Your mind races. “Oh, I didn’t mean to say Danneltuft, I was saying, um...” you glance down at your fetlocks, which are starting to get slightly shaggy, “...dang ol’ tufts?”
The brownie gives you a glare that could curdle milk. You begin to sweat.
“I mean, I overheard some, uh, birds. And they were singing 'Danneltuft?' So I tried to copy their song, and I...” you trail off; it’s clear that Danneltuft is not amused.
“Okay, okay. The truth is, I’m part dragon on my mother’s side, and my dragon eye lets me see hidden truths that—”
Without a word, Danneltuft turns on his heels and dashes back out the door. You call after him, “Wait, no, I...” but he’s already gone.
Frantic, you yell, “I really need your help! Please, come back!” When he doesn’t return, you stamp your hooves and scream, “Danneltuft, Danneltuft, DANNELTUFT!” You wait a moment, but receive no answer.
Hanging your head, you leave the cottage. You feel a strange mix of emotions: joy that brownies are real, sadness that the one brownie you’ve met apparently hates you, and fear that he might guess the truth and abandon Fluttershy anyway. In all the stories you’ve heard, brownies hate the limelight; will knowing that you’ve seen him be enough to drive Danneltuft away? With a heavy heart, you return to your task. After all, Applebloom still needs rescuing.
*****
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