Myrrh eventually got the Prowler under control after several minutes of yelling, shouting at it, and apologizing profusely to Pinkie and Crypt.

Crypt already wished she would shut up already. At least Pinkie had the decency to be relatively quiet, Myrrh never seemed to stop talking and narrating what she did. When she wasn't apologizing she was trying to make herself look 'cool' and subsequently stuttering like a nervous wreck.

He didn't know what sort of contradictory life-experiences would produce a person like this and, frankly, he didn't care. He wanted nothing to do with her, and the only reason he was sticking around was Pinkie.

Not that he didn't try to convince himself to turn a random direction and walk away from the two of them. He did. He really, really did. But he couldn't bring himself to do it.

So he was stuck with them.

A few minutes after they had set off again, Pinkie blinked. "You know, Crypt, you could ride on top of the Prowler."

"The roof's all yours, my man!" Myrrh said with a smirk. "I don't use it because the feel of the ground between my toes is just mm-mm great! But you don't have toes, so I bet you could just go up there. N-not that being toe-less is a bad thing, it's pretty sweet, actually. Not like sugar or anything."

With a grunt, Crypt leaped on top of the Prowler. It didn't slow down at all because of his weight. He wondered why there was even a harness for Myrrh in the first place if it could move itself like this.

"Hey, speaking of sweet..." Pinkie put a hoof to her chin. "You have sugar in here, Myrrh?"

"Yep, just pop open the doors and jump in," Myrrh said. "Watch for the broiler, and avoid the back."

"Why?"

"Reasons."

Pinkie rolled her eyes. "And here I thought I was escaping the secrecy. Tsk. Don't worry, it's fine, I can just tell there's going to be a running theme already." She jumped up to the Prowler's side and popped open the door, finding the interior to be almost completely filled with collectible trinkets, the only open space being Myrrh's bed. Pinkie entered and closed the door, cutting off Crypt's view.

He heard a lot of things crashing inside.

"Myrrh...?"

"She's fine," Myrrh said, laughing nervously. "Probably, anyway..."

"I diiiiiid it!" Pinkie said, jumping out of the Prowler with a bowl in her hooves. The bowl itself was filled with a fluffy, pink substance that looked a bit like her mane, but more like a cloud. "This, my friends, is cotton candy. You will eat it, and you will love it." She split it in three, giving a piece to each of them.

"...This is the best thing I've ever eaten," Myrrh said, clamping her jaws over the sugary cloud. "So... succulent."

"Too sweet, no substance," Crypt deadpanned.

Pinkie sighed. "It's not meant to have substance, it's meant to be enjoyable. I mean, food, duh!"

Crypt felt the instinct rise within him to correct her.

No. You left that way. Don't spread it out here.

"You're a fun one, Crypt..."

Crypt turned away from her, looking toward their goal. He could see the town in the distance. "Four miles until we reach our destination."

"I wonder what kind of people we'll find there!" Pinkie said with a grin. "Ponies? Dragons?"

"Eh, probably not dragons," Myrrh said, shrugging. "I haven't seen any of my kind in quite some time."

"Oh. But it could be something else! Dogs! Humans!"

"...Sure! Those are certainly... things!"

Pinkie shrugged. "Eh, who knows really. Who knows..."

Crypt looked at Pinkie - once again she was speaking strange, alien words. She may complain about how mysterious he was, but she was just as much, if not more so, confusing to him as he was to her. Once again he had to tell himself this was fine, and that was the way things should be. He could not ask her what she was without talking about himself.

And he would never do that. Ever again.

The Prowler moved on, across the land, toward the destination given to them by the mark of the Technician...