It was a good spring that year for Equestria. Particularly vivid and warm, it was fantasic weather for going on a holiday, and that particular afternoon was no exception. The sun had passed its zenith several hours ago, and all about them the world began to obtain that rosy golden hue that signals the beginning of evening, though the fiery globe itself had yet to touch the horizon.

For the four stallions, it was the last leg of today’s travelling. They had been supposedly been making up for lost time, or so Frederick had said, but it had been a few hours trotting steadily over the rocky road amidst the rolling grassy plains, and they had all grown a little weary. It was about four when they lay down to have a rest beneath the boughs of a very tall and thick fir tree.

For almost the whole day they had walked they had been amidst scrubby grassland, and so the lone shade was a welcome respite from the sun and the heat. Upon arriving, Pilsner immediate fell asleep at the tree’s base, snoring loudly.

Freddie had also taken refuge in the tree’s shady luxury, and sat in a small nook that its thick roots provided, but instead of sleeping had produced from his pack a small sheath of music notes. He scribbled away incessantly and silently, occasionally glancing up, only to stare into the evening sun thoughtfully.

Clover lay on his back in the sun, his cowboy hat over his face. It didn’t belong to him, and he was no more suited to wear it than Pilsner was, but he had acquired it in a game of cards several weeks ago from a Stallion called Canary, and had worn it doggedly ever since.

Caramel did not particularly feel the need to rest. He had been to bed relatively early the night before while the others had stayed in the bar drinking, and was more anxious than tired. Instead of sitting down, he circled the tree’s giant roots, stopping here and there to look up and down the splintering trunk, wondering how old it was.

“What time is it?” Yawned Pilsner, stirring as Caramel passed him for what must have been the tenth or eleventh time.

“Six,” came the languid reply from the grassy knoll to his right.

“Six?! It’s still pretty light out.”

“The days are getting longer. It won’t be fully dark till about eight or nine.”

Pilsner struggled to all fours, shaking pine needles and twigs off of his coat.

“Well, let’s get going then?” He asked, half questioning and half pleading with the group at large.

The four agreed slowly that it was probably for the best, and they began to ascend out of the one tree valley up a steady slope. A solitary cloud came over the sun. It cast its lonely shadow where the four stallions walked, its white fluffiness igniting to a light orange. Despite being towards the evening, it was still incredibly hot and stuffy, and Caramel was thankful for the extra shade. It seemed to escort the four of them as they began climbing the hill in front of them.

“Anypony got any plans for tonight?” Lucky inquired, glancing around at his fellows.

“Maybe we could wait a little before going out,” Caramel replied quietly. “I wanted to have a look around the town first.”

Pilsner did not seem to notice Caramel, clapping his forehooves together excitedly.

“Oooh yeah! Can’t wait to have a good, cold, drink.”

Freddie gave an audible snort.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were an alcoholic, Pilsner,” he said stiffly.

“I am a connoisseur of fine beverages,” Pilsner replied, momentarily imitating Freddie’s accent. “And besides, this is what we’ve been looking forward to for a while now, right?”

Frederick nodded. “Yes, I suppose you are right.”

Pilsner turned his head, giving him a strange look, which he then shot sideways at Lucky.

“Freddie? Giving up on an argument?”

Lucky simply laughed, turning himself to face backwards for a bit as he walked.

“Yeah! What’s gotten into you?” he inquired to the musical stallion.

“He’s been quiet all trip,” Pilsner added, in a half whisper. “It’s because he’s been cooped up.”

“Cooped up?” Caramel inquired from behind them.

“Yeah, he’s been staying away from the ladies,” Pilsner replied, looking over at him. “Haven’t you noticed too?”

Caramel shook his head. “Can’t say that I have,” he said truthfully. He then peered over to examine his good friend. “What is he, sick or something?”

“He’s come down with a terrible fever,” Lucky said. Pilsner’s grin grew, and Caramel recognised the prelude to a joke. “I think it’s called ‘whipped-itis’.” This caused both him and Pilsner to break into peals of fresh laughter. Even caramel could not help but join in a little bit.

Freddie snorted and shook his head in disgust.

“Just because I don’t want to screw everything that moves,” he replied pointedly, glaring at Pilsner, “does not mean that I’m whipped.”

“Steady, Freddie, that’s not what I meant,” Lucky said. “That mare last night was all over you and you didn’t even bat an eyelid.”

“So what? I didn’t like her.”

“Well, you should have sent her our way.”

Freddie scoffed, his pale cream mane falling over his brow as he chuckled in surprise. “What, you two needed help?”

Lucky turned back to face the correct direction on the pathway, his cheeks a little red.

“Well… Not really,” he began to say, but Pilsner cut him off.

“Who, us?” He said, with a disarming smile. “No way! The waters were just a little icy.”

“Uh huh,” replied Freddie with an air of disbelief. “I’m sure you two fine gentlemen weren’t at fault at all.”

“We weren’t getting at you, you know,” Lucky added, a little hurt. “No need to get so sensitive about it.”

“Yeah!” Pilsner piped up. “It was just crazy how you held out so long. If she’d been sending me those kind of signals, I don’t think I could have done as well.”

Freddie, satisfied that he had won the argument, did not attempt to chase the subject. Instead, he just brushed his almost white hair out of his eyes.

“I think not being a sleazebag has a good part to do with it.”

Pilsner clutched his chest with a hoof, a pained expression forming over his rugged features.

“Argh!” he said, slowing his pace as he staggered, wounded. “Y’got me!”

“He has got a point,” Lucky said, and his friend straightened up.

“Oi!” The draft horse glared at him, now slightly indignant. “What, you too?”

Lucky shook his head.

“No, no – I  just think you’d probably do better if you lost the adjectives at the end of every sentence. Some girls just don’t like being called stuff like 'gorgeous'.”

“It is a tribute to their beauty,” Pilsner said, sticking his head up in the air and assuming what he thought was a heroic stride.

“No, it’s a tribute to how many drunk mares you’ve slept with,” interjected Freddie from behind him. "It's sleazy and stupid."

Pilsner sniffed a little. The heroic pose had obviously not given the effect intended.

“In any case, I dunno how you stick with Octy like you do,” he said a little sorely. “She’s so stuck up.”

“I look past it,” the musician replied. “She’s smart and attractive. And that’s not something you run into very much these days, is it?”

“True, true,” Pilsner hesitantly admitted, his bottom lip turned out as he nodded sagely.

Caramel was well aware of Frederick’s relationship with Octavia. It had lasted about as long than he’d known Freddie and Scratch. Octavia and he were almost exactly alike, so it made sense to him: both were lovers of classical music, both loved stuff like the Grand Galloping Gala, and both, though he would never admit it, were more tightly strung than the instruments they loved to play. At least while his friend was around, Caramel thought, Octavia was a little more down to earth, but around Pilsner she acted as all mares with a hint of self respect might act. Very, very coldly.

“And what about you, mate?”

It took Caramel a little while to realise that he was being talked to. He had phased out of the conversation, as it were, and it took Lucky dropping back and poking him with a hoof to come back to his senses.

“Hel-lo?” Pilsner said in a sing song voice. “Earth to Caramel, anyone home?”

“Huh?” Caramel replied, looking around. The other three were watching him.

“We were talking about which mare was to our liking last night.”

“Oh?”

“So what about you?” Pilsner asked.

It was not a particularly cornering question for Caramel. He liked a lot of girls. But he just couldn't chase them in the same way Pilsner did. He didn’t exactly enjoy talking about them by their looks, either, or being put on the spot.

“Um,” he said after a moment of thought, “I thought that white Unicorn with the blue mane was pretty good looking.”

“Really?” asked Pilsner, surveying him with some surprise. Lucky was similarly bemused.

“What?” asked Caramel, his eyes narrowing suspiciously. “What is it?”

“Nah, nothing,” replied the tall brewer.

“She looks like Scratch,” Lucky blurted out suddenly.

Caramel's stomach surged.

“For the last time, I don’t like Scratch." He fidgeted uncomfortably. "I mean, um... Not... Not like that.”

“You know she said you were pretty cute, right?” Pilsner said, his eyebrows rising a little bit, the same tentative look on his face as before.

“Yes, you’ve told me that before.”

“Mmkay. Well, you know, I was just saying.”

“No.” Caramel said more emphatically. “I dunno, I just don’t.”

Freddie was Caramel’s relief. He sped up his pace a little bit, and meandered between the flustered stallion and Pilsner.

“Hey, come on, fellas,” he said. “If he doesn’t want random bar fillies, then he doesn’t have to have them.”

“Scratch is a random bar filly?”

“No, but she's his friend.”

Caramel pawed the ground uncomfortably. Pilsner tried to peek over Freddie’s shoulder to look at him, but Freddie blocked his, drawing himself up to equal height to obscure his dismayed friend. Pilsner responded by craned his neck even higher – but he overdid it by trying to walk sideways, tripping over his hooves and stumbling forward. A spray of loose stones were sent showering back down towards the two stragglers, and Caramel winced as one bounced off his forehead. Freddie also copped a share of the rocks and dust, and he snorted.

There was a snorting laugh from nearby, followed by a voice.

“Nice moves!” it said.

Lucky turned his head away from the carnage to see who had spoken, imagining that the voice had come from somepony in front of them. He couldn’t see anyone, though, and he spun around once, looking confused. Caramel rubbed his forehead, and averted his eyes skyward to the single cloud that hovered above them. Freddie followed suit.

“I thought it was odd that the cloud was following us,” the musician said. By now, Pilsner had got to his feet, and was staring up at the source of the voice angrily.

“Hey!” he yelled back up at the cloud, shielding his face a little bit against the sun. “Who’s there?”

The laughter came again, though this time there was a guffaw thrown into the mix.

“You guys are funny,” the voice said again. It sounded a little grainy, almost high pitched in nature.

“Nopony likes an eavesdropper, pal,” Lucky called back. “Why not come down here?”

Caramel had to squint to see the outline of the cloud, but he could have sworn that a head had peered over the side. Then, as quick as a flash, a bright, multicoloured something landed next to Pilsner. Another small nova of dust billowed out from the road, and it was some time before it cleared, and they were able to get a good look at the pony who’d been listening to their conversation.

“A filly?” Pilsner said, surprised. Caramel had been rubbing the dirt out of his eyes from where Pilsner had kicked it, but he opened them as soon as he could. There before them stood a cyan Pegasus.

The most notable thing about her was her mane. As the wind escaped it, and it settled down, one could see that it was all the colours of the rainbow. Her forelock was orange, but then there were other colours. Yellow and red ran in streaks atop her head, and as it trailed down her neck, they turned a verdant sea of green and blue. At its end, the mane turned into a marvelous, dark violet colour. Her tail was decorated similiarly, and with her pale aquamarine coat and deep pink eyes, it gave quite the first impression. Her build was lithe, sleek and nimble, and Caramel thought she was definitely an athlete of some kind.

“You were expecting a guy?” The Pegasus quipped back. Pilsner glanced from her to us, and back again.

“Err… Yes, I was, actually.”

“Nah,” the Pegasus said, ruffling her wings a little so they fitted better against her lean body. “You guys just disturbed me back at the tree. Or rather, he did,” she said, pointing an accusing hoof at him. “Him and his snoring.”

Pilsner looked upset.

“I don’t snore...” he murmured, but his voice trailed off. He had been ignored by the filly,  and she stuck her hoof out, announcing who she was in a very loud and impetuous voice.

“The name’s Rainbow Dash. Nice to meet you,” she said, and Lucky smiled back, exchanging the greeting.

Caramel felt it was a bit less than nice to meet her, but he shook her hoof amiably all the same. It struck him as a little odd that she was so forward. Most of the ponies he knew wouldn’t have simply stopped and started stalking a bunch of random strangers for no reason.

“Sorry to have woke you,” he said as he released his grasp. Dash shrugged.

“Eh, it happens. Anyway, did I hear you folks saying you were going to the Bannered Mare?”

She looked around for approval, and the four of them nodded.

“Well,” she said, glancing back at Pilsner, “I’m a local. I could show you around town if you wanted.”

Strangely enough, Caramel was the first to speak. The other three were a little too unsure of what to say. The Pegasus appeared to be oblivious to her own forward nature, and Caramel liked that. He thought it was rather nice of her.

“Really? Thank you, we’d love it.”

“Hold on a minute,” Pilsner interjected. “Around town?”

Dash looked at him queerly.

“Yeah,” she said. “It’s just right over there.”

Lucky, who had by now come to his senses, swiftly trotted his way up the road to the top of the hill. He laughed at what he saw.

“Guys, it’s right over the hill,” he said. “We didn’t even need to rest.”

There was a mixed response. Caramel grinned. Frederic snorted. Pilsner sighed and clapped a hoof to his head.

“What, so you mean we just lazed around down there for like, an hour, when we could have been in town?”

“Yep!” the Rainbow maned mare fielded his question happily.

With the brief agreement that they would walk and talk, the four of them joined Lucky at the top of the hill.

As he reached the hill’s apex, Caramel saw what Lucky had seen, and his smile broadened. He loved country towns, and this quaint little village was no exception.

The tops of the buildings were easily visible from the hilltop where they stood, and in fact, the town itself couldn’t have been more than half a mile away. It looked like a thriving metropolis, but it carried with it all the country charms that he loved. It was nothing like Canterlot, where the city centre was made of glass and concrete. Ponyville was a vivid mess of all sorts of colours – white, red, yellow, green, brown...

In the far distance, he could see rolling fields of hay, wheat, and corn, and orchards of fruitful trees, with barns and farmhouses jutting up out of the landscape like great red cathedrals with pretty little wooden cottages next to them. What impressed Caramel more was how tranquil the sight before him was. The town was set in a swathe of leaves, and trees adorned the road towards the town, with lush, green grass growing either side of the path. It was a gorgeous sight, made all the more beautiful by the ever darkening sky, which was now dimming, coming close to a shade of red.

“Wow,” he breathed.

“Stunning!” Frederick uttered.

“Yeah, it’s not bad,” said Pilsner, surveying the scene with indifference, before turning his attentions back to the filly. “Now, which way to the Bannered Mare?”

“Woah, you’re keen!” Dash said, her rose eyes widening in surprise. “I guess you’re not all bawdy talk.”

“You’d be surprised,” Frederick added sardonically. This made dash giggle.

It was a wonderful giggle, Caramel thought. Quite different to the lazy snort he’d heard before, it sounded like the briefest tinkling of wind chimes - high pitched, yet squeaky and grainy at the same time.

“Alright,” she said, glancing around at us. “I’ll show you there first. You guys just staying the night?”

“Ehh, we wander,” Pilsner replied. “Depends how much we enjoy it here.”

“You’ll like it here, then,” the Pegasus said. “If I’m right in saying, you guys are looking for some fun, right?”

“Yeah!” Pilsner cried. For once, Caramel didn’t actually mind his friend’s enthusiasm. He wanted to know a little more about this strangely attractive place.

“Well I’ve got a couple of friends – two of them are working, but I’m pretty sure I could get at least another two, plus myself.”

Pilsner appeared crestfallen by the news. “Aw. You couldn’t find a third?”

“Oh! Yeah, of course, but she’s just a total shut in and a bookworm, so it'll take some effort.”

“Should go well for Caramel, then!” He glanced over at his honey coloured friend, a big grin on his face. Dash glanced between the two of them, and Caramel said nothing, trying his best not to appear too indignant.

“You two brothers or something?”

“They might as well be,” Lucky answered.

“Old friends,” Frederick added.

“He’s my brother from another mother,” Pilsner said, winking at Caramel.

Caramel smiled, but continued to say nothing. Freddie groaned.

Dash laughed again at the stupid expression.

“You know, just listening to you, I thought you were a total asshole, but you’re alright!” she exclaimed.

“Well, you’re not too bad yourself, for a crazy stalker,” replied Pilsner. The two then began to trot down the other side of the hill, all the while keeping up a steady conversation. Lucky followed quickly after, but Frederick and Caramel stayed a while, watching after the trio as they walked towards the town.

“Is it just me,” Caramel began, “or is she a lot like Pilsner?”

“It’s not just you,” Freddie said with a groan. “There's actually two of them. Celestia save us all.”

Not wanting to be left behind, they readjusted their saddlebags and cantered down the hill.