You sit up on your chair, watching your little menace play as innocently as it gets for her. Poor Sir Bearington gets slammed into the ground by his feet then she violently swings him around before leaping up onto the couch to finish him off with a piledriver. Moonie leaps up onto her hind legs with her forehooves spread out, as if she's proudly showing off for a crowd.
"What?" Moonie defensively asks with a nervous laughter.
"Nothing, it's just interesting watching you play sometimes."
Now you've grabbed her attention as she leaves Sir Bearington a defeated heap and moves closer to your chair.
"How so?"
"I dunno," you shrug, "It's almost as if you're not like twenty times my age."
Moonie's face scrunches up at your remark.
"And how exactly is a millennia-old immortal supposed to play?"
"You know what I mean, stop trying to pick a fight."
"Pick a fight?" An overly offended Moonie barks, the tiniest hint of a smile peers out from the corners of her mouth, "I'm not trying to start a fight, you are!"
Now you lean back in silence and flick your book back open to the bookmarked page. Moonie, however, is not finished with you. She leaps up onto your lap and pushes the book away from your face.
"Yes?" You remark calm, feigning ignorance.
"You never answered my question," giggles Moonie.
You let out a brief sigh as you now know she's not letting go of this for some reason. For a moment, you wonder if she's offended by that remark about her age or if she's really just out to start conflict to amuse herself. But it's clearly the latter, it's always the latter with her.
"Normally, at least with humans, they muck about less when they get older--"
"Please, you're like a hundred and you still play with me."
"Well, that's different."
"How?"
"I have the maturity of an eight-year-old human. Nobody taught me to grow up."
"I don't know how humans mature with age or anything about you freakazoids," she scrunches her.
"Freakazoids?"
"Yeah, cause you're weird."
You laugh and let the topic die out, but Moonie remains seated. Her attention remains fixed on you as she gives you a look you've seen a million times before, she wants you to entertain her. Her hooves pad your lap and her eyes are beady with expectation.
"Speaking of not knowing anything, what was Equestria like a thousand years ago."
"Boring."
"That doesn't answer my question."
"Well, I don't know what is you're probing for."
"I'm not sure. I'm only asking out of general curiosity. What did people do, what did the place look like, how did they speak, and so on and so forth."
Moonie takes a moment to ponder your questions before slowly replying, "They did the same things I guess. I never left Canterlot at the time but that place has barely aged, except for the cafes really. As for how they spoke, that was always really funny."
"How so? Any funny words?"
"Everyone always spoke loudly because Luna did it, with lots of thy's and thou's."
"Like the days of Shakespeare pretty much."
"Who?"
"Famous writer back in the human world."
"Oh... How come you never told me any of his stories?"
"I'm willing to butcher stuff from movies and books, but not people like Shakespeare."
Moonie cocks an eyebrow at you but eventually shrugs and rolls her eyes at you before continuing.
"I can't really think of any funny words... It was more just how people spoke that was funny."
"Ah... Okay."
"Though there seem to be a few words I liked that are now gone."
"Like?"
Moonie leaps down from your lap and grabs Sir Bearington. She tugs and pulls at his limbs as she thinks to herself.
"Asunder was a great one. I think I've heard it once or twice, but I'm not sure on that."
"Asunder?"
"Yeah, like to put or tear apart. To be torn ASUNDER!"
"Heh, right. Of course you like that one."
"OH! Bibliopole was a funny one."
You let out a brief chuckle as it sounds almost like she stuttered and repeated a syllable there, but it might also just be the word.
"And that is?"
"A book merchant."
"Huh. Neat."
"Periapt, which is an amulet. Scaramouch, which is both a coward and a braggat. Egad, you'd use that to exclaim surprise pretty much. There's desiderate, Oh, yonder was another I liked. You use it like "over there," to wander over yonder."
She awkwardly rocks to herself for a moment then freezes when you speak.
"What's desiderate?"
"Desiderate?"
"Yeah."
She pauses and makes a few popping noises with her mouth.
"Well, I'd use it in reference to you."
"Like a guardian or caretaker?"
"No, it's a verb."
"Oh, okay. What's it mean?"
"Actually, that was an awkward way to describe it. Forget it, I don't really remember what it means."
"Are you serious?"
"Yep. Leaving it at that," she bellows and she scampers to her room.
"Guess I'll have to ask the princesses one day," you mumble to yourself.