I found them one day, right at my doorstep. Six ponies, ones I had adored when I was younger, ones I never thought were real. All six of them, so young, just infants, really. No sign of who, or what, left them there.
I couldn’t abandon them. I might not have been in the best of straits myself, but at least I had food, shelter, a place to call home. They didn’t even have a blanket to protect them from the pouring rain. Cold, soaked, miserable, alone, helpless: they wouldn’t have lasted a week on their own.
Of course I took them in. I still remembered the ideals they had once stood for. How could I ever live with myself if I didn’t do my best to take care of them? Sure, I might have done some, less than respectful things, but I only did it because I wanted the best for them. Can you blame a father for looking out for his daughters? I admit, I had trouble sleeping some nights, but every time I saw the smiles on their faces, felt them cuddle up to me for warmth or comfort, heard them laugh, call me daddy, said they missed me, that they loved me, I knew I was doing the right thing. What is one old man, aged ahead of his time, compared to six young girls, so pure and innocent, thrust into a world that was not meant for them?
I’ll gladly pay whatever price you want. I’ll march forward towards my end, head held high. I’ll face my death at your hands, if thats is what it takes. Just, please, take care of them, I beg you. Applejack, Fluttershy, Pinkie Pie, Rainbow Dash, Rarity, Twilight Sparkle, take care of them. They’re still so young, just out of their teenage years, they can barely take of themselves. Please, grant this tired, weary soul just one last request. I’ll do anything you want, just make sure they’re cared for. Whatever you may do to me, nothing could be worse than knowing that my little girls are out there, alone.
Please.