It should be safe to state that everything went much better than expected.

I might as well take a moment to look back and laugh at myself for the way I was acting last week. To think that I was getting myself worked up over something so simple. I suppose it has always been a habit for me to make a fool of myself, something I have done many times already since my arrival here. I should find it comforting that such a thing has not changed about me since leaving home, even though I might wish to come off as more of a savant and scholar. Live and learn is the only thing I can think to justify it.

I did attend the gathering last week as I had promised Pinkie I would. I showed up in my more formal suit after much debate with myself over it, but I might have misjudged. Rarity had commented how nice I looked when I was escorting her through Ponyville personally, but everyone there had a short laugh at me when they said I looked like I was ready for a Canterlot dinner party. (I have no idea what that is supposed to mean, but I gave a courtesy laugh.) It turns out that this gathering is an occurrence that comes about roughly once or twice a month when this group of friends meets with one another to catch up on all that might have happened in the previous weeks. Though they spend plenty of time with one another away from this event, Pinkie let me know that sometimes it was just nice to get to see everyone at once when none of them were busy with any projects, work, or responsibilities. When I asked why exactly I was invited and confided that I was afraid I might intrude upon their together-time, she simply giggled at my worry and told me, "I don't just have five friends, Benjy! Friends are the best thing to have: They're like having cake and getting to eat it again and again! You can never have too much or too many. The reason I invited you was because you already knew everypony here, and you get really, really nervous around new ponies. Last time I tried to show you to more of my friends here, you ran away and didn't come back. You're not nervous right now are you?" I was, but not for the reason she was thinking. Her answer struck me as hedonistic, but strangely insightful. Perhaps she is not as bubble-headed as I had begun to believe her to be.

The night in question was labeled by them as a "game night". Considering I had yet to see a single monitor and did not have access to the Stratus or a local connection to other CCMI's in the area (since I'm the only one with one installed anywhere around here), I had wondered exactly what kind of games they were talking about. They are ill-equipped to start up any titles I might be familiar with on the Stratus like Strifecraft or Call To Arms 4, but things made more sense when I saw a short and wide colorful box opened to remove a very flat wooden board covered in designs and words, along with a pair of dice. They were referring to board games. To be honest, the antiquity of the object astounded me at first, as I had never actually seen one of these games played. We on Terriel see these objects as little more than conversation pieces or collectors' items since industry refuses to make them when virtual content is so much more easily distributed and marketed. It was embarrassing when they called me over and asked me to pick a piece to represent myself with, and I had to inform them that I had no idea how to play.

The game is called Slides and Stairs. I must first admit that I absolutely detest this terrible little game now. The stategy (or lack there of) consists of rolling a dice to move your piece across the number of spaces indicated. If you happen to land on a slide, you get to advance ahead to a further point on the board. If you land on a space with stairs, you must backtrack to an earlier point. The only goal is to reach the end of the board before the other players. It takes no skill! It makes me feel like I'm undergoing a psychological experiment that tests my compliance. (Also, somehow I kept ending up back at the start of the board every four turns!)

Sensing my frustration with it, Twilight offered that perhaps I would be more interested in a game of Chess. I at least have played virtual versions of that game, so she was happy to retrieve it for us. I did very poorly nonetheless and had to keep getting instructed on how to play because all of the pawns, rooks, bishops, kings, and queens on the board looked exactly the same to me. I believe I lost in roughly ten moves. I have heard of tournament players winning in far less moves than that, but I did not put up even a relative challenge to Twilight when we tried for two-out-of-three (then three-out-of-five). The others around us would occasionally come back to see how it was going throughout the hour while I was beating my head against a figurative wall of strategic advantage. I began to wonder if she felt like she was playing with a child after a while as she was very quick to compliment me and offer a good sense of sportsmanship after each match. I would call her a ruthless tactician: A kind smile on front, but she spares no one on the battlefield. (She cleared out every one of my pieces on our third game. I only took two of her pawns and a rook.)

To keep me from getting too discouraged, Applejack finally suggested that maybe a card game would be a bit better for us all. I was able to sigh in relief when I saw that the cards, though having different pictures on them, still made relative sense to me in their numbering. These were close enough to playing cards I recognized that I could manage through some more common game types. Pinkie insisted we play Go-Fish, so we all accepted her wish and did a round or so before Rainbow stated she was more interested in a higher-stakes game. Appleloosa Hold'em is the name of the game she suggested, some off-shoot of poker that I had trouble understanding at first. To up the ante, everyone pitched in a couple of bits and bought a few pounds of candy to evenly distribute amongst the players, since I was uncomfortable gambling away what little money I finally have come into possession of. The game lasted for awhile, but I was focused more on listening to the banter between them and interjecting a few quips after I had been eliminated from play. I suppose going all-in on a 3 and a 5 off-suit was not my brightest idea, but I am also not sure that I trust Rainbow Dash's winning hand that time around. I am not saying she cheated necessarily, but I just get the hunch that there were more than 4 aces on that table by the end of the hand. Fluttershy asked if I wanted to play in her place since she folded most turns anyway, but I declined. I enjoyed listening to others compare wits with one another too much to bother pairing up against them myself.

I left the game night smiling, something that is rather uncommon to me. I do not consider myself to be an unhappy person, but I rarely ever go walking around with a dumb grin plastered across my face. I used to be told that I looked angry quite often, especially when I was lost in thought, so to feel the corners of my lips turned up for that long was certainly a foreign sensation. I would call it a treat. It feels nice to have a reason to smile for a while even as I think this to myself. Rarity was speaking to me on the way back to the boutique, but I'm afraid that I only listened enough to nod and offer a question occasionally so she felt I was paying attention.

This last week has been riddled with other offers for my attention, all of which I have been doing my best to accept and adhere to. I was invited to dinner with the Apple Family one evening, which was rather pleasant to be a part of. Pinkie brought me with her one day on what she called a 'walk', but it felt more like playing a good-will dispenser the whole time. I may never be able to understand exactly how she can be cheery so often and remember so much detail about every individual she runs across. I can barely remember a name before I meet someone three or four times. Rainbow Dash invited me to join her in some practices she was doing to get ready for some sort of try-outs happening in the near future. (It sounded almost like she was going to become a superhero of some sort, something called a Wonderbolt.) I am not particularly athletic, but she appreciated some of my suggestions on what I could see to be minor hindrances to her speed and mobility. I have spent a fair bit of time with Rarity recently at the boutique, and am less likely to simply retreat back to the guest room like it was a sanctuary. She says she has plans for a wardrobe for me, but it will have to wait until I can afford that much of her services: I've already accepted more from her than I feel comfortable with. It’s also worth noting that her pelt has almost faded back to it’s proper snow-white color. I am also supposed to go meet with Zecora soon to apologize and try visiting again over tea, but I told Twilight I could make no promises should I be rhymed at too much more.

I am glad that all this has been happening, as it has done well to keep me calm after a bit of unsettling news I received: Yet another letter from the same anonymous sender:

"Human,

You have seen it appropriate to ignore my offer and my demands. This is a foolhardy mistake, but your choice has been made.

Expect your time in Ponyville to be short.

~Dog-Ears-Pink."

It is short and vague, something that discomforts me even more than the threat itself. It leads me to believe that perhaps the sender is quick to action or just plain stupid, both which bode badly for me as I have no idea what they are truly planning. It scares me a bit. I tried to get more information on it, but anyone I brought up the name with merely asked if that was one of the colors of those crayons the foals play with. Rarity had only a little more insight: She became rigid and anxious when I asked. She wanted to know if I had perhaps met with something she called a Diamond Dog, but I had to tell her no. To settle her mind, I never mentioned the content of the letter or that I had received anything at all, but it lets me know that I might be dealing with something far more dangerous than I would imagine.

In retaliatory action, I found the Crusaders again and asked if I could have the grapple-hook crossbow they constructed a while back. With a bit of knowledge from Twilight (whom I lied to and said I was just looking to do some recreational archery), I was able to modify it to be more like a standard crossbow. I inserted a wooden nut into the stock for use to crank back the drawstring, with a linchpin in place to hold it that is yanked free by the trigger below the stock. Knapping a few rocks one evening, I was able to whittle up a primitive arrowhead to append to the bolts I would be using as ammunition. Test firings show that I can accurately hit a human-width target from roughly fifteen yards away, but anything further becomes too iffy to rely on. It's crude, but certainly better than expecting my fists or my wit to save me (or worse, expecting my fists to help me protect my friends here). The way Rarity tensed when she spoke of those creatures leads me to believe that maybe I am not the only one to be worried. I will do all that is in my power to make sure nothing befalls them.

I'll be waiting for you to make your move, Dog-Ears-Pink.