The wagon rolled and bumped over the uneven trail, heading north at a glacial pace. Maud was not a fast pony. Maud was a sightseer, and she paused to look at any unusual rocks that lay at the side of the road.
Almost all rocks were unusual or special in their own way, so she stopped often.
The past three days had been rather boring.
Maud was an odd companion. There were times where she talked and times where she was silent to the point of being annoying. When asked about it, Maud had explained that she only said something when it needed to be said, and that she enjoyed the quiet. Rocks were quiet and Maud said that she was a rock pony, not an earth pony.
As the wagon bumped along, Tarnish held up the mirror, staring at it, and wishing it would work so he would have somepony to talk to. It glowed and grew warm in the sun, the silver had a comforting heat in the grip of his fetlock.
“Twilight Sparkle?”
“Tarnished Teapot, is that you?” a voice replied.
It worked!
“Tarnished Teapot, this is Twilight Sparkle… I can hear you… you need to leave your mirror out in the sun so it will recharge.”
Tarnish peered into his mirror and Twilight Sparkle’s face began to appear in its reflective surface. “How do you know that?”
“The past few days, I have done a little research,” Twilight Sparkle replied. “One of Princess Celestia’s assistants went missing about a hundred years ago. She had a magic mirror powered by the sun to keep in contact with Princess Celestia. She also had magic saddlebags. There aren’t very many magic mirrors.”
“I found the mirror with some saddlebags. I think I found the missing unicorn too. I found some bones in the bottom of a burrow. She fell down and broke both of her front legs. I fell down in there too. I guess the mirror was useless to call for help in the dark.”
“Or maybe it had stayed inside of the saddlebags for too long and lost its charge,” Twilight Sparkle said. Her face brightened. “Princess Celestia wants you to use the mirror so you and I can talk.”
“Princess Celestia?” Tarnish asked.
“I spoke to her when I started to research mirrors… anyway, she wants me to help you, which I planned to do anyway,” Twilight Sparkle replied. “When your mirror has enough charge, I should be able to see you. I am going to start carrying around a little mirror with me so you’ll be able to contact me. If you say Princess Celestia’s name, you can contact her as well. If a pony is around a mirror when their name is called, they will hear their name coming out the mirror.”
“Neat.”
“It is, really. The magic to make these mirrors is long gone and only a few of them remain in existence. They’re kind of sentient and grow attached to their owners. They are very hard to break, but they can shatter, so be careful.”
“Twilight Sparkle?”
“Yes?”
“I really am sorry…”
“I am too.”
The image in the mirror fuzzed over. “I think the mirror is dying… look, I have a message for Pinkie Pie… tell her that Maud sends her love.”
“Maud?” Twilight asked.
“I’m with Maud now,” Tarnish replied.
“I’ll let her know—”
The mirror died, mid-sentence. Tarnished stared into the mirror, feeling a little homesick, missing his mother, and feeling a little lonesome. Ahead of him, he heard Maud say, “A rock is you. You are a rock. Your solidness is a manifestation of your verisimilitude.”
He had no idea what Maud was going on about, but she had curious tastes in poetry. Ahead of them was grass and in the distance, the tall trees of the eastern edge of the Everfree were visible. Tarnish watched the scenery, ignoring the painful throb in his leg.
“To spend the day in grey, to wait and while the hours away, to sleep under sky and to rest in the clay, I want to be a rock.”
Tarnished Teapot turned and looked at the odd smock wearing pony. He blinked a few times, watching as she moseyed along in no big hurry, pulling the wagon without any signs of strain or effort.
She was strange. Not that Tarnish was complaining. Tarnish was in no position to be picky about his friends at this point in his life.
“And now, all the words that rhyme with rock: estok, kroc, kwok, krok, baack, antilock, chock, hock, hoch, jock, joch, krock, gohlke, barach, bloc, fyock, blok, tock…” Maud drew in a deep breath, her barrel swelling. “Proch, prock, schaack, mok, dock, overstock, kloc, vlok, knock, knoch, crock, ad-hoc, shock, roch, plock, rocke, ploch, waack, boch, bock, knaack, shaak, zoch, bach, haak…” Maud paused, looked skywards, blinked a few times as she watched the birds overhead, and then continued: “Schoch, spock, flock, croc, haake, clock, pock, poch, smock—I wear a smock because it rhymes with rock you know, if you are listening, Tarnished Teapot… rocque, groch, pathak, srock, elcock, gocke, chok, caulk, bok, shrock, bloch, block, schrock, sok, walk, skroch…”
No doubt, Maud was one weird mare, yet there was something attractive about her.
“...vocke, haacke, skok, undock, brock, kok, lok, sock—I once wore a sock, stocke, hassebrock, stock, schlock, bohlke, knaak, interlock, antiknock, frock—do you think I would look pretty in a frock?” Maud inhaled once more and continued northwards with the wagon. “Schock, restock, unlock, chalk, haack, cock… hmmm… locke, lock, loch, nock, stokke, brok, broc, adcock, laake, hoc, alcock, strock, laack, moch, mock, klock, wok, o'clock, klocke, kock, mach, maack, sprock, staack, doc, floc… I can’t think of any more words that rhyme with rock.”
Stunned, Tarnished Teapot stared at Maud with his mouth hanging open. He had no words to describe his experience and he stared at the monotoned mare with wide eyes. She had turned her head around and was looking at him.
“Is something wrong?” Maud asked. “Does my poetry bother you?”
“How do you do that?” Tarnish replied after finding his voice.
“Do what?” Maud blinked and looked bored.
“You would look pretty in a frock,” Tarnish said.
“You actually listened. Most ponies just tune me out. I can’t believe it.” Maud turned her head around so she could watch the road and continued northwards.