Chapter 9
“Applebloom!?” Sweetie Belle called. “Applebloom?”
The little unicorn filly was wandering around the Apple’s apple orchard, looking for her friend.
“Applebloom?” Sweetie Belle called. “Where are you?”
Her ears perked up to listen for anything that could give her a clue as to the location of the little farmer. Unfortunately she didn’t hear any call backs, so she wasn’t making too much progress. She did hear something though. It was an odd almost shuffling sound followed by a thump.
Her ears twitched as she began to follow the sound.
Shuh-shuh-shuh. Thump.
Shuh-shuh-shuh. Thump.
It was such an odd noise. And for the life of her, Sweetie just couldn’t figure it out.
What was it?
It sounded a little familiar but—
“Stupid tree,” she heard somepony sniff.
Thump.
Sniff, sniff.
Was...was that Applebloom? Was she crying?
The little unicorn quickly snuck in, getting closer to the sound.
She weaved through the trees, searching for the source.
Then, she saw her. Sure enough, it was Applebloom, and sure enough, there were tears in her eyes.
She sniffed and snuffled before she bucked the tree behind her again, a worn spot in the bark spoke of how long she had been there.
“Applebloom?” Sweetie called.
The little filly’s head shot up, and she quickly wiped her face. “Ah’m here.”
“Are you okay?” Sweetie asked, stepping into the light.
“Ah’m,” she sniffed, “fine.”
Sweetie looked at her friend and shook her head. “I don’t think you are.”
The farmer’s eyes snapped at her friend, her orange orbs boring into the green eyes of her friend.
Sweetie simply looked at her, concern written on her face.
The anger in Applebloom’s eyes began to waiver.
Sweetie waited.
The farmer shut her eyes and bucked the tree one more time. “They left again!”
Sweetie listened.
“How could they do this to us again! They up an’ left us! We all have to sit here and wait and hope they don’t get hurt or killed, and...and it just ain’t fair! It ain’t fair, Sweetie!”
Sweetie Belle nodded, tears in her own eyes.
She wanted to comfort her friend. But she didn’t know how. She wanted to say something. But she didn’t have any words.
So she did the only thing she could do.
She hugged her friend, and held her tight.
The little earth pony filly went quiet at the touch.
And then, something in the little unicorn began to stir.
They were small words, simple words.
But they were ones her friend needed to hear.
And so she began to deliver those words in the best way she could.
She began to sing.
“It’ll be alright…
It’ll be okay…
You have to wait through the night,
To finally see the day.
It’ll be alright.
I’ll be okay.
They’ll be safe in the fight.
They’re not too far away.
It’ll be alright.
I’ll be okay.
We will see the light,
See them another day.
It’ll be alright.
Yes, it’ll be alright.
It’ll be okay.
It’ll be alright.”
It wasn’t until much later, after the song had been sung, that Sweetie would notice the bell and quarter note on her flank.
<<<|Ω|>>>
As the Victory descended into the dock, Alan smirked. He doubted the late King Bloodfeather knew that giving Equestria the four western Eagle Beak Isles would have been so advantageous in helping Alan save the Empire.
The Equestrian flag fluttered in the sea wind, dancing over the outpost. Guardsponies in gleaming gold armor patrolled the walls, holding spears as griffons and ponies alike milled around in the adjacent city.
It hadn’t taken long for ponies to move into the Isles, and for the most part, and the griffons took them well. The Isles were perhaps the last pony-friendly place in the Empire.
The small air-yacht touched down, and was quickly anchored in place as several mooring lines sailed back and forth between the ship and dock. A line of guards materialized as the gangplank lowered, and they quickly saluted as the Pendragon approached.
“Sir!” the commanding officer said. “Commander Red Runner, reporting, sir!”
“At ease,” Alan said. “Walk with me, Commander.”
“Sir!” the Earth pony answered, before following.
“Any offices or meeting rooms I can use for a secret meeting?” Alan asked.
“Yes, sir!” he said before smartly turning a corner and leading them away.
A few quick turns later, and Red Runner led the group inside and into a large room. As the ponies, dragon, and griffon took their seats, Alan began to speak. “Alright...unfortunately my plan is going to have to change a bit.”
The others gave him their attention.
“Firstly, the original plan. The eleven of us: Shining, Soarin, Silver, Spike, Thunderlane, Big Mac, Julius, Trixie, Twinkle, Sunny and myself, were all going to travel to the Onyx Keep on hoof. Possibly by wagon. We’d travel this way to keep a low profile, and, well, the Victory isn’t exactly low-key.
“Trixie, Twinkle, and Sunny were supposed to help us get through the Empire. Twinkle was sent by Luna for her recon and information gathering skills, while Sunny was sent by Celestia for his tracking and woodsmanship. Trixie, however, had the most important job of the three of you.”
“I did?” Trixie squeaked.
“I need you to provide whoever is coming with a disguise. Preferably a living illusion to help sell it. I’m not sure how the mainland stands on ponies right now, but I don’t want to risk finding out the hard way. That being said, we now have a problem.”
Alan looked around at the party. “Eleven of us is a fairly big group, and could be a bit of a problem moving. A group of seventeen is going to stand out like a sore thumb.”
Sunny raised an eyebrow.
“Or sore hoof, either way,” Alan said. “Point being, it’s too big, so somepony’s going to have to be left behind.”
Silence.
“Now...let me go ahead and say, there is no chance that any of the generals are going to stay behind for...obvious reasons.”
Six separate glances, each ranging from Fluttershy’s look of shame to Twilight’s eye roll going all the way to Rainbow’s defiant smirk that practically screamed “Element of Loyalty, Motherbucker! Just try to keep me away.”
“So, at the least, we’re going to have a party of fourteen.”
Alan then turned to the remaining three. “Trixie, since we’ll be relying on you for disguises, you have to come, luckily, I’m sure Rarity could give you a few bursts every now and then to keep you going.”
He turned to the Royal guards, “Which leave you two…”
Sunny and Twinkle looked at each other.
“So…” Twinkle began.
“So I’m going to have to ask you two to stay here,” Alan said, his head flopping onto the table. “Which sucks because I feel like I dragged you guys along for nothing.”
“Are you sure you should do that?” Twinkle asked. “I mean...well, not to brag, but I doubt any of you can top my infiltration abilities.”
“True enough,” Alan said. “But at the same time, with two illusionists keeping the disguises up, we should have an easier time getting into the small towns and villages we need to stop in for supplies. Which, hopefully, shouldn’t be too many.”
Rarity gave a slight fidget that went unnoticed by the gathered council.
Sunny said nothing, a mask of stoicism on his face.
Alan paused for a moment, before turning to the Commander. “Commander Runner, tell me, how long do you think it will take for the fifteen of us to get to the Onyx Keep?”
“By wagon, sir? Two/two and a half weeks if it’s being mechanically pulled, assuming you left the island by sea.”
“And the chances of us getting our hooves on a mechanically pulled covered wagon?”
“Not bad sir. You could probably pick one up here without to much trouble.”
“Two weeks, huh?” Alan said, stroking his chin. “Alright, I can work with that. Twinkle, Sunny, I have a mission for you two.”
“Sir!” they answered in unison.
“In one month’s time the two of you are to take the Victory and pilot it towards the Onyx Keep. If we are still alive, then the mission was a success, and you are to take us home. Otherwise, you are to return to Celestia and let her know the bad news.”
Twinkle blinked. “That’s...pretty grim, actually…”
Alan shrugged. “Somepony has to do the grim jobs.”
Twinkle went silent.
Sunny simply nodded in understanding.
“In the meantime,” Alan said, “Consider yourselves on leave. Take a vacation, go down to the beach, whatever. I just need you two to pick us up, understand?”
“Sir. Yes, sir,” Sunny replied.
“Y-yes, sir,” Twinkle said, a small bit of worry edging in her voice.
Alan nodded. “Now, for the most part, the rest of us are going to try and avoid the larger cities, and stick to making camps off the roads. We’ll stop when we need supplies, but we are going to try to stay moving for as long as we can.”
“Anything else we should know?” Silver asked.
“Yes,” Alan said, nodding. “I am enacting one major rule on this mission. I want little to no griffon casualties. If you can avoid fighting them, good. If you can incapacitate them, better. I do not want any killed unless absolutely necessary, and even then, do your best to keep them alive. Until we know for certain, we cannot rule out the possibility that they aren’t under changeling control. Understand?”
“Yes, sir!” the ponies around the table answered.
“Good! Any more questions?”
Nopony said anything.
“Awesome!” Alan said. “Now, Commander, I have a question for you. Who do I need to talk to to get us our wagon?”
<<<|Ω|>>>
Twilight chewed on her lower lip.
A part of her wondered if the flavor would improve after a time. She stood still watching her husband from one of the outpost walls, continuing to chew as he loaded up the wagon that was supposed to carry them all to the center of the mainland.
She mentally cursed the world’s timing of things.
This had to happen now? Now, when the world could very easily go to war again?
She...she and Alan had talked about it, they had discussed plans and hypotheticals, spoke of worries and fears, and then came to the conclusion that, should Life decided to surprise them, they could spend the majority of the waiting time preparing, as well as ask for some help from their friends should any future situations get incredibly stressful.
And then the war happened.
And then came Life’s worst timing ever!
A few months earlier? Sure! A few months later? Absolutely! Now, if the war hadn’t been happening? She would have told him already! Now, with everything riding on an extremely dangerous mission? No! Just, no! Buck no, even!
She let loose an exasperated snort.
Why?
She released her sufficiently mangled lower lip to start up her third bout of pacing.
It was incredibly obvious that she shouldn’t tell Alan. He wasn’t really a fan of her being here now as it was. Telling him now would only really get her tied up in a room somewhere so she couldn’t follow the others.
Shining? He’d help Alan with the rope.
The others? They’d probably tell Alan.
So general consensus was “tell no one.”
“Brilliant plan, Twilight,” she thought to herself sarcastically.
This went against everything her friendship lessons taught. You weren’t supposed to hide things from your friends, you weren’t supposed to lie, and you certainly weren’t supposed to hide things, lie, and then get into a situation where all of your lives were in danger.
She sighed, before looking back up to the sky.
Seriously, why?
“Honey! Twi, where are you?” she heard Alan call.
She paused for a second, and took a deep breath through the nose, before repeating the little creed she made for herself.
She wasn’t going to tell anypony. She wasn’t going to let Alan get hurt. She wasn’t going to get hurt herself. And she would tell all of them once they all got home safe and sound.
She could do this.
“Right here, Al!” she answered, poking her head over the wall.
He quickly spotted her, and waved her down. “Come on down, we’re almost ready to go!”
She nodded before she heading down to the wagon where the rest of the party was gathering.
The wagon was an old, covered, settlement wagon, an antique design meant to help griffons settle the furthest reaches of the Empire in it’s earlier days. The design had managed to survive until today, even though the Empire had rather well-defined borders. The pulling machine, though, was a fairly new development.
It looked a bit like a cross between one of Twilight’s many scientific machines and a locomotive. A small chimney reached up over a boxy body covered in blinking lights and exposed pipes and wires, before coming down to the studded wheels, which looked very much like they had been ripped from a tiny train and glued back onto the box. It even had the piston rod going from the front wheels to the back. Two long leather reins ran from the back of the machine to the driver's seat on the wagon, running along the tugs of the would-be harness.
“Alright,” Alan said, once they had all gotten close enough to him. “Let’s take a second to talk about our cover story.” The ponies all went quiet as they huddled around Alan, the wagon, and the machine. “As to best explain what such a large group is doing together, and why we have so little supplies, I thought it would be best to say that we are a group of traveling entertainers, I figured that, between all of us we could probably put together a good show.”
“The Great and Powerful Trixie has much experience with this!”
“And we are going to be counting on it,” Alan said. “Now, before we leave, we do need to figure out one more thing. You are going to have to figure out what your own personal backstories are, and then we’re going to have to share them all so we can be on the same page. Understood?”
“Yes, sir!” they answered.
Alan nodded. “Alright then, saddle up, ponies. We’ve got a boat to catch.”
<<<|Ω|>>>
A small, mechanically pulled wagon slowly chugged its way onto a large ship.
The sea vessel, a three-decked ferry by the name of the Wandering Dream was sitting quietly with a large ramp set down on the decks of the westernmost Isle. The moon was rising as passengers and cargo were loaded on board, torches and braziers providing the only light.
The studded wheels of the wagon barely bit into the wood of the ramp, and the wagon climbed up and onto the deck with relative ease.
Two griffons sat in the front of the wagon, one holding the reins of the puller, the other leaning into the first one’s side.
The driver was a large griffon lion, with large brown eyes and black tipped feathers. A wide brimmed hat was pulled over his face, leaving only his wickedly hooked beak visible.
The lioness next to him was of a slighter build, and seemed to be more of an snowy owl mix than an eagle mix. Her feathers were tipped with lavender, and her black talons gleemed in the torchlight. Her wings fluttered as they slowly came up to the griffon with the clipboard that was taking names and dates.
“Next!” he called, marking his clipboard.
The wagon pulled up slowly, before the driver pulled back on both reins, activating the brakes, stopping the wagon right next to the sailor.
“Names, cargo, number of passengers,” he asked automatically.
He was answered with a heavy bag of coins flopping onto his clipboard.
He looked up at the driver.
“We were never here,” the driver said simply.
The griffon picked up the bag, weighing it in his hand. He reached in, pulling out a few Guineas. Nodding he slipped the bag into his belt, wrote down a few squiggles onto the page he was on and shouted. “Next!”
The driver loosed the reins and the puller chugged on its merry way, pulling the cart behind it.
The griffon in the large hat kept driving forward until he found a corner to park in. He pulled on the reins again before the owl-like griffon jumped down and hit a switch on the side, turning it off.
The driver smiled as the lioness walked back towards the covered wagon. “Not a bad job, Ysona,” the driver said, holding out his claw to help her back into the cart.
She smiled as she took his hand, the lion pulling her up into the cart. “Thank you, Thardor.”
They then quickly went inside the tent of the wagon, and were instantly aware of how cramped it was for all of them.
The wagon was large, but even so, it was not made to hold thirteen ponies, and dragon and a griffon, disguised as griffons or otherwise.
“Ow! Those are my toes, Mac!” Spike complained.
“Sorry,” Big Mac answered.
Alan shook his head. “Alright, everygriff,” he said, saying the last word with a slight smirk. “We may as well get some sleep, according to Commander Runner, it’s going to take a day and a half for us to get there, so we may as well settle down.”
“Ysona’s” forehead gave a faint glow, and a four shelf-like bunks swung down from the ceiling of the wagon.
Rarity, Pinkie, Fluttershy, and Dash all took the bunks, while the rest of party did their best to arrange themselves on the floor.
Alan took a spot on closest to the back of the wagon, followed by Twi, Spike, Julius, Trixie, Silver, AJ, Thunderlane, Soarin, Shining and Big Mac.
It took a lot of shuffling and awkward pushing, but eventually they were all laying down, covering the floor like a living blanket, and definitely not comfortable. Luckily, their body heat would be enough to keep them warm in the cool taiga of the Empire.
Slowly but surely, they began to nod off, one by one.
Twilight was close to falling asleep herself, when she felt a gentle pair of lips against her horn.
“I love you,” Alan said.
Twilight smiled, and kissed him back. “I love you too.”
Before long, the whole wagon was sound asleep.
That is until a certain pegasus with interesting sleeping habits rolled over and onto the living carpet.
“Ah! Dash!”
“Huh? What?” she said, a snore making it’s way out of her mouth even as she woke.
“Get off of me!”
“Celestia! My back!”
“You’re sleeping on the floor!”
“How is it, that ya can nap in one of mah trees for hours on end, but when it comes to actual sleep y’all are messier than a pig in its sty!?”
“What happened?” Dash asked, still half asleep.
<<<|Ω|>>>
Salt air tasted funny.
Applejack had tasted it before, but that didn’t change her opinion.
“Nothing could!” she could hear her mental image of Big Mac yell.
It wasn’t her fault that her tongue was more acclimated to sweet tastes. Apples mostly, big surprise.
Still, salt wasn’t really her flavor.
“Like Ah said!” her rather vocal mental Macintosh called.
Ignoring the imaginary cry, she turned her focus to the grey horizon of Empire.
As she watched the ocean fly by, the Wandering Dream moving at a very good speed, a thought occurred to her. She remembered Dash said once that griffons couldn’t manipulate clouds like pegasi could. They could walk around on them, but they were still at the cloud’s mercy.
Her eyes widened a touch as she realized these griffons had been essentially living in Everfree forest for their entire existence.
How...how did they do this?
“What’cha thinkin about?” A voice said behind her.
She turned to see a griffon, a little smaller than Big Mac’s disguise. Bronze fur and Silver feathers revealed him to be Modorno, the disguise for her friend Silver.
Her own orange fur and golden feathers were nothing to sneeze at, but what really set her apart was her stetson, which she had been adamant about wearing even on her disguise.
“Just thinkin’,” she answered back.
“Specific,” Silver said, walking up next to her, staring at the sea from the railing. “So, Alapia,” he said, speaking to the fake griffon, “you think you’re ready for this?”
She sighed. “No. Best Ah can figure, Ah ain’t ready for nothin’.”
Silver nodded. “I know how you feel.”
“Do ya now?” Applejack asked. “Last I checked you were a gu—” she paused, catching herself, “you were in the business, you’re used to this kind of stuff.
He smirked. “Don’t kid yerself, App—Alaplia, it don’t really matter who or what you are, you never get used to it.”
There was silence between the two for a moment.
“Also, I’m launching a complaint,” Silver said.
“What? Why?”
“Because ever since I’ve started working with you,” he paused, clearing his throat, “Ah’ve picked up a bit of accent.”
She looked at him.
He stared back.
And then the two broke out into laughter.
Their little fit of joy caught the attention of a few passers-by, but they were quick to get on with what they were doing.
As their laughter died, Silver gave his friend a soft, sad, smile. “We’ll make it,” he said, giving her a hug. “We’ll make it.”
The apple farmer tensed, before quickly smothering her nervousness. It was just a friendly hug. That’s all. “Thanks, Si—Modorno,” she said, leaning into the embrace. “Thanks.”
<<<|Ω|>>>
A new day dawned, and the little wagon was happily chugging away of the ferry and onto the docks of the Empire's port city of Oissparyo.
Of course, it could hardly be called the Empire’s now.
Banners of green with black crown’s with a jagged horn coming from the center hug from every window and form every light post.
Alan scowled at the sight.
Twilight sat next to him, moving closer as she saw patrols griffons with large spears and talon caps walk down the streets, leading several chained prisoners by the talons.
Above them hung a sign that read: “Traitors to the Iron Crown. Cause no Trouble, or you will join them.”
The wagon simply trudged on through the city, the grey cobblestone streets providing a bit of a bumpy ride. However, the utter emptiness of the streets compensated for that.
Only a handful of griffons were outside. They moved with their heads down and their gaze to the ground. No one spoke, there was almost no noise at all, with the exception of the pat-pat of paws and talons hitting stone.
“This is just awful!” Alan heard Fluttershy say from the back of the wagon.
The Pendragon turned his head to look on the inside of the wagon, where almost everyone was looking out the back.
All except Julius.
“It get’s worse,” the new king said simply.
The others turned to him.
“Oissprayo is far enough out of reach that they can get away with little mercies,” he said, giving a bored glance at his clenching and unclenching fist. “I’ve seen far worse further inland.”
“But...but how could they?” Fluttershy asked.
Julius sighed. He was silent for a moment before speaking again. “Miss Fluttershy, ponies are a gentle race, but as my own experience has taught me, that does not make them weak. In fact, I have found that, when pushed, ponies are capable of a lot of violence in their own right.”
He paused once more. “Griffons...griffons are a much more violent race. We are born for war, bred for war, live for war. Imagine then, if you can, Miss Fluttershy, what violence we are capable of when pushed.”
<<<|Ω|>>>
The little wagon dutifully marched on, the studded wheels of the puller now biting into dirt and mud as it chugged along on the empty highway out of town.
The empty plains along the road spoke of the heavy foresting that Oissprayo had been involved with to keep it’s shipbuilding business up. Unfortunately, all that left was grey skies and drab green fields now stretched for as far as the eye could see.
“It is a good thing it is summer,” Julius had remarked. “I doubt this little puller would have handled the snow as well.”
The comment had really only gotten the apple farmer to look around and wonder aloud. “Y’all call this summer?”
The grey sky and almost lifeless-looking grass had made for a very dreary morning, noon, and now afternoon as Alan drove the little machine down the road.
It was much too dreary for Alan’s taste.
He gave his wife a look.
She recognized it, and smiled.
Alan began to sing.
“I got my twelve sided die and I'm ready to roll with a wizard and my goblin crew.
My friends are coming over to my mom's basement bringing Funyuns and the Mountain Dew.”
Twilight picked up the song, joining him.
“I got a big broad sword made outta cardboard and that stereos a pumpin zeppelin.
It's that time of the night, we turn on the black light, let the dungeons and the dragons begin!
It's D and D!
Fighting with the legends of yore.
It's D and D!
Never kissed a lady before.
Nope.
I said it, WOOO!”
Shining’s head popped out of the wagon.
“Now the Lord of the Rings, the Dark Crystal and things, we use these as a reference tool.
And when we put on our cloaks and tell warlock jokes, we're the coolest kids in the school!
No we're not.
I know.
It’s D and D!—”
“Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait!” Shining said, shoving his head between the two singers. “Alan, you play RPGs?”
“Eeyup!” he said with a nod.
Shining stared at him with wide eyes.
“You are,” the Captain began, “the coolest brother-in-law ever! Dude! We totally need to get my old gaming group together!”
“You play?”
“Do I?” Shining asked. “Man! D20’s how I roll!”
“He was the one to get me into it,” Twilight admitted.
Alan nodded. “Good man, teaching your little sister the ways of the die.”
Shining laughed, as the three broke into song again. Gala Effect in full swing.
“It's D and D!
Warriors who terrify.
It's D and D!
Virgins,
'til the day...
We...
DIE!”
Julius blinked. “Aren’t the three of you married?”
<<<|Ω|>>>
The campfire crackled as the ponies sat around it, munching away at the rather tasteless grass and a few remaining apples.
It certainly wasn’t much.
“Well…” Alan said. “This is boring…”
“Yeah...morale is definitely going to be taking a hit before long,” Twilight added.
Everyone else just gave her a look.
The cloudy sky covered the stars from sight, and the plains would be barren if not for the carpet of dull grass.
“Anypony got anything fun to do?” Alan asked.
Twilight opened her mouth.
“Besides classifying nearby rocks?”
Twilight turned to pout.
“Well…” Applejack started, “Big Mac knows a few songs from back home, but knowin’ him, he won’t sing unless he’s got his guitar.”
The large pony nodded.
“You mean like this one?” Pinkie offered, holding an acoustic guitar in her forehooves.
“Where in the hay did you get that?” the farmer asked.
“I pack it right next to my Party Cannon!” she said with a laugh.
The gathered ponies blinked.
Julius’ head went into his claws as he tried to suppress a headache.
Applejack turned to her brother. “Well...do ya mind Mac? Just a little something to keep us happy for a bit?”
The large pony blinked.
He sighed with a shrug before holding out his hoof.
Pinkie smiled as she handed him the guitar.
Taking the instrument, the large pony gave it a quick strum.
He frowned before tightening the strings.
He strummed again.
Nodding in satisfaction, he then began to play.
A slow-paced song began to fill the plain as the guitar began to sing.
This was followed by Mac’s own deep voice as he began to sing.
“I was born on the river deep in the south,
And boy, let me say that I had a mouth,
That pushed away anyone that I ever saw,
I was alone, just me and the straw.”
His hooves continued to dance along the strings.
“When I young I left my home,
I just really wanted to be alone,
But that all changed, the m’ment that I saw your face,
Never have I seen such a beautiful grace.”
He strummed along to the almost sorrowful tune, his deep voice gave the perfect tone for the country song.
“If I were gone tomorrow, would you care?
If I were gone tomorrow, would you sigh?
If I were gone tomorrow, would you miss me at all?
If I were gone tomorrow, would you cry?
“You were everything I wanted, yes you were,
This shriveled little heart you did stir,
You held my very being, when you walked in the room,
And my dear, your beauty is in bloom.”
His eyes glanced at a certain yellow pegasus as he sang.
“If I were gone tomorrow, would you care?
If I were gone tomorrow, would you sigh?
If I were gone tomorrow, would you miss me at all?
If I were gone tomorrow, would you cry?”
The rhythm suddenly picked up as he came to the bridge.
“But what can I give you?
What can I say?
To make you love me,
Like the sun loves the day?
I would give all I have,
I would throw it all away,
To make you love me,
Like the sun loves the day.
But do you even know me,
In this merry month of May?
Oh, do you even love me,
Like the sun loves the day?
Would you hear my cry,
When you’re so far away?
Do you even love me,
Like the sun loves the day?
Do I even matter?
Or am I nothing more than clay?
Do you even see me,
Like the sun sees the day?
If I were gone tomorrow, would you care?
If I were gone tomorrow, would you sigh?
If I were gone tomorrow, would you miss me at all?
If I were gone tomorrow, would you cry?
If I were gone tomorrow, would you care?
If I were gone tomorrow, would you sigh?
If I were gone tomorrow, would you miss me at all?
If I were gone tomorrow, would you cry?
‘Cause on a day like tomorrow, I could die…”
The song ended, the last notes hovering in the air.
And Fluttershy could only stare.
“Not bad, Mac,” Alan said with approval. “Know any others?”
The large pony smiled before he began to strum the strings again, and a new song filled the clearing.
--------------------------------
“That’s quite a bit of songs there, Miner.”
I know, I know…
“Not a whole lot of actual content.”
I know…
“I mean, it’s a nice, original song and all, but…”
Look, Pinkie...can you not do this now?
“Oh...sorry…”
...Darn it, Pinkie. Stop being so darn cute.
“...Naw!”
Heh, come here you! Next time, guys, I promise, lots of epicness as we watch the effect of the Evil Iron Crown on the Empire!
“Promise?”
Pinkie Promise even.
“Good enough for me! See you all next time!”
Bye!
“I...I like the songs... I don’t have to edit those…”