Freak... that was the word that made Geralt want to take his sword out and decapitate anyone who says it to him. But, for customers wanting his service and, well, to avoid prison, he had to let it pass, and this was no different. Geralt took a deep breath before speaking.

"Fine. I'll wait." He could've easily just sat down and meditate in front of them, but, just to cleanse his curiosity, he looked around. Wanting more information on the land, not saying Twilight's books were bad, Geralt headed into the library, seeing (mostly) fancier looking ponies, all shocked to see him. He entered the library, the loud noise of the market now dimmed, as there was only whispering and the occasional noise unicorn horns make when they're using a spell. Before he took another step, an elderly unicorn mare wearing orange glasses stood in the way.

"Excuse me," she whispered, but also sounded authoritative. "The library is a place of knowledge, not a battleground." He knew what she was talking about.

"Don't worry, I have no intentions on fighting anyone here."

"I don't care if you do or don't; no weapons are allowed."

"... Can I leave my swords here, then go and-"

"Do I look like the type of pony that holds stuff for other ponies? Either leave your weapons at home or don't come here at all." Geral't horn glowed, ready to cast an Axii, but felt his body lifted with a blue aura. The elderly mare lifted him easily and threw him out of the door. Geralt fell down the stairs roughly, though the blows only left bruises across his body. He couldn't believe it, but the mare's magic was strong enough to carry him, and she was much older than him! He stood up and stared at the door, growling at the mare inside.

"Bitch!" He turned and marched away angrily, but soon, calmed himself down. He was new to this world, afterall, and he shouldn't be too surprised that, in a city like this, weapons would either be forbidden or monitored greatly. Besides, the princesses may only allow some books to be published, as a way to keep themselves in charge, so it would be biased information. For unbiased information, he decided to head to the local tavern; he needed a drink anyway.

He entered a tavern near the market called "The Prancing Pony", seeing what he expected: a couple of guards on break, some mercenaries boasting about their skills, scholars talking about the newest discovery, newcomers comparing & contrasting this land to theirs, and a couple of single men trying to get lucky with a woman. Geralt took a seat on the stool, a bit surprised that the other ponies sat like human on their own stool. He was approached by a stout blue earth pony mare with a black mane.

"What'll it be, honey?" she asked in a demanding, yet welcoming way.

"The best drink you got." Geralt answered, pulling out his creature book to finish it.

"Oh! New to Equestria, ain't ya?"

"...You can say that. Just need to know what a Thestral is."

"...You ain't seen a Thestral before?"

"No, I haven't, and so far, people are whispering that I'm a Thestral-Blood."

"Ah, it's because of your eyes."

"...My eyes?"

"See... Thestrals aren't like most ponies or creatures around here. Save for Griffins and Dragons, Thestrals are a predatory species, something that not a lot of us are alright felling to be around."

"What do they look like?"

"They look like any other pony, but they got the eyes you have, sir: cat-like irises that range from orange to yellow. Their ears aren't exactly pointy as us, but are ruffled at the tips, most likely to hear much better. Finally, the real noticeable thing about Thestrals, is their wings: huge, leathery wings that look like that of a bat, silent as silent can be as they fly across the night sky."

"Hm... sounds weird."

"Weird?"

"Some guards told me that they work for the Night guard. Is that true?"

"Ah, yes. Many Thestrals see Princess Luna as their creator and, in return, they joined her in her as her guards, loyally taking orders and sacrificing themselves to her greatness."

"And those that don't become her guards?"

"...That's where Thestrals gain a bad name; Many Thestrals become thieves, murderers even, when everyone else is asleep, and though they hide it well, they have sharp canines that allow them to drink blood from their victims. The victims don't know this because Thestrals have a venom that numb their senses, but Thestrals, as far as I know, used to need blood to survive, but have gotten use to not needing blood, only taking it if it's necessary. I haven't seen one in action, but I have been bitten before, and a couple of Thestrals order fruit regularly."

"Fruit?"

"Yes, while I did say Thestrals drink blood when they really need to, they really enjoy the sweetness of fruit, drinking it's contents and spitting out seeds, usually at each other for fun."

"Hm... they sound childish."

"They are indeed."

"How do you know about Thestrals well enough?"

"Oh, my husband is a Thestral himself."

"...Did he-?"

"Oh, he hasn't at all! He's one of the royal guards for Luna himself. We both run this place together. But since you've been a kind fellow, listened carefully, and aren't negative towards Thestrals, this one is on the house." She handed Geralt a mug filled with an alcoholic drink.

"...What is this?"

"Apple Cider, hon. Drink, it's good."

"Thanks." He lifted the mug with his hoof (though he didn't know how), and drank the delicious drink. The door to the Tavern opened again, but loudly, followed by the sound of some men talking to each other.

"Oh no! Sir; move to another seat!"

"Why?"

"That's Bonecruncher and his men! You're in his seat!"

"... I've dealt with these type of men before." He took another swig.

"And I said 'you hit like a filly'!" A deep voice spoke, probably the leader, Bonecruncher.  

"What did you do then?" One of his men asked.

"Heh, I snapped him like a twig!" The men laughed, but it died fast. Geralt felt a tapping on his shoulder. "Hey! That's my seat!" Geralt turned to see that Bonecruncher was a Minotaur with many scars and had six followers behind him: a griffin that was striped, a pegasus missing his left ear, a small earth pony in heavy armor, two changeling marked & in chains, and a young Thestral mare. Geralt turned back to the bar.

"I don't see your name on it." He took a swig.

"What!? Do you know who I am!? I'm Bonecruncher!!! The strongest Minotaur in Equestria! Who are you to say that that's not my seat!?

I'm a Witcher

Someone you don't want to be angry

Just a traveler.

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