After millennia of slumber, the ponies of Tambelon have awoken. For good or ill, they set their sights on the surface.
Thunderstruck was bored.
With nopony to talk to and nothing to do but wait for her captors to kill or release her, captivity had become more tedious than tense.
Through the window, she could see the sun setting again. One more day of being poked, prodded, and being force-fed odd concoctions.
“Can I leave now?” she asked her guard for the thousandth time, getting no response beyond a quick ear flick. Maybe he spoke another language.
*knock* *knock* *knock*
The guard walked to the door, only to get bashed in the face by it.
“What took you so long?”
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