“Forty seven,” Trixie said after Sumac failed to count past the mid thirties once again. She gave the colt a patient smile. “There are forty seven wagons. There are fifty four little foals here, all competing for a chance to prove themselves.” Trixie drew in a long breath, held it, and it came out almost as a sigh, but not quite. “And we are number twenty seven on the list, which means we’re going to be waiting for a while. But that’s okay, right?”

Sumac, no longer trying to count the wagons, hardly heard a word Trixie had been saying. He was now staring at Princess Twilight Sparkle’s crystal palace, entranced, his little green eyes were open wide.

“We have to go inside and register,” Trixie said, trying to get Sumac’s attention. “Hey, you… yes, you with the fuzzy ears.”

Blinking, Sumac looked at Trixie, his fuzzy ears twitching.

“We have to go inside and you have to sign your name in a book and I have to register you. It’s going to be crowded. Are you going to be okay with that?” Trixie leaned over a little, put on her glasses, and checked out Sumac’s face. Unsatisfied with what she saw, she grabbed him, hooking a foreleg around his neck, pulled him closer, and then tried to scrub his face with a soft, clean cloth she had conjured from the wagon.

Squirming, Sumac tried to wiggle free, but Trixie was far too experienced at this sort of thing. She wiped around his eyes, his nose, his mouth, ignoring his moans of protest, not wanting to present a student with a dirty, disgusting face. That would not do. Truth be told, Sumac needed a bath. Sighing, Trixie realised that she would have to drag him off to the river and give him a good dunking, but that would have to come later. There would be lots of running, catching, kicking, pleading, begging, crying, whimpering, bargaining, at some point somepony would get soap in their eye, with a good fifty fifty split odds on either Sumac or Trixie, maybe both.

With luck, some concerned do-gooder might come along, trying to save Sumac from Trixie drowning him in the river, and Trixie would have to explain the rules of engagement during bath time to the well intentioned rescuer. All was fair in love and bathing. Sighing, Trixie resigned herself to her fate, knowing there was no escaping it.

Sumac let out a frustrated grunt and then darted away once Trixie let go of him. He was glaring at her, his messy wheat coloured mane spilling down over his face and covering one eye. Trixie, smiling, thought that Sumac was just adorable looking when he was indignant. She saw his lips pucker, and then with a huff, he tried to blow his mane out of his face.

“Let’s go, kiddo. Let’s get this over with.”

Worried, some strange instinct rose up inside of Trixie, some feeling of strange overprotectiveness, some feeling of near omniscience relating only to Sumac, somehow, Trixie knew what Sumac was feeling and thinking. He was having trouble getting up the steps, he was timid, fearful, and Trixie worried that he might try to make a run for it.

Trixie’s knees weren’t up for an extended run. If Sumac tried sprinting for safety, she was going to have to cheat and use magic. When Sumac came to a halt on the broad, white stairs, she planted her left front hoof on his bottom and gave him a gentle shove to coax him to keep going. She heard Sumac swallowing as he stared up at the oversized, enormous doors. Twilight’s castle appeared as though giants lived inside.

Much to Trixie’s surprise, Sumac kept going, his short, stubby legs struggling to climb the stairs, with each stair almost being as tall as Sumac’s legs. The stairs, it seemed, had been crafted with long, gangly alicorn legs in mind, not the common pony, and certainly not little foals with stubby little legs.

When Sumac stepped on the landing, the doors opened on their own, inviting them inside. The main hallway was packed with ponies, both adults and foals. Trixie heard a whimper from Sumac, and as she stood on the landing, she felt Sumac pressing up against her hocks, and she was aware of the colt brushing up against her tail.

There were a lot of ponies inside. The castle was packed. Trixie, feeling worried, wondered if she was going to be able to get Sumac inside at all. She was wondering if she would be able to get herself inside. She stuck her own courage to the sticking place, took a deep breath, and just as she was getting ready to make her way indoors, a white unicorn stepped out onto the landing.

“Greetings, darling… oh dear, Trixie… it really has been quite a while.”

Ears splaying out sideways, Trixie stood looking at Rarity. They had never really gotten along, but Trixie understood that was mostly her fault, not Rarity’s. Determined to do the right thing for Sumac’s sake, Trixie smiled.

“Oh my goodness… oh dear, oh dear, we have a shy one, don’t we?” Rarity asked as she took a cautious step towards Sumac, who was still cowering against Trixie’s hind leg.

“He does okay in crowds,” Trixie said as one of Sumac’s forelegs wrapped around her hind leg. “But really big crowds can be a challenge for anypony. Sumac, say hello. This is Rarity.”

After waiting for several long seconds, no greeting seemed forthcoming, only silence. Trixie gave Rarity an apologetic smile, her ears drooping down a bit more. She gave her hind leg, the one that Sumac was clinging to, a gentle shake.

“The poor little darling is overwhelmed. Don’t worry, we prepared for this.” Rarity lifted her head and gave both Trixie and Sumac a warm smile. “You will have to face the crowd, but a short distance down the hallway, there is a door on the left. It is a small, quiet little room. We had another foal that was quite overwhelmed. If you can follow me, I will take you there. Sumac, do you think you can be brave and follow me?”

Blinking, peering out from behind Trixie, Sumac shook his head, giving Rarity an emphatic ‘no.’ Scooting over, he tried hiding himself in the silky confines of Trixie’s tail, not caring that it was filled with road dust.

“Sumac, if you close your eyes, I’ll carry you,” Trixie offered.

“Okay.” Sumac’s voice was little more than a nervous, squeaky whisper.

“Okay, hang on, close those eyes, and trust in Trixie…”

“Miss Lulamoon, we meet again. How have you been?” Hearing these words, Trixie paused just after shutting the door behind her. She blinked, knowing that familiar voice. She found herself staring at another unicorn, one she had met several times on the road. It was hard not to bump into this particular unicorn when on the road. He and his companion could be found almost anywhere.

Setting Sumac down upon the floor, Trixie looked around the room and saw another familiar face, another pony that was a common sight on the road. “Tarnished Teapot, Maud Pie, how have you been?” Trixie smiled, glad to see a few ponies that she knew. “This is Sumac, my student.” As Trixie spoke, Sumac darted beneath her and hid, peering out from between her front legs.

“Hello Sumac, you can call me Tarnish. This is Maud. And over there,” the tall unicorn pointed with his hoof over to the corner where a small earth pony filly was reading a book, “that is my sweet little Pebble Pie.”

Unable to help herself, Trixie smiled when the filly refused to pull her muzzle out of her book, much to her father’s consternation. She turned and looked at Maud and found that Maud was staring back at her, stony faced.

“Been adventuring?” Trixie asked, trying to make small talk.

“Tarnish and I just got back from tracking down Ahuizotl with Daring Do and Rainbow Dash. He stole a priceless mask from the Manehattan Museum of Arcane History. The mask had weather control powers. There was a hurricane and things got real exciting for a time,” Maud replied in a flat, dull monotone. “I got to study some pyramids. The stonework was amazing.”

Some ponies had all of the luck, Trixie thought to herself. She cleared her throat, wished that she had something amazing to talk about, and then realised that she had very little to say. Feeling nervous, Trixie jerked a bit when she felt Sumac’s ears tickling her barrel.

“There is paperwork to sign and stuff to do… I suppose I should get to that,” Trixie said, trying to find an excuse to get away. “Sumac, if you wait here, I’ll bring back the log book that you’ll need to sign. Do you think you’ll be okay here?”

No reply. Ears drooping, Trixie felt bad. She lowered her head and stared down between her front legs, her mane spilling over her face and obscuring her vision. She saw Sumac staring up at her, his face framed between her front knees.

“We’ll go with you,” Tarnish offered.

“What about Pebble?” Maud asked.

“Hmm.” Tarnish rubbed his chin. “Pebble needs to make friends and I think little Sumac could use a buddy. I think they’ll be fine if we leave them in here. They can get to know one another.”

There was a soft thump as Pebble’s book snapped shut and she turned her stony gaze upon her father, looking very much like her mother. She said nothing, but her eyes narrowed somewhat and her ears perked forwards.

“Right, now that we have that settled, we should be going. I bet they’re excited to get to know one another,” Tarnish said.

After glancing at Pebble, Maud turned her head around and focused upon Trixie, her face expressionless, her eyes half closed and sleepy looking. “Come on, Trixie, let’s catch up on old times. It’s good to see you again.”

All alone and trapped in a room with a filly was not Sumac’s idea of a good time. He sat in one corner and Pebble sat in the other corner. Sumac realised that something needed to be said between them, but he had no idea what. Pebble was a dark, chocolate brown with a violet mane and brilliant blue eyes. She was staring at him, her eyes almost unblinking, and giving him the creeps. She was wearing a smock, just like her mother had been wearing.

“You’re wearing clothes,” Sumac said, trying to start a conversation.

“I sunburn easily,” Pebble replied.

The filly spoke in a droning, bored sounding monotonous voice that befuddled Sumac. He didn’t know what to make of her or how she talked. He took a deep breath, almost said something, but then remained silent. He didn’t know how to talk to fillies, and this one was strange.

“Sumac. Toxicodendron vernix, a plant that contains toxins such as urushiol, which is a major irritant. I’ve always thought the plants were pretty, but I never touch them.” Pebble blinked but remained statuesque. “Daddy says that I need to make friends, but I already have friends. I talk to rocks.”

“You talk to rocks?” Sumac asked, not quite believing what he was hearing.

“Allow me to demonstrate,” Pebble replied.

As Sumac sat there, mystified and confused, the filly pulled a small, lumpy, purple stone from a pocket in her smock. She set it down upon the floor, poked it with her hoof, and then he heard the filly say, “Speak.”

“I saw your parents dancing!”

Startled, Sumac’s ears pinned back against his skull and he jerked his head backwards. The rock spoke! He was so focused on the rock that he did not see Pebble roll her eyes, nor did he know that he missed witnessing the rare sight of Pebble showing outward emotion.

“Your parents started saying a whole bunch of smoochy-woochy words to each other and then they started kissing—”

“Shut up, rock.”

“—and I saw your mother and father kissing each other as they danced and they were all romantic and ooshy-gooshy. They said it was time to make another Pie.” The rock began to make all manner of smooching sounds.

“Ugh, I hate rocks,” Pebble said as she poked the rock once more with her hoof, which caused it to go silent. She picked the rock up, stared at it for a moment, and then dropped it into her pocket. “Rocks never have anything useful to say. I take back what I said, I don’t have any friends.”

Sumac, who had seen ventriloquism, wasn’t sure what he had just witnessed. An earth pony that did magic… an earth pony that made rocks talk. He wasn’t quite sure he believed it. On the road, he had seen quite a few ponies that Trixie called ‘charlatans’ and ‘hucksters.’ If this was a trick, it was a spectacular one, because the rock had a very distinct voice that was very different from Pebble’s.

He could think of only one thing to say. “You’re weird.”

Much to Sumac’s surprise, the filly had a reaction to his words. Her eyes went wide, then narrowed, her ears rose and fell, and he could see her sides expanding from heavy breathing. Sumac felt bad, he hadn’t meant to be mean.

“Are you flirting with me?” Pebble asked.

“What? NO! That’s gross! Fillies are icky!” Sumac shuddered, his whole body shaking. “Ew, why would you even think that?” Sumac shook his head, squeezed his eyes shut, and once more, shuddered in revulsion. Fillies were gross, possibly the grossest thing ever.

“When Daddy says that Mama is weird, they usually start dancing and kissing and getting all moony eyed. It’s nasty.” Pebble cleared her throat, calmed, and sat there, staring at Sumac. “Sometimes, when they kiss, I get jealous and angry and I don’t know why.”

“Uh…” Sumac, stunned, did not know how to reply. He was trapped in a room with a very, very weird filly. She was smarter than him, that much was obvious, and she was so very weird. “Um…”

“Do you need a speech therapist?” Pebble asked.

“No!” Sumac blurted out.

“Is Trixie your mother?” Pebble’s head tilted off to one side.

“Well, uh, she’s my, uh, mentor. My guardian. She’s my teacher,” Sumac replied.

“Does she get romantic with other ponies? Do you get jealous?” Pebble blinked. “My Auntie Marble gets mad if she catches me reading her psychology books. I don’t know why.”

Stammering, Sumac tried to collect his thoughts, feeling very stupid and confused. “Trixie says that I’m the only stallion she needs in her life. I’m all the trouble she can handle.”

“Must be nice, having her all to yourself and not having to share her.” Pebble let out a sigh.

“You’re weird,” Sumac said in a low voice.

Pebble, inhaling, shook her head, her long, straight mane falling down over her face. “Stop flirting with me. That’s just disgusting. Just stop it.”

“But you are strange… totally nutters… you’re a freak.”

“I’m normal,” Pebble insisted. “My mother says that I’m just like her and she’s normal. You… you’re strange… you're named after a plant that makes ponies itch.”

“I can’t help how I was named.” Sumac shook his head and waved his hoof in a dismissive gesture. “Pebbles are little annoying things that hurt your frogs when you step on them.”

The filly blinked and her ears splayed out sideways. Still staring, her stare became more of a glare. After a moment, she let out a huff, then picked up her book, opened it, and then hid her face behind it.

Sumac, not quite sure what had just gone wrong, sat there, feeling bad, feeling angry, feeling confused, trapped in a small room with a filly that did not like him. When Trixie got back, she would see the mess he had made, and she would be disappointed with him.

Nothing hurt quite like Trixie’s disappointment. Sumac prepared himself for the worst.