You wake up fully rested and eager to seize the day... in the early evening, and it's finally stopped raining. Everyone around you are still sort of hibernating through the crappy weather, so you decide to do your host a favor by making dinner for everyone. After a refreshing shower, you tiptoe your way to the pantry and dig a plateful of seeds out of a sack to fill in the feeders for the birds, along with some strawberries, grapes, apples and oranges to slice into a large bowl of fruit salad for the bigger animals(mainly rodents, and of course the pony). Preparing all of this takes about ten minutes of your times total. And everyone's still snoring. You roll your eyes and sneak back to your cot, making sure not to step on Sweetheart's wings and hooves, all splayed about. For a creature obsessed with being as inconspicuous as possible, she has somehow covered over half of your bear-sized cot. You sit down against the brick wall of the oven and can't help, but sneak a peek at the cute pegasus as she sleeps, her usually tidy pink mane frizzy and running down her face.
There was something comforting in the idea that even though these creatures clearly matched you in intelligence, they still possessed certain animalistic properties, such as enhanced loyalty to those they've claimed as one of their own and a far more intricate usage of body language. They certainly had a knack for making you feel wanted, even cared for. During that brief moment when Luna had done that... weird Vulcan mind meld thing with you, you'd even sensed it, that herd mentality, the need to stay close and support one another. Even their shepherds, the Princesses, were not alone. It was a far cry from the human pack mentality of judging one's value based on one's abilities and capacity to benefit themselves.
Only now you realised that Luna must've been able to sense your perpective as well. Hoo boy. You must've come across like the ultimate ass. Wait, no... these guys got reptiles as their butlers. What am I saying? They're probably trying to domesticate the shit outta me. "Doing a pretty good job too." You say out loud and poke Sweetheart on the nose, causing her to sniff a couple of times before smacking her mouth. "Wakey-wakey, Sweetheart. Dinner time." No reaction.
Time to bring out the heavy artillery. Without further ado, you place your hands on her sides and start running your fingers over her barrel in rapid fashion. Immediately, Sweetheart lets out an involuntary snicker in her sleep and starts kicking aimlessly with her hind hooves. You can't resist also poking at her usually slicked down chest tuft and puffing it up a little, making the little pony look even more crazed. Finally, her eyes snap open and she sits up straight so fast that you were worried about her spine. A crushed bunny drops out of her wings and staggers away.
Sweetheart blinks and then focuses on you. She squints. You gulp.
With a flap of her wings, the pegasus springs towards you before you can even twitch and latches herself onto you, gripping your neck with one hoof and rubbing the top of your head with the other. In short, she's giving you the noogie of your life and judging from the quiet, excited neighs, she's probably also giving an Oscarworthy maniacal speech. You let her have her moment of victory, but then she freezes, and only her ears twitch and turn towards the door.
Then you hear it too. Quiet whinnying sounds and the very gentlest of knocks on the door. Sweetheart quickly releases her hold on you and flies in front of the wall mirror. The bunny, already on the move, grabs a brush from the bathroom and tosses it to you. You quickly run it through Sweetheart's mane and do your best to correct the damage sleep has done to her whilst the pegasus checks her wings and then looks back towards you expectantly. You turn to the bunny, who stands ready with pencil and paper.
"Wings-check-mane-check-chest tuft..." you whisper as the bunny checks everything off the list. "-now check. Okay, she's good."
5 seconds after hearing the knocking, Sweetheart slowly opens the door in perfect condition to reveal a grim-looking Apple Buttocks and a cheerful-looking pink filly you've never seen before. To your surprise, this one actually has one of those strange butt tattoos. You've been wondering about those. Do they get them after a rite of passage or something? In any case, the filly makes an O-face as she looks up to you. She soon snaps out of it though, and whinnies something to Sweetheart, pointing at you. The pegasus bites her lip, considering something. This is followed by sharp neighing from Apple Buttocks, who seems to give you the evil eye, though you've no idea why(note to self: pears are the way to go from now on). Meek as ever in the presence of anyone outside of the ones living in her cottage, Sweetheart takes a step behind you and then pokes at your back with her snout, pushing you forward.
The pink filly snaps onto your hand with her teeth, though not enough to hurt you and start pulling you out of the cottage. As you are dragged away, you look back towards home with an uncertain look, but Apple Buttocks shuts the door behind you with her tree-smashing legs. Yikes. You are almost happy now that you don't understand them as it meant avoiding whatever beef is going on entirely. Playing with a filly instead seems far preferable, yep.
She really is a cute widdle thing though, with her mane of orchid purple dashed with white and that delightful, tiny gem-encrusted tiara perfectly perched on her head. The only thing that gives you pause really is the ferocity in those piercing blue eyes, as if getting you to where you are going is her absolute goal in life at this moment.
It turns out, that place of universal importance is the town's playground, which you'd pointedly avoided until now so as not to frighten any parents or heck, the kids themselves. The little filly, on the other hand, has no compunctions over leading you straight in. You see her wave her hoof at another fancy-looking filly with a pearl necklace, grey fur and a fine, silvery braided mane. Also glasses. You didn't even know ponies could wear those. The filly with the spoon tattoo waves back and trots nearer to bump butts together with the pink filly in some girly secret handshake thing, before pointing at you and winking for some reason.
As if their minds were made up on something, they both turn to look directly at you with identical lidded smirks, knowing full well you have no idea what just transpired.
Danger, danger, Will Robinson...