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// Introduction to Rule Bending 
// Story: Insert Pages Here 
// by Paintedpalette 
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Ponyville was pleasant, it had not been my first choice in relocating but for what I intended to do with myself this typical formulating junction would be the best option available. It's difficult you know, creating something out of nothing. You can stay ignorant to the facts and let those blind spots become vacant lots to establish your own plot, or you can research- find every twisting corner and allow every blockade and rule of the pre-established world become a proper barrier to creating your own. In the end, it is only our own mental capacity and the willingness to adjust to change that limits us to these options. The Ponyville my hooves trot along through is like any other in passing appearance. Grass retains its pale bluish green color. Bountiful displays set in shop windows set a backdrop of splashing color. Just gaudy enough to keep a permanent poise of “Happiness” or “perfection” but not so that the homes of its citizens are a mismatched spatter of coloring. There is uniformity in mostly thatched roofs and criss-crossed external support beams, 'cept the one or two individuals with brick housing or a slated roof.

Everything smells fresh. Morning bakery wafts through the town carrying the scent of hearty bread and succulent sweets. The world is open above without a cloud to taint perfect blue skies. Occasionally as I walk, getting a real world- three dimensional baring, the sudden and intimidating shadow of another Pegasus while flit over my body, casting momentary darkness onto the few inches of land I am on before darting off into the distance without knowledge of how sudden that fear gripped my heart before vanishing completely. Perhaps wings were not the best choice for my body.

It was difficult, choosing expression and form to fit my otherworldly being. I imagine a borne pony would have the same difficulty if they could do it from scratch. Or maybe not… I imagined the inhabitants of this world were much more at peace with their bodies at least generally speaking. 
Looking around, those few early risers seemed completely comfortable and able to move with ease. Some cast a friendly hello, old timers or the observant; happy to see a new face in their town. Undoubtedly they took notice to a few differences to my form. Not tell tail signs of foreign magic but oddities I had put in places with the intention of drawing more attention to myself. This was my world though longer than I these ponies might have known it. Facts and mental blockades would not become a hindrance to any desires or changes I had for it. How fortunate for them that I was a creature bound by private law.

Among these laws is the Acknowledgement of Fortune[1]  Over my brick dusted back I carried a hefty haul of supplies, useful -though without the kind of value that would earn me rank or a proper home in this new town. There were ‘simple’ things that would give no more the advantage than that of a climber preparing to submit their mountain with the proper tools and resources required. Surely a few frivolous comfort objects, but nothing so OP as a helicopter or extendable, pocket sized escalator. Some of the contents Hidden within the various pockets of my saddlebag included: several small tubes of yellow and orange paint, a few brushes. A warm rolled blanket, A sealed jar of black ink, one small sack with a couple hundred bits (302 to be exact) and two large boxes of dog biscuits. 

A tiny wriggling beast at my tail would occasionally bound up, balancing onto her hind legs to get a sniff at the bag's contents. She was a wiry thing, ginger and black with dark brown eyes and an otter's length in body. I was unsure what dogs would be appropriate in Equestria but thought no one would mind much if my girls tagged along inside this endless dream. The second of the pair was an old, elegant thing. Her soft gestures were only idle groans or shifts throughout the night while she rode bareback, balanced between my snowy flank and a fair of clay colored shoulders, cradled by a large set of folded brown wings.

I breathed in the morning air, keeping to the edge of town and trailing alongside the forest until sparse growth gave way to a large grove of dark and twisting trees. The word “Everfree” played record somewhere in my mind and I nodded. 

This would work for now.

Choosing a remote spot would in time prove to be the most effective place for me to both comfortably get acquainted with the bubbly shaped world around me but likewise give privacy to my profuse use of foul foreign language. By noon I had located a comfortably sized tree about fifty or so feet inside of Everfree Forest, sturdy enough to take the rough remodeling treatment that would be required to turn it into a semi proper home. 

My dogs, the elder and pup named Sadie and Winnie in that respective order spent a good portion of the day curled around eachother, occasionally rousing from their slumber to bother me with some complaint for another biscuit or newly developed interest in my tools. By the time the sun had begun to set on my first day in Ponyville I had managed to weave together something of a nest from pliable saplings and the softest materials I could find. Which largely equated to a mattress full of dried leaves a few feathers and my one single blanket. I recall falling to sleep that night with one single regret vibrating off of the walls of my skull. I should have made myself a Unicorn. 

Wings were clumsy limbs only good for the purpose of two things, those being flying, and partial cover from a downpour of rain that lasted throughout most of the evening. Weather schedules were something I had not considered checking in on. Was it common practice for a pony to find the nearest weather team member and inquire to whether or not they should have to worry about rain later in the day after clear skies and warm earth baked roads. Deciding it was in my best interest to stretch, I shifted over in the nest only to hear a creak and tiny whimper beneath me. The girls were fortunate in their small sausage like stature to stay curled in warmth beneath my wings through the entire storm. Where my mane and tail looked like a gnarled mess of twigs and twine, their coats still appeared sleek and warm, the only complaint being their owners unfamiliar pony anatomy accidentally clubbing a hoof off of one of their heads while I shifted to stretch out in our tiny new home. 

It hadn't been a brilliant start to the first fun filled day, though sleep was sleep and well rested or not I had gained enough through the evening to motivate myself and haul me and the dogs down onto surprisingly dry grass below. I looked up through narrowed eyes at the sun streaking in rays through dense foliage. Of course it was dry down here, all of the rain was soaked up in my bed. This was an easy fix though, one I felt no remorse in imagining away with the turn of my head and the flick of an ear. No one had seen me go through the effort or pain of making this less than charming makeshift bed in the canopy, and no pony had to suffer with me through the rain all night. A little cheating for mild benefit would do no harm or interfere with my story's progression.

So while my hooves carried me forward, further into the light of a new day, I tantalized my thoughts with a little decadence. Calling on the rain to melt away a sudden dry softness to my bed, several more blankets all folded and fresh smelling up in the treetop- and one conveniently placed branch new to this tree that would serve as a roof should the weather think twice on making me have to cheat again.