Log, Entry 6:

My first venture outside the house was cut short.

They have dragons.

I don’t think he noticed me. I was shielding myself from the sun. Fortunately, others in town seemed to be avoiding it in a similar fashion. Some of them had ice cream.

I felt myself tense up the second I saw it. I almost fled. I am thankful for what little of my training I remember, because it was enough to keep myself composed. I followed the dragon with my eyes for a minute, making sure his attention was elsewhere. He was following someone—his owner, perhaps—who was commanding him like a concierge. He had a list in his hand. I hope to Mother I’m not on it. I hid behind the ice cream stand until he went away.

I’m not sure how I’m supposed to do this.

Every time I move, my limbs scream at me. They feel wrong. They feel like they’re meant to fall off. Every minute I’m awake, I can feel myself shaking. I can’t feed here. I don’t know any of these ponies, and even if I did, the risk of them catching me were I close enough to take their love is too much of a risk. The hive members that put me here seem to have been considerate enough to leave me a stock of emergency rations, but they won’t last forever. The taste is awful, like a thousand years of sugar in a single bite. But they help. I feel like I can almost hear home when they dissolve in my mouth.

I will be strong. As Mother would want me to, I will persevere. I will grow strong enough to remember my directive, and I will call home to announce that I have been successful.

I will go to work tomorrow. Mother, give me strength.