After depositing Podokwo off at his cottage, which lay just off the north corner of Trotsdale, obscured by the woods, Mint set out at a clip past the other side of town and down the country road. A breeze had picked up, and the once-brutal sun had given way to a pleasant afternoon. His brilliant white mane flashed as he exhibited incredible displays of exuberant acrobatics. His newfound riches tightly secured in his saddlebags, he was on his way to a wealth his life had never tasted. Extending his forelegs, he tucked into a considerable speed and made haste towards the next town.
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Podokwo stood in the middle of Mint’s one-room cottage, as awkward as a pony could be. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t been in contact with Equestria, and was amazed at their architecture; rather, he bore the task of waiting patiently as his newfound friend and quasi-savior went off to cash his riches in jewels. He thought absently to himself as to whether or not Mint would give Podokwo any of the money, seeing as he had sort of brought it to the pegasus. He shook off the thought as absently as it came on. His way had always been the polite and reserved one, and he would never infringe upon the matter of another pony’s wealth.
He started to shuffle, in that absent waiting way, around the room that made up Mint’s cottage. The meek highlight of the room was the cast-iron potbelly stove in the center, gone cold so as not to waste wood in these hot summer months. The hulking zebra lumbered over to the left side of the room. There sat Mint’s worn-down cot, which was no more than loosely tied bales of hay on top of a rotting wooden frame, with a frayed tartan quilt thrown over it. Podokwo simultaneously pondered whether or not the bed could support him and why something like a bed would be in such disrepair. He concluded that it would be prudent not to test it, and that Mint probably had somewhere else to sleep. He moved on.
The rest of the room was occupied by strangely organized piles of junk – old hunting equipment, the few clothes that Mint owned, and various articles that most ponies who were in the habit of throwing things away would consider trash. Podokwo felt his eyes drooping. Although relieved of his duties halfway through the day, he had still done a full day of work for any sane or free pony. He glanced longingly at the bed before curling awkwardly onto the floor.
Just as he was about to close his eyes, he turned towards the dusty third wall. What had passed for drawings or etchings earlier in his peripheral vision now came into focus. Pinned to the wall, each by a cheap nail, were dozens of cutie marks – patches of pony flank. Podokwo nearly jumped out of his own skin as he scrambled for the door of this madman’s house.
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A sense of courtesy saw Mintrose Ambrosia whizzing home at top speed, cutting a slight hypotenuse from his errands back to his cottage instead of checking in on Trotsdale’s town square. Just barely clearing his own thatch roof, he dropped down in front of his door and hummed a little to himself as he reached to open it. Just as he extended his hoof, a great mass of black and white came tumbling through a dwarfed frame.
“AAUGHHFFFFFGGGH!” Mint could only scream as his frame was nearly crushed beneath the massive zebra. Podokwo, on the other hand, reared a hoof back for a punch and brought it down right were a slower pony’s head would have been. Mint used his quick dodge to roll up and out from the zebra, and flew up comfortably out of his reach. He gave his best outraged face and shouted,
“What the hay are you doing, you madman?” Podokwo halted his physical panic enough to return the furious look.
“Me? A madman? I am not the crazed murderer here! I have seen your hospitality, and I do not want it!” He was about to turn and bolt back down the path when Mint stopped his hovering and dropped to the ground. He drew a deep breath and threw his hoofs up in the air in a sign of innocence.
“Podokwo, my friend, please come inside. I swear I won’t murder you.” Mint almost chuckled as Podokwo raised a skeptical eyebrow. “I suppose I have some explaining to do.”
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After a quick preparation of some salad and cheese, Mint dropped some hay bales on the floor for the ponies to sit on. The forest-green pegasus, lit an amiable hue in the candlelight of his comfy cottage, noted that Podokwo’s helping of dinner had vanished before he had turned around. Pushing his own serving towards his guest, he dropped his normally energetic conversational voice down to a more reserved, explanatory pitch. After a quick chew of spinach leaf, he looked at the pony opposite him and ventured,
“I know all this looks bad. But it isn’t the type of barbarism you’ve pegged it to be.” Mint’s wide gestures to the cutie marks on his wall didn’t pull Podokwo’s head towards them. “I guess to explain why they’re there, I have to start at the beginning. Get comfortable, friend.”