My eyes began to creak open slowly, but shot wide open when I made out the enormous seas of blue in my immediate vision.

“Hey Hunter!”

“AHHH!” I yelped, and quickly scooted backwards on my bed, my back hitting the bed frame. Directly in front of me was my best friend and co-worker, Pinkie Pie. She was sitting on my stomach, and had leaned forwards to get right in my face with her huge grin and sparkling eyes.

“AHHHH! Yourself!” she responded cheerfully…and a bit too loudly.

I groaned when I looked out the window. The sun rising above the horizon caused my eyes to squint and for me to hiss through my teeth. Normally I’d just be mildly annoyed at how early it was, but today was a Saturday, so I was a special kind of annoyed. Saturday mornings are sacred, dammit!

"Pinkie, why did you wake me up so early?” I asked, trying to leave my irritation out of my voice. Any irritation that was in my mind, however, was wiped away as I gazed back at her; she seemed to emit some sort of positive and hyper vibe that just always managed to bring me out of a sour mood.

She put on a pleading expression as she poked her stomach. I closed my eyes and rubbed the bridge of my nose between my thumb and my index finger. I knew what she wanted.

"Pinks….” I started.

“Oh, c’mon, Hunty!” she begged, using the pet name that she was so fond of. “Just a little bit! Pleeeeeeeeaseeee!”

I silently cursed Twilight. She was the first pony I had met, and upon seeing her in my groggy state, I believed her to be a regular old pony and scratched her behind the ear. I had stopped when she closed her eyes halfway, put on a dopey smile, and moaned “O-oh yeah…” Yeah, that freaked me out a bit. See, apparently human fingers felt really pleasurable to a pony (using the word ‘pleasurable’ in the least…*shudder*…’sexual’ way possible), and Twilight couldn't keep her mouth shut about what happened. Loose lips sink ships, people. At least she only told her close group of friends, and among them one was too shy to ask, one was too proper, one was too busy, one was too proud, and Twilight herself…well, she insisted it was for ‘scientific purposes’. When I called her out on the fact that the notion of studying how good it felt to be scratched behind the ear was completely superfluous and ridiculous, she became too embarrassed to ask again.

And then there was one…

Where do I start with Pinkie Pie? From the beginning, of course! After we got through all of the awkwardness that was walking to Ponyville with a mare that I had inadvertently…I really don’t want to say it. It starts with an ‘a’. That should tell you enough. Anyway, the first pony we ran into was Pinkie, who threw me an admittedly awesome surprise party after gasping in my face. At the party we struck up a conversation and I mentioned that I had dabbled in baking when I was on Earth.

Anyway. Party. Right. I mentioned that, and Pinkie lit up and immediately got me a job at Sugarcube Corner, the confectionery she worked at. The Cakes were a bit hesitant, but accepted my wholeheartedly after Pinkie vouched for me…although it may have been the lemon squares I made for them that did the trick.

Not a day later, Princess Sparklebutt blabbed about how we met, which we had agreed to never share with anypony goddamn Twilight! Ugh…she told her friends, who didn't really bother me about it except for some teasing from Skittles or AJ, and maybe an occasional look of poorly guised interest. But Pinks? She was different. Well, I mean her approach, not her in general…although I guess the word ‘different’ applies to both of those, doesn't it?

She asked me for tummy rubs. Every day. Every hour. All the time. Now, you may be asking, ‘Why wouldn’t you do it?’ Think about it like this: Let’s say, for example, you touch a girl on the arm and she shudders in ecstasy. Then suddenly every girl in school is asking for a shoulder rub or something. Awesome, right? Not awesome if all of the girls are ferrets. Are you picking up what I’m putting down?

Speaking of picking up, I lifted Pinkie up by her under arms…fore hooves…whatever. Who cares if I’m anatomically correct?

“Tehe! Hunty, that tickles!” she said through her giggles, wiggling around as I placed her on the ground next to my bed.

“Pinkie, I’ll tell you what I've told you the last seventy eight times you asked,” I began (and yes, I had counted), “No, I will not give you a ‘tummy rub’.” She pouted for a second before breaking out into a large smile.

“Well, I guess I’ll just keep asking!” she said happily. Pinkie then proceeded to ask by for a tummy rub at the following intervals:

While I was getting up, while I was in the shower (she was outside the bathroom, folks), while I was brushing my teeth, while I applied deodorant, while I got dressed, while we walked downstairs, while we said hi to the Cakes, while we said hi to the twins, while we were walking to the kitchen, while we arrived at the kitchen, while I turned on the oven, while we were mixing cupcake batter, while we filled the cupcake tin with batter, while we put them into the oven, and then asked approximately fifty two times while we waited for the cupcakes to cook.

While we took the cupcakes out of the oven, while I put them down on the table, while I pulled out the frosting from the pantry, while I put the frosting can down on the table, while I got a plastic knife for spreading, while I opened the frosting can, while I applied frosting to the knife, I think you’re getting the gist so you might as well just skip the rest of this paragraph, while I spread frosting onto the first cupcake, while I spread frosting onto the second cupcake, while I spread frosting onto the third cupcake…

There were twenty cupcakes. Twenty!

She asked me for a tummy rub ninety four times from when I woke up to when we were done baking the first batch of cupcakes. Just the first one, mind you!

It was about noon when I was beginning to snap. Pinkie was pretty much spitting out requests to get some rubs for her tummy like a fully automatic, squeezing them between orders.

“Here you go can I have a tummy rub?” she said whilst giving Derpy a blueberry muffin. The mail-mare looked confused for about a nanosecond, which was how long it took before I registered Pinkie’s question and gave her my trusty answer.

“No.”

“Please?”

I savored the variation of her question, seeing as all she had been asking before was the same old mantra, but I remained strong.

“No.”

“Pretty please?”

“No.”

“Pretty please with sprinkles on top?”

“No.”

“Pretty please with-“

“Mrs. Cake!” I yelled abruptly, surprising Pinkie. “I'm taking my lunch break!” There was a muffled call of acknowledgement from the kitchen, and I took that as permission for me to leave my post. I took off my white apron, my only piece of uniform, and threw it across my shoulder, landing on Pinkie’s face. And with that, I proceeded to storm out of the confectionery, attracting the attention of several ponies.

“Hunty, wait for me!” I heard Pinkie Pie yell from behind me. Ignoring her plea, I walked right out the door and headed for nowhere. Just somewhere away from her, before something I’d regret could happen.

“Hunty!”

I shut my eyes. Shut up.

“Hunty!”

I grinded my teeth. Shut up!

"Hunty!”

I clamped my hands over my ears. SHUT UP!

“HUNTY!”

...Hunty?

Something snapped.

”SHUT, UP!"

The first thing I registered is that all of the sound from the hustle and bustle of the busy street had ceased. The second was a faint deflating sound. Finally, my senses returned to me as my brain analyzed what had happened in the past five seconds of blind rage. I had whipped around, opened my eyes, unclasped my hands, gotten right up to Pinkie Pie, and…oh no.

I took in the sight before me. Everypony on the street had stopped and was staring at me. But they weren't important. The mare in front of me was what was important.

I don’t think devastated is a strong enough word. Her mouth was slightly open and quivering, her ears flat against her head, her mane losing most of its puffiness and falling just short of being limp. But her eyes were the absolute worst part: their usually sparkling cerulean hue was replaced with a dull and grey toned blue, and the eyes were beginning to fill with tears. I had seen those eyes before...

NonononononononononononoNO!

“P-Pinkie, wait, I-“I extended a hand towards her and she flinched away. You have no idea how much of a bastard that makes someone feel like.

“I…I-I’m sorry, Hunter.” Pinkie said despondently, obviously trying her best to stave off her tears. She failed. Turning on her hooves, she ran all the way back to Sugarcube Corner, her sobs echoing through my mind.

I looked around, unsure of what to do. Everypony was glaring at me, and I knew it wasn't for being an alien. Not this time. This time, I had made the most popular pony in town cry, and that put me on the residential shit list. I quickly ran after Pinkie, thoughts of what occurred running through my head, the main one being the set of rules I had made for myself upon learning that I had to live in this world. One of them was that I couldn't corrupt the innocence of this place, so no lewdness and no cursing. Another was that I would never instigate violence. One of the most important ones, at least to me, was to never make anypony cry, especially mares, and with two ponies in mind: Flutters and Pinks. I’d realized a long time ago that these ponies have never experienced anything as cruel as something a human could dish out, and tried to be as careful as I could about what I said. But looks like I screwed that up. To be fair, Pinkie was being annoying…no, no, that didn't excuse what I said. I had to make it up to her.

...Goddammit.

When I entered Sugarcube Corner, Mr. and Mrs. Cake gave me the sternest looks I’d ever seen on them.

“Where’s Pinkie!?” I asked urgently.

“In her room, crying her eyes out.” Mr. Cake said coldly. The couple were standing in front of the stairwell, blocking my entry.

“What did you say to Pinkie?" Mrs. Cake said, using the same tone. The other ponies in the room were stock still and tried to look away from the situation at hand, keeping their eyes on their food.

“Something I need to apologize for.” I replied, my tone resigned. They continued to glare at me. “Like…right now.” They didn't move. I let out a sigh. “Look, I get it, I screwed up, like, really screwed up, but I want to make it up to her. Can I please see her?” Groveling to ponies, a species that not a month ago I thought were dis-sentient. That was…kind of weird.  

The Cakes gave me a wary look, but looked at each other and nodded after a moment. They moved out of the way of the stairwell, allowing my entry. I gave a quick nod of thanks and ran straight up.

About halfway up I began to hear the sound of quiet, muffled sobs. An innocent, happy, bubbly pony was crying because I couldn't keep my stupid temper in check. My heart couldn’t take much more of this.

I reached the top of the stairwell into the loft that Pinkie and I shared. The party pony was laying in her bed, her face buried in a pillow, her body racked with sobs.

Well…here goes nothing.

“Pinkie?” I asked quietly, keeping my distance. Pinkie looked up from her pillow and I saw her eyes, dull blue and brimmed with red from the tears she’s shedding. She shifted herself and lied down on her side, facing the wall, away from me. I was a bit surprised that she didn't have any angry or sad words to say to me, but realized what hurt me much more were my own actions towards her.

I moved towards her bed, and if she had a problem with me getting any closer, she didn't show it. She didn't move when I sat down on the bed and faced her back.

“Pinkie, please look at me.” I pleaded. She didn't move. I gently grasped her shoulder, eliciting no reaction from her, and delicately pulled her onto her back. She looked up at me with puffy red eyes brimming with sorrow yet touched with curiosity, and I met her gaze.

“I’m sorry for yelling at you.” I say with complete sincerity. “I’m so sorry. I shouldn't have…I…I didn't mean to…” I trailed off a bit. I’m not good with words.

I let out a sigh as I collected my thoughts and pressed on. “Don’t take what I said to heart. I was frustrated, and not by you, not really. It’s just….forget it. Look, I cannot express in words how much it hurts me to see you hurt, and that pain is doubled when I know that I caused it.” I felt a stinging in my eyes, but was never sure whether I was tearing up or not.

She still had that look on her face.

“I…I don’t deserve your forgiveness…I’ll just…let myself out.” I started to get up from the bed, resigned to the idea that Pinkie will never be my friend again, when I pink furred hoof (somehow) grabbed my shirt.

“Pinkie?” I turned around to see a small smile on the mare’s face, growing slowly but surely.

She pulls herself up to her haunches and wraps her fore hooves around my back before pulling me into a hug, burying her head in my chest.

“I forgive you, Hunty.” she said, her voice a bit ragged from the crying. “I’m super-duper sorry I was bothering you. I...I should have let it go. I shouldn't have-"

I wrapped my arms around her and pulled her deeper into the hug, cutting off the rest of her apology.

“It's okay, Pinkie.”  I murmured into her ear. "I forgive you too." Pinkie remained quiet as we continued the hugging session, but I still felt pretty bad about screaming at her. Okay, yes, she may have had it coming but I don't think anybody has ever gone off on her like I did. If I had done this to a human, whatever, I probably would have decked them too. But to a vulnerable pony...it doesn't sit well with me. But I do know one way to cheer her up enough to put me at peace.

Oh God, here it comes…

“Hey Pinks?”

“…Yes, Hunty?”

I let out a long sigh before fully resigning to my fate.  “Would you like a tummy rub?”

“WOULD I?!?!” Pinkie yelled in my ear. She pulled away from the hug and fell backwards, landing bouncily on the bed on her back. I tried to be a good sport about it, but I also really, REALLY hoped that she wouldn't react like ol’ Sparklebutt did. I picked Pinkie up, one hand under her shoulders and the other under hind legs and turn to the side, sitting with my back to her headboard and a pony on my lap. I resist ‘awww’ing when I see that Pinkie’s fore hooves are curled up adorably. Her eyes are sparkling at me and she was grinning in anticipation of what she was sure to be, in her likely thoughts, THE BEST, TUMMY RUB, EVER!

“Just…just don’t be weird about this, okay?” I said with trepidation. She quickly nodded and poked her belly.

“Sure, just get rubbing!” she projected happily.

I don't think she knew what I meant.

Oh, and something I forgot to mention. I did say that I was a bit of a baker, but that was just in my off time. Off time from what? Being a physical therapist. Well, massage therapist. Masseur. Whatever, technicalities. So that thing I said about human fingers isn't exactly true for every human, I suppose. I mean, yeah, I imagine that five small things massaging you feels better than one blocky thing (don’t think too hard about that), but knowing where to apply pressure and how much of it to apply does help.

So now you know why my massages were so good. Well, I couldn't know for sure if they were any good, but my customers back on Earth seemed to think they were average at best. But when I started going to work on Pinkie’s stomach, she just…well…okay, granted, she didn't react like Twilight did. Her eyes went wide for a moment at the sensation, then they closed as her mouth grew a small smile. Not a smile of mirth or pleasure of the ‘forbidden’ variety, but a smile of content. Her limbs were twitching a bit, her right hind leg especially, but other than that she seemed-

“Mmmmm…” she cooed under her breath. “You’re really good at this…”

Okay, nope. Time out.

I paused the tummy rub and the mare pouted at me.

“Pinkie,” I began, “what did I say about being weird about this?” Pinkie looked back at me with a confused look on her face, her eyes now open.

“I didn’t really know what that meant. I’m pretty weird, Hunty. You gotta be more specificacious.” Pinkie said proudly. I took my hand away from her stomach to face palm, both at her confusion and her made up word.

“I meant, ‘don’t act like Twilight acted’.” I explained whilst my hand dragged down my face.

“So…don’t make noise?” Pinkie said, grasping for an answer. Now, the actual thing I meant was obviously, ‘don’t make any…okay I’ll say it, SEXUAL, noises’, but, hey, close enough.

“Right.” I said. Pinkie gave a nod of understanding and locked her mouth with an imaginary key. I rolled my eyes at her display, but put my hand back onto her tummy regardless. After about ten minutes of rubbin’, with the occasional ‘a little to the left’ and that sort of thing (which I decided to not point out as her making noise), I decided that I’d done my job.

“Awwww…” she said dejectedly when I removed my hand from her stomach.

“I think ten minutes is enough for one day, Pinks.” I said. She perked up at that.

“You mean we can do this again!?!” she asked excitedly. I smiled and nodded in confirmation, and she, no joke, straight up squeaked. Like, not as in a high pitched squeal, I mean the sound of a rubber ducky came out of nowhere when she grinned back at me.

I’d stopped questioning Pinkie Pie. I found it better for my health to just accept the strange things that happen around her.

“Sooooooo,” I drew out, “you forgive me?” She responded by sitting up in my lap and giving me a bone-crushing hug around my midsection. How something so light can be so strong, I’ll never know.

“I already did, you silly-willy Hunty-wunty!” she said, then pulled away from the hug and bopped me on the nose, making sure to be very gentle. Cause, you know. Hooves. I got an evil idea and gave her a look of confusion.

“Hey, Pinks, my hand feels funny.” I said, feigning concern as I lifted my hand in front of my face.

“What’s wrong?” she said with very real concern, which almost made me feel bad, but what I’ll do next will make up for it.

“Oh no! Pinkie, it’s, it’s-“I said with fake fear, convulsing my hand. Pinkie caught on and backed up off of me.

“THE CLAW!” she yelled. Yeah, I’ve done this before with her.

“Pinkie, run! Save yourself!” I yelled back, an uncontrollable smile on both of our faces, breaking all sense of immersion in our act. I reached over with ‘the claw’ and tickled the bejesus out of Pinkie’s tummy, who began to laugh uproariously.

“No, no not the claw!” she squealed between laughs. I withdrew my hand and dramatically gasped for air.

“Nothing can stop the CLAW!!!!” I announced before diving back into tickling. Pinkie escaped my grasp and galloped to the door, giggling all the while.

“Run, girl, run!” I called after her, running after her with my hand leading. “Save yourself!”

I descended the stairs in hot pursuit. When I made it to the bottom, I saw that the Cakes had been manning the store and that most of the customers were giving me the stink eye. Pinkie ran up to a gray mare in a dress and dived behind her and…oh wait, one more thing I didn't say:

The day before that day, Pinkie told me that her sister was coming into town. I’d asked her what she was like, and Pinkie told me that she was fun and loved rock candy…and rocks. Just, like, rocks in general. I had mentally rolled my eyes at this and asked a couple of Pinkie’s friends what the Pie sister was really like, and they had told me that while she was outwardly rather emotionless,  she cared a great deal for her little sister. And also she could punch through solid rock. A deadly combination if there ever was one. Anyway, I hadn’t asked about why she was visiting, but I’d bet it had something to do with a six foot tall alien biped living with her sister. But that was just a hunch.

“Do the claw to Maud, Hunty, do the claw to Maud!” Pinkie called out from behind her gray sister. Seeing the pony that must have been Maud, I expertly deduced that she was exhibiting extreme symptoms of ‘not in the mood’. Her face was completely blank, showing no emotion whatsoever besides a touch of boredom. And in addition to the whole ‘she can punch through solid rock’ thing, I wasn’t about to invite her to tickle town.

“Uh oh.” I said in mock horror. “You’ve found the claw’s only weakness. SUB-ZERO TEMPERATURES!” And with that, I let out a shuddering gasp and flipped my hand over, a wet raspberry at the end accenting the claw’s death.

You know what’s a blessing and a curse about being thrown into a world that had no knowledge of yours? References. So long as I use them out of context, I’m a riot.

Pinkie laughed at my display, and the Cakes just rolled their eyes and smiled, happy to see that we were over our little spat. In fact, everyone in the room looked relieved that we seemed to have gotten our issues resolved.

I got the chance to fully take in Maud’s appearance, and if I had one word to describe her, it would probably be ‘bland’. Her coat was a blank gray, her mane was a dull purple which her eye shadow matched, and she was wearing a simple dark blue dress. The one thing that made it clear that she was Pinkie’s sister was her eyes, which matched Pinkie’s point for point.

“So, um…” I said, awkwardly addressing Maud. “How’s that for a first impression?”

She blinked very slowly at me, not unlike how Gummy blinks. “It was different.” she said, her voice very dry. If I had to compare it to anything familiar to me, it would probably be Raven from Teen Titans. She even had the purple hair and the gray skin…well, fur, but you get the idea.

Pinkie jumped up to Maud’s side and wrapped a hoof around her. The gray mare didn’t react. I have a feeling that her not reacting to anything will be a running theme. “Hunty, this is my super-duper awesome-saucem big sister Maud!" she said excitedly. "Maud, this is my friend Hunty!”

“Hunter is fine.” I interjected. I didn’t mind Pinkie’s pet name, but it didn’t exactly roll off the tongue. In fact, I have absolutely no room to talk, considering that within the first day on this pony planet I gave out nicknames to all of Pinkie’s best friends. Rainbow Dash’s was probably my favorite one: Skittles. Man, I’m so original and clever. “It’s nice to finally meet you, Maud.”

Maud gave me a blank look which I can’t really call a stare, considering she showed extreme disinterest.

“Likewise.” She said in a dry voice.

…Oh my God. Purple hair. Gray skin (fur, whatever). Extreme disinterest. Dry voice. Oh holy hell, it’s Raven from Teen Titans.

I was going to voice this, but quickly realized that no one would get the reference. Besides, that was my first time talking to Maud, so it was in my best interest to keep the weird human stuff to myself for the time being.

But I still couldn't chuckling at the thought. Maud’s expression didn't change, and she didn't acknowledge my outburst, so I didn't find it necessary to explain myself.

“We were just getting done with a tummy rub!” Pinkie said excitedly. AGH!

“Pinkie!” I said sharply. I had literally just met her sister, and she was telling her about…well, I guess it wasn’t *shudder* physical, not in THAT sense anyway, but still, it can be misconstrued.

Maud didn’t even flinch. I’d seen walls with more emotional output.

“Tummy rub?” Maud said, her voice barely having the inflection required for her sentence to sound like a question.

“Yep!” Pinkie shot back. “See those thingies on his arms?” she pointed at my hands.

Seriously, Spike has hands, Henry the Bear has hands, why does no one here know what hands are?

“Pinkie-“I said, trying to stop this train before it crashed, but to no avail.

“They feel all ‘YAY!’ when they rub rub rub!” SHREEEEECH CRASH!

My eyes widened in horror at the innuendo that Maud couldn’t miss unless she was as dense as a boulder.

“Woah woah woah!” I said with my hands out, trying to salvage the wreckage. “Pinkie dogged me into giving her a massage, that’s all she meant!” Pinkie gave me an odd look as Maud…well, yeah. Blank.

“What else would it have meant?” Maud said in her bordering on sociopathic voice. I had to raise an eyebrow at that.

Did…did that really just fly over her head? You know, now that I think about it, in my time here I have heard exactly zero innuendos or sex jokes or…anything in reference to anything sexual. Did ponies not know about…no no no, that’s just stupid. Of course they know; how could they not?

“Um…nothing.” I said cautiously. I wasn't about to dig even bigger hole for myself by voicing my thoughts. “Anyway, it was nice meeting you Maud and I’d love to stay and chat, but Pinkie and I kind of left the Cakes with the counter and I can hear the twins from the kitchen.” That wasn’t an excuse either, I could hear the foals from here, and what with the Cakes having to periodically check on them, business was going slower than normal.

“OHMIGOSH!” Pinkie yelled out, causing everyone in the room to flinch (excluding one certain gray mare) “Maud hasn’t met the twins yet!”

So let’s talk about the twins. Upon first glance they may dazzle you with their apparent cuteness, their charmingly adorable smiles that paralyze any mortal they come across. But then, you look up from their little mouths and gape in complete awe at the sheer horror of what lies above; their eyes. Their irises make up for about ninety percent of their eyes, the remaining ten belonging to their milky pupils. To stare into the eyes of the twins is to stare into the universe itself, to come to the soul shattering understanding of the infinite power and wisdom of these GODS AMONG US. ALL HAIL THE TWIhihihaahahaha!

Yeah, I’m not sure where that came from. Just being a goof, I guess. The twins are about as omnipresent and godly as Gummy. Granted, their eyes are a bit creepy, but you get used to them. I love the little guys; they’re always very affectionate for me, and I think I felt my heart explode the first time Pumpkin said ‘Hunty’ (hence Pinkie’s nickname for me). Although, they did make me a bit nervous; at that age, they’re pretty impressionable, so I have to watch what I say and do even more so than usual.

Pinkie ran into the kitchen, leaving a pink blur behind her. Maud and I exchanged a look, me with a raised eyebrow and her with her signature expression of nothing. I shrugged.

“Well, come on.” I said, understanding that I wasn’t getting away from Maud this easily. I leisurely walked into the kitchen with Maud in tow, giving Mr. and Mrs. Cake a quick smile on the way. Entering the kitchen, I saw that both the twins were crying and that Pinkie was holding a bag of flour above her head. Oh, not again!

“Pinkie, stop!” I belted out. Pinkie turned to me, looking confused. I took the bag of flour from her and set it down on the ground. I really don’t want to have to clean that up later, especially considering that pouring a bag of flour on yourself isn’t the only way to calm a baby down.

“Pinks, you don’t have to do that every time.” I informed her. The unasked question of ‘you’ve got a better idea?’ shone in her eyes, and I quickly answered it. I sat down between Pound Cake and Pumpkin Cake on the ground and put an arm around each of them, pulling them up to my chest.

“Shh, sh sh, It’s okay” I whispered gently, rocking them back and forth by swiveling my hips. I was really hoping that Pumpkin wouldn’t blast me with her magic or that Pound would start punching me, but my whispers of assurance eventually calmed their wailing down to quiet sobs. Well, I have one more trick up my sleeve. I closed my eyes and started to sing as gently as I could.

"Rock-a-bye baby, on the treetop.

When the wind blows, the cradle will rock.

When the bough breaks, the cradle will fall.

And down will come baby, cradle and all."

That song always makes me a little sad. Too many memories.

When I opened my eyes, I had two sleeping foals in my arms, their eyes wet but their mouths curved into smiles that inspired one to appear on my face. I lifted Pound up to Pinkie, who took him in her hooves and placed him on her back with a grateful smile and walked out the kitchen to return him to his crib upstairs. I got up and was about to exit the kitchen when Maud interrupted me.

“Could I carry her?” she deadpanned. I thought on it for a moment, but decided there wasn’t any harm in it. Crouching down, I put Pumpkin on Maud’s back. Immediately the filly squirmed to find a comfortable spot, worrying me for a moment that she’d fall off. Pumpkin eventually gripped onto Maud’s mane and pulled herself closer to it, her body rubbing against Maud’s neck. Maud craned her neck carefully to catch a glimpse at the foal, and her blue eyes held a sudden warmness in them; fleeting and subdued, but there none the less. She turned to me and her expression turned back to its default setting.

“Thanks.” She said briefly before walking out of the kitchen to follow Pinkie. I smirked at her retreating form. She’s a bit off, isn’t she?

As I exited, Mrs. Cake took a glance at me from behind the counter. Her smile at seeing her foals being cared after fell as she looked at me, her expression of quiet joy turning into one on concern.

“Dear, are you alright?” She asked worriedly. What?

“Yeah.” I responded, confused. “Why wouldn’t I be?” She just pointed a hoof at her own eye.

Understandably confused, I haphazardly wiped my face with a hand, and was a bit surprised at what I felt.

Tears.

Next Chapter: The Butt-Tattoo Advocates Estimated time remaining: 3 Hours, 10 Minutes