Nearby—not more than a few blocks, in fact—somepony of no particular interest otherwise was exiting Mr. and Mrs. Cake's bakery, and carried his purchase, neatly wrapped in brown paper, down a nearby alley to unseal it and take a bite. The pastry squirted a thick load of creamy filling onto his chin, and he licked it up eagerly, making satisfied slurping noises as he downed the delicious white goo.
Without the sound of hoofsteps, a figure appeared at the end of the alley, and moved forward just as silently. They were small, but holding an object almost their size: a book, snapped closed, and tied shut with a ribbon of string.
The pony eating his pastry looked up as the figure undid the string, opened the pages of the book, and pointed it forward.
There was a noise something like a seagull imploding. Maybe a pufferfish that had been punctured very suddenly. Then there was a squelch. A lot of fluids displaced all at once. Cream filling. [REDACTED].
When the last of the mist had settled, the figure opened its eyes, smiling, and shut the book.
"Very good. But we still have a lot of testing to do."
The voice was high, manipulative, and possibly possessed of a Napoleon complex, if they have those in Equestria.
With no further exchange, the figure left, carrying the book beneath a dark cloak, a small trail through the red and white splotches that littered the alley.