I stepped off the train, looking around at the boardwalk. Behind me, Blinkie lifted her hoof to shade her eyes from the morning sun, obscured only by a few gathering clouds. It was the first real chance we’d had to stretch our legs outdoors for a few days, what with the hectic travel patterns our pursuit had dragged us through.

“Where are we now?” Blinkie wondered blearily, still only partially awake.

“End of the line. This is Ponyville. If our last lead was right, she’ll be here somewhere.”

Blinkie stood up straighter, taking in the train station with more interest now. “Where do we go now? How are we going to find her in the whole town?”

I merely hefted our duffle onto my shoulders. “Lodging first, then we worry about that. If it’s anything like the last half-dozen leads, it’s probably just another dead end.”

Blinkie silently fell into step beside me, pace slightly faster to keep up with me, her oldest sister. We continued down the steps, dismounting the platform and heading down main street, looking for an inn.

“This place really has a quaint feel to it, doesn’t it? No chain restaurants, no big supermarkets,” Blinkie commented, her shy curiosity springing back into place.

“No inns, either. None that I would be able to recognize, anyway,” I replied, critically.

“Perhaps we could look for Pinkie first, and someone along the way might be able to point us towards a bed-and-breakfast?”

I grunted, changing course for the town hall. After being through this every time we visited a city with a lead, a pretty clear pattern had developed. The first thing we did was to check the town’s records for any indication of a “Pinkie Pie.” Even if they couldn’t give out personal information, like an address, it would at least be a starting point.

Unfortunately, Ponyville is less than pristine when it comes to paperwork. The gray-maned pony who greeted us inside the office off of the domed atrium was definitely on the figurehead side of the political fence.

“Welcome to Ponyville, mares! Please take a seat. What can I do for you today?”

I remained standing, only shifting the duffle on my back. Blinkie, however, jumped forward. She was better at talking to other ponies, so I let her.

“We’re here looking for a relative, actually. We’d very much appreciate any records we might be able to access... it would save a great deal of time for us.”

The mayor cringed. “Unfortunately, Ponyville does not hold its own census. The best you could do for a place like this is the national Equestria-wide census results, and I’m afraid I don’t have access to those.”

Even if we did, it would be like searching for a needle in a haystack in all that data. Searching the national archives had been one of our first ideas when we set out, but was very impractical once we discovered most towns could tell you right away who lived there.

“Let’s go. We’ll try the post office next,” I said to Blinkie.

“Yes, I guess that’s next.” She started to follow me, before pausing. “Oh, and Miss Mayor?”

“Hmm?”

“Do you know where we could find a place to stay the night? We may be here awhile trying to track her down.”

“I’m afraid Ponyville doesn’t get much in the way of visitors that don’t already know somebody here to stay with. But even without that, you should be able to find to find some folks with extra room that could rent it out for a short period.”

“Oh, I see. Thanks for the help, ma’am,” Blinkie replied, falling in step behind me.

Yeah, some help that was.

I held the door for Blinkie, before letting it gracelessly bang shut behind me.

“Well, that’s too bad,” Blinkie commented, hopping down the steps from the town hall. “Still, I guess we’ll have to stay here for a bit now, yes?”

“Luckily, this...” I struggled for a moment to find an adequately descriptive term, but failed. “...place has a relatively small populous. Even if the post office doesn’t turn up anything, we should be able to search it and move on relatively quickly. Where do you suppose they put the post office here?”

“Um...” She looked around. “Hey, she probably knows!”

Blinkie was pointing towards a gray pegasus that was floating lazily along between the buildings, narrowly missing signs and the tops of some ponies’ heads. While she didn’t look like the most informed type, she was wearing a saddlebag that was occasionally leaking a letter or two.

“Excuse me! Miss mailmare?” Blinkie called.

Her timing couldn’t have been more unfortunate. As the pegasus looked around for the caller, a stallion awkwardly carrying a large sign backed out of a door directly into the mare’s flight path. I watched the crash play out, unblinking, while Blinkie yelped and cringed. When the dust and letters settled, she rushed over to the scene, myself following at the same pace I always went.

“Are you okay? I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to distract you!”

The mailmare dusted herself off as Blinkie helped her up. “I’m fine, thanks. Don’t worry. It’s a pretty regular occurrence.”

A muffled moan came from somewhere under the crumpled sign on the ground, causing the two to jump to the aid of the stallion that was still under it.

“Mr. Davenport! Sorry about that. What were you saying?” the mailmare continued, as the two lifted the sign off him and got him to his feet.

“I was saying, ‘not for me,’ but the way things have been going, that might change.”

Seeing the worried look on Blinkie’s face, he chuckled and added, “No harm, no foul. Forget about it.”

“Um, Mr. Davenport, sir, what did ‘that might change’ mean?” the mailmare asked, crossed eyes adding to her perplexed expression.

“I just got word from regional headquarters. My particular Sofas and Quills is going to become a mail-order distribution point. Hence the sign.”

I peered closer at the large crumpled paper, which read Now Hiring.

“I’ve got to handle all the shipping now, which means I’ll be seeing more of you, Ditzy, later. Unfortunately, this means I need someone else for the front desk.”

As interesting as the dialog may have been, it was not exactly speeding up our purpose for being here. I coughed conspicuously, looking at Blinkie.

“Oh, right!” Blinkie exclaimed. “Ditzy, was it? I don’t suppose you could direct us to Ponyville’s post office?”

“Sure! Right down that street there, then look for the building with white trim on your left.”

“Not from here, eh?” inquired Mr. Davenport.

“Just passing through, maybe,” I grunted, turning on my hooves and heading towards the new destination. Blinkie looked back as we turned the corner.

“They seemed nice enough.”

I didn’t reply. This wasn’t the first town she’d grown to like, only to turn out to be a dead end. I wasn’t going to let that happen again. My little sis is better than me–she can not only talk to ponies, but care about them, even from just their face value. It also means it’s harder for her to ignore them and move on.

My ongoing internal lecture had let me nearly walk past the post office, which Blinkie quickly pointed out. Shaking myself, I opened the door and entered.

Inside, a somewhat aged stallion with extremely thick glasses sat dozing behind a counter. Beyond him, the wall was covered in nothing but boxes, each with it’s own unique lock and number. Blinkie peered around my duffle at the sleeping postal worker.

“Excuse me,” I said in an even voice, though Blinkie knew me well enough to grasp at my annoyed undertones. The postal worker, however, failed to move.

“Excuse me,” I repeated, louder. Again, it failed to produce results. With a sigh, I stepped aside, deciding it would be best to let her take over now, rather than after I got us arrested for disturbing the peace or some such offence.

Blinkie gently tapped the bell on the desk. I would have facehooved, but the weight of the duffle prevented me from doing so. Blinkie smiled innocently at me, before turning to address the old stallion, who was beginning to come around.

“Good morning, sir! We’re looking for a relative of ours and think she might be here in the charming little town. If she was, would you be able to confirm that for us?”

The desk attendant, who seemed to have gained his wits quickly upon my adorable sister asking for his help, sat up and fixed his glasses.

“I can do better ‘an that. If she’s here, I’ll just go ahead and pull her address for you, fine young lass.”

“Thank you, sir!” Blinkie called after him as he went in the back to check.

“I can’t believe I was dim enough to miss the bell,” I started, when he’d left.

“You’re not dim. But... maybe we should think about getting you some glasses.”

“Har har.”

“Naw, I was kidding. It’s probably your mane getting in the way, always covering up half your face like that. You should try bangs like mine!”

“You already know you won’t be getting scissors within ten meters of my mane, so I won’t bother telling you again.”

At that moment, our privacy was intruded on as the door opened behind us, another mare bouncing in, humming a nondescript tune in a butchered sort of way. My ears went flat and I stopped talking.

“Hi there! Good morning!” she greeted. Her voice was as low as her her colors were subtle, which is to say, not at all. She sported the brightest of pink shades for both coat and mane, had a voiced that sounded as though she’d been on an IV of caffeine and sugar for two weeks, and moved in ways that wasted energy with every excitable hop. Overall, she seemed one of those types to never give you a moment’s rest, and consequently never really stop to think about what they’re doing or saying thoroughly.

In other words, she was the most exasperating kind of pony to ever walk the face of Equestria.

“Good morning,” Blinkie replied slowly, though she seemed more surprised than anything else. Not that I didn’t find her surprising, I just also found her aggravating. So, I stared straight ahead, trying not to notice the rapid eye movements, seemingly random twitches of various body limbs, and tangled mane.

“It is, isn’t it? I wasn’t going to get stamps today, but then Mrs. Cake said that she needed some too, so I said I could just run over here and get some for both of us, that way we wouldn’t both have to make the trip, see? Of course, she said she would do it and that she didn’t want to bother me, but with the foals Mr. and Mrs. Cake just have their hands so full on top of running a bakery...”

The long-winded blurb finally ceased when the mare’s whole body suddenly vibrated, for no visible reason. “Hmm...”

The tirade of inexcusable random events was diverted with the return of the desk attendant, who was now carrying a large ledger.

“Oh, didn’t expect to see you running errands on a day like today,” he said.

“Well, I was going to do it later, but then Mrs. Cake said...”

I stopped listening. After a while, the mare bought her stamps and bounced out, spouting something about having to hurry because of the beautiful weather. I hate to think how long she could have talked on a rainy day. I blew my mane out of my face.

“Now then,” the attendant resumed, not in the least bit bothered, “Who was this relative you were lookin’ for again?”

“Our sister,” volunteered Blinkie, while the stallion flipped through his book. “We haven’t seen her since we were fillies. We’ve been traveling for a while looking for her, but there isn’t exactly a whole lot left to track now.

“Oh? What’s ‘er name?”

“Pinkie Pie.”

The attendant froze, before looking up and push his glasses further up his snout. “Could you repeat that?”

“Our sister, Pinkie Pie...” Blinkie’s voice quivered with suspense. “Have you heard that name?”

The attendant leaned back in his chair and laughed, much to the confusion of sis and I.

“That was her, just now.”

My brain threatened to cease functioning for few moments. No. That’s not possible. Sis and I may not be exactly alike but... that thing...

Before I could finish my thought, however, the sound of the post office’s door clattering registered.

“Blinkie!” I exclaimed under my breath, starting after her as quickly as I could, given the weight of the duffle still on my back. I caught up with her quickly at the first intersection, where she stood panting, apparently having lost her target in daily traffic.

“We... we found her... at last,” she stammered in between breaths.

“Yeah, apparently. Still, now that we’ve found the city, we should probably focus on finding lodging.”

Blinkie stared at me like I was crazy. “But... we found her! We actually found her!”

“And? I don’t think she’ll be disappearing overnight, somehow.”

“But... well...” she stammered, casting about for ideas. Her face lit up. “But, maybe she could put us up! For one night, anyways.”

She had a valid point. Our supply of bits wasn’t exactly plentiful, and we would need time to find a permanent residence. Still, it didn’t make the idea of spending time with that exuberant fluffball any more appealing.

“Fine. Let’s head back to the post office and get her address though, rather than running willy-nilly in the street maybe?”

She giggled. “Sorry.”

Later, after we’d acquired the address from the desk attendant (who’d given us the street and told us to look for the ‘large pastry’), we found ourselves wending our way through Ponyville, Blinkie with significantly more spring in her step than me.

“People really do change, huh?” she said, looking over at me. “She’s not what you expected, is she?”

An understatement. “I guess not.”

“You probably remember more about her than I do, though.”

“Not much. She was pretty much like us. I vaguely remember something about a party, and after that, she left. I don’t remember her colors being so bright though, as a general thing.”

Blinkie looked up, shading her eyes with a foreleg. “Maybe it’s the sun.”

“Good luck with that. I think we’re stuck with gray.”

“Hey, is this it?”

I stopped, abandoning the conversation to look around. Only now did I realize that the postal worker had been nearly literal in his description of the bakery, which looked fit to be eaten. It wasn’t hard to see why someone of her disposition would live in a place like this.

“Ready?” Blinkie asked.

I nodded, suddenly not in the mood for talking. I held the door for her, and we entered.

“Hello there, dearies. Welcome to Sugarcube Corner. What can I get for you?” greeted a blue mare behind the counter.

“Well, we hate to disturb you during business hours, Mizz...?”

“Mrs. Cake.”

“...Mrs Cake, but we were wondering if it would be possible for us to speak with Pinkie Pie.”

“She’s doesn’t work today, so there’s no issues there. Unfortunately, you just missed her. She was getting some stamps for me and just dropped them off. Didn’t say where she was going.”

“Oh. But she does live here, right?”

The other mare nodded. “Do you two know her?”

“It’s... kind of a long story. Do you know where she might be, or when she’ll get back?”

The baker chuckled. “Once you get to know her a bit more, you’ll realize what you asked is a bit harder to answer for her than for most ponies.”

Blinkie looked over at me. “Now what?”

“If you’re hungry, we could get food I guess.”

Lunch found us at a small diner near the town’s center. Not that that was any downside–even the densest parts were better than most suburbs of the major cities. Still, it was lunchtime, and so there were a few other occupied tables nearby.

As per usual, nothing sounded good. It had become a standard now for me to order the smallest, cheapest item for this reason, and to help stretch our bits out for a while longer... though of course I told Blinkie none of that.

A fit of giggling behind me caught my attention as we waited for the food. Reaching forward, I carefully repositioned my spoon so as to use it’s reflection like a mirror. On the warped convex surface, I could make out two mares sitting, very wrapped in their own conversation.

Maybe they’re sisters. I couldn’t help but contrast the two–a green unicorn and purple-and-pink maned earth pony–and their interaction with Blinkie’s and mine. They were much more respondent to one another, more physical, more interactive and attentive.

My comparison was suddenly brought to a halt when the two kissed in a way that could not have been interpreted as platonic in any sense. It lasted for several seconds, a bit of tongue exposed when one shifted slightly...

I put my spoon back down quickly.

Well, even if they aren’t sisters, they’re doing a very nice job taking care of each other. I fidgeted, casting about for something else to think about. I’d gotten good at that in the past few months.

“Sis?”

I jerked out of my stupor. “Huh?”

“You’ve been spacing out a lot. Are you okay?”

“Yeah... fine.” I flashed a practiced smile, dropping the unnatural facial expression as soon as she looked away.

“So what are we going to do for an afternoon? I mean, we could look for her I guess, but I wouldn’t want to interrupt her if she has business or something.”

“We should probably be doing other stuff anyway, like finding more permanent lodging and eventually... income.”

“Maybe she could hook us up?” Blinkie suggested, again.

“While I’m sure she’s well intentioned,” I started, obligatorily, “she didn’t seem the most... organized of ponies.”

Blinkie didn’t say anything at first, but tapped her hoof against her chin. “I wonder who else we could ask? Too bad we don’t know more ponies here.”

Without warning, our table was suddenly upset when a magnetta mare fell into it. Luckily, Blinkie had been mostly finished with her meal, and I wasn’t interested in mine anyways.

“Oh gosh! Sorry! I’m sober, I swear.” She pulled herself from the wreckage, giving sheepish looks to the onlookers the accident had garnered.. “...Mostly.”

“It’s alright, we’re fine. Are you okay?”

“Yeah... mostly.”

I raised an eyebrow. Apart from the obvious.

“I did stop getting wasted every night, y’know,” she continued. “It was great for a while. She’d visit, we’d hang out in her coltfriend’s bar, play some cards. Then one day they up and leave for Las Pegasus. I mean, they were nice about it and everything, said goodbye... hay, he even left me the bar. Still kinda sucks.”

“Excuse me, miss?” a waiter said, approaching the mare from behind.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m going,” she shot back, before he could finish. Before getting two meters, however, she gracelessly grazed a lamp post, sending her tumbling into a railing.

Blinkie winced. “Do you need any help getting somewhere...?”

This time, I winced, though my mane hid it. We don’t have time to mess with this.

Luckily, she seemed inclined to turn down Blinkie’s offer, until she ran headfirst into a mailbox in such a way so as to have her head coming out the other side. Blinkie sprang up to help her immediately, with myself following at a slower pace.

“Where do you live?” Blinkie asked, taking one side while I took the other.

“Let’s go this way... probably...”

She had a fairly stable gait, for her level of intoxication. The main issue was preventing her from becoming distracted, and often nearly colliding with something as a result. We wound our way through a few unnecessary detours, but eventually arrived at a modest apartment building. It wasn’t anything compared to the tall ones in the bigger cities, keeping it from breaking Ponyville’s rural-style roofline.

“You live here?” Blinkie asked.

“Nope,” she replied.

“What?” I intoned.

“I work here. Well, down in the basement, actually.” We helped her down a set of stairs that were rather obscure in nature if you weren’t looking for them.

“It isn’t locked,” she remarked as she stumbled through it. “I lost the key, so it’s never locked anymore. Now, where’s the light switch...”

There was a loud crashing sound from the interior of the dark basement as she felt along wall for the switch. With an electric click, the lights illuminated the dim interior with yellow light. Round tables littered the room, cider mugs lined the shelves behind the bar, and a jukebox collected dust against the wall. I felt like I’d just stepped into a place that was still half a century in the past.

“I haven’t changed it much since I got it from Lucky, and he hadn’t changed it much since he got it from Oakback Slack,” she mumbled, climbing onto the bar and laying down, “but that’s not really a good story for telling anyway.”

“Uh, miss?” Blinkie asked, trying to keep the mare from falling asleep, “what’s your name?”

“Berry Punch. You could tell me yours, but I probably won’t remember it when I wake up anyway.”

“So... you live in one of the apartments upstairs?” Blinkie inquired, peering at a flight of stairs that were visible in the back.

“Nope. Lucky used to though, along with his marefriend.” She yawned. “Landlord’s been desperate to get ‘em rented out... losing two incomes at once like that really took her down a notch.”

That grabbed my attention.

“Listen, are you sure you don’t want us to get you home?” Blinkie asked, looking skeptically at the drowsy mare on the counter.

“Nah... my drinks are here, my work is here... and walking hasn’t been such a great idea anyway.”

Blinkie looked to me, but I only shrugged. The duffel was getting heavy.

“Okay then, we’ll be on our way I suppose,” she finished.

“Mmf... come by sometime... er, some... somethin’...”

With that, she fell to snoring. Blinkie and I shut the door behind us as we trudged up the stairs, unsure where to go to next. I looked back at the building, committing Berry Punch’s comments to more permanent memory.

As we walked along aimlessly, Blinkie shivered, drawing my attention away from my usual internal meanderings. She walked closer to me, but not so much as for our coats to touch. Clouds were rolling in, hiding the sun’s rays and dropping the temperature.

“Fall’s coming,” I noted simply.

“The leaves will start changing soon. I read somewhere that in this area, they run races to get them to fall when autumn ends, instead of using magic.”

I hadn’t known that. “That’s...”

“...quaint?”

“I was going to say moronic.” A pause plagued the air for a few seconds, before I added, “Sorry for being like that.”

Blinkie smiled at me. “It’s okay. I know what you meant.”

Behind my lock of hair, I cringed. What if I did say what I meant? Does that mean you don’t know what I meant?

Trying to ignore such thoughts, I looked around to take stock of our surroundings. We’d wound up on the edge of the park, a grassy open space surrounded by trees fairly in the middle of Ponyville. It was riddled with benches and tables at certain vantage points, most of which were populated with Ponyville’s inhabitants... though, with the wind coming up and clouds rolling in, these numbers decreased steadily. The place seemed awfully empty and deserted, in a few minutes.

“There’s no point in standing around out here,” I said suddenly. “Let’s check back at Sugarcube Corner. At least we’ll be inside for a while.”

Blinkie only nodded, trying to suppress another shiver. I led the way, backtracking through the streets to find the odd confectionary. By the time we arrived, the wind had the suspended cupcake sign banging back and forth with the gusts. Blinkie entered hurriedly, with myself tumbling in after her, putting my weight back into the door to close it again.

Mrs. Cake was behind the counter, watching us with alarm. “Gosh dearies, are you alright? Pinkie said it was getting worse out there, and I didn’t know if you had any place to go.”

“She’s back?” I inquired. Blinkie was still too cold to engage as enthusiastically as she usually would have.

Mrs. Cake nodded. “Arrived a few minutes ago.”

I dropped the duffle. “May we see her?”

Might as well get this over with. Besides, Blinkie was standing now, and I knew she wasn’t going to wait longer than she had to.

“Of course. She’s right upstairs.” She cupped a hoof to her mouth. “Pinkie! You’ve got guests!”

Before we were halfway up the staircase, Pinkie’s head appeared over the edge. “Oh hey! I remember you! From the post office, right? I was all ‘good morning’ and you were like ‘good morning...’”

“Yes, that was us,” Blinkie interjected. “Um, look, we kinda have something we need to tell you. Do you mind if talk somewhere besides the stairs?”

Pinkie let out one of her high-pitched giggles, causing me to wince slightly. “Of course, girls. Come on up!”

I followed Blinkie the rest of the way up the stairs and through one of the doors that branched off the hallway. Upon entering, I was surprised to find it had rather high ceilings–a result, no doubt, from the room being located under the tower of Sugarcube Corner. This also explained why it was round, going so far as to support a suspended pink walkway around the edge where normally the next floor would have been.

“So, what’s up?” she asked cheerfully, bounding onto her bed. A few raindrops began to strike the window panes.

“Well, I’m not sure how much you remember from your early foalhood,” Blinkie began, twirling her mane nervously, “but... well... this is kind of hard to say...”

“We’re your sisters,” I summarized.

Except for the environmental sounds outside, silence pervaded the room for the next few moments. Pinkie blinked, looked at Blinkie, blinked again, and looked at me, only to repeat the process.

“Well, that must have been the doozy.”

I ignored that, waiting for something intelligible instead.

“Blinkie, right? Blinkie and Inkie.”

Blinkie gave a small clop with her hooves in joy. “You do remember us!”

“Well, duh! I grew up with you girls. I still remember teaching you to ice skate. The real question is, what are you doing here in Ponyville? Not that I mind, of course! This is gonna be great!” She looked around. “Where’s Mom and Dad?”

“They’re alright; they’re still back on the rock farm.”

“Oh, Well, we’re still going to make this something to remember anyway!”

“Huh?”

“Since I recognized you in the post office, but couldn’t quite place you, I assumed I’d seen you around town. But, since this is your first time in Ponyville, and more importantly, our reunion, we have to celebrate! Big time!”

Pinkie wrapped a hoof around each of our necks, bringing the three of us together into an awkward and uncomfortable hug. I ground my teeth, but kept silent.

“Oh, you don’t need to go to any trouble,” Blinkie offered. “Just seeing you is amazing.”

“Aww!” Pinkie sniffed. “I missed you girls!”

Several skeptical comebacks popped up in my head, but I kept them to myself as Blinkie seemed to be enjoying the vise-grip of a hug. My apathy was waning thin, however, giving way to mild indignation.

“Be that... as it may...” I squeaked, wedging my hooves against Pinkie to extract myself from the embrace, “...you haven’t been easy to track down...”

My head came free with a pop. “...and we’ve only just arrived in Ponyville...”

“...and we could really use a temporary place for tonight, if it’s not too much trouble,” Blinkie blurted out.

I was just going to ask for recommendations on accommodations, but there’s no redacting that now, I suppose.

“Trouble? Are you kidding? You have to stay here tonight! Besides just being a part of the whole I-haven’t-seen-you-in-forever thing, it’s also raining pretty good out there too.”

As if to prove her point, a crack of lightning struck in the distance, shaking the house slightly with thunder.

“You’re hospitality is... appreciated,” I replied slowly. It really was, too. I knew my conflicts with Pinkie’s personality were my problem, not hers. Unfortunately, realising that wasn’t helping to improve my mood either.

“Yay! I’ll go tell the Cakes real quick.”

Just like that, she was out of the room, her steps receding down the stairs.

“She’s nothing like what I’d imagined,” Blinkie murmured, staring after her.

“Definitely not.” Still, she seems to make Blinkie happy. Perhaps I can put up with her for that.

“I’m back!” Pinkie announced, kicking the door open. Her forelimbs were otherwise occupied with a large stack of sleeping bags, blankets, board games, popcorn tins, umbrella hats, and a single book.

“Oh my,” Blinkie commented, springing up to relieve pinkie of her weighty items. “What is all this for?”

“Our party is going to be a slumber party! I even got this from Twilight; normally I wouldn’t bother with books and instructions and whatnot, but she seemed really enthusiastic that I try it.”

I slumped a little lower.

“Thank you... for the blanket,” I said, when Pinkie plopped a portion of her stock in front of me. I tugged it with me over next to the window and curled up.

“Huh?” Pinkie stopped, tilting her head. “Aren’t you gonna stay up with us?”

“No, thanks anyway though. You two go ahead.” No need to spoil it for Blinkie.

“But, but...”

“It’s fine, really.” I leaned my head back against the cool glass and pretended to be happy, closing my eyes and planting a slight smile on my face. After a moment of silence, they went back to talking in hushed tones. Though Pinkie was doing most of the talking, come to think of it.

With the rain pelting the window behind me, I drew my attention from the physical world and allowed my mind to wander.

What a day.

She was certainly hard enough to find. Hopefully nothing will blow up in our faces, for Blinkie’s sake.

I’ve been appending that on a good deal recently. I kind of thought finding Pinkie would make me feel a little bit less useless, but that clearly didn’t work out like that. Blinkie won’t rely on me anymore–not that that’s bad.

Do we hear ourself? We want her to make friends and be happy, right?

Yes, of course. It’s just me being selfish.

My conclusion didn’t really help me feel any better. In fact, knowing that Blinkie could soon rely on others was only making me more apathetic.

I peeked over the blanket. The room was now lit only by the warm lights from a single oil lamp, casting it’s limited light on Blinkie and Pinkie, who were sitting on the bed, drinking something warm and still talking enthusiastically. Blinkie, I noticed, wasn’t comfortable scooting right up touching Pinkie yet, though she was sitting next to her rather than across from her already.

Good for her. At least now she’ll be able to have a decent new start, in a new town, if she wants to.

We could too, you know.

I staved off letting my mood get the best of me for months while we traveled, because I was the only person she had to care about. If she has another sister to fill in, maybe some friends...

What makes us think Pinkie will replace what Blinkie holds in her heart for us, rather than add to it? It would take our absence for that to occur.

That’s not off the table here.

We only just arrived. It’s too soon for that.

Blinkie is a warm pony, and bonds quickly. The time may be closer than you think.