• Published 16th Mar 2018
  • 2,607 Views, 153 Comments

Ponies, Portals, and Physics: A Practical Study on Unscheduled Interplanetary Excursion - superpurple



A student is accidentally transported to Equestria through a mirror portal. Lost and confused in an unfamiliar world, he struggles to get home. Circumstances conspire to make things difficult. The ponies he meets do the opposite.

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2.4 - Canterlot

...inclusion of the low-pass filter had the desired effect of lowering the AC voltage ripple to an average of twenty millivolts peak-to-peak, with spikes of approximately ninety millivolts peak-to-peak once per period, both of which were well within the specified maximum ripple of one-hundred fifty—

“We’ve arrived, sir.”

“Bweh?” My head jerked up from my lab notebook and I stared in confusion at the stallion at the end of the car.

“We’ve arrived at Canterlot station,” he—the conductor—repeated. “You can disembark now.”

“Oh, right. Thanks,” I said with a nod and got to work collecting the mess of loose papers around me into a stack that I then stuffed between the pages of my lab notebook.

Over the last few hours, I’d managed to distract myself by filling six more pages with detailed notes on my personal experiences over the last two days.1 When I’d sufficiently exhausted that I’d read a few absolutely-riveting chapters of my electronics textbook until I got bored and went back to Friday’s lab notes to fill some of the sections I’d been too lazy to fill in at the time. Going back through it and filling in the details from memory proved to be an excellent distraction. And I’d even managed to somewhat get a hang of handwriting so it was actually legible.
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1Read: Bitching about griffons and magic.
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That done and with the notebook safely tucked away into my bags, I then turned to deal with the next problem: the fact that somehow—through all the commotion of the train pulling into the station, the conductor’s announcement, and my shuffling around—Cinnamon remained resolutely asleep by my side. She was an impressively heavy sleeper.

“Hey, Cinnamon. We’re here,” I said, raising my voice. Her ear flicked at the mention of her name but she didn’t seem to wake. I gave my right shoulder a shake to jiggle the wing she was laying on, which had an effect opposite to the desired on: in response to the movement, Cinnamon just stretched a bit and nuzzled deeper into the feathers, smiling contentedly in her sleep.

Cinnamon was an impressively heavy and cuddly sleeper.

I reached out and gave her shoulder a little shake and was rewarded for my efforts by having my hand snatched up and hugged. I rolled my eyes and sighed. This was getting ridiculous. I wasn’t even sure anymore if she was even still asleep or was awake and just fucking with me. So I gave the arm she was clinging to a vigorous shake and yelled, “Ay! Cinnamon.! Wake up!” from only a few inches away from her ear.

That finally got the desired effect from her, but not without some suboptimal side effects. When she awoke she did so suddenly, eyes flying open, head jerking back, and forehoof shooting forward—right into my face—before sliding off the seat with flailing limbs and a cry of surprise.

I emitted a reflexive “Squark!” and reeled back from the sudden blow, clutching my beak with both hands and hissing through gritted teeth.

A moment later, Cinnamon popped up from the floor, looking around in confusion. Then she saw me cradling my face and in an instant she was right up on me and in my face, eyes wide with worry. “Oh Celestia. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to hit you. Are you okay?”

I blinked rapidly at the sudden space invasion and stuck out my hand to gently hold her back at arm’s length. Thankfully, she relented and gave me a bit of breathing room, but still hovered close. I sat there cross-eyed and worked my jaw up and down while inspecting my face for damage. My upper beak certainly smarted when I poked it, but everything seemed to still be in place and nothing was loose or broken. “I think I’m good. Yeah. Just, uhh… wow. Hooves hurt. Who knew?” I chuckled weakly and fixed my askew glasses.

Cinnamon stepped back and settled onto her haunches on the other side of the seat. “Sorry. You startled me. I didn’t mean to hit you in the face.”

“Nope. Yep. Pretty sure I had that one coming. Shouldn’t have had my face there. But you weren’t waking up and I needed my limbs back,” I said and began manually stretching my wings out. “We’re here, by the way.”

“Yeah, I noticed,” she said and hopped down off the seat to put on her boots and bags.

I finished stretching as much as I could in the confines of the train car—which wasn’t much—and then packed them back safely away in my jacket. I scooped up the rest of the bags and we made our way out of the train.

The conductor stallion was standing outside the door as we disembarked. “You two have a good night.”

“Thanks, we will,” Cinnamon replied cheerily.

I followed Cinnamon onto the platform and into the cool night air—noticeably colder now that we were up in the mountains. Cinnamon trotted confidently out into the streets. She seemed to know exactly where she was going so I stuck close by her side as she led the way.

Even with what little I could see, I could tell that Canterlot was a big city. Probably bigger than any I’d ever been to personally. Maybe not by area, but definitely by density. There was very little unused space on the mountainside. And while it probably wasn’t reaching population densities achievable if it’d been full of skyscrapers or whatnot, what it lacked in quantity, Canterlot made up for in quality.

Grandeur seemed to be the name of the game here. Streets and buildings made from carved white stone and trimmed with gold and purple, easily exceeding the vibrancy of the many multicolored ponies who still filled the streets. Opulent towers poked up throughout the skyline. Waterfalls poured off the mountain, between the tiers of the city and off the side of the cliffs. And of course, there was the view. Whenever we passed through an intersection of major roads I had a clear view out to the edge of the city and off the mountainside.

Though there was something that bothered me about the view, and it took me a while to pinpoint just what it was. When I did, I stopped in my tracks so I could be sure I was seeing it right. I couldn’t see the horizon. Past the moonlit edge of the city there was nothing but open air and the stars beyond, with a not-insignificant number of the clouds being at an angle below horizontal. I did some ballpark order-of-magnitude calculations and came to the definitive conclusion that these mountains were—at a minimum—really fucking tall.

Cinnamon noticed I’d stopped and she called back, “Something wrong, Birdy?”

“Hmmm? Oh, no, it just really hit me how stupidly high up we are,” I said and resumed walking.

She nodded. “Yeah. The ponies who built Canterlot wouldn’t settle for anything less than the highest point on the entire continent. Probably trying to one-up Cloudsdale, I think. Anyways, Canterlot is high up enough that it’ll probably take you a bit to get used to the thinner air. Don’t wanna overexert yourself until then.”

Oh, yeah. We were definitely high enough that if this planet was anything like Earth—which seemed to be more-or-less the case—that I should’ve been experiencing symptoms of altitude sickness: dizziness, shortness of breath, ears popping on the ride up. But I hadn’t gotten any of that. Only thing I’d noticed was the drop in temperature.

“I don't think that’ll be an issue. I feel fine. I think my bird bits are actually doing me some good for once.”

“Oh right, pegasi don’t have any problems with the altitude, makes sense griffons wouldn’t either. I’m not that lucky, though. I’ve been down in the lowlands for too long. I’m definitely feeling the altitude. Good thing I’ve got you to carry my stuff, eh?”

Now that she pointed it out, Cinnamon was clearly exerting herself a lot more than she’d been during this afternoon’s march. She was breathing more heavily and I didn’t have to struggle just to keep pace. “Want me to lighten your load some more?”

“Thanks, but I should be fine. We’re almost there.”

Sure enough, it wasn’t long before we turned off the main streets and into a residential area with a tight cluster of nearly-identical homes, and then to one in particular that still had its interior lights on.

“Oh good, she’s still up,” Cinnamon said and knocked on the front door. We both waited on the doorstep for a minute or so before an older unicorn mare opened the door. She had a light purple coat and auburn hair that was currently wrapped up in curlers. She stared up at me from behind her thick-framed glasses.

“Hello?” the mare said to me, the look of confusion plain on her face.

“Hey,” I said and returned the confused look. I glanced down at Cinnamon and took a couple steps back so the smaller mare was more visible.

“Hey Auntie Lilac,” she said with a wave.

The unicorn seemingly noticed Cinnamon for the first time and her face immediately lit up. “Cinnamini!” she said and swooped in to wrap the smaller mare up in a tight hug. “How’s my favorite niece?”

Cinnamon giggled and returned the embrace. “Favorite niece? Don’t let ‘Nilla hear that. She’ll get all jealous and try to usurp me.”

“Oh hush. It's no secret and she doesn’t mind. And you didn’t answer my question. How are you?”

Cinnamon rolled her eyes. “I’m doing good. It's nice to see you, Auntie,” she said, nuzzling her aunt's neck.

While the two ponies cuddled on the doorstep, I stood by and casually inspected the nearby flower garden. After what would have definitely been an uncomfortably long time by the standards of another planet, I loudly cleared my throat.

“Oh. Sorry, Birdy,” Cinnamon said sheepishly and slipped out of the hug. She gestured to me. “Auntie Lilac, this is my friend, Garrett. Garrett, Aunt Lilac.”

I smiled and held my hand out to Lilac. “Pleasure to meet you, ma’am.”

She put her hoof in my hand and I carefully shook it. “Nice to meet you as well, Garrett. And please, just call me Lilac. I’m not old enough to be a ma’am yet.” She back backed inside and held the door open with her magic. “Come in.”

I followed Cinnamon inside, keeping a mistrustful eye on the door until my tail cleared the threshold. The interior of the home was compact, even by pony standards. Much like Canterlot in general, there was very little unused space. Nearly every bit of wall or floor space was in use in one way or another. But not to the point of being cluttered or cramped. Instead, it made the home feel cozy. Lived in. Homey. It was just a little bit of a challenge for me to navigate between the bits of furniture, especially with the added bulk of the bags I was carrying.

Lilac closed the door gently behind us. “So, what brings you by at this hour. I didn’t know you were even back in town.”

“We just got off the train, actually,” Cinnamon replied.

“Ah. What’s the occasion? Finally stopping by for a visit?”

“A bit more than a visit. I was getting tired of it down there in Riverstone and decided it was time I came back to the city. So I quit my job there,” Cinnamon explained.

Lilac gave Cinnamon a level look. “Quit, or got fired from?”

“...A little of both?” Cinnamon replied with an all-to-innocent smile.

Lilac just hummed and nodded slowly, the look on her face saying this wasn't the first time she’d heard this. “So! Riverstone. Is that were you two met?” she asked, her gaze shifting to me.

“Uh, yeah. Well. I uhh…” I trailed off. How much of the situation were we going to share? I wasn’t sure. I shot Cinnamon a pleading look.

Thankfully, Cinnamon rescued me and took the lead. “Yeah, we met in Riverstone. Birdy here was traveling in the area when he had something of an unexpected landing. An unexpected and hard landing.”

Lilac gasped and gave me a look of shock. “Oh no. You crashed?”

Ha ha. Did I ever. Ok. Thanks, Cinnamon. That was a story I could work with. The best lies were more-or-less the truth, right? “Yeah, I don’t really remember too much of what happened, just that one moment I was cruising along, the next I was face down in the dirt, aching all over. Jacked up my wing, too.” I turned to the side to show her my wings being held in place by my jacket.

“That's terrible. Did you break something?” Lilac asked.

“Oh, it's not too bad,” I said. “Just pulled a muscle. It’ll heal in time, but it's enough to keep me grounded until it does.”

Cinnamon continued. “And in typical flier fashion, he wasn’t really prepared for an extended journey on the ground.”

“I wasn’t really planning to spend any amount of time in Equestria,” I added. “But then I got stranded right in the middle of it, without a clue as to what to do. Fortunately, Cinnamon here was generous enough to lend me a hand. Err, hoof.”

“Yep. I offered to help him out until he was able to get home,” Cinnamon said.

Lilac grinned and ruffled her niece’s mane with a hoof. “Atta girl. Always looking out for others.”

“So, yeah. I’m moving back here to Canterlot. And here I am. With a friend.”

“And you need a place to stay,” Lilac completed.

Cinnamon nodded and said, “Yeah, just until I can get my own place. And umm…” Her ears flattened back and she awkwardly rubbed her foreleg. “Mom doesn’t really know I’m back in town yet. I’d like to keep it that way a bit longer. So I came to you. Sorry to just drop in on you like this with no notice.”

Lilac waved a hoof dismissively. “Nonsense. You’re still welcome here anytime you need, no matter the reason.” Then she turned to me. “And the same for you too, hun. If my ‘Mini saw fit to help you out, I see no reason to turn you away either. You two make yourselves at home here for as long as you need.”

I bowed my head to Lilac. “Thank you very much, Lilac.”

“Thanks, Auntie. You’re the best,” Cinnamon said and hugged her aunt.

Lilac gave her a quick hug back. “You’ll need to move some boxes off the bed—I’ve been storing some things in there—but otherwise the guest room is still all made up and ready for you. Although, it might be a bit more of a squeeze than before.” Then she loudly whispered to me, “Cinnamon’s never brought anypony as big as a griffon home before.”

I stiffened and waved my hands back and forth. “Oh, no, we’re not like that—”

“We could be~!” Cinnamon sing-songed.

“—We’re not like that,” I repeated firmly.

“Really now?” Lilac said, raising her eyebrow at Cinnamon. “Well then. My apologies for assuming, Garrett. It's just that I do believe that this might be a first for her,” she said with a chuckle.

Cinnamon huffed and folded her arms across her chest. “It’s not.” Then she scrunched up her face in thought. “At least I think it’s not…”

“In any event,” Lilac continued, “I suppose one of you can take the couch.” She pointed to the floral-upholstered couch in the nearby living room. “It’s old, probably not the most comfortable to sleep on. But if you’d prefer not to share the bed…”

I cut her off with a wave of my hand. “Last night I slept in a bush on the side of the road. The couch will be perfect.”

“Well alright, I’ll get you some pillows and sheets from the closet,” Lilac said.

With it up in front of me, I noticed just how dirt-caked my claws had gotten. I looked down at the rest of myself and frowned. “Oh, and speaking of sleeping in a bush. I'm kinda disgusting and would hate to destroy your furniture with mud. Do you have a shower I could use?”

Lilac gave me an apologetic smile. “Ohh… Sorry, hun. No shower. Just a tub that you are welcome to try to use. Bathroom is at the end of the hall by the—” she was cut off by a long yawn. She looked at the clock on the wall. “Oh dear. Looks like it's that time already.” She turned to Cinnamon. “Now, I’d love to stay up and hear all about what you’ve been up to, and how you met such a handsome gentlegriffon, but I really should be getting to bed. I need to be up early for work tomorrow.”

“That’s fine, Auntie. We can talk tomorrow after your shift.” Cinnamon walked over and wrapped her aunt in a hug. “You go get your sleep.”

Lilac gave her a small nuzzle. “I’ve missed having you around. G’night, ‘Mini.”

“Night auntie,” Cinnamon said and returned the nuzzle.

Lilac smiled and walked off, disappearing around the corner. After the sound of a closing bedroom door came, I shuffled over to beside Cinnamon. “So… ‘Cinna-mini’?” I said simply, grinning stupidly.

She rolled her eyes and sighed. “Yes. That's one of the nicknames she and Sis gave me. I’m the shortest in the family despite being the only earth pony. Sis thinks it’s hilarious. Auntie thinks it’s cute. I think it’s whatever because we all know that if push comes to shove, I could buck either of them—or anypony else—clear across the room if I feel like it.”

I casually leaned over so I loomed head-and-shoulders above the small mare. “Whatever you say, Mini.”

She snorted and poked me in the chest with her hoof. “I could probably knock you all the way off the mountain, you dang pile of feathers. Now go wash up before I prove it.” Then she turned and walked off to the kitchen.

I chuckled and set the bulk of my stuff down in a pile by the couch before making my way down the hall to the bathroom.

It wasn't until I was actually in the bathroom that it dawned on me why Lilac had said I could “try” to use the tub. There was a bathtub, yes. But just like everything else in the home, it was… compact. Even by pony terms. There was no way I was getting into it. I’d probably fit my head but nothing more. I sighed. After three days trudging through, and occasionally laying in, mud and dirt without a chance to clean off, I’d take what I could get.

I turned on the water and started the tub filling, making use of the bathroom’s other utilities while it did. When the water in the tub was a few inches deep I turned off the faucet and swiftly dunked my face below the surface, swishing back and forth until my entire head was sufficiently drenched. I pulled it out and let the bulk of the water drip down my face for a minute or so before squeezing out the rest and getting to work scrubbing three days of accumulated dirt off my hands and feet. Thankfully, the wraps I’d had on while walking around outdoors had kept the bulk of the dirt off of me, but it was still disgusting to see just how much dirt came off my hands from only a cursory washing. I’d been eating with those hands! How the hell did ponies live like this?

I also took a few minutes to give the aforementioned wrappings a quick wash. The lightweight fabric they were made from was already looking pretty tattered and had holes from stepping on particularly jagged stones. At this rate, I doubted they’d last more than a few days before I had to replace them entirely. Luckily, I had bedsheet to spare, so that was something I could do easily. Satisfied with the basic cleaning, I drained the water and returned to the main room.

Cinnamon was reclining in an armchair reading something when I returned. As soon as I stepped into the room, her ears turned in my direction and she looked up. “Finally, you’re out.” She hopped off the seat and trotted briskly towards the bathroom. “I made some food. Yours is on the table,” she said as she brushed past me and closed the door behind her before I had a chance to reply.

I shrugged and sat at the table to eat the extra-late dinner she’d prepared. That done, I made my way to the living room. There was a pillow and some sheets there that I assumed Cinnamon must’ve fetched while I was washing up. I spread them out over the couch, put my jacket and drying footwraps in a neat pile next to the couch, and then settled down onto the couch. I laid back, closed my eyes, and tried my best to relax.

Sometime later the sound of returning hoofsteps came from the hallway. A few moments after they stopped, Cinnamon quietly called out to the room, “Where’re you at, Birdy?”

“Here,” I called back, not bothering to sit up.

The hoofsteps came around the end of the couch by my head. I tilted my head back to look at her from upside down.

“Sup,” I said.

“Already hitting the hay?” she asked.

“Ayup. Tired.”

“Mmm. Yeah, it's been a long day. I should probably be off to bed too.”

“Mhmm. G’night,” I said and closed my eyes again.

There was a pause. “…It’s just that after that nap on the train I’m not all that tired yet. I could definitely stay up a bit longer.”

“Hmmmm,” I hmmed.

“…Do some stuff. Y'know. Burn off some more energy.”

“Try to keep quiet if you do.”

Another, longer pause. “…Okay. Good night, Birdy.” She started walking off. Then she stopped. “Hey, if the couch doesn’t seem like it's doing it for you, you’re free to join me in the guest room. We could definitely share the bed. It’s a queen. And I’m not that big, we can make it work.”

I sighed heavily. “Good night, Cinnamon.”

She giggled. “Just putting it out there. Sleep well, Birdy.”

The lights clicked off and she walked off, the sound of her light hoofsteps fading away down the hall.

I lay there listening to the sounds of the city for a while. Though I was physically exhausted after a long day, my mind wasn’t nearly as tired. It was still a long, long while before sleep finally came to me.


It was not a peaceful night.

Creatures with impossibly large claws and far, far too many feathers haunted me in my sleep. Faceless agents that grabbed me and hurled me into the surrounding darkness. Trapping me alone in the inky void.

No. Not alone. Things lurked in the shadows. Rustling came from all around. Eyes in the darkness. Many eyes. Swarming around me. Mobbing me.

Then another pair flared up. Large and blue. Watching me. A heaviness wafted off the presence. All the others faded back into the shadows, not daring to approach it.

I shrunk back. Tried to get away. To flee from this unknown. It did not pursue. It only watched. Observing from a distance.

When the bright eyes winked out there was nothing but stillness in the dark.


I awoke to the shrill beeping of my alarm. My arm shot out instinctively and I blindly groped around for my watch so I could silence the damned thing. When I couldn’t immediately find it, I cracked open an eye and was hit with a wave of confusion from the unfamiliar surroundings. Slowly, I processed where the hell I was.

Couch. Cinnamon’s aunt's place. Canterlot. Equestria. Not Earth.

Fuck.

Except that first part wasn't quite accurate. I wasn’t on the couch as I was supposed to be. At some point, I must’ve rolled off it because I was currently laying on the floor. That was fine, though. The rug was comfortable enough for me.

I found my watch and, with only marginal difficulty, hit the silence button. Then I brought the display close to my face to see just what unholy hour it was on this godforsaken morning. 8:31 am. Monday. I sighed heavily and rolled over away from the light, tucking my face into the darkness beneath the couch. With all the chaos of the last few days, I’d forgotten to disable my alarms for the upcoming vacation.

For a long while, I lay there on the floor. I didn’t want to get up. I wanted to go back to bed. Or die. Or both. Even across the fucking universe, some things remained unchanged and one of those things was that Monday mornings were truly the worst. But as much as I longed for it, for some damned reason sleep wasn’t coming back. So I just continued laying on the floor staring at the couch legs.

Then it struck me. The one thing that could make life worth living.

I smelled coffee.

Also breakfast. But mostly coffee.

Swiftly as I could midst my morning haze, I rolled up onto my feet. Then I stumbled across to the dining room, wings dragging along at my sides, not even bothering to figure out where the fuck my glasses might’ve gotten lost to. Glasses could wait.

Cinnamon and her aunt what’s-her-name were sitting at the table, chatting over breakfast. Cinnamon said something to me as I approached. A “good morning” I assumed. I merely grunted in response and continued past to the kitchen where the coffee was brewing. Talk could wait.

Quick as I could in my groggy state with still-unfamiliar limbs, I prepared a mug and then walked on three legs back to the table. I kicked a wing out of the way and crawled up into the chair where an empty third plate had been set. Food could wait. Coffee first.

I gingerly brought the mug up to take a sip, only to be caught off guard when it smacked into the stupid fucking beak that was still on my face.

Right. Beak. No lips. I had that shit to deal with. And scalding-hot beverages had that rather annoying feature where you can’t just upend them and pour it all into your mouth the way I’d been so far.

I sat in silence and glared at the mug as it cooled. Cinnamon and her aunt were talking to each other. Something about work for Cinnamon to do. Or the work her aunt was doing. Or something. I wasn’t really listening. I was waiting impatiently for either the temperature of the mug in front of me to drop sufficiently or my willingness to burn my mouth to rise.

Once those two levels crossed, I pounced the mug and swiftly gulped down half of it. I didn’t care that the two ponies were staring at me like I had a third eye. I paid them no mind. I simply sat back, cradling the mug close in my claws and drank the rest of the sweet sweet life-giving drink over the next several minutes.

At some point, Lilac got up from the table. Apparently, it was time for her to leave for work. She packed up a small set of saddlebags, had a predictably-cuddly goodbye with Cinnamon, and then left. I waved as she did. Cinnamon took the opportunity while she was up to detour to the kitchen and refill her plate. This gave me a while to sit and nurse my coffee in relative peace and silence, which suited me just fine.

Three days had been far, far too long to go without it. Never again.

Sadly, no good thing can last forever and it wasn’t long before my cup ran dry and Cinnamon took a long enough break from stuffing her face to breath.

“Good morning, Birdy,” she said with a wide smile.

“Mornin’,” I grunted and got up to refill my mug.

“So, what’s on the to-do list for today?”

“Come again?”

“Have you given any thought to what you’re gonna do next? Do you have a plan?”

“Do I have a plan? You’re asking me?” I shook my head. “My plan is still little more than figuring out fucking anything at all. I don’t know anything about this place. You’re the one who said that someone here might be able to help with that. Where would you start if you were in my shoes? If you had a question about magic or whatever,” I asked and returned to the table with the second cup of coffee.

“I don't really know,” she said with a shrug.

I narrowed my eyes. “You don’t know? Didn’t you live here, in this area, since, like, when you were a kid?” I pointed to one of the hanging photos with a filly that I was pretty sure was her. “That’s you, right?”

“Well, yeah,” she conceded. “But whenever I had a magic problem I’d just go bug my sister about it. But she moved out to Manehatten about a year ago.”

“I take it that’s not nearby.”

She shook her head. “About a whole day by train back east.”

“Lovely.” I slumped back in the seat. “Okay. We’re looking for some kind of specialist or something, right?”

She nodded. “Probably, yeah.”

I continued, “Subject matter experts. Is there, like—I don’t know—a school or something where they teach magic shit? Where there might be professors or whatnot. Those do exist here, right?”

“Schools? Yes. We have schools, Birdy,” she said flatly. “And yeah, there’s a bunch of academies in Canterlot. Pretty much all at least deal with magic, if not focus on it totally.”

“And they got professors or someone I could pester?”

“I imagine so. I’ve never been to one myself.”

“Alright, that’s probably where we—I—should start,” I said correcting myself. I didn’t want to imply anything on her part. I was imposing enough as it was.

Cinnamon, though, was having none of it. She rolled her eyes and said, “I’ll happily come with you, Birdy. I didn’t drag you to one of the largest cities in Equestria just to leave you and have you get lost or something.”

“Thanks. I can definitely use the help.”

“I know,” she said smugly. “It's no problem. We’ll head out once you’ve finished breakfast. Or started for that matter,” she said, pointing to my still-empty plate. “You gonna eat anything or are you just gonna drink all of auntie’s coffee?”

“I will. I just needed my coffee first,” I said defensively. Then a thought struck me. “Oh. Ooo. Err. Maybe we don’t need to go just yet.”

“No?”

“No. I uhh, I’ma need some time to think on how to approach this so whoever we talk to actually takes me seriously.”

“That’s fair, I suppose. Hmm.” She tapped a hoof in her chin. “Okay, how about this. I’ve got some errands I need to run in town. We can do those first while you do your thinking or whatever. Maybe talk to some ponies. Then we can harass some eggheads later when you’re ready.”

“Sure. Works for me.”

“Goody!” she said with a happy clap of her forehooves. “Now hurry up and eat so we can get to it. I want to get out there before it gets too busy.”