Perkins never was that big of a town. The houses were old enough to run on gas, a fortunate few having second floors as they rose over expansive bare backyards. A tight cluster of municipal buildings, convenience stores, and the occasional tightly cramped sales place huddled around a broken concrete main street almost as old as the bricks in their walls. From there, the roads split and spread quickly, attaching themselves to the offshoot highway nearby as soon as they could. Large plains of tall grass remained untouched, the occasional farm visible in the distance.
It wasn't a bad place, persay. It was modern enough that it had internet and all that, and it was quite relaxed... aside from the occasional pressure to do something outside, in the Oklahoma heat. Tornado warnings would come and go, but the terrifying windstorms usually touched down far away from the inhabited homes. And the apartment I had recently moved into with my grandmother was just large enough for the two of us.
Well... now. Now it was too large for the one of me.
What follows is a rough compilation of my journals in that time, alongside a few notes explaining the situation at the time. Feel free to mock my past self, I know I certainly do!
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A side story to The Last Pony On Earth. Cover art by Dally Daydream.
I don't think it's fair to list your story as a sequel to the canon one. That one may have a legitimate sequel later on.
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I apologize, that's an automatic addition to the description that happens when you link a story to another. I'll get rid of it.
I was wondering when we'd get one of these. This should be fun based on the tags.
Woah, now that's a really interesting formatting choice for the story. I feel like these might be authentically composed with an iPhone for how specific those errors are. I was starting to feel like the genre was already getting saturated with journals, but this format is a really interesting compromise.
Having a story where somebody apparently went back to annotate and comment on stuff defanately implies they did all right in the end (Memoirs don't generally get written by people who get sucked into air conditioners or crushed by a falling book.
They also usually only get written by someone who has an audience they think will be interested to read them, which makes me curious. You have to pity whatever alien factors gave someone a body to compete with seapony as most completely useless (Seaponies only qualify for this comparison while on land).
Look forward to seeing where this goes! Seems like a story that's just begging for some ungodly adorable cover.
Oooo. Breezie transformation. This one should be very interesting. Smaller size decreases the food and water requirements vastly, but also increases the challenge level of most other things.
A breezie, and in Oklahoma at that? I like the idea of this one quite a bit.
Oh, that's a rather bleak outlook.
Can't say I fault the logic, though. Hate to admit it, but I'd probably reach the exact same conclusions during the same circumstances.
Funny thing, I had just reread chapter 1 this morning, then I clicked over to my favorites page and saw the story had updated!
Rube Goldberg, a surprise breezie's best friend.
Taking an entire chapter trying to open a door? Yep, you definitely win the prize for 'most helpless protagonist'. Cala ain't got nothing on this. Though... this story doesn't have even an ounce of pain. Eh. To each their own.
Reading sometimes I feel like characters don't struggle enough. This poor "pony" spent an entire chapter just getting a door open. I hope the rest of their life isn't going to be this hard. Had a pretty funny image of him and several other breezies taking control of a museum's butterfly habitat as a refuge from the big, dangerous world. Probably not what you had in mind, but probably would be adorable.
At least he can fly right out of the gate. No pegasus gets that boon. Probably would've been totally helpless without it.
It's not easy being breezies.
What's this?
A new chapter? Yes, thank you! 
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you. I don't like you.
6181841 No one had said it yet...
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that pun was terrible. That's why.
6181908 Aww. I love you too.
I hope the wind remains calm. Being a Breezie is going to SUCK.
Great start. I would love to read more.
ATTENTION READERS!
The Rule of Three should not be taken literally!
It is highly dependent on location, season and your body, you will not live 3 days in the Sahara without water, and in the extreme cold, death can come in minutes, if not sooner, especially if wet.