Veins of Equestria
A cold grey drizzle fell upon the tundra city of Whinnipeg. Though overcast, there was just enough sunlight to turn the ashen remains of the vampiric rats into sparkling glittery smoke. Something about the glittering remains of the vapourised vampires offended Nut, but he couldn’t quite say what it was, or why he was offended by the sunlight-fueled sparkles. It was just wrong in some way, unnatural and unpleasant.
Caribou and ponies lived together in the tundra city, but shared one thing in common: they were impossibly polite and said ‘eh’ more than was strictly necessary. There was also the local custom of caribooping, their way of saying hello, goodbye, showing affection, or even just saying thank you. Nut couldn’t help but think about pathogen vectors and communicable diseases caused by touching mucus-spewing orifices.
“Nut, I’m hangry.”
“Oh, that is going down in your development journal, Miss Blossom.”
“But I am. I am hangry. If I don’t get something to eat, I’m gonna die.”
“Which would be a pity, since you just survived an airship crash. To have endured so much, only to expire from a lack of breakfast. By the way, your new denim vest looks fantastic on you.”
“Don’t change the subject. I need food. Do something!”
“Very well, but I intend to partake in the local cuisine. You could stand to have a little cultural enrichment. Let us sally forth to sample the local culinary delights.” He sighed, smiled, and his ears pricked. “I think the local caribou find your deer beanie quite endearing, Miss Blossom.”
“No more talk… food… food! Rawr!”
“Fine, fine, we’ll go get something to eat. It’s nice that we have food vouchers.”
A huge roaring fire crackled as it consumed black lumps of coal. The fireplace was an immense stone basin that dominated the room, and there was a massive copper plated construction just above it that funneled smoke up and away. Everything else about the building was rough-hewn timber—which Nut knew to be a status symbol of sorts because wood was in short supply on the tundra. The massive lodge was a hotel, a restaurant, and a casino all in one.
All of the passengers on the downed airship now stayed here for the time being.
“It was nice of total strangers to trust me with their foals,” Tater Blossom said while she waited on her food to arrive. “Made me feel good. Some of them even said I seem trustworthy. And while I don’t know how I seem trustworthy, I like that I am, and I hope to keep it that way.”
The thermometre just outside the window said it was fifty-eight degrees outside.
“Once I got over a-bein’ all scared, everything that happened was kinda exciting. It was a weird feelin’, knowin’ that I was in danger, but that I was also safe. I don’t s’pose that makes a heap of sense, but I don’t know of any other way to say it. Everypony had the danger dealt with in some way and when we actually crashed, it was more of a bump and less of a huge burnin’ explosion.” She turned her head to the left and looked at the airship, which now lay on its side.
“You did a fine job dealing with everything, Miss Blossom.”
“Thank you, Mister Nut. And you did good at… whatever it was you did.”
“Forgive me, Tater. It might take me some time to adjust. I am… formal.”
“We is friends. We should talk like it.”
“Yes, we are friends. As I mentioned, you are very deer to me—”
“No, don’t do that. That’s rude.”
He allowed himself a soft, quiet, polite chortle, one that surely wouldn’t disturb anypony.
“I miss Pod and Taffy already. They was nice to me. Like… sisters.”
Distracted, Nut found himself watching a couple just a few tables over. They were almost disgustingly lovey-dovey, perhaps because they’d survived the crash. Or maybe they were just really in love. The two stallions leaned over the table to be close to one another and were currently holding fetlocks. A pegasus and a unicorn, both of them making the most of what life had to offer—even if it was an unexpected crash in the tundra city of Whinnipeg.
His thoughts turned to Black Maple. Could a pegasus and a unicorn find happiness together? The answer seemed to be a resounding yes, if the couple a few tables over was anything to go by. It was as if the couple were oblivious to others around them, and they seemed to only have eyes for each other. Perhaps the brush with danger made them realise their importance to one another. It could very well be that hazard, and not absence as was commonly believed, made the heart grow fonder. The precariousness of life meant that there were no promises of another day to sort things out. Imminent imperilment tended to sort out one’s priorities.
“Yer missin’ Black Maple.”
He glanced in Tater Blossom’s direction, but offered no denial of her statement.
“I’ve been thinkin’ ‘bout Blackie for a while now, mostly last night when I was trying to keep myself calm.”
“Have you now,” he replied whilst he returned his attention to her.
“You know how you want to become a biologist doctor, and Pod wants to be a doctor for makin’ foals, and Taffy wants to be a doctor too?” Tater Blossom rested both of her front hooves upon the edge of the thick wooden table. “Well, I’m pretty sure that Blackie wants you in the same way that all three of y’all want to be a doctor. Call it a hunch.”
“That’s not quite the same thing.”
“How’s it different?”
“Well”—he tried to think of just the right words—“for starters, What Pod, Taffy, and I want is an education. A state of being. A distinction that comes with a piece of parchment. All that is dependent upon us getting what we want is hard work and effort. What Black Maple wants goes well beyond a state of being or attaining an inanimate object. Her desires depend upon me making a decision—and I reserve the right to choose.”
“I don’t see how that’s so different.”
“Tater, it is. I assure you.”
“The way I see it, Nut, is that she has to work hard and earn what she wants. And I think that so far, she’s been goin’ ‘bout it all wrong. But I don’t think it is all that different. Instead of being a doctor, she’ll be a wife. I get that you’re not a piece of paper, but you’re still something that she has to earn.”
Silent, Nut considered Tater Blossom’s words and did not dismiss them. She was learning how to assert herself, and he decided that was too important to discourage her. While he did not wholly agree with what she had to say, he could understand where she was coming from, and with some thought, could potentially shift his own opinion slightly.
The black lumps of coal in the stone basin crackled and popped while he studied Tater Blossom’s face. She was almost completely healed now, which left him to marvel at how hale and hearty she was. He could tell that she studied him as he made his observations of her, and she did so unabashedly, without reservation. A part of him wondered if this meant that they trusted one another. Perhaps she had initially trusted him out of necessity and now, it was blooming into something else, something greater.
He found, with some careful thought, that he valued this trust.
It was precious.
She was precious.
“Here we go,” the waitress said as she drew near. “One prairie-sized breakfast platter for the young miss, and one breakfast special.” There was a clunk as the various plates were put down, and she smiled, which revealed the fact that she was missing a lower front tooth. “Have a nice breakfast.”
“Thank you,” Tater Blossom was quick to say.
“Oh, you’re welcome, sugar,” the waitress replied as she hurried off to tend to other hungry customers.
The prairie-sized breakfast platter, as it was called, might have been the largest serving of food that Nut had ever seen. In the center there was a veritable mountain of poutine. Fries with cheese curds, all of which was smothered in gravy. Off to one side was a pile of beaver tails, some sort of fried confection that he wasn’t familiar with. On the other side was a dozen scrambled eggs, an enormous stack of Fancy toast that was drenched in maple syrup, battered fried mushrooms, and a fried oatmeal cake. On a separate plate was a pile of pastries, all of them shaped like maple leaves. There was also a dish of soft, whipped butter, responsibly served on the side, because, why not?
His own breakfast was far more modest.
“Well, I do hope this will tide you over.”
“I might stay full ‘til lunch, but I doubt it.”
He gulped, an audible sound. It was something he couldn’t help. What she’d said unnerved him; it wasn’t just what was said, but how she’d said it. He watched as she checked out her food, and he wondered what part of her prairie-sized platter she would wreck first. Requesting help from his parents was the right thing to do, he had no doubt of that now. No wonder earth ponies were so adept at growing food; it just had to be a survival adaptation, a means to keep up with their prodigious portion sizes.
“I ain’t ever had Fancy toast before. What is it?”
“It’s bread, dipped in eggs and fried,” he replied.
“Oh. That sounds good. But it also looks sticky and I’m worried ‘bout stickin’ my face in that.”
“Faces can be cleaned.”
“But sticky has a way of stickin’ ‘round, Nut.”
“So it does.”
“I s’pose there’s no helpin’ it,” she said as he lowered her muzzle down near to the mountain of poutine. And then, without further ado or reservation, the hangry earth pony filly began to gollop her food…
The factory was quite a marvel, all things considered. Canned maple syrup. What wonders the modern age brought about. Vanhoover and the surrounding region produced so much raw maple sap that it was hauled by train to other places, like here, to Whinnipeg, where it was turned into fine syrup of various grades.
Light amber, medium amber, and dark, rich amber.
It was an enormous industrial complex, one that would have been right at home in Vanhoover, and the only reason it existed here, in the middle of nowhere, was because of modern transportation. Perhaps normal ponies didn’t think about such things, but Nut did. Without the railroads, towns such as this one would barely even exist. Tourism, however, was now a major factor, as Whinnipeg existed between Canterlot, the Crystal Empire, and Yakyakistan.
There was also a massive bottling plant here for maple seltzer, maple soda, and spruce beer, a truly tremendous industrial fortress made of brick, steel, and glass. Raw goods went in, finished products came out. A train could roll right through the factory so that no time was wasted in loading and unloading goods for import and export. Equestria was made mighty because of this industrial efficiency, which no other nation in the world could match.
“Nut… I has me a question.”
“Go ahead, make your inquiry.”
“All the stuff we grew back at home… it comes to places like this one, right?
“Correct.” He could see his apprentice in the corner of his vision, she craned her head upwards to look up at the smokestacks. “We are all connected in some way, Tater. Your home, the Widowwood, they produce raw goods. Those goods are sent elsewhere. The creatures that live here in this place, and in other places like it, they depend on the transport of goods. The railroads are like blood vessels that carry Equestria’s lifeblood. This town exists to serve a function. Should any part of the great and mighty supply chain be disrupted for whatever reason, all involved will feel it.”
She squinted, thoughtful, shuffled about, kicked at a few pebbles on the road, and said, “I think I understand, but it’s a lot to take in. The world seemed so much smaller not that long ago. There was just the Widowwood. We Solanums sent our stuff out to other Solanums who lived elsewhere, and all was good.”
He waited while she wrangled her thoughts into a corral.
She began to trot away and he followed. Shafts of golden sunlight pierced through the dull grey clouds and mud puddles glistened invitingly in the rutholes of the road. There were other airship passengers having a look about, each of them trying to deal with the inconvenience and boredom in their own way. Nut found that he rather enjoyed this unexpected layover, and it was a good opportunity for his apprentice to learn about the world around her.
“We’re saved!” somepony shouted. “Airship! Finally, we can leave!”
“At last! It took them long enough!”
It took a bit of squinting, but Nut had a good look at the incoming airship that caused so much excitement. It wasn’t a commercial airship, but a gunship. There was sure to be disappointment. Still, it was probably a good idea to find out what was going on. He was about to call out to Tater Blossom, but as it turned out, nothing had to be said. Already, she trotted in the right direction, so he followed after her, eager to find out whatever was going on.
The sight of golden armor was both reassuring and inspiring, though some ponies were annoyed by the continued inconvenience. Quite a crowd had gathered around the gunship, which was a small, light model, a craft made for speed. Private Strangewing strutted his stuff, and rightfully so; he’d earned the right. An off duty guardspony had answered the call.
As for Nut, he did his best to avoid calling attention to himself.
There was still no word on when they could leave, though they were free to leave by their own means should they choose to do so. The promise made by the company to cover the cost would surely be kept, but it meant waiting for arrangements to be made. Since food and shelter were provided, Nut wasn’t worried, at least not too much, but he did feel the pressing need to return home.
“You there.” The stallion who spoke wore black sunglasses, a black suit jacket, and a white shirt that had a small brass lantern on the collar. “Lord Nut, correct? Of House Eccentrica?”
Suddenly self-conscious, Nut suspected that an actual spook addressed him. “I am. May I inquire who you are?”
“Nevermind who I am, but know that I represent the Crown of Equestria. You are to come with me. This is not a request.”
“Oh, bother.” Nut breathed out the words. “My apprentice is coming with me. I’ll not leave her alone. Where are we going?”
“To a secure location,” the pony in black replied. “The Crown thanks you for your cooperation. Hail the Night Lady.”
Immediately, Nut’s whole demeanour changed, and he adopted a stiff, starchy posture. “Hail the Night Lady.”
The pony in black paused, tilted his head, and peered at Nut over the top of his sunglasses. After a few seconds, he nodded, and then said, “Every comfort will be offered to your apprentice while you are our guest. Please, follow me. Prince Blueblood is eager to see you.”
Everything was cold bare metal and naked conduits. The interiour of the ship wasn’t even painted, because paint was heavy. Stark hallways were like industrial wombs and the bulkhead doors were mechanical cervixes with twitchy movements. There was nothing warm or inviting about this place, and Nut was thankful that he hadn’t enlisted. While he endured deprivation and slept in a bare room above a garage, he had some comforts in his life. This was just as bleak as it was awful.
A steam pipe ticked as Nut strolled past.
“You’d think the prince would have a yacht at his disposal,” Nut remarked.
To which the pony in black replied, “Prince Blueblood prefers utilitarian function for these matters. The sight of the gunship does much to reassure the shaken citizenry.”
“Forgive me for being contrary, but I am positive that the sight of a ship ready to carry them home might do more for their spirits.”
“Oh, I agree. But that is not for us to sort out. That is a matter for private enterprise.”
“Hmm.” Nut wasn’t sure that he agreed, but said nothing as the pony in black led the way.
Prince Blueblood was wearing some sort of blue and red military jacket, something with little golden ropes but was devoid of the medals that Nut was certain should be there. He stood in the middle of the room, tall, proud, commanding, and there were two other ponies present with him, both foals, both unicorns. One was a filly—a rather sickly filly—who’s pelt seemed to be falling out and she had jaundice yellow eyes. The other, a colt, had a cup of what was sure to be military grade coffee. Both of them watched Nut’s every move.
“I was… well, forgive me, I was expecting something else entirely,” said Prince Blueblood. “Greetings. I am Blueblood, as I am sure you know, and these are my cohorts for the time being. Miss Piper and Mister Nicker. You’ll have to forgive Mister Nicker’s silence, he was recently garrotted. Nasty business, that. He gives a good stern glare though.”
“Greetings and salutations,” Nut replied. “I am Nut. This is Miss Blossom, my apprentice. Might I inquire as to what you might have been expecting?”
“Oh, I don’t know. Coveralls, perhaps. Something more befitting a repair pony.” Blueblood’s words were as cold as the bare metal walls of the room. “I understand you did a little maintenance work on the airship.”
Unsettled, Nut swallowed once, which made an audible sound. He cast a hard glare into Blueblood’s eyes, but the prince did not turn away. When Nut spoke, he did so in the deadest deadpan he could muster. “Those were unscheduled repairs. I was not acting in any sort of official capacity, and surely, you must know that. I chose biology, and not the life of a repair pony.”
“Oh, can we dispense with the word play?” Blueblood demanded.
“I dispensed with my coveralls,” Nut replied.
“Clever.” Blueblood’s flattery was sincere and he bowed his head. “I was sent to thank you. Without realising it, you saved an untold number of lives.”
“I don’t think the airship held that many.” Nut eyeballed the two foals who sat on the bench, curious as to why they were here, and he heard Tater shuffling her hooves behind him.
The jaundiced filly bounced up from the bench, wobbled for a moment, regained her balance, crossed the cramped room, and then stood before Nut, with her eyes angled up at him. “You’d be wrong.” Her voice was strained, tired, and somewhat weak. “I am Piper Pie, of the Underwatch. There was an undercover agent aboard. They were being sent to Vanhoover, away from Canterlot. There’s some kind of medicine, or a serum, a little something that needs further development. We feared sabotage in Canterlot. Prince Blueblood”—she cast a vicious sidelong glance at the perfectly coiffed stallion—“believed that our best course of action would be a clandestine effort rather than official transport.”
In silence, Nut assembled the situation and put all of the various component pieces together. There were quite a number of alchemy labs and pharmaceutical labs in Vanhoover; it was a city that reeked of science. An airship crash would have destroyed the sample, thus preventing it from reaching its destination. Devious. Alarming. Unsettling. While the rats didn’t know the identity of the agent, perhaps, they’d discovered the ship. Possibly.
It wasn’t too hard to put what few puzzle pieces he had together.
“Prince Blueblood’s judgment was sound,” Nut said to Piper, and his words caused her to frown. “He had no way of knowing. It sounds as though all of Canterlot is compromised. Sure, the citizenry was put at risk, but anonymous transport was still, by far, the best possible option. The sample is safe, is it not? Was the agent harmed?”
“Our agent is fine,” Piper replied, obviously frustrated at this development. “We’ve recovered the sample. It’s very special blood from a very special filly. We want you to deliver it to Vanhoover’s Ministry of Plagues, Pestilences, Diseases, and Magical Maladies. Once you make the delivery, you will receive further instructions.”
“Huh.” Nut looked down at the yellow-eyed filly who stared up at him. “I didn’t hear a please. Or even a request—”
“I wasn’t asking,” Piper spat out, and as she did so, Prince Blueblood chuckled.
The filly had scars, and if Nut had to hazard a guess, he suspected that Piper was younger than Tater Blossom. He saw a crazed, almost maniacal gleam in her eyes, and pain—there was an awful lot of pain to be seen. She was far too young for all of this, which led him to believe there had to be extenuating circumstances.
“What makes the filly so special?” asked Nut. “I feel like I have a right to know, if I am being conscripted.”
“None of your—”
“Her name is Boxcars,” Blueblood said, interrupting Piper. “She has powerful serendipitous magic. Fortune favours every conceivable aspect of her existence. If she becomes infected with something, her innate luck kicks in to counter the disease. We need samples of her blood delivered to Vanhoover.”
“Fine.” Nut nodded. “I can do that.”
“Thank you,” Piper said, her tone softening. “Please, forgive me. I’ve been under a lot of stress.”
“She has.” Blueblood moved forward and stood beside Piper. “Far too much has been asked of her, but she struggles to meet the challenge. Mister Nicker, while technically the head of the newly formed Underwatch, is not a great commander. He is no great leader outside of battle. Miss Pie has taken it upon herself to do what Mister Nicker cannot.”
“Miss Pie, some ponies respect ferocity. Others are annoyed by it. Some cannot be cowed.” Nut lowered his head until he was eye level with the young miss. “Diplomacy is an art, just like swordplay. Learn how to read ponies and then carefully choose how you approach them. Has anypony told you who or what I am?”
Piper bit her lip, gave it a good chew, and then shook her head.
It was almost a relief to see that she was still a filly, and Nut smiled.
“I am a biology student.” He grinned and allowed his charm to flow.
Beside Piper, Prince Blueblood chortled.
The deserted mess hall was dim, chilly, and cramped. At least there were places to sit down. Round steel tables with cold, unyielding steel benches offered no comfort, and the frigid metal was quite a shock to the unmentionables. In the middle of the table, there was a case, an unassuming carrier case that held something of incalculable value.
Hunched over the table, Flicker sipped his coffee and occasionally let go a croaking cough.
Now almost silent, Piper didn’t say much. She leaned against Flicker, weary, sapped of energy. Something told Nut that the jaundiced filly didn’t get much sleep last night and truth be told, neither did he. Nor did Tater Blossom for that matter, and she was getting rather sleepy. All of them sat almost elbow to elbow, packed in around the round table, upon which was the precious package.
There was just no way for him to process everything he’d been told. The actual, honest state of affairs in Equestria. New plagues. Diseases. Contagion—no mere sickness, but a malevolent entity out to sicken every healthy creature. The Underwatch was a fledgling force still struggling to do much of anything. For Nut, the sheer enormity of the situation was difficult to grasp.
“I should probably mention that you will be paid handsomely for your service.” Blueblood’s voice held no trace of culture nor refinement, just resigned weariness. He too, like the others in his company, was fatigued, no doubt pushed beyond the limits of his endurance. “When we call upon you, when we have need of you, you will not be treated as a mere conscript. Mister Walker, who is currently in Canterlot, insists on a policy of fair compensation for conscripts, and as much as it galls me to say so, I am inclined to agree.”
Nut mused on these words, their meaning, and how they applied to him. Payment was nice, but also problematic. It could foster a sense of greed over national duty. However, payment could also keep one loyal—though Nut could not be bought. After some thought, he wasn’t sure where he stood on the issue, but he appreciated the fair compensation. His apprentice was an eating machine and he wanted to provide for her through his own means, whenever possible.
“This blood is worth more than gold.” Raising one hoof, the weary prince gestured at the case on the table. “We can always get more of this blood… but little fillies only have so much blood in them, and they tend to cry when stuck. So this package remaining safe and sound saves us a great many shed tears. Not sure how the rats knew which ship to sabotage… this concerns me more than a little. At the moment, I keep second guessing myself and I find myself wondering if things might have gone better had I sent it via a pegasus courier.”
“That smacks of risk,” Nut said to Prince Blueblood. “I mean, it’s all calculated risk, obviously. At least with an airship full of ponies, you might have a little luck on your side. Capable ponies might be on board. Dastardly plans can be thwarted.”
“Indeed.” Blueblood tapped his hoof against the edge of the steel table and his nervous eyes darted in every which direction. “It seems that even Boxcars’ blood is lucky. Everything worked out. Mostly.”
Flicker nudged Piper once, then a second time, and nodded at her.
“Mister Nut”—Piper did her best to be charming, given her current state of exhaustion—“we of the Underwatch would like for you to be our courier for future transfers. Your travel expenses will be covered, completely. No matter what class you fly. Payment can be discussed and negotiated. I’m no longer willing to leave this up to chance. My reputation isn’t great as it is, and I think I see a chance to show some competence.”
“School is a concern.”
“We’ll try to limit transfers to once a month.”
“Paying for my apprentice to travel with me will be costly.”
“She’ll be covered.”
“Fine.” Uncertain of what he was committing himself to, Nut hesitated and added, “School comes first for me. Don’t ever ask me to make a hard choice between the two. Come fall, I have a full class schedule. I’ll do whatever is necessary, but not at the expense of my future.”
“Excellent.” Piper’s thin, scarred lips pulled back from her teeth. “Your courier pay will be issued for this trip, and you will be refunded for your travel expenses. I’ll see to that myself.”
“Fabulous. Thank you. ‘Twas a pleasure to do business with you.”
Piper almost beamed and her yellow eyes gleamed. “You will be contacted for other jobs as well. We may have need of your services in Vanhoover.”
“I suppose I could use some extra coin,” he said, admitting his need aloud. “Now, if my apprentice is to take risks with me, I’ll need for her to be paid as well…”
It seemed as though that when Nut left Whinnipeg, he would be a different pony. No, he could not say how he was different, or why exactly—only that something about him had profoundly changed. Had he grown up? Was it the fact that he had a tentative career? It wasn’t the career he wanted—that much was for sure—but the pay seemed rather good and he had the option to make a life out of this.
That changed everything.
As a moment, as an experience, his future opened up wide before him, and he saw all manner of possibilities. It was like opening a window on an airship and discovering a whole new previously unseen horizon. Plus, there was the awareness that came with said new horizons. Not only was his own future filled with options, but his shrewd negotiations opened up possibilities for his apprentice as well. She now had a Crown-appointed job, which might mean a hoof in the door for future government positions.
He’d done well for himself; so well, in fact, that he planned to reward himself somehow.
“When does our train come?” asked Tater Blossom.
“Two,” he replied.
“I feel all excited-like for havin’ me a job, and I don’t know how to act.”
“Be happy. Celebrate.”
“Can we celebrate over lunch?” she asked.
“You wrecked the prairie-sized breakfast platter not but a few hours ago.”
“That was a few hours ago. I got a bit hungry when we was a-talkin’ on the ship. Didn’t say nothin’ ‘cause I didn’t wanna be rude. But my stomach was a-growlin’ and I thought fer sure that everypony could hear it, and I was trying to keep quiet ‘cause of all the important talk goin’ on.”
It was a struggle to keep his eyes from rolling. “What am I to do with you, Tater?”
“Feed me, I hope. Truly, I feel faint. Kinda.”
“I can’t even…”
“Well, I can.” She paused, glanced around for a time, and then in a low voice said, “I need to go potty. There’s brownies in the oven. When those come out, I’m bound to feel even emptier. Can we go have lunch?”
“Yes”—he sighed, resigned to his fate—“we can. And shall. I fear that I’ll never have a desire for brownies ever again.”
She giggled, because why wouldn’t she? Nut watched as she was overcome with youthful mirth, and he allowed his fond feelings for her to flood through his being. Potato Blossom was a truly delightful creature, and he was glad to know her. He would do right by her, because he’d given his word. For a moment, he thought of Hickory, and wondered how Tater’s father was doing.
“Come, Tater. Let us go have lunch…”
At first, I was worried about upsetting Canadians, and then I realised that I was worried about upsetting Canadians. 
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Does this mean we will get The Underwatch story now :O or is it too early to say?
Also very good chapter, I forgot to say that but I'm a lightweight and one beer gets me a lil woo
You can either feed an army, or a single earth pony filly
Tater is a food consuming machine.
The lucky blood. Luckily Nut was on the same ship to help keep it safe and to finish the delivery. Also thats some good negotiating, now Potato Blossom will just need to get some basic Nut-style training so she can at least keep herself safe if the need arises.
Honestly can’t wait to see what kind of cutie mark Potato Blossom will eventually get. Bet it will be something completely random, but completely relevant to all her new experiences.
I think that is her special talent; she is completely impossible to not like.
She kind of reminds me of her idol Pinkie Pie in that regard
Ohh poor Piper. Glad to see her and Nicker again
a grate chapter i love it.
this story seams to be shaping up to be a really long one or 4 or 5 story's all rolled in two one.
i am really liking this idea.
I hate to think about stereotypes, but I have to wonder if Canadians would apologize for causing you the worry.
Only one thing to say about the Canadian worries.
Eh.
Yaaay the underwatch! Never get enough of Flicker and Piper.
And by the way, that brownie line was wrong. XD
Same but opposite energy
https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=MtOf9aA12_M
I can't believe he passed up the opportunity to use en-deer-ing.
You really have a way with descriptive words. XD
Well, she is a growing, young pony. She can't possibly have a black hole for a stomach.
It isn't just Canadians that say "eh." I find if funny, not offensive. Originally from ND.
So glad to see Boxcars again!
I am in fact Canadian, and I...really want breakfast, mostly.
Twilight jokes are as immortal as the alicorns.
Common sense, or prophecy?
I think we all knew that about Nicker. At best he can be a field commander when called upon, but his comfort zone is in taking orders. Here's hoping we get to see more of him.