Humans are strange creatures. Most beings do just about anything they can to keep themselves alive. Humans, on the other hand, will sometimes endanger themselves to protect others. Sadly, some of them, believing the world, their friends, and their family would be better off without them; or feeling that dealing with the world or the consequences of their actions isn't worth living; will go out of their ways to kill themselves. For these reasons, humans both fascinate and draw pity from me. I do all I can to protect the humans of the planet Terra. It's not your planet, although it is quite similar. I've wished for the longest time that I could do more for them, but sadly, I am restricted. I'm here to tell you the story of a human in whom I took a particular interest.
I stared at the creature. It seemed to be a canine made entirely out of wood. I recognized this lupine lumber pile, having seen its kind on a tv show about magical talking equines. As I stared at the timberwolf, I wondered why it was just sitting there, staring back at me. My morning had not been particularly pleasant, as I had awoken in an unfamiliar forest, and then been chased by a pack of these things.
"Thank you," I said to the wolf. "I don't know why you did that, but thank you." Just a few minutes before, this timberwolf, a small one at that, had chased away the pack that had been after me. As my body ran out of adrenaline, I realized two things. 1) This timberwolf had purple eyes, as opposed to the lime green that most of them do. (I made a mental note to wonder about that later.) 2) Timberwolves don't exist on Terra. There were creatures called "timber wolves," but those were probably unrelated. If I was currently looking at an actual timberwolf, either humans had made them and I was simply unaware, I was hallucinating or dreaming, or I had somehow landed myself somewhere other than Terra.
I immediately discarded the third possibility. The others may be unlikely, but that one was next to impossible. I scratched the timberwolf behind what I assumed was its ear, hoping to confirm or rule out hallucination. The wolf seemed to like it, and since I could feel it fairly plainly, I assumed "no" on hallucination. The next test I went for was the classic "pinch me" to see if I was dreaming. Far as that test could determine, I was not. 'So I'm probably looking at a genetically engineered wolf made of wood that I somehow didn't even know we were in the process of making.' The sheer absurdity of that hit me. 'You know what? That probably requires just as many assumptions and unlikely events as the alternative. I decided that it would be easier on my brain to just figure it out later. I could probably find some civilization if I tried, and then my questions would probably be answered. Of course, I didn't know much about the environment for certain, and what I did know was that there were more timberwolves out there. 'I am screwed on my own,' I realized. I turned to the wolf, which was looking at me with its mouth open and its tongue sticking out the side. Kinda like a dog. "I don't suppose you'd help me get out of the forest, would you?" I asked it.
The timberwolf immediately stood up. It was just tall enough to reach my shoulder. It turned around and walked off a bit. Then it turned its head to look back at me. I took a wild guess and assumed it wanted me to follow it, which I did.
It wasn't long before the timberwolf, who I had decided by then to refer to as "Jack," had led me to the edge of the forest. "Thanks, Jack," I said to him (I assumed it was a "him"), scratching behind his ear. I looked around. There was a fair-sized town in the distance, but it looked... it looked... "Ye Olde," I guess. It took me a second to recognize the town, and once I did, it took most of my willpower not to collapse from the combined excitement and disbelief.
"By Sunbutt's sunny butt... I really am here."
I will admit that when the Pink Party Pony of PowerTM suddenly dropped into existence beside me, yelling "Hi there!" at the top of her lungs, I was a bit startled. I will assert, however, that I did not respond by shouting "Sweet Celestia's Sun-Spangled Sflank!" or anything remotely similar.
Don't lie to the readers, Pete.
...
As I was saying, the P4's sudden appearance caught me off guard, and I may have responded in a way that was somewhat... embarrassing. And I may have jumped a bit. A lot. And landed face-up on the ground.
Once I landed, the P4 positioned herself so that her face was directly over mine, but upside-down from my perspective. "Hiya," she said. "I'm Pinkie Pie."
I blinked and tried to regain my composure. "Hey..." I wound up saying. "I'm Peter."
"Nice to meet'cha, Peter," she said with a huge grin on her face before turning to Jack. "And what's your name?" she asked him.
Obviously, Jack didn't say anything. "His name's Jack," I answered for him.
Pinkie scratched Jack behind the ear with her hoof. "Hi, Jack. Who's a cute little timberwolf?" She still had that huge grin. I would have expected her to at least be intimidated by Jack's presence. Then again, she was Pinkie Pie.
She was Pinkie Pie.
She was Pinkie Pie.
It was just about then that I hit my daily limit for "weird" and blacked out.