A cloaked pony entered the Ponyville market amid its usual bustle, dragging a small wagon behind it. A few others stopped to give the strange figure a questioning look, but they were soon occupied by their own errands, and hurried away. The pony lifted a hoof and dug at the ground for a few seconds, its heavy jewelry jingling from the movement. Hesitating for a moment, it tipped back its hood, revealing a striped face and tall, spiky hair. The creature was not a pony at all, but a zebra.
Instantly, all motion in the marketplace stopped. It was almost comical the way that ponies froze mid-step, mid-purchase, or even mid-flap, and all eyes were drawn to the new creature. As the pegasi realized that they were falling, they frantically flapped their wings again, and everypony else took this as a cue to unfreeze. The zebra, unfazed, resumed her trek through town. Whispers followed her, but she ignored them, or remained oblivious.
The bell over the door of Sugarcube Corner rang merrily, announcing its exotic customer. The zebra walked up to the unmanned counter and muttered, “My journey was long, and I am beat. I think that I shall stop for a treat.” She unhooked her wagon and let the handles drop to the floor.
A fluffy, pink head popped out from the kitchen at the sound of the zebra’s voice. Pinkie Pie bounced up to the counter and chirped, “Welcome to Sugarcube Corner! What can I get you?”
The zebra paused to think, tapping a black-tipped hoof against her nose. “You offer so much, I can hardly think. Perhaps I’ll do with just a drink. A milkshake, please, with extra oat, would be just the thing to soothe my throat.”
Pinkie dashed into the kitchen to prepare the drink. She reappeared a minute later, balancing a tall glass on top of her head. She slid it onto the counter and said, “That’ll be two bits, please.”
The zebra gratefully dropped the proper change into the pink pony’s hoof, picked up the milkshake, and retreated to a corner table. Pinkie followed.
The zebra sat, and Pinkie took a seat across from her. The zebra lifted an eyebrow but said nothing, choosing instead to take a sip of her milkshake. Pinkie leaned excitedly onto the table, waiting for the stranger to say something. After a few seconds of silence, she exclaimed, “You’re new! You’re new here! I’ve never seen you before, so you must be, like, brand-new! What’s your name, stranger? Where’re you from? My name’s Pinkie Pie, and I make it my personal mission to be friends with everypony. And I mean everypony! So as your new friend, I’ve gotta know some stuff about you!”
The zebra met the pony’s excited, blue eyes with her own mellow, teal ones. “I come from a land beyond your rivers, past the trees. My name is Zecora, if you please.”
Pinkie scrunched up her nose and giggled. “Why do you talk like that? It sounds so funny. I mean, I talk like that sometimes, too, but only when I’m singing. Or sometimes when I’m playing around with my friends. This one stallion, Time Turner, just taught me how to rap. And look! I got this cool hat, too. Do you wanna wear it? It almost sounds like you’re rapping, so if you wear this super-cool hat then everypony would just think you’re a rapper. That explains your stripes, too, right? They’re super cool looking. I have another friend, Rarity, who’s a fashion designer, and she’ll do anything to look fashionable. I bet she’d even dye her coat, like you! Oh! I should introduce you to her. I bet you’d be really good friends!”
Zecora blinked in confusion. A large, black hat now hung from one of her ears, and Pinkie was now sipping on her milkshake. Zecora gingerly set the hat on the table in front of her and got up. “I’ve heard that ponies are friendly and nice. It’s a change from my own kind; it gives life spice. But my friend, now I fear that something calls me away from here. We must save this talk for another time, and I shall tell you why I rhyme. Until then, I must bid you farewell, but I’ll return soon, and ring up your doorbell.”
Pinkie waved cheerily as Zecora picked up her wagon and exited the café. Zecora once again weaved her way through the marketplace and made her way to the outskirts of town. The thick, black trees of the Everfree Forest stood in front of her, and she smiled. Her new home was a mere mile away; nothing, really, in comparison to the rest of her journey. Humming to herself, Zecora plunged into the dark foliage, unaware of the young colt watching her from behind.
Mrs. Cake returned to her shop after a long day of shopping for groceries. She opened her kitchen door and was welcomed by the wonderful smell of cake. Carrot cake, to be precise. Her husband stood in front of the oven, anxiously waiting for the timer to buzz. Pinkie Pie stood next to him, mixing up a bowl of cream cheese frosting to top the cake when it cooled.
Cup Cake set her saddlebags down on the counter and began unloading them. “How was everypony’s day?” she asked.
Pinkie bounced in place and exclaimed, “I made a new friend today!”
Carrot Cake chuckled. “Another one?” he asked. “I didn’t think there was anyone left in Ponyville that you didn’t know.”
Pinkie sampled the frosting and mumbled, “I think she’s new.”
Cup Cake gasped. “Oh, goodness, Pinkie, you just reminded me. I saw the strangest thing at the market today. There was this pony with a wagon and a cloak that just walked into the middle of the square, dug a hole, and left. He didn’t look like he was from here. He had stripes all over, and lots of gold jewelry. I wonder if he’s a visiting royal of some kind? It certainly was odd.”
Pinkie giggled. “That’s my new friend!” she said, then snorted. “Her name’s Zecora!”
Carrot Cake jumped as the timer buzzed, but he ignored it. “Really? What’s she like? Does everypony look like that where she’s from?” he asked.
Cup Cake shook her head. “Kids, I swear. Pinkie Pie, promise me that you won’t go running around, changing the way you look just to be ‘cool.’ I just don’t see the point of somepony putting all sorts of crazy colors all over their body. All it does is make you look silly.”
Pinkie pulled the cake out of the oven and plopped it on the counter. “I’m going to go see if I can find her tomorrow,” she said. “I have to figure out when to have her ‘Welcome to Ponyville’ party! I’m sure you can ask her all your questions then.”
The next day, Zecora returned to town. Having unpacked her small wagon the night before, she needed to pick up other essentials for her new home: namely, food and potion ingredients. She entered the market again, once more wearing her cloak. She kept the hood up, but this time, she did notice the whispers and stares that followed her around. Clearly, the town had noticed her the previous day, and Zecora wasn’t sure if that was a good thing.
She walked up to a large, wooden cart, covered with flowers. A short, pink pony with bright green hair cowered behind it. “Hello. I’m, um, Daisy. Can I… help you?” the mare squeaked.
Zecora tried to give Daisy a winning smile, and replied, “Good day, my dear. I hope you’re well. I’m new, you see, and I seek what you sell. Your flowers smell lovely, perfect for stew, but I seek ingredients for a different kind of brew. For daisies or lilies, you’ll find I’m no buyer. I seek a small plant called Heart’s Desire. It ignites passion in animals, big and small. I thought that I saw some here, at your stall. If I was mistaken, please, point me away. I’ll bother you no more on this fine spring day.”
The flower mare nodded. “Yes, um, we have that, erm, ma’am. But, y’see, it’s, well…”
Zecora chuckled. “Spit it out, my dear, while I’m still young. Unless a cat has swallowed your tongue.”
Daisy gulped and shrunk back even further. “Sorry, but, um, Princess Cadence passed a law restricting sales of that… particular plant. It’s, um, to make sure that ponies don’t, you know, misuse it. So you just have to tell me what you’re going to use it for, and, well, I’m supposed to use my own discretion. So, uh, what—what do you plan to do with it?”
Zecora smiled. “It’s nice to see ponies acting so wise. Your princess sees things through practical eyes. The safety of others, of course, comes first, or ponies would always be seen at their worst. I intend no harm with this simple flower. I just keep some nearby for an urgent hour. I have a need for many plants, because I am the villager who enchants. For an emergency, I am always prepared. Please, you have no need to be scared.”
Daisy peered into Zecora’s hood, trying to read her face. Hesitantly, she reached behind her and plucked a single, bulbous flower. “One Heart’s Desire,” she said shakily. “That’ll be four bits.”
Zecora completed the exchange and continued on her way. She passed through the center of the square, paused a moment to scratch at the ground again, and approached Sugarcube Corner. She pushed open the door, and saw that, contrary to the day before, the place was positively packed. At the sound of the door’s chime, Pinkie looked up from her conversation with two white unicorns. “Zecora!” she shouted, waving. “Over here!”
Zecora walked up to the table and took a seat next to the bouncing pink pony. Pinkie made the introductions. “Sweetie Belle, Rarity, this is Zecora. Zecora, this is the pony I was telling you about yesterday! And that’s her little sister. Can’t you totally tell they’re related? I mean, gosh, lucky! My sisters and I don’t look anything alike! It must be so nice to look like your family. Do you look like your family, Zecora? Oh, probably not, unless all of you dyed your coats at once. Ooh, that’s a good idea. It’d be, like, a bonding experience. Oh my gosh, I should totally try that the next time I go to visit my parents. It sounds so fun!”
The other three waited for Pinkie to finish her rant. Rarity and Zecora looked at her in amusement, while Sweetie Belle used the time to peer suspiciously at the zebra. When Pinkie quieted down, Zecora met the young filly’s gaze with a questioning look. Rarity looked between the two for a second and tapped Sweetie sternly on the horn. “Sweetie Belle,” she whispered. “It’s rude to stare.”
Sweetie glanced back at Zecora, who was patiently listening to Pinkie as she went off on another topic. “Sorry, Rarity,” she whispered back. “But today at school, Featherweight was telling everypony that he saw a creepy pony in a hood go into the Everfree Forest yesterday. And they didn’t come out! He stayed there all afternoon, but nopony else came by at all.”
Rarity shuddered. “The Everfree Forest? My, how terrifying! Perhaps your friend just imagined it. A bad dream, maybe. In any case, we shouldn’t judge Zecora before we get to know her. She probably had a very good reason to be in there.”
Zecora joined in their conversation, making the two sisters flush in embarrassment. “It is true, what you say. I entered the forest yesterday. I didn’t come out, but please, do not fright. It was in my own home that I passed the night.”
“Whoa!” Pinkie exclaimed. “You mean, you live in the Everfree Forest?” Zecora nodded. “Spooky,” Pinkie replied.
Rarity cleared her throat delicately, and began, “Zecora, darling, your cloak is absolutely fabulous! But, doesn’t it feel a bit stuffy in here with your hood up?”
Zecora nodded. “Of course, my unicorn friend. I did not mean to offend. Pony culture is much different from my own, so I’ve come here to learn, now that I’ve grown. I’ve always thought you were nicer folk. Forgive me, now I shall remove my cloak.”
She stood up, removed her cloak, draped it across her seat, and sat back down. Sweetie Belle’s eyes grew wide at the sight of her stripes, and Rarity stifled a shriek. Pinkie burst into laughter. “You should see the looks on your faces!” she exclaimed.
Zecora pawed self-consciously at the table, avoiding eye contact with anypony. She couldn’t help but notice the constant chiming of the doorbell as the door opened repeatedly.
Pinkie looked around. “Hey, where’s everypony going? I guess lunch must be over.” She glanced over at the clock. “Oops, my lunch break’s over, too! I gotta get back to work.” She bounded back to the counter. Zecora followed sheepishly, pulling her cloak back over her body as she went.
“My apologies, Pinkie Pie,” she began. “But I must once more say goodbye.”
Pinkie heaved a dramatic sigh. “Okey dokey,” she said sadly. Perking up a bit, she suggested, “Hey! Why don’t you draw me a quick map to your house, and I’ll come by and visit you later?”
Zecora frowned doubtfully but pulled out a napkin and a pencil, sketching a crude guide. “At the end of this path, you’ll find my home. I admit, company would be nice; I’m often alone.”
Zecora left, and Rarity quickly rushed up to Pinkie. “You’re not seriously thinking of going, are you?” she asked. “Goodness knows, the Everfree Forest is a dangerous place! And I’m not convinced of that pony’s character. She seems a bit shady to me.”
Pinkie dismissed her friend’s worries with a wink. “Don’t be silly, Rarity,” she said. “If Zecora can get through the big, scary forest, I can, too. She’s new, and she needs friends, so it’s up to me to make her feel welcome.”
Zecora danced around her house, humming cheerfully and unpacking. A thick blanket made of camel’s wool was tucked neatly into her bed, and she crisscrossed a rope along the ceiling above it, hanging clay pots and jugs by their handles. Sets of sturdy bamboo shelves lined the walls, and she filled them with her purchases from the day: flowers, herbs, dishes, fruit, vegetables, and more. She pulled out a pair of masks from the wagon and set them by the entrance to her home. She stepped back and observed her new home. It was furnished comfortably, with a large, open space in the middle of the floor. She reached back into her wagon for her final possession.
“Last, but not least, and never forgot,” she chuckled. “For a finishing touch, I’ll bring out my pot.” With a heave, she pulled a heavy black cauldron down onto the floor and situated it in the exact center of her hut with a loud clang!
In the forest outside, Pinkie crept carefully through the low-hanging branches and thorns. A noise up ahead made her jump in fright, but she tried to follow it to its source. She was almost to Zecora’s hut, and, aside from briefly getting lost twice, she hadn’t encountered nearly as many problems as she’d expected.
A haunting tune reached Pinkie’s ears as Zecora’s tree came into view. She peeked into the window and saw Zecora standing at a large cauldron in the middle of the room, singing in an unidentifiable language and mixing up a concoction. She danced slowly as she worked, moving smoothly like a snake. Zecora gave her cauldron a final stir and said, “It’s almost ready for the pony, Pinkie Pie. I predict it will be so good that she will simply die.”
Pinkie’s eyes widened in horror as she withdrew from the window and flattened herself along the outside wall. Maybe Rarity was right; that pony was shady! Regardless, Pinkie had to give her a chance. Gathering her courage, she mustered up a big, cheery smile and knocked on the door.
Zecora swung it open calmly. “Welcome, Pinkie. I trust your journey was sweet. If you’d like to come in, I've prepared us a treat.”
Pinkie sighed internally. That must be what Zecora was doing in that pot. She eagerly entered the house and gazed around, taking in the odd décor. “Wowee, Zecora!” she exclaimed. “But, uh, you know Nightmare Night’s not for, like, 6 more moons, right?”
Zecora raised an eyebrow. “Nightmare Night? I cannot say I meant to decorate that way. Where I’m from, these masks and rugs are used to make our homes seem snug. They give me a sense that I’m home with my family, though I’ve roamed far away from there, you see. They’re not meant to be scary.”
Pinkie gave an uneasy look around again. Catching sight of a large, pink flower on a shelf, she trotted over to it. “Ooh, pretty! What’s this?”
“That is a plant called Heart’s Desire,” the zebra replied. “It helps to light a pony’s fire. It works on other creatures, too. It makes them find what they love to do. I bought some in Ponyville fair, though I need more than you see there.”
“Oh, Daisy said something to me yesterday,” Pinkie remembered. “She’s been trying to sell Heart’s Desire for a really long time, and she was super excited that she finally sold some. But she said it was some kind of creepy enchantress that bought it. Uh, I guess she thought you were somepony else.”
The pink pony awkwardly avoided Zecora’s gaze, embarrassed at having revealed her friend’s harsh words. Zecora, however, merely smiled. “Enchantress, yes, in a way, that’s true. I’m known to mix all kinds of brews. My spells are simple, mere tricks, but their effects always stick, and I’ve been known to cast a curse. As to being called creepy, well, I’ve been called much worse.”
Pinkie shook her head. “It was still mean of her to call you that. I’m sorry. I don’t understand why the ponies in this town are all being so mean to you. Maybe at your party, they can get to know you better and realize they don’t have to be scared!”
“Pinkie, there’s no need to be sorry,” Zecora said. “But what’s this you say about a party?”
Pinkie perked up. “Oh yeah!” she exclaimed. “Whenever I find somepony new in town, I try to make them feel all super-duper welcome by throwing them a welcome party! It gives them a chance to make new friends, because it’s no fun being all lonely and sad in a new place with no friends at all! Gosh, that’d be just the worst! So, when can we have yours?”
Zecora laughed an odd laugh; in another context, it might have sounded like a villainous cackle. “Goodness, Pinkie, that sounds quite nice. Perhaps I will take your advice. A party would be just fine to open everypony’s minds. Two days from now would be the best; it gives others time to be less stressed.”
Pinkie danced gleefully. “I just know everypony’s going to like you once they really meet you,” she promised.
“I hope the same. Having no friends is rather lame,” Zecora agreed.
Pinkie deflated a bit. “I thought we were friends?” she asked pitifully.
Zecora’s eyes widened. “I am sorry. Are we truly? To say ‘none’ was quite unruly. I thought that since we did not know each other well, it was not so. I meant not to lower your morale; I did not know that we were pals.”
Pinkie looked at Zecora with a mixture of pity and humor. “Well, that’s a bummer!” she commented. “I already said we were friends, remember? Even if everypony else hates you, you’ve still got one friend! Oh, uh, not that everypony will hate you! Just, you know, if.”
Zecora laughed. “Of course, my dear, in Ponyville, they don’t know that I’m quite evil.”
Pinkie froze. “Wh—What did you say?” Rarity’s voice seemed to echo in her head: “She seems a bit shady to me.”
Zecora calmly repeated, “I’m evil, Pinkie Pie, I said. I use my spells to raise the dead. With one small look, you’re in a trance. I’ll paralyze you with a dance. This cauldron here is for special brews, especially my favorite: pony stew. I’ll curse the one who wakes my wrath; then, with their blood, I’ll take a bath.” She grinned wickedly.
Pinkie’s eyes were larger than Zecora’s creepy cauldron. “But—but… why?” she whimpered.
Zecora laughed again. “I’m a zebra, and that’s what we do. As a pony, it must mystify you. There’s reasons why we disagree. But yet, I live here, in this tree, so close to ponies who live free, just waiting to bend down for me. You’re so naïve, I must admit, it’s easy to fool you with my wit.”
Pinkie slowly crept her way over to the door. “So, no one in Ponyville is safe?”
“What you say is true. None of them — not even you.” Zecora replied, still grinning widely.
Pinkie dashed out the door, muttering, “Gottagosorrybye!”
Zecora’s face dropped. “Oh dear,” she said to herself. “Perhaps I went too far. Her opinion of me is surely scarred. I only thought that we were chums. Oh, how could I have been so dumb! I must let her know it’s all a joke before she tells the other folk.”
The zebra gave chase, trampling over the forest floor in an attempt to catch up to her pony friend. Before she could be stopped, Pinkie skidded into town and bolted down the streets, yelling, “Evil! EVIL!”
An annoyed, purple pony popped her head out of one of the houses. “Pinkie,” she reprimanded. “What are you yelling about?”
Pinkie glanced furtively around her to make sure they were alone, then screeched to a stop. “Oh, Berry Punch, it’s just awful!” she said. “I tried to make friends with the new pony in town, but she told me that she eats ponies and plays with dead things! And then! Oh my goodness, I’ll have to tell the mayor! She said that nopony in Ponyville is safe!”
Berry Punch frowned. “Is this some kind of joke, Pinkie? It’s not funny.”
Pinkie shook her head emphatically. “Cross my heart, hope to fly, stick a cupcake in my eye. I would NEVER joke about something this serious!”
“Is it that pony that showed up yesterday?” Berry inquired. Pinkie nodded. “I knew there was something wrong about her,” Berry continued. “I was talking to my sister last night, and she said that she just kept digging at the ground. Who does that? Evil ponies, I guess is who. And Daisy said she only talked in rhymes, like she was putting some sort of hex on her.”
Zecora heard the two ponies’ hushed voices and slowed to a trot. Cursing herself under her breath, she muttered, “That was a very stupid trick. And digging’s just a nervous tic!”
Berry Punch continued, “So, Pinkie… I guess she’s not getting a welcome party, then?”
“Are you kidding?” Pinkie screeched. “Once I tell the mayor that we need to look out for her, I don’t think there’ll be a single pony who would be willing to even wave at her. It just makes me sick, what she was talking about.”
Berry brightened for a minute. “Well, I know the princess has a lot of stuff to deal with,” she proposed. “But… she’ll be visiting for the Summer Sun Celebration in a few weeks; maybe we can ask her for advice.”
“Yeah, maybe,” Pinkie replied despondently.
Zecora approached the pair quietly, still keeping out of their vision. Perhaps if she could think of a way to explain her joke; it had been in bad taste, sure, but she wasn’t serious at all!
Berry hugged Pinkie to try to calm her down. “Come on,” she said. “I’ll go with you to Town Hall.”
The two galloped off. Zecora considered following, but her hooves were sore from the long chase. “And they would surely not trust me,” she muttered sadly. “I’ve not been here as long as Pinkie.”
Zecora trudged home, dragging her tail behind her. She needed to clear her head and think of a plan. The gloom of the forest made it seem almost welcoming to the frustrated zebra. She kicked open her door and grumbled as she smelled something burnt. Of course; she had made soup for lunch, but had never blown out the fire. She kicked sand over the fire, crying out as she reached too far and burnt her hoof. As she dragged her pot down to a river to rinse out the burnt crud, she made a promise to herself.
“Who needs those ponies anyway? By myself I can pass the day. There’s food in the forest, and herbs in the ground; I’ll avoid Ponyville while those rumors resound. Soon, they’ll all forget about me, and I can try again. Hopefully.”