could think of to ask. She looked at the paper once more and another question came to mind. She turned to Angel, who was tapping her foreleg.  “Do you know what a ‘1,000 pounds’ means, Angel?” Her companion only offered a shrug in response. Fluttershy looked to the sky, closed her eyes, and took a long breath.  It wasn’t even 1:30.  Today was a weird day for Fluttershy. > Chapter 2 - Business Loicense > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Today was a busy day for Rarity.  To start her off for the day, she was awoken—rudely she might add—by an infernal racket from downstairs. She had risen prematurely from her bed, mane and tail completely disheveled from what had been a disappointingly pitiful night of “sleep,” to find that her sister and company were helping some poor filly by the sounds of it. Somewhere along the way, she observed it to be dreadfully early for this sort of thing.  How early? Too damn early, that’s how early. At least, that is what she had said to herself. The sun had yet to even crest the horizon, its rays just starting to weakly jut from it.  So, yeah, too damn early. After she had ushered the all-too-excited fillies outside to find a more appropriate environment for such activities, Rarity had gone through her normal morning routine.  First, shower. Next, brush mane and tail. Third, add color to mane and tail and remember not to add too much as to not attract suspicion. Getting older, Rarity had found herself graying prematurely. Of course, prematurely for her was anytime in her life because gray was too gray. Fourth, make a small breakfast. Fifth, get to work on the day’s specific tasks.  Though she wouldn’t admit it, today had been the perfect day to have been up this early. Today, she had been due for a visit to her Canterlot division, something that she had cursed herself for scheduling the minute she remembered it. She was extremely behind on orders, especially by her standard, and the trip would be making her delay said orders even more.  The three-hour train ride had been painfully dull, as usual. Rarity would have asked for company, but none of her friends were available. With Applejack running the farm, Dash spending most of her time with the Wonderbolts, Pinkie being Pinkie, Fluttershy not liking Canterlot, and Twilight being, well, Princess of the country, Rarity had not been surprised to have to make the journey alone. That didn’t improve her opinion on making the trip alone, of course. Thankfully, the shop had been running perfectly fine, as was expected. No major concerns with anything had shown, and business was as good as any other time.  With the recent growth in Equestria’s population of more diverse creatures, Rarity had expanded her shops’ horizons a bit, hoping to include more and more creatures in the world of clothing and, by extension, to Equestria. As such, business was honestly the best it had ever been, and not just in Canterlot.  This had all contributed to a very short visit, which hadn’t disappointed Rarity in the slightest. She was in Canterlot for all of maybe an hour tops before she was back on the train for Ponyville. Recent increases in the need for transportation due to Equestria’s sudden boom in population had made catching train rides much, much easier. It also made it cheaper, which did wonders for Rarity’s mood. Rarity was back in Ponyville before noon, which had left plenty of time for her to catch up on orders.  Unfortunately, upon arriving at her shop, Rarity had found that she forgot to buy supplies while in Canterlot. Normally, she would shrug this off and just purchase material from the local outlets. One had to support the community, after all.  However, this time she lacked something that even the growing hub that was Ponyville didn't have: Dragonhide. Now, though this sounds like a totally barbaric and horrid fabric, it really wasn’t all that bad. It was made from donated dragon scales that were shed, polished, and woven into a glittering beauty that made even Rarity overlook the somewhat disgusting origins.  The revelation had wiped the positive attitude from Rarity’s demeanor faster than Pinkie Pie could say “cherry chimichanga” 100 times fast.  The dress needed to be ready by tomorrow for a particular fitting for a wedding dress for a wedding that the town had been waiting for forever since the two ponies moved in with each other as “roommates.” Missing this was absolutely out of the question for Rarity.  And so, after finishing her other orders to what she would have called “barely passable,” Rarity had boarded yet another train to Canterlot. This trip was even shorter than the last, but it left Rarity drained beyond belief. Though she enjoyed the city and its residents, one can only endure so many posh, self-absorbed ponies saying excuse you when it had clearly been them who had caused a collision of two parties before one snaps. By the time Rarity had purchased the dress materials, allowing herself to stock-up fully, she was one snarky comment from going off. Her usually peppy step was gone, replaced with a lazy gait that allowed her hooves to drag a little. Her mane and tail were frizzy, ends sticking out at random. Her normally bright smile and welcoming eyes were shrouded in tiredness, irritation, and stress. Thankfully, this seemed to convey to the others that she was not one to be bothered at the moment, making the second walk through the city much more manageable. The train ride was abnormally quiet. She did not engage in her usual small talk. In reality, she hardly even approached another soul. She hardly saw anyone else. This did not bother Rarity, not even a little. She spent the ride dozing and just generally trying to think about anything else other than work and how much she thought Canterlot was full of asinine, rude ponies.  Rarity appreciated the silence. And so, there she was: hard at work in her shop, slaving over this utterly ridiculous yet stunning dress that she had gone through hell for. Well, “hell” in the sense that she enjoyed very little about what she went through to get here.  As she worked, Rarity found her thoughts wandering, as they normally did during her process. Many questions were asked inside her mind. Why in the world did Lyra want a Dragonhide dress? Why were her sister and her friends up so damn early? Why in the world did Lyra want a Dragonhide dress? Who the hell is knocking at her door? By the time Rarity had actually thought about that last one, the knocking had become more urgent. Her eye twitched, and she felt a migraine settling in for the night.  Lovely, she thought as she rose from the middle of her work to answer the door with the goal of not strangling the poor sod who awaited her. Surprisingly, it was a thought that was more tempting than Rarity had figured it would be. Coming to the door, Rarity took a deep breath and rubbed her temple gently. She then opened the door. What stood before Rarity in that moment irreversibly pushed her thoughts of strangling and dressmaking to the farthest reaches of her fatigue-ridden mind. It was Anon, dressed in what Rarity could only assume was an officer’s outfit. Her eyes traced him from his impossibly polished shoes all the way to his perfectly placed hat.  Rarity’s eye twitched. She gawked for what seemed an eternity before Anon cleared his throat and spoke, a brightness in his eyes and kindness in his voice. “‘Ello, mum. ‘As the evenin’ been treatin’ you alroight?” Rarity’s eyes widened and the right one twitched again. She said nothing. “Mum? Are you alroight? You seem ta be lookin’ a bit. . . uh, pale. Yeah, ‘hats the roight word, I think.” Anon’s voice, as strange and different as it was, had an unmistakable concern woven into it that Rarity almost found endearing. Almost. Snapping out of her stupor, Rarity shook her head and massaged her temple once more. She cleared her throat. “Oh, yes, my apologies, Anon. It has been a rather long day, and I apologize for my rudeness. Please, come in,” she said, ushering the man in with a welcoming hoof. Anon seemed to beam at the invitation as he accepted the offer and walked into the messy boutique. The clicks made by his shoes seemed to echo endlessly off of the rather small, cramp walls of the shop, which made Rarity pause once more as she watched him enter. As Anon studied his surroundings with a bemused half-grin, Rarity continued to massage her temple as she closed the door. “So, Anon, for what do I owe the pleasure of your visit this evening?” Rarity tried to hide the tiredness and edge in her voice, but she felt her efforts were, frankly, horrid.  If Anon noticed anything, he didn’t show it. His eyes scanned the room with a sort of confusion, like he wasn’t sure why he was here all of a sudden. Rarity thought she saw a flicker of fear, but it was quickly shoved aside by a blanket of calm and professionalism that unnerved Rarity. In the end, her question seemed to only catch him off-guard.  Rarity found herself suddenly troubled by her friend’s demeanor, her edged gaze softening with concern. Anon blinked for a moment before answering, “Ah, ‘hats roight, mum. Pardon me, it's my first day on the job. A bit scatterbrained, as it were it seems.” Anon paused to grip the tip of his hat and chuckle to himself. “It would seem yer my last stop fer the day, mum. Just ‘ere to verify yer business loicense, is all, mum.”  As he spoke, he looked to Rarity with a bright, warm smile. His eyes seemed to be a little strained, but other than that, Rarity could find no foul play in them. Anon wasn’t the pranking sort, anyway, so she let herself relax a little. For some reason, Rarity felt her concern ebb a little as she focused on Anon’s words. Or rather, how his words were spoken. Anon’s voice was never this professional or intriguing. In fact, the man’s speech often was a little vulgar and eccentric to Rarity. This was doubly so now that she could compare it to the sounds that flowed from Anon’s mouth now. To top it off, he did look rather nice in such a spiffy uniform. The more Rarity thought about it, she rather liked whatever change Anon had decided to make.  She would have to ask Dash why in the world Ponyville’s department had such a strange outfit later. She would also have to ask since when did Ponyville’s department start verifying licenses so close to the last verification.  For now, Rarity simply smiled back at Anon. “Of course, Anon. That’s no trouble at all. Please, have a seat while I fetch it for you, darling.” Anon nodded gratefully as he sat down next to one of the many mannequins that filled the main shop floor.  Rarity was oddly filled with energy. Anon positively radiated, well, positivity. It certainly seemed he was adjusting rather well to his life here, and Rarity couldn’t help but smile to herself at the thought as she ascended the steps to retrieve her certificate. Her dear friend had such a rough time at the start, and it broke her and her other friends’ hearts to see such a kind creature go through so much heartache. Pushing those thoughts from her mind, Rarity went to the wall that held her framed certificate. “Certificate of Ownership” was embedded atop the document, golden trim lining each letter. Signatures of the then Princess Celestia and Mayor Mayor gracefully written in the lower corner.  Grasping the document, frame and all, in her magic, Rarity made her way back downstairs to Anon.  Upon reaching the doorway to the stairs and shutting the door, Rarity met Anon’s gaze. “Well, here we are, darling. Sorry for the wait,” Rarity said as she began moving the frame towards Anon. As he went to grab it, Rarity cut her magic off, letting the frame fall into his grasp. Anon briefly studied the document before letting out a content sigh, seemingly relieved. “Ah, ‘his looks properly well, mum. Everythin’ seems ta be in orda ‘ere.” He looked up from the document to meet Rarity’s eyes. “‘his looks a might fancier ‘han most other ponies’ loicenses, mum,” he said teasingly.  “Oh, well, I just spruced it up a bit is all,” Rarity said, feeling her cheeks burn slightly. “I hope that isn’t an issue?”  “Oh, not at all, not all, mum. The most important parts are still legible, an’ it don’t seem ta be fabricated. Just a bit of jestin’ on my part is all, mum,” Anon said, offering the frame to Rarity. “Well, ‘hats all I ‘ad fer ya. I best be on my way now.” Rarity smiled, and was about to walk him to the door before she hesitated.  As Anon rose, that confusion and fear seemed to take hold in his eyes again before once more being dispelled by something. Rarity found herself unnerved once more. Her sudden stop in their walk to the door gave Anon pause. “Mum, everything’ alroight? Ya seem troubled,” he said with a tad more concern than the first time. Rarity looked to him, her concern once more ebbing as an idea came to her.  “Oh, yes, Anon. I am quite alright, but. . .” she hesitated a moment, mulling over how to say her next words before blurting out, “Are you off now, Anon?” Her question caught both of them by surprise. Anon’s eyebrows rose, Rarity’s cheeks burned more. An awkward moment passed between them before Anon spoke, “I believe so, mum,” he began, a wariness in his voice, “Why do ya ask?” “Well,” Rarity began, composing herself as she walked up to Anon, “I was thinking.” She turned to place the framed document on a nearby table. “I have had a dreadfully long day, and it seems you have been under some similar circumstances yourself.” Rarity paused to look up to Anon, who still held his wary expression, but it seemed to be softening a tad.  “As such,” Rarity continued with a little more confidence, “I would find it terribly impolite of me to not offer you some sort of respite in the form of some tea with a friend,” she finished with an ever-growing smile.  Anon stared at her for a moment, his concern—which Rarity thought was borderline suspicion—not wavering. A moment passed, and Rarity began to worry her invitation was a little too much, though she certainly couldn’t see why it would be. Tea with a friend is a go-to for remedying a long day.  Before she could bring herself to take back the invitation, Anon’s eyes softened and his smile returned in full. “If I may be honest, mum?” Rarity waited for him to continue before realizing he was literally asking for permission and nodding her head. “I think that sounds like the perfect way to end my day, mum.” Rarity practically beamed in response. It had been so long since her last chat with Anon over some tea, and it looked as though both of them needed such a chat. With her other duties left forgotten, Rarity guided Anon to the kitchen to prepare the tea, content and excitement plain on their faces. Today was a nice day for Rarity.  > Chapter 3 - Strange Mornings > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Pinkie Pie was confused. It was eight in the morning, and Sugar Cube Corner was filled with the sights and smells of all sorts of treats and drinks and just all around tasty goodness. Each item brought with it a distinct, enticing scent that wafted throughout the main dining hall of the restaurant and bakery, working to rouse sleepy customers in time for the workday.  The warm summer sun shone through the windows of Sugar Cube Corner, basking the dining hall in a glorious amber light that did wonders for drowsiness. Though it was often a little bright for Pinkie’s tastes, she found it welcoming and warming all the same.  All of these things were completely normal, so Pinkie doubted it was this that was confusing to her. She had triple-checked the breakfast goods to make sure nothing was wrong with them. Once more, she concluded that this brought no source of the unease that troubled her.  The furniture, windows, and even the shingles on the roof were all inspected carefully by the eccentric pink pony, only to find that nothing about the air or building quelled her growing unease. As such, the party crazy pony reasoned, it wasn’t something that was bothering her. No, the only explanation was that someone was bothering her, which only worked to confuse the poor mare even more. Pinkie Pie loved ponies. And not just ponies; she loved everyone, be they yaks, griffons, minotaurs (when they weren’t magic-eating meanies), or changelings. There was simply no reason anyone should be bothering her this much, especially since there was only one other in the dining hall with her. In a booth near the front of the hall sat a single man. This man was dressed in a fancy black outfit that Pinkie didn’t recognize, and he took short, quick sips of his beverage of choice—earl grey with a generous amount of milk and sugar. Pinkie wasn’t much of a tea drinker, but the way he held his tea made her think he valued it more than life itself. It was like he used the drink for support, for a way to ground himself. He held the cup with both hands as if he was afraid to drop it at any moment. Each time he raised it to his lips, he closed his eyes slowly, seemingly basking in the swirl of flavors between his hands. Pinkie imagined each drink would stir a content sigh from the man before he returned the mug to the tabletop and cast his eyes out the window to watch the world outside. This cycle repeated over and over again. This, by itself, would never even be noticed by Pinkie Pie. Many of her customers went through the same process every day with coffee or tea or many other kinds of drinks. It was such a common occurrence that it was all but ignored by Pinkie most days. This . . . this was not most days.  For one, the man had been doing this ritual for over half-an-hour now. Even from her perch at the counter, Pinkie could tell the man had long since run out of his tea. Even still, the man continued to “sip” on his nonexistent tea. Another thing that bothered Pinkie was that she recognized the man. It was Anon, and if Pinkie knew anything about Anon, it was that the man despised tea. Though not a fan of it herself, Pinkie never even considered saying half of the things Anon said about tea. Among the most confusing to Pinkie had been, “It’s just ground-up leaves and dirt with boiling water,” and Pinkie had found that strange. Anon was a big fan of coffee, and that was just as similar to “leaves and dirt.” Anon even called it “dirty bean juice,” which made Pinkie dislike coffee even more than she already had. So, to see Anon so infatuated with what Pinkie assumed to be his nemesis was confusing to her.  Yet another thing was how he spoke. Pinkie Pie prided herself on being able to read and understand people better than most could. It was something that had helped in many many times in her line of work, and she had yet to meet someone she failed to understand or communicate reasonably with (animals didn’t count, that was Fluttershy’s thing). That was until this morning when Anon walked in calling her “mum” and asking for whatever the heck “black pudding” was.  Pinkie Pie wasn’t a mom, at least she didn’t think she was. She had immediately thought of every possible scenario that would have led to her being a mom without her knowledge and came up with nothing. That comment alone sent her into a moment of panic that she barely was able to brush off as tiredness when Anon asked her why she was staring at him.  That didn’t even factor in the blank that she drew when he started asking for dyed pudding. Who the heck would dye pudding black? Maybe he meant chocolate pudding? Who has chocolate pudding for breakfast? Thankfully, he was satisfied with the tea and left to sit alone, but Pinkie was still recovering from the mental onslaught that she had endured in the span of two minutes.  None of this was what had her worried, though. She had endured way worse with her friends and their exploits around Equestria to be truly bothered by confusing lingo and strange ways of talking. It was when Anon wasn’t drinking his not-tea that worried Pinkie. Every time he lowered the mug and looked out the window, Pinkie felt her tummy shift, her eyes twitch, and her mane sniffle.  Pinkie had no idea what that meant, but she felt that it was really, really important to whatever was going on with her friend.  Anon didn’t drink tea, he didn’t dress all fancy, he didn’t call people mom, and he most certainly didn’t eat pudding that was dyed black! No one does that! This whole thing made no sense to Pinkie Pie, and she was really good at making sense of no sense making things.  Pinkie hadn’t moved a muscle in the forty-five minutes it had been since Anon sat down. No other customers had arrived, leaving Pinkie free to stare at her friend and worry. There was an emptiness in his eyes every time he looked out that window that made Pinkie’s tummy turn and kept her rooted in place. For some reason, Pinkie had a strange instinct that told her not to approach him. And so, she sat at the register across the room from Anon and stared intently at him, beads of sweat slowly rolling down the side of her face. Pinkie’s first movement was the twitching of her ears as Anon turned to grab his fancy hat. He rose from his seat and smiled brightly toward Pinkie as he placed the fancy hat on his head. “Thanks fer the tea, mum. Smashin’ stuff, that. ‘Ave a good one, mum. Cheers!” he said as he placed something on the table next to his mug and strode through the doors to Sugar Cube Corner.  For the first time in almost an hour, Pinkie allowed herself to relax and exhale a breath that she hadn’t realized she was holding. She chastised herself for not at least saying goodbye. For shame, Pinkie, for shame, she said inwardly and vowed to make it up to him later.  Pinkie Pie absently grabbed a cloth from underneath the counter and moved to clean Anon’s table. As she reached the table, she found three strange-looking bits next to the mug. Well, Pinkie assumed they were bits, but she had never seen one quite like these before. They weren’t as heavy as normal bits, and they had a silvery center. A strange image of the head of someone that looked like Anon with a crown was minted in the center along with the words “one pound.” It was then a familiar unicorn burst through the doors, startling Pinkie Pie before she could be confused again.  “Pinkie! I’m glad you’re here,” the unicorn almost screamed, gasping for breath. “Bon Bon is making me go around and check if things are going well with the whole wedding business because she isn’t feeling well,” the new pony said excitedly. “Obviously, I thought it would be most appropriate to check on the most important part first: the CAKE!” Pinkie simply stared at the unicorn for a few moments before her eyes lit up as she remembered. “Lyra, you silly filly, you almost gave me a heart attack,” Pinkie said, feigning disapproval and giggling, “But I’ll forgive you since you know that CAKE is the most important feature of any party, even a wedding.” That made Lyra smirk and roll her eyes. “Come on back, I’ll show you what I was thinking!” And with that, Pinkie bounced across the floor as she led Lyra to the kitchen, completely forgetting about the strange morning she had just experienced.