After millennia of slumber, the ponies of Tambelon have awoken. For good or ill, they set their sights on the surface.
Thunderstruck was… alive? Her head still ached… but that meant she was alive, right?
After crashing down, ponies had swarmed over her and carried her off to… a medical tent of some sort? She couldn’t quite remember her trip and most objects in the room were unfamiliar to her. That everypony insisted on speaking some imaginary language only compounded her confusion.
Wait… the healer just said something. Forcing her eyes into focus, she saw the healer holding a vial of her dark red blood. He looked concerned.
“What’s the big deal?” Thunderstruck asked, “It’s not completely black.”
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