//------------------------------//
// Of Trite and of True 
// Story: Full Lance & The Holy Roman Empire 
// by Merallakos 
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As the door shut behind Grind Seed, Thistle was struck by the realization that Full Lance could let him come with him to the Castle Town. Thistle started off at a brisk trot, ready to show Grind Seed the hole as quickly as possible. 
Of course, Thistle had only ever gone to the Castle Town with Minty, and she had a very long list of things Thistle was not allowed to do. In fact it was so long, Thistle had given up keeping track of it and had made his own mental list of things he could do. 
One of the greatest liberties Thistle had found so far was the privilege of breathing and walking. Once, Thistle had gotten in trouble for merely looking at a pony! 
Okay, Thistle chided himself maybe it was more of a long stare, but still! It's not like it wasn't anything supposed to be secret!
Thistle huffed. Full Lance won't be as strict as Minty, right..? Wait, did he even say he'd take me in the first place? 
If that was the case, Thistle needed to hurry so he could stow away in wagon of hay bales before Full Lance noticed. Of course it would be impossible to conceal himself forever, so he'd have to reveal himself when Full Lance was too far to turn back. 
Or thought Thistle better yet I'll--
*Ahem* Grind Seed distantly cleared his throat. He was a good field behind Thistle at this point. 
"Kid, I may be one of the fastest mail courier ponies on this motley collection of farms  we call a manor, but I'm gonna need you to slow down so I can keep up."
Thistle looked back and realized that Grind Seed had a strange limp, walking with one leg very stiff like he couldn't fully distribute his weight one hoof or something. 
Oh[!/i] Thistle thought I can't believe I didn't notice that before! I must be slipping up. It's like Full Lance says: it's not the initiation, but the upkeep that's the true trial. Thistle made a mental reminder to be observant of ponies' walks and limps. 
"Ah, so..." Thistle said as he reversed to Grind Seed. "I didn't know you were a courier. I thought you were just a stone mason?"
Grind Seed sighed, "Kid, I'm as far from a courier pony as I can be. Haven't you heard of sarcasm by now? "
"So you're not a courier. You're just a mason then?"
"Heh heh. Well, no." Grind Seed Cleared his throat. "Nopony is 'just' a mason, or 'just' a farmer, or 'just' a carpenter. The truth is you see," Grind Seed belched. "That everypony is also a pony too-- even the most lowly of peasants. They're all doing pony things like eating and drinking and pooping and complaining as well as their jobs. Sometimes even instead of their jobs..." Grind Seed paused before starting back up again, "And some even think! Even if those thoughts are just about when their next meal is, or how much they'll drink tonight. You see, everyone has feelings." Grind Seed looked very pleased with himself, like he had just deposited a great piece of wisdom.
Why, Thistle thought. Why do adults think I don't know anything?
"I see," Thistle confirmed. "but your trade, you are a mason, right?"
"Well, Masonry is my primary trade yes, but I've also picked up a number of other trades over the years too. Though mostly the only other thing I do --or well did-- is mill flour every now and then."
"Hmmm..." Thistle gave the pony another look. He was slow and big, but he carried himself upright --or as much as he could-- with a slight smirk. 
perhaps Thistle pondered he has a point.
Thistle and Grind Seed had reached the patch of shedding trees and tall pines that bordered the big house when a large orangey dog came bounding towards them. 
"Ah, Firo!" Grind Seed exclaimed. "When was the last time I saw you, you little tramp?"
Thistle paused to rub Firo on the back while Grind Seed scratched him under the chin. Firo wasn't anyone's dog, and no one was sure where he came from; since no one nearby used dogs for herding livestock or even hunting. No one was sure where he went we he wasn't visiting the manor either. Regardless, ponies tended to be friendly towards Firo, and whenever Thistle had the chance he'd spare Firo a table scrap or two. 
Firo barked once when he had enough petting and strolled off due east. 
"I gotta admire," Grind Seed began. "I gotta admire the balls on that dog. Showing up here for a morning with the audacity to beg for the fish on our tables, and leaving before noon to go who knows where without an once of thankfulness!"
"I like him," Thistle agreed.
"And that's the thing!" Grind seed pointed accusingly at Firo as he attracted the attention of another pony. "He get's away with it too! And ponies like him!" Grind seed looked at Thistle importantly, "Do you know what would happen if tried that? They'd throw their rotten vegetables at me!"
"Actually, Grind Seed," said the pony Firo was currently enticing, "They'd probably hang you."
"Yup," agreed Thistle, knowing some of the penalties for vagabonds.
Grind seed ignored these comments and continued with his rant. "In fact, I bet the lady dogs like him too! Well, if you know what I mean." He elbowed Thistle.
Thistle didn't know what he meant, but he let the topic slide. They had arrived at the area of Full Lance's. There was a handful of sheds around the big house itself, along with a smithy, an outhouse and even a small decrepit church. Running due south and through everything was the tail end of the stream that fed the manor. The manor was oriented parallel and --from where Thistle and Grind seed had come around-- in front of the stream.
Thistle had to lead Grind seed around and behind the manor to the side that had the kitchen and pantry. The pantry, as it turned out partially extruded from the main part of the house towards the stream.
"And here," Thistle said as he crouched down to the crack. "Is the hole in the pantry."
Grind Seed Whistled. "Phew, that is one nasty crack." He lowered his head down to more closely observe it, then looked around at the surrounding area and nearby stream, pursing his lips in thought. Finally, he spoke. "Well, my best guess, or--" he cleared his throat, "Professional Opinion, is that the stream has been washing out the sediment below this foundation causing it to sink."
"Ah," Thistle said, "I see. So, are you going to divert the stream so it doesn't do that or something?"
"Actually, I was just going to shove beeswax in the hole for now."
"Not like, tar?"
"Well, in a case like this the results are basically the same for now, so I use the materials that are most  convenient. It just so happens now that one of Patty's friends just came into a large sum of beeswax."
"...I see."
"Say, do you want to learn how to shove beeswax in a crack," Grind Seed said eyeing Thistle maliciously.
"Uh," thistle wavered. "No actually."
"Well then you better run along to Full Lance before I make you do some real work for once in your life."
And with that, Thistle started off to find Full Lance.