The town of Orkneigh was like many others on the Griffish Isles. Situated on the coastline of Long Mane Bay, the town had grown as a fishing village, well known for both the fish they caught for the bat ponies, pegasi, griffins, and other non-pony races as well as the kelp and other sea-greens that town harvested. All this was mostly only done during the summer, however, as Long Mane Bay tended to freeze over during the winter months.
However, along the outskirts of the town, there lay a single remote fishing shack tucked between some nearby woods and the bay. Its appearance might not seem out of place right now, given the fact that this very evening was Sonnhalt. Driftwood was pressed against the walls, giving the appearance they were the only thing holding them up. The rafters, those which weren't rotten and falling down, were draped with still salty and soggy seaweed. A fishing net draped over the banister of her front porch, its small buoys actually weighing it down against the cool sea breeze. Had night already fallen, the flame of the nearby lighthouse would occasional coat the small shack in dancing light as it made its circuit.
Many would think that this run-down looking shack was abandoned. In truth, however, it was home to a single young mare named Silken Farraige. Silken was a earth pony mare, standing slightly taller that most other mares while not quite as tall as the likes of the model Fleur de Lis. Her mane was a pale shade blue-green, while her fur was a deep gray. Upon her flank lay a cutie mark of a seal playing under an iceberg. When asked, Silken would often claim that her special talent was simply being one with the open waters that surrounded their home.
Silken began her afternoon like just about any other pony of Equestria, with a yawn and a stretch as she hopped out of bed onto her four hooves. While the Lunar Regency never dictated a shift to a nocturnal lifestyle, many in Equestria still tended towards doing so, especially on major festivals. She combed out her long, silken mane that was considered by many of the town to be her namesake, before sitting down for a simple breakfast of oats and toast.
Silken considered staying in tonight, as she did most nights. But, hardly anyone ever ventured this far away from Orkneigh. As such, no foals would likely come this far out in their yearly quest for sweets. The town proper would be where all the excitement was and, for once, Silken wasn't all too afraid to venture in for something other than a mere grocery run. She was certain her shack would be safe for the night, so she gave the seal-fur coat hanging behind her door one final look. The cold months of winter were certainly on their way, but their bitter bite wasn't in the air just yet. And so, with a shrug, she simply threw on the merpony tail cape she'd made as a Sonnhalt costume and headed into town.