“Come One Come All
To the Donnybrook Fare!
O’er where?
The Donnybrook Fare!
Come One Come All
To the Donnybrook Fare!
A Gryphon Affair
The Donnybrook Fare!
In Griffonstone a-Fair
The Donnybrook Fare!
A-claw! A-paw!
A-wing in th’ Aire!
All are welcome a-Donnybrook Fare!
In Sky o’blue and Fields o’green
Games are had
Food and Fun a plenty!
Make your feathers a-preen’d
Meet Friends a-many!
The Donnybrook Fare!
With Princesses pair
From Moon rise to Sun down
Gather all ‘round
Alicorns most fair!
Eat! Make merry!
Come now Don’t terry!
The Sight a-worthy to Stare!
Come One Come All
To the Donnybrook Fare!”
“Wasn’t the fare outlawed?” Twilight looked up from her book, brows knitting in thought. “Something about riots, right?”
“Indeed!” Princess Luna flashed a brilliant smile, her ink-whetted quill flicking over the parchment held up in her magical grip. “It was an amazing spectacle every year. In truth, it did get out of hoof at times. But Gryphonian liquor does have that effect on me.”
“I don’t think you’re supposed to be proud of that, Luna.” Twilight stretched her wings out, working some feeling into her back before pushing herself to her hooves. “The gryphons still use ‘donnybrook’ as a slang term to mean any large brawl or angry sort of flock. Now, that part, you should be proud of.”
Twilight shook herself, resettling her coat and feathers while she reshelved her book at the same time. They were in her personal library at her Ponyville castle, going over some of her newest historical acquisitions, when Luna took the sudden interest in writing an archaic Crier’s Bark about a centuries old, defunct fare. “Your iambic verse structure is all over the place, by the way.”
“It is not poetry.” Luna smirked, tilting the parchment slightly to examine her quill work. “It’s marketing. It is meant to evoke curiosity in all who listen.”
“It’ll certainly make anypony that hears it wonder who thought it was a good idea.”
Luna lowered the paper to glare over it at Twilight. “Har har. It has been a long time since I’ve done this. Barking is a lost art.”
“Try telling that to the Diamond Dogs. Some nights I can’t even get a few minutes of sleep before they wake me up over and over again.” Twilight returned Luna’s glare playfully. “Not sure why they do it either. That old wives tale about them howling at the Moon is hogwash, according to science.”
Twilight’s playful glare morphed into an equally playful smirk as she got closer to Luna and took the scroll away from the Princess. “I’m the only one that gets to sing the praises of your moon anyway.”
Twilight looked over Luna’s writing, tracing the flowing calligraphy that the Princess had created on the fly with her eyes. The older stylistic trappings re-enforced the archaic feel of the content, but it was perfectly readable and pleasing to her modern Equestrian sensibilities. When she looked back up, however, Luna’s expression was flat. The Princess’ eyes locked on something in the middle distance rather than the impatient artist waiting for a snarky review of her creation.
Twilight cleared her throat awkwardly. “I am...right? The only one that sings…?”
Luna turned away, her cheeks growing dark under her fur. She mouthed the words, ‘old wives tale’ to herself.
“Wait wait wait! You don’t just get to turn away from that, Luna!” Twilight laughed nervously, pacing in time with Luna’s slow rotation to never leave the Princess’ sight. “Diamond Dogs don’t really howl at the Moon...so you can’t imply that the old saying is from them singing the praises of your...oh c’mon! Stop trying to turn away from me!”
Luna stopped where she was, making eye contact with Twilight for a second before quickly looking away again. She gathered herself, breathing in deeply through her nose before holding up her hooves in defense.
“Look, Twi...I’m not not saying there is a kernel of truth in that saying. But the world was very different in ancient times.”