Chapter 4. Black and White
“We’re always six meals, one pay and one tantrum away from it.”
Princess Luna about Anarchy, date of statement: unknown.
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Remind me that fat is only one letter away from fast. And, I swear on a misty horn kink that this fucker of yellow griffon was fast.
Doom was rushing through the alleyways, throwing his own mass in between ponies and griffins staring at us in bewilderment. More than one ended face buried in the murk flowing down the street drains adjoining the walk paths. Breathing steam, I tried to keep track of him. At least the sight of Doom’s cape, black and notorious, was enough to dig a tunnel into the crowd. Nearly. More than once did I had to jump over somepony.