//------------------------------//
// Washed Up on the Rocks (Prompt #119) 
// Story: Thirty-ish Minute Pony Stories 
// by Abecedarian 
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TMP Prompt #119 - “What the Mists Conceal.”

Prompt: Ponies explore a mysterious land filled with fantastic beings.

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Washed Up on the Rocks



Dear Princess Glowing Wake, Star of the Seas, Guiding Light of the Oceans, etc, etc.,

First day didn’t go too badly, I guess.

Our hosts so far are trying their hardest to accommodate us. That’s about the best I can say of them at this point.

The Elements of Harmony seem to correspond roughly to our Jewels of Virtue, but Sea Shimmer ought to be able to tell you more, of course. 

One member of the Sun Princess’ entourage spent the better part of the welcome banquet asking extremely invasive questions about our physiology and culture, which doesn’t exactly strike me as mannerly. I can see why you dubbed Shimmer as the leader of this excursion, as I would probably have told her exactly what do to with her curiosity.

The old stories never mentioned how strange the surface-dwellers’ voices sound, and I often catch them straining to hear us when we speak or trying to puzzle out our accents.

I, frankly, could do without speaking to them from the rest of my life, after one of them began laughing (laughing!) when I was formally introduced, as if my name were hilarious somehow. The orange one managed to shut her up by cramming one of their bizarre confections down her throat.

I could get to like that one. Not that I can see myself ever going for a surface girl, not matter how closely they resemble us in certain respects. That’s just freaky.

At any rate, once introductions were finished and the inquisitive one realized she was offending us and clammed up, we got to the business of re-establishing trade and alliances and all the boring stuff I never signed up for when I became a Virtue.

Princess, I hate this! I’d rather be back home tending my flowers than dealing with all this diplomatic business. as you well know.

Everything’s too bright here, their food looks nauseating, and the air smells weird. I think our eyes work differently as well, since a lot of the colors and shapes they appear to find pleasant are making mine hurt.

The others are putting up with this better than I am, but I can tell they hate it here, too. Except perhaps Foamy, but she’s happy all the time as a matter of course.

If you somehow get it into your head to make our visit a permanent attachment, you may well find yourself short at least one Virtue.

Okay, got off topic there, but you wanted to be sent daily reports of my opinions, so you knew what you were getting into.

Nothing else to report today. More tomorrow, hopefully.

Yours,

Sea Lily, son of Splasher, Virtue of Forthrightness.