22. Yes, 22 ponies now inhabit Songring at its new location. I was thoroughly surprised when we had no new arrivals in the summer, but as it turns out, we also did not receive notice from the courier that season either. This happens to be because the two situations were related, as I have come to learn. Originally, there were seven additional ponies that were on their way to Songring for arrival in spring when we packed up and followed the Charmedsmile upstream. Upon arriving at the old Songring in midspring, they found it to be nothing but a ghost town. The group was mortified to find that what they had believed would be their new home was abandoned, and began to wonder if something might have happened to the settlers. A familiar, former resident of Songring organized a search party at that time. Spending the following three weeks scouting the area, the party of new settlers could find no trace of what might have caused the survivors of Songring to vanish as they had.

As it turns out, a courier was meant to be dispatched with them (specifically, the courier that brought back the news of where we were going to be moving our operation to), but it turns out that he fell ill and could not make the journey that season. Instead, they called in a replacement for him to make the deliveries. This is how I now know why they got so lost and could not locate us:

They sent Sugarlump to make the deliveries that season.

Bless her big cross-eyed head, she never even bothered to look through the mail, to perhaps get a clue of where we might have gone, and had already forgotten what our usual courier had told her of our plans. She was instead following the lead of a previous resident of Songring who was making a return and was just as shocked and worried when they found the original resting place of Songring in ruins with nobody there to greet them.

It was not until midsummer, when the courier regained his health and could make the trip, that he learned Sugarlump had never made it back to Canterlot with the return mail. There was some speculation that perhaps we simply did not respond, but he was certain that he knew what had happened. He located the seven settlers (and the blonde-maned pegasus) at the remnants of Songring's first attempt, and was able to instruct them on how to find us.

The Spring settlers arrived at the same time that the Autumn settlers did this month, so it was a boost of 12 total (though it was only meant to be five for this season). I remember rather clearly how it came to my attention that they had arrived as well. Unlike most new arrivals that have taken place since Dawnstar's internship began, where she will catalogue the new settlers in the little metal-bound booklet that I received from Pinkie at my welcoming party in Ponyville, I was greeted personally by the leader of both the traveling party and the search party that had been dispatched to find us.

“Prodder! You hairless little prick! Just who do you think you are? I have half a mind to cut you open right here and see if you really have a spine at all."

At the time, I was standing beside the wall that outlined Springfield’s farm, which Willow had finally gotten around to erecting . I was holding one of the baby tanks in my arms and trying to find her mother so I could return her after she had followed me into my office and curled up underneath my desk to sleep. (It was the calf that I had specifically saved: She has a discoloration over the plating that grew on her face of a large pink splotch amongst the dark navy scales around her left eye, so she is easy to identify. At that time, which was approximately four weeks after birth, she was the size of a medium dog, perhaps weighing thirty or forty pounds. I have named her Abeo.) Hearing the threat caused me to turn around slowly in mild terror and shock as I had no clue who was yelling at me, or what I had done. At first I did not recognize the pony that glared at me with fury in her eyes. She had a burgundy coat and a pointed horn upon her head, and was wearing a harness secured to her back below her muted beige mane. It was not until I had the thought, "A little chunky, isn't she," that I realized it was Daggersides. "What?" I finally asked her, unable to understand not only what she was doing here, but why she was contemplating attacking me.

"Don't "What?" me, you back-poking snake. I don't know what your problem is with me, but you better spill it fast and be ready to just get over it. So out with it: When did I piss in your porridge to make you so determined to ruin my life?"

"What?" I repeated mindlessly, still dumbfounded at the accusations being made. It was difficult for me to even come to grips with the fact that I was being spoken to by a specter: A memory that I thought was gone, as reason told me that Daggersides left the expedition back after the hurricane hit Songring in the Autumn of 1222.

"Try to say "what" one more time, Prodder. Give me that third strike so I have more reason to knock you out right here."

"Wh-" I stopped myself and immediately tried rephrasing my question as I pulled the tank calf closer to me and kept her head over my shoulder. She started to kick and squirm in fear from the loud shouts being directed at us. "Why are you shouting at me? I don't understand what I'm being accused of: Can you tell me why you think I am trying to ruin your life? Or perhaps can you explain why you're even here? Are you real, or am I having something like an out of body experience?" After a moment, I rested myself against the wooden wall and continued to stroke the calf on its bare neck, beneath the crown that shielded it. "Please, please tell me you're not my spirit guide or something. I was kind of hoping my guardian angel would be less..."

"Say it."

"..."

“Say it. I fuckin’ dare you to say it, Prodder!"

"Abusive?"

With a huff, she sat down and began explaining herself with one hoof raised to point at me accusingly. "Okay, fine, I'll give you a short list of why I'm pissed off and what you need to explain yourself for: Insulting my looks, insulting my capabilities as a hired blade, insulting my intelligence by playing dumb and thinking I don't know what you're up to, and best of all, slandering me by making me look like a lay about and a friggin' quitter. A girl has little other than her reputation, and you're trying to ruin that for me! How about we start with those?"

"Alright," I agreed, setting the tank calf down before she could claw my clothes open in her fear. Humorously to me, she did not flee, but instead pushed behind my legs and curled around them, scared of Daggersides. Poor little Abeo was just as startled as I was. "Well, how about I start with the one that I know something about: I apologize for saying you were not as fit as I expected mercenaries to be. That was at a difficult point for me when I said that, but I understand that does not excuse me being so rude. I'm sorry if I hurt your feelings."

"That's a start. What are you going to do to make up for that then?" she asked me with her legs folded in front of her.

I admitted, "I had no plans to. I figured my apology would be enough. What would you want as reparations? Perhaps then I will decide if I'm going to 'make up for it'."

"Well, you called me ugly, so-"

"I said you weren't fit, there's a difference."

"Whatever; I think it's only fair that you have to tell me I'm beautiful to make up for it."

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves here, Daggersides," I said, glancing away as I was hoping this silliness would end soon enough and we could get to the bottom of what really had her so upset. "Let's just move onto the other things you're mad at me about."

"Not until you tell me it, Benjamen."

"Really, I'm not comfortable with this."

"What's the matter then? You don't believe it? You don't think I'm a beautiful pony?"

"Okay, now that is a loaded question! That's not fair, so I refuse to answer it."

"No answer is still an answer, Prodder, and I know what that answer means."

"It means you should stop fishing for compliments, you fat bitch." Both of us stood there in stunned silence, and I expected Daggersides to absolutely fly off the handle. I couldn't believe what I had just heard, and was mostly relieved that it was not I who had blurted it out. Maple strolled up to my side with her axe slung over her shoulder having just returned from collecting some more wood for the dining hall project. "He already apologized, and that's a lot more than I would have given you." With that, Maple put her hoof on my head and rubbed it in my hair in what older brothers all over Terriel called a noogie. I gave a sigh of relief when she sat down next to me. I can only assume she was there to mediate our negotiation now. "Big bad mercenary getting her feelings hurt over a couple of words? If you're not going to look like one, at least act like one Daggersides."

I was certain a fight was about to break out and I was going to have to find a way to subdue one or both parties to avoid some sort of mortal injury (since they were both armed), but to my pleasant surprise, a woman's touch seems to work a bit differently. Daggersides glowered for a bit before giving a dismissive wave of her hoof at Maple as though she was not worth her time, and then regarded me again so we could continue productively. "Alright, fine, then what about the making me look bad?"

"I had no intention of doing so. What did I do exactly?"

"You told me we were quitting, that's what! You pretty much told me it's over and had me pack up with the thought of a job well done, but next thing I know I got turned down from my next job offer because I'm apparently a flight risk!" She stamped her hoof angrily at that statement. "Sir Bullion turned me down for a job protecting his caravans. When I asked him why, he said he couldn't trust me; that if I had abandoned Songring the way I had, there was no way he could believe I would actually get the job done. What the Nightmare was that for, Prodder? You've even turned one of the largest names in the mercantile business against me!"

"Oh," I submitted then, rubbing my arm as I tried to think of a way to appease her. "Well, that does seem to be mostly my fault then, huh? That was never my intention, I promise. It is merely that I could not give up on Songring. Those who had the most stock in it stayed, and I could not abandon them." I could only shrug to her afterwards. "I'm sorry that you got some backlash from that. I can speak with Sir Bullion this winter and clear your name for you, but that is the best I can do."

"That'll have to do then, and you better make me sound good if you know what's best for you."

"He'll do it because he feels it's the right thing to do," Maple interjected as she pushed forward from me and up to Daggerside's face, "Not because somepony with a 'tude problem is threatening him to do it. I don't care who you think you are, but you've got a few screws loose to think it's a good idea to come around here and threaten somepony else's leader."

"This is personal business anyways, you useless lush, so I don't care who answers to him. Are you supposed to be his cavalier in shining barding then? Sucks that the best he can get for a guardspony is just a pickled drunk."

"He doesn't need anypony defending him, but if we had to, I think we have plenty of ponies here who would be happy to string up a porker like you for laying a hoof on him. How about you head to the dining hall where you belong until Ben can sort things out with Sir Bullion, and then you can just eat your way back to Canterlot, or Candyland, or wherever you were spawned."

"Ladies! There's a child here!" I shouted, picking Abeo up once again and cradling the tank calf in my arms. "Control yourselves; you're setting a terrible example," I informed them as the creature chittered a bit uncomfortably and buried her face under my arm. "Look, I'll see you in my office later Daggersides so we can discuss this like civil adults. I am sorry for the inconvenience."

Daggersides accepted my answer and, with a spit at Maple, began walking away. Maple responded by picking up a rock and lifting it above her head in preparation to hurl it before I cleared my throat to get her attention.

"Just one, Ben. Just one and I'll let it go."

"Maple, really, there's been enough trouble. Drop the stone."

"C'mon, you know you want to see me bean her in the back of her head."

"What I want isn't the issue; we really need to just let this whole thing go. It's already gotten far out of hand."

"So you do want to see me hit her with it?"

"You're not a very good example for little Abeo here, you know that?"

"To Nightmare with that lizard! You know what? To Nightmare with you too for liking them so much." I had trouble telling if she was now playing with me, or if she was truly upset with my association with the tanks.

"What have you got against them, Maple?” I asked, holding Abeo out to her which made the youngling kick a bit as I held her underneath her front legs. “Look at this."

"Ew! Get that away from me, you sicko! You're as bad as Tag and Rag for liking those disgusting things," she said, swatting at Abeo with her hoof to try and make me pull her away.

"It's so adorable though! Look at her little pink splotch on her eye and tell me that such a face doesn't make you just go “Aw!”"

"You know what? It's a baby, I get it, but I bet you Willow was once a cute foal too. Look how much of a shit he turned out to be, huh? That thing may be cute now, but it will become a freaking monster. The fact that it's even alive is your fault too. You disgust me, Ben."

"I had to do what I had to do, Maple," I informed her as I set Abeo down once more and folded my arms indignantly. "It was an emergency, and there were two lives on the line. What would you have done?"

"Not gone that far past second base with a huge-ass lizard, you freak!"

"You think I wanted to do that!?" I shouted, raising my right hand up and holding it out to her as she backed away. "Do you think I wanted to take that plunge? Do you think I enjoyed what I did?"

"Get that thing away from me, Ben! I mean it! No!" she protested, backing up so that she was pinned against a tree as I marched at her with my hand outstretched.

“Look at it!!" I screamed, "Look at it and know my true pain! This is the hand! The hand which has gone where no man may have dared go before!”

Maple's shriek into the woods echoed, causing Abeo to skitter into the brush alone in search of her mother, and brought a few ponies charging to the rescue at the blood-curdling sound. Salmon, Springfield, and Willow broke through the tree line near us within a matter of half a minute, all breathing heavily as they tried to assess the situation. All they found, however, was Maple cowered against the tree with her eyes screwed shut and cringing away from my outstretched finger which was merely centimeters away from her nose.

As the three stallions simply stared at us, I was posed with a very difficult question: How the hell could I explain this?

"Okay, Benjamen," Springfield began slowly, obviously rather uncomfortable witnessing this, "You've got me. I don't have a damn clue what you two are up to."

"A bit of role-playing, Lad?" Salmon guessed, also clearing his throat with some discomfort at the situation. "Don't suppose you need a riveting narrator for this scene? I once was master of ceremonies for a rendition of Pipsqueak and the Wolf, so I can fill the role for you."

"Role-playing? Like a nerd?" Willow added cheekily, before looking to Maple who shot him a dirty glance. He stuttered out a backpedaling response: "N-not Maple though, she's just a really good actress is all. Yeah."

Realizing how silly it must look, Maple put her hoof in my outstretched hand so I could help her back up and pushed her way past everyone, simply stating that she had woken up from a bad dream and I was merely being weird and doing some human thing. That seemed to appease them enough that they began to walk away, except for Salmon who was rather disappointed that he was wrong. I got to explain the whole scenario to him later. I believe that may have been the point when Maple stopped being so repulsed by what I had done. She still does not come around me when I am seen toting Abeo, who is now my personal guard lizard: When I don't want to be bothered, I carry her into my office and set her on my desk to nap while I work.

As far as actual progress on the settlement is concerned, very little has been made so far. A dining hall is currently in the works, and I have moved the stockpiles into the safety of a new mountainside storeroom that has been hollowed out. Springfield's fields have been walled off, and he is getting a very bountiful return from them before winter entombs us here.

I believe the Honoring Mire must be a very nutrient-rich land, considering the very little difficulty we have had in maintaining a food supply merely from the crops. Midnight berries, strawberries, long grass, cloudyberries, and bladesweed happen to be the most common fare that we are getting. We have not been stuck with merely this, however. I am happy to announce that Springfield has also been working on a few forms of subterranean crops to help flesh out Songring's diet. At first I was uncomfortable with the thought of mushrooms being an addition, considering the dangers involved with them, but it seems Springfield knows his crops well enough to know what is and is not harmful. I find I enjoy them most when sauteed in a pan with some oil, but I usually end up just eating them baked or steamed, since I do not trust Teardrop to use oil for cooking (she would inevitably burn Songring to the ground with it).

Most of my autumn has been spent adjusting to the new ponies that arrived, including the two returning ponies Daggersides and Rabbitfoot. It was nice to see Rabbitfoot again, though we had never gotten the chance to get to know one another very well. He’s a dutiful sort, having come to me personally when he settled in to apologize for being absent from work. I found it endearing how nervous he was, possibly waiting for me to get upset at what he promised me was not just him playing hookey. I was hardly able to console him, as my comments only seemed to change his disposition from jittery and compliant to ill and alarmed (his speckled brown and tan fur nearly turning green) . “It’s quite alright, I had not known that we would be continuing until someone brought the importance of our success to my attention. It’s nice to see a familiar face again, but I’m afraid your talents as a leatherworker aren’t really needed right now. We have no hides for you to work, so are you okay with doing custodial and manual labor for a while?”

Looking like he might be sick from my insinuation, he gulped back and questioned me with the word, “Hides?” I nodded and let him know we had none yet, but I would alert him as soon as we had some that needed tanning. Horror highlighted his expression as he tried to inform me that he might not be suited for the position.

“Why not? Your resume listed you as having leather working experience. Did I misread it?”

“I’m not a butcher though!” he shouted back, close to hysterics. Before he could hyperventilate, I tried to calm him down to ask him how he expected to do his job without being able to tan hides. “I don’t use animals! What kind of maniac assumes that!?” This begged the question as to what he expected to use for his leather working then. “Cotton and flax! Coarse cotton fabric soaked in boiled flax seed oil makes a strong, waterproof material. It’s called leather because it’s like hide, not because it is!”

After we got that misunderstanding out of the way and I promised him we would avoid using actual skins in his craft, I showed him to his new room so he could lie down and recover from the shock. I suppose the choice of material makes sense: I have yet to see these ponies eat red meat, and even fish is considered a taboo amongst a majority of the culture. I guess I just never gave a second thought as to where they might be getting the skins to make leather, since I’ve seen some of this material used here before. I’ve even seen Rabbitfoot at work with it. Either way, all I accomplished was updating the list of misconceptions I represent for the residents of Equestria about humanity: We are all manic depressives, we beat and threaten children, we have no love for our fellow individual, and we are butchering maniacs.

Quite interestingly we now have a filly in Songring. Our newest miner, Riverscar, is the mother of a sweet little foal by the name of Hyacinth. Her mother is busy most of the day in the mines and hollowing out new rooms or storage space in the mountainside with Silence, so I have witnessed the young one ambling around in search of something to do. The first time we spoke, she had wandered into my office while I was going over Dawnstar's reports about the most recent settlers so I could take account of what new professions we had to work with, and what skills I might be able to utilize. I am afraid she is too short for me to see over my desk though, so she was sitting there for perhaps half an hour quietly waiting for me to pay her some attention before Dawnstar finally came in with a new schematic for me to look at and immediately rebuked me for ignoring the filly. When the small pony had my attention, I asked what she needed.

The poor thing was terrified of me, quaking as she was unsure how I would react to her question. Her large, wide-spaced, pink-tinted eyes hardly blinked when staring across the desk at me. The fright she showed might have just been due to fear of her unfamiliarity with my species, but perhaps she got the impression that my position of authority meant I was going to be a disciplinarian as well. "I just wanted to ask if there was any food I could have. I'm hungry, and mom is busy in the mines where I can't go..."

Stunned at the meekness in her request, I assured her that of course there was food she could have. Standing up from my chair, I advised Dawnstar to go ahead and leave the schematic on my desk and that I would be back shortly. "Come on, I'll show you where the food is kept so you'll know from now on." With that, she followed behind me very closely the whole way, almost bumping into my legs many times as I took her to the storeroom. Once we were there, I swung open the door for her and showed her which pile held the food. "You're free to have whatever you need, but you have to make sure to put the lid back on anything that you open. Okay?"

"Okay," she agreed compliantly, beginning to sift through the barrels as I watched with marked curiosity. As she dug through the storage, I took notice of her peculiar coloration. I could not tell if her dark pelt was deep purple or blue in the dimness of the storeroom. Her mane was straight: Left loose to hang down her neck and over one of her eyes, and sported a peculiar pattern of red, white and pink colors that created the effect of pearlescence. For being hungry, she appeared very reluctant to reach for anything, unhappy with the available choices. After a while, she came back to me with her head held low. "Mr, I don't know how to cook..."

"Oh, you're not in the mood for raw goods then, huh? Well, where's your father? I can relieve him from duty long enough to cook you something if you want."

She immediately shook her head to me and mumbled something that I had her repeat loud enough for me to hear it. "Dad told me to do this myself already. He doesn't want me to bother him while mom isn't around. I'll eat it raw... I just... maybe you could show me how to cook so I can do it myself?"

"What makes you think I can cook?" That was the only one of the questions that came to mind I felt comfortable asking her right then, uncertain of how I felt about this new information.

"Well... you're the pony everypony goes to for answers. I see all the grown-ups come to your office when they have problems or when they need you to tell them what to do, so I thought that maybe you could help me."

"I'm sorry," I started, kneeling down to bring myself closer to eye level with her, "but I don't think I can show you. I don't know how to cook well myself."

"Excuse me, Mr. Benjamen?" I was surprised by the familiar soft voice from behind me, having never heard her enter since I had forgotten to close the door. The frail aqua-colored pony shifted into view with a smile and motioned for my attention. "I can do it. I'll cook her something and show her how to make it. If that's alright with you."

I nodded, and motioned for Hyacinth to follow Teardrop. She did so happily, finally smiling at the knowledge that she would be taught how to cook for herself.

"Follow me, Sweetie. I'll teach you everything I know; it's not much, but it's enough to get you started."

When I returned to my office, I requested Dawnstar get me the name and description of Hyacinth's father so I could have a word with him. At the time, I was not angry, merely wished to make sure I was not improperly granting him the benefit of the doubt. Perhaps he was truly busy with an assignment I had given him or caught up in something too important to make his daughter a meal, but I felt I should check just in case.

"Een-oo-teel is his name, Mr. Prodder. Violet pony with a curly black mane."

"Een-oo-teel? How in the world do you spell that, Dawnstar?"

I-N-U-T-I-L-E.

As soon as I recognized the word, I could not help but start to snicker. While I hid my humored grin under my hand at the word, Dawnstar stared at me as though I made no sense and asked me what was so funny. I dismissed the question and instead asked, “What job does he perform? What is his profession?"

"Let's see here... unlisted."

"Pardon?"

"He never listed a profession. He has no profession. He is professionless. Do you need any further clarification, Mr. Prodder?"

She was not amused, but I sure as hell was. I started to chortle as I tilted back in my chair, clapping my hands at the sheer situational irony of the moment. If this was a cosmic joke, it was a damn fine one in my opinion. "Oh, that is just too perfect. A pony named In-yoo-til, and he happens to be without a talent."

"He has a talent, Mr. Prodder, just no listed profession. And it's pronounced Een-oo-teel."

"No, Dawnstar, he can spice it up in any way he wants, but that word is "In-yoo-til". Inutile. Now that’s funny."

"I fail to see the humor in you merely mispronouncing his name, Mr. Prodder."

"What? Look at it! His name is Inutile and he's without a vocation. You really don't get this? Bah, go get a dictionary and look it up, then you'll know why this is just too perfect." At that point, I left the office to go find this fellow Inutile and ask him a few questions. It turns out he was located over at the construction site of the new dining hall. I found him sitting next to my architect, Blueprint. Together they were discussing something I could not make out at that distance, but peculiarly, I kept hearing Blueprint giggle giddily every time Inutile would speak to her with what I could perceive to be a cheesy foreign accent. I could swear I heard it before in the form of a protagonist in a Neo-Old Western film about an Aguayian duelist saving damsels in distress from runaway trains. I stood behind them for quite a few minutes with neither of them realizing I was there before I cleared my throat and sat down between them.

"Oh! Uhm, Mr. Prodder! Hi, we were just, we were making sure that the construction was running smoothly," Blueprint stated quickly, pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose immediately when I looked at her. Nervous, huh?

"We? Oh, you and In-yoo-til here then? Well, I was rather curious what he was up to; apparently he did not finish his interview with Dawnstar, and I wanted to get the last couple of pieces of information from him myself." Once again, I watched her push the glasses up her face and adjust them.

"Well, of course sir. First, you must know that my name is said as Een-oo-teel."

"A rose by any other name, sir," I told him."

"Sorry?" he asked me.

"If you didn't get it the first time, you won't get it the next." I motioned for Blueprint to go check on the supports of the dining room, telling her the lie that I just had a bad feeling and would be more comfortable if she would check them one more time. Once she had left earshot, I turned back to Inutile. "So, no profession. Did you simply never get around to that question?"

"Ah, yes, well..." It was odd that he was already hard pressed to answer, but I could see him trying to find the best way to sugar coat it for me. "It is just that my talent would not be called a profession by most. So, I thought it was best not to give you false hope by saying something else. I do not enjoy the concept of lying to an employer."

"Uh huh," I nodded, looking at his flank to try to view his cutie mark. "So what is that talent then? It would be helpful to know so I can assign you proper work orders. I think we might have enough architects observing this construction project right now, and I could easily find a more useful place for you. Such as the kitchen, assisting your daughter with preparing her lunch."

I could see some indignation in his features: Evidence, to my surprise, that he was not as dumb as a sock full of stones. Though I did not try very hard to veil my insinuation, he went above and beyond my expectations by catching onto what I was trying to say. He did not mention it, however. "My talent is different from most. Just have a look." With that, he presented his cutie mark, which is in the form of a bright red heart pierced with an arrow.

"Please tell me that means you're a cardiologist," I groaned, already feeling my brow involuntarily turn inwards in distaste.

"It is my talent to get hearts pumping and blood flowing, yes, if that is what you wish to mean."

"It certainly is not what I mean, but thanks for clearing that up." I stood up and dusted myself off, knowing better than to stay here or I would say something regrettable. "Well, In-yoo-til, it has been eye-opening speaking with you."

"Please, it is Een-oo-teel."

"If it walks like a duck."

"Sorry?"

"If you didn't get it the second time, you won't get it the third." With that, I left him to his evening and headed back to my office, but had to stop when I heard Willow snickering to himself. I was compelled to step over and begin chortling with him, both of us repeating the name quietly amongst us, and I took some momentary joy that someone else finally got the joke. Only moments later did I suddenly look up with a perturbed glance at Willow. "Wait a minute... Why are you laughing? I know why it's funny, but there's no way you got it."

"What!? Of course I got it, Ben! You don't get why it's funny?"

"You know what, just tell me why you think it's funny, and I'll see if we line up."

"Dude, just say the name real slow and think about his 'talent'."

"Inutile? In-yoo-til.... In... You... 'Till... Oh geez; Willow!" With a sigh of exasperation, I shook my head and began walking away, Willow snorting and chuckling as he knew I realized what he found funny in the name. What has been heard cannot be unheard. Now each time I think of his name, I get that thought and it makes me frown involuntarily. I can't help it.

It was nice seeing Sugarlump again with the settlers that arrived. She had a couple of letters for me, which I was thankful for (though they were almost a season late). When she found me here, the first thing she did was run up to me so she could throw her legs around my shoulders in a close embrace and lick my face again. Before I could say hello or greet her to Songring, she was already telling me over and over how worried she had been and what all she had been through to find me: How much she had searched and called for me and how terrible it would have been if she had never gotten to see me again. It’s comforting to hear her voice and to know that she remembered me so well, even though it had now been almost three years since we last saw one another (well, a year and a half to me, but three Equestria years). She stayed in Songring for an extra day to enjoy a few comforts like cooked food and a warm bed to sleep in (mine, which I lent her while I slept at my desk so she would be well rested to fly back to Ponyville), but it seemed she wanted to stay here with us. I told her that this was no place for her and that she had friends and ponies that would miss seeing her in Ponyville.

"Does that mean you're not sad that you don't get to see me?"

That question was hard on me, as I realized that I did miss seeing her each day. It made me miss Rarity's voice and the scent of her boutique. It made me miss Applejack's laugh and the feel of aged papers between leather covers in Twilight's library back in Ponyville. It made me miss the simple life quite a bit. I told her that it was not that I would not miss her, only that I was a single person who would miss her compared to the many who would if she stayed here with us. She accepted that and questioned when I would come back, which I could not answer.

"Well, you promised."

I did promise and I will keep it. Eventually.