I don't know when exactly it happened but a mote of dust suddenly became infinitely more interesting. I had stopped paying to the others in the shop as my attention was drawn to watch the particle of dust. Their conversation droned on while my eyes followed the curious particle, watching it drift between the sun beams like a dancer upon a stage. The float and flutter of whatever tiny fragment of skin, book, or fur completely enraptured me completely. It twisted, turned, shimmered, swayed, then fell from the light to be lost in the shadow of the curtains.

My expression had soured a little as, for a moment, I had felt bad for the thing. Having its brief moment in the spotlight only to, for all intents and purposes, fade out of existence. I silently wished an updraft would bring the tiny fragment back into the sun light just so I could watch it some more. It may have been selfish, but at that moment I wanted that more than anything.

It was suddenly too quiet in the bakery. My attention returned to the now silent guests of my owner. All eyes were on me, and just as suddenly they went back to raised voices. The Purple One with the horn seemed to be the most outspoken of the group. The Rainbow One, the one that always wore the cowboy hat, and the Marshmallow One appeared to have sided against her.

Hearing their constant bickering in the eerie horse language was all too much for me. If I didn't get out of here soon I might just go insane. Or more sane, I'm not too sure anymore. I looked on into the yelling and chaos. It was either they had to go or I did and I didn't have any way of communicating with them, let alone convince them. Taking with me nothing but what I was wearing, I left the bakery.

There were no cries of alarm or panicked hurrying about as I made my way down the street. It seemed that my presence at the bakery had done wonders for my public image. The local pony population seemed to be mostly placated by my presence. It didn't stop them from staring as I passed, but it was better than abject terror.

I didn't know where I was going. I didn't have any specific destination in mind. I wasn't even looking for anything in particular. I just had to get away from all the yellng, hurt feelings, and drama. I ambled slowly down one street, then across anther. Past shops that soon gave way to houses, then open fields, and far beyond them lay the mountains. I wasn't going as far as the mountian range, but somewhere not too far ahead had caught my eye.

From where I was I could see a small grassy hill topped with a single leafy tree which seemed to overlook the town. A quiet, shady spot wth a nice view may be just what I needed to clear my mind and the ringing in my ears. I made my way out of pony town and into the wilderness beyond.  

I made my way up the grassy knoll, following what looked to be a well worn dirt path. The way the dusty trail wound around small boulders suggested to me the path was from natural foot falls, or more likely hooves, than something artificially built to serve a purpose.

The top of the hill offered no great surprise either. Everything appeared as I had seen it from the distance. No cobblestone patio or wooden benches, just a flat grassy expance under a single tree. I was no arborist but with the white and black bark, and dusty-green oval leaves, the tree resembled a berch. Someone must have come here often to take care of it because it couldn't have been more that twelve feet tall. From what I remember, back home most species easily grow taller than thirty.

I made my way over to the tree and sat against its trunk in a shady spot beneath it. The cool summer breeze, the fresh air. It was nice sitting here under the tree. This spot seem magical. Not the unicorn type of magic, the metaphorical type.

I wasn't the only one out and about this evening. High above me, some Pegasi were pushing around some semi-solid clouds. Seeing a few of the clouds lazily drift away on the air current, which would cause more work for the winged ponies, made me feel a little better. It still amazed me that they could do that. I knew that clouds were nothing more than a coalescence of water vapor. The fact that they could even touch them let alone treat them like a building material was inconceivable to me.

It appeared that I had been followed. My owner would know how to find me, which she usually does so when I least expect it, but whoI saw wasn't her. Coming up from the same path I used to leave pony town was a friend of the Pink One. She was a butter-yellow Pegasus with a long pink mane that frequently fell across one eye. Her butt-mark was butterflies, if I remembered correctly.

The Yellow One approached parallel to me slowly and cautiously, her eyes never breaking contact from mine. She seemed to be sizing me up. As she neared, she slowed until her hoof-falls placed her about thirty feet ahead of me. She broke eye contact to briefly glance at her left hoof, then her right.

Another step forward, then repeated the same hoof glance movement. Now less than twenty feet from me. A few more careful steps closer, each time repeating the same confusing shuffling motion. One step, left hoof, right hoof, repeat

Now only five feet away she stopped again, crouched low, then rolled not her back still facing me. In a familiar dog-like manner she wiggled her hips and used her hind legs to scootch herself closer to me. Next Chapter: Chapter 7: Dragon (1.2, 09/21/2014) Estimated time remaining: 10 Minutes