GREEN
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3490 20.94 KB 440
3490 20.94 KB 440
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>It had been weeks since the timber wolf attack, but Anon's days were still filled with work.
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>The inviting scent of cedar and oak filled the workshop, while the sharp whine of his chisel echoed, and sawdust settled on his feathers.
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>Yet, in the midst of each task, something had quietly shifted. The rhythm of his days became steadier.
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>He found solace in this newfound balance, as calmness replaced the isolation he once endured.
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>It felt as though he had finally tapped into something larger than himself, leaving a quiet satisfaction in his heart long after the workday was done.
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>As dusk settled in and the hustle of the day faded into tranquility, he took a stroll along the well-trodden path from Ponyville to the tranquil depths of the Everfree Forest.
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>Each step away from the village felt light and effortless, akin to breathing. The warm glow of Ponyville's lights gradually dimmed behind him.
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>Though he often said he was just out for a walk or to collect wood for his workshop, he always found himself paying a visit to a certain Zebra.
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>On one visit, she brewed tea from fresh wild mint and tree bark, pouring it into two mismatched cups and inviting him to sit outside her hut as twilight deepened.
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>The steam danced in the cool air, and the gentle hum of the forest wrapped around them. She spoke softly, her words slipping into a natural rhyme.
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"Most ponies flee when darkness falls,
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But calm, I find, will ease your thralls."
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>He chuckled while taking a sip of his tea, glancing at her curiously.
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"Is that so?"
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>he replied.
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"Fear," she said, "cannot bind those who listen."
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>Not knowing how to respond, he simply chose to listen.
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>On another evening with Zecora, following the same soothing tea ritual, she led him through the trees into a grove where fireflies shimmered like stars.
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>Handing him a knife, she gestured toward a fallen branch.
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"Craft what your heart recalls."
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>He carved a wooden lotus; though imperfect, it was sincere.
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>Zecora placed it gently on the pond, whispering words he couldn't quite catch. The image of it glowing on the water lingered in his mind.
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>The tranquility of those evenings remained with him, the essence of the forest enveloping him, while the light from his window danced among the trees, reflecting the serene glow.
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>He hunched over a small wooden apple cart in his workshop, the scent of polished wood and varnish filling the air. >The cart, with its rolling wheels, held a bed of tiny, vibrantly painted apples, a heartfelt gift for Apple Bloom, commissioned by her sister.
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"All right, just one more coat, and it'll be done,"
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>He muttered to himself.
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>It had been weeks since the timber wolf attack, but Anon's days were still filled with work.
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34.
>The inviting scent of cedar and oak filled the workshop, while the sharp whine of his chisel echoed, and sawdust settled on his feathers.
-
35.
>Yet, in the midst of each task, something had quietly shifted. The rhythm of his days became steadier.
-
36.
>He found solace in this newfound balance, as calmness replaced the isolation he once endured.
-
37.
>It felt as though he had finally tapped into something larger than himself, leaving a quiet satisfaction in his heart long after the workday was done.
-
38.
>As dusk settled in and the hustle of the day faded into tranquility, he took a stroll along the well-trodden path from Ponyville to the tranquil depths of the Everfree Forest.
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39.
>Each step away from the village felt light and effortless, akin to breathing. The warm glow of Ponyville's lights gradually dimmed behind him.
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40.
>Though he often said he was just out for a walk or to collect wood for his workshop, he always found himself paying a visit to a certain Zebra.
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41.
>On one visit, she brewed tea from fresh wild mint and tree bark, pouring it into two mismatched cups and inviting him to sit outside her hut as twilight deepened.
-
42.
>The steam danced in the cool air, and the gentle hum of the forest wrapped around them. She spoke softly, her words slipping into a natural rhyme.
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43.
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"Most ponies flee when darkness falls,
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But calm, I find, will ease your thralls."
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>He chuckled while taking a sip of his tea, glancing at her curiously.
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"Is that so?"
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>he replied.
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"Fear," she said, "cannot bind those who listen."
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51.
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>Not knowing how to respond, he simply chose to listen.
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53.
>On another evening with Zecora, following the same soothing tea ritual, she led him through the trees into a grove where fireflies shimmered like stars.
-
54.
>Handing him a knife, she gestured toward a fallen branch.
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"Craft what your heart recalls."
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>He carved a wooden lotus; though imperfect, it was sincere.
-
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>Zecora placed it gently on the pond, whispering words he couldn't quite catch. The image of it glowing on the water lingered in his mind.
-
58.
>The tranquility of those evenings remained with him, the essence of the forest enveloping him, while the light from his window danced among the trees, reflecting the serene glow.
-
59.
>He hunched over a small wooden apple cart in his workshop, the scent of polished wood and varnish filling the air. >The cart, with its rolling wheels, held a bed of tiny, vibrantly painted apples, a heartfelt gift for Apple Bloom, commissioned by her sister.
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"All right, just one more coat, and it'll be done,"
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>He muttered to himself.
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>As he glanced at the clock, he noticed the hand creeping toward three, causing him to quicken his pace.
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>If he hurried, he could wrap up the cart, deliver it, and still reach the forest before sunset.
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>Dipping his brush into the glossy varnish, he spread it over the wheels, the familiar scent rising like a comforting hug.
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>His wings fluttered slightly as he focused on avoiding any flaws in his work.
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>The shop was a tranquil retreat, filled only with the ticking of the clock and the soft rasp of bristles against wood.
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>It felt almost serene.
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>Almost.
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>Just as he reached for the varnish brush again, the cheerful bell above the door chimed, breaking the stillness.
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"I'm closed,"
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>he said, barely paying attention.
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"Hopefully not to friends, Non-non!"
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>Anon froze mid-motion.
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"...Pinkie."
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>Her voice sparkled with the brightness of sunshine and sugar, as always. But she was speaking too quickly, her bubbly cheer masking an underlying worry.
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>It was evident that she had something on her mind that was difficult for her to express..
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>She bounced inside, her eyes scanning the room before settling on him.
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"You're still here! I thought maybe you'd already headed out, and then I'd have to hunt you down, which would turn into a workout, and then I'd need cupcakes to recover, and..."
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"Pinks..."
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>he gently interrupted, raising an eyebrow.
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"Take a breath."
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>She exaggeratedly gasped, holding her breath before puffing her cheeks and exhaling in one dramatic burst.
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"Better?"
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>He couldn't help but smile softly.
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"What brings you, Pinks?"
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"Oh, just checking in on you! I wanted to make sure you’re not working too hard or skipping snacks or… getting lost in the woods again."
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"I'm fine,"
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>he replied with a steady voice.
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"Just wrapping something up for Applejack."
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>Her gaze followed his hoof to the small, wrapped parcel.
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“For Applejack?”
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"For Apple Bloom. It's a birthday gift."
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>Pinkie's grin seemed to brighten the room, almost too wide.
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"Aw! That's so sweet! Always thinking of everypony!"
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>She leaned in, lowering her voice conspiratorially.
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"Even someponies in the forest?"
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"Even someponies in the forest?"
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>Anon blinked in surprise.
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"You mean Zecora?"
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>Pinkie giggled quickly.
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"Oooh, you said it, not me!"
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>He gave her a flat look, which soon softened into a sigh.
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"Pinkie…"
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>She flinched slightly at his tone but bounced back with another grin.
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"Sooo… you heading to the forest after this?"
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"Planning to."
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"Then I'll come with you!"
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> She declared suddenly.
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"Not to the forest, yuck, mosquitoes, but to Sweet Apple Acres! Two deliveries are better than one! Teamwork makes the dream work!"
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>Anon frowned a little.
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"You really don't have to..."
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"I want to!"
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> She interrupted enthusiastically.
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"I haven't said hi to Applejack all day, and besides, the road is always nicer with company!"
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>He hesitated for a moment, then shrugged.
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"All right."
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>They left for Sweet Apple Acres, the faint scent of ripe apples as their destination loomed ever closer.
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>Pinkie was buzzing with excitement, sharing her latest ideas for Applebloom's birthday. However, Anon noticed her enthusiasm wane whenever he cast a glance at the mysterious forest.
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“You're really looking forward to going into the Everfree Forest, huh?”
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>Pinkie asked softly, her usual cheer fading.
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“I like the forest,”
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>he replied calmly.
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“It reminds me of home.”
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>As they neared the orchard, they spotted Applejack stacking barrels beside the barn.
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>She looked up and beamed when she saw them.
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“Well, look who decided to drop by! I didn’t expect to see both of you here today.”
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“Delivery duo!”
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>Pinkie exclaimed, bouncing forward and presenting the parcel.
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“A special birthday surprise for Apple Bloom!”
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>Applejack took the gift, her eyes softening as she examined it in her hooves.
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“Well, isn’t this just lovely? She’s going to adore it, Anon. You even nailed the details with the apples.”
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>Anon nodded in agreement.
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“Did my best,”
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>he replied modestly.
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“Always do,”
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>Applejack said with a warm smile, tucking the parcel under one leg.
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“Thank you kindly.”
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>Pinkie shifted excitedly on her hooves, her smile broad yet a bit jittery.
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"We worked hard! I mean, he worked hard! I helped by... uh, moral support!"
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>Applejack chuckled.
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"Sure thing, sugarcube."
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>As Anon turned to leave, Applejack's gaze rested a moment longer on Pinkie.
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>She noticed Pinkie fiddling with the edge of her mane, the smile briefly dancing on her lips before fading.
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>Applejack caught the small sigh Pinkie tried to hide; it was as if she wished to stretch out the moment just a bit longer.
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"Are you two heading back together?"
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>Applejack asked casually.
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"Actually,"
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>Pinkie replied quickly,
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"Anon's going to visit Zecora".
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>Applejack raised an eyebrow but chose her words carefully.
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"Is that so?"
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Anon nodded, adjusting his saddlebag.
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"She's supposed to show me something tonight."
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"Well, ain't that nice,"
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>Applejack said, glancing between the two.
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"Good to see you making time for friends, sugarcube."
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>Pinkie's ears perked up.
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"He is! He's been really… social lately!"
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"Mm."
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>Applejack wore a knowing smirk.
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"So I've heard."
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Oblivious, Anon chimed in, "I should get going if I want to make it before dark."
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>Applejack nodded, a warm glint in her eye.
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"You go on ahead, sugarcube. Just keep an ear out for those pesky timberwolves, y'hear?"
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>She teased lightly.
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>He rolled his eyes but gave a slight grin before heading down the winding dirt road toward the treeline.
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>As he disappeared into the distance, Applejack leaned against a nearby barrel, noticing the unease on Pinkie Pie's face.
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“Pinkie,”
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> She said softly,
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“You alright?”
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“Me? Absolutely! Why wouldn’t I be?”
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>Pinkie replied, her cheeriness lacking its usual vibrancy. Applejack offered a slight smile.
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“No reason, just thought your mind was racing ahead of your words for once.”
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>Pinkie let out a nervous laugh, trying to dismiss her feelings.
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“That’s just silly! My mouth always takes the lead!”
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> She insisted, though her eyes revealed uncertainty.
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“Welp, if you ever want to chat, I’m just a holler away.”
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>Applejack replied gently, her tone encouraging.
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> Pinkie blinked in surprise.
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“Huh?”
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>“Never mind,”
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Applejack said, tipping her hat.
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“You take care now, sugarcube.”
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>Pinkie lingered for a moment before turning resolutely back toward town. Applejack watched her go, shaking her head with a hint of sadness.
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“Bless her heart,”
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>She murmured.
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“Some things even a party can’t fix.”
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>The path through the Everfree was darker than usual. Clouds had gathered low, swallowing the evening light. Only the faint glow of the lantern swinging from Anon's saddlebag guided his way.
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>The forest hummed with its quiet symphony: the steady drone of cicadas, the creak of branches, the distant splash of a stream. And every so often, a patch of blue mushrooms glimmered faintly, lighting the edges of his path like fallen stars.
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>Even after visiting the forest dozens of times, it always felt as if something new.
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>By the time he reached the clearing, the first fireflies had already appeared, winking lazily in the air.
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>Zecora's hut sat just as it always did, smoke from her chimney rising in a thin spiral that vanished into the dark. But there was something different about it tonight.
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>The windows glowed warmer, as if the light itself had been tinted by thought.
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>Anon knocked once.
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"Enter,"
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>came her voice curling through the door like a rhyme half-sung.
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>He pushed it open.
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>The scent hit him first: something herbal, sweet, and sharp. The table had already been set with two cups, a steaming pot, and a plate of thin biscuits he'd learned never to ask the ingredients of.
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good timing, I see,"
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>She said without turning.
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"I thought perhaps you'd forgotten me."
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"Wouldn't dare,"
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>Anon said, unshouldering his bag and taking his usual seat.
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>Zecora smiled faintly over her shoulder.
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“One learns not to trust words of charm until they come with work-worn arms.”
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>He chuckled.
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“You and your rhymes.”
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“They keep me honest,”
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>she said, setting the pot down.
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“Tea?”
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“Please.”
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>He replied, with a smile tugging at his lips.
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>The room was filled with a comfortable silence as they savored their drinks, enjoying their familiar ritual.
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>Anon leaned back, his wings partially unfurled, a tired sigh escaping his lips.
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“What a long day it’s been. I nearly let this moment slip away.”
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“Apple Bloom’s toy?”
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>He blinked.
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“How’d you know?”
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>A smile formed on Zecora's face.
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“The forest speaks of many things. The wind will tell, when ponies sing.”
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“Right. Sure,”
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>He replied with a chuckle.
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“So, the wind is your personal gossiper?”
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> Her laughter didn’t follow. Instead, her gaze held a piercing quality, as if she could see into his very soul.
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“And what stories might it weave about you, I wonder?”
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>Anon hesitated, caught off guard by her tone.
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“Me? Probably that I work too much and don’t sleep enough.”
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“Perhaps,”
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>she murmured.
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“Or that your silence hides a storm.”
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>He smiled awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Guess that depends on who you ask.”
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>Zecora looked down at her cup. The silence between them thickened.
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>The warmth from the fire seemed to lean toward her, the shadows pressing closer. Her voice, when she spoke again, was softer than he’d ever heard it.
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“I must admit, you’ve grown to be... more than I first believed.”
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>He tilted his head.
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“What do you mean?”
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“When you came, you ignored the sound; each step you took avoided what’s around.
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But now you walk with steady grace, as if this were now your place.”
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>He smiled at that.
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“Guess I had a good teacher.”
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>Her lips curved faintly.
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“Flattery is a poor disguise for truth.”
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“I wasn’t trying to hide anything.”
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“No?”
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>Her gaze flicked up, sharp and unreadable.
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“Then what do you hide?”
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>He opened his mouth, then stopped.
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“I’m... not really sure.”
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>That made her smile faintly, feeling both knowing and a little sad.
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“Few ever are.”
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>They drank more tea. The warmth of it spread slowly and heavily through his chest, fogging the edges of thought.
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>The light dimmed as the candles burned lower. Outside, the wind had gone still.
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>Anon leaned forward, resting his forelegs on the table.
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“You seem... quieter than usual tonight.”
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>Zecora’s hoof traced the rim of her cup.
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“Do I?”
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“Yeah. Usually, you’re teasing me by now.”
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>Her smile flickered.
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“Some teases hide beneath their rhyme.”
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>He frowned slightly, not catching the meaning.
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“That sounds like a riddle.”
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>She nodded once.
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“Perhaps it is.”
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>He gave a small laugh, shaking his head.
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“You mentioned you had something special to share with me. Sooo.. what’s the surprise?”
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>Zecora looked at him for a long moment, then gave a faint smile.
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“Indeed, I did. But it is something not visible, yet felt deep within.”
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>Anon blinked.
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“...Another riddle?”
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>Her eyes softened.
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“Yes. What I wish to show you, Anon, cannot be grasped or held, only understood.”
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>He tilted his head, confused but intrigued.
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“All right. Let’s hear it, then.”
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>Zecora set down her cup. When she spoke, her voice fell into the cadence of something sacred.
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“What blooms in silence, yet burns with fire,
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No breath can hush, no heart will tire.
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It chains the wild, yet breaks all bars,
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Unseen by eyes, but felt in stars.”
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>Anon blinked.
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“...You’re definitely not talking about tea.”
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>Zecora Chuckled.
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“No. Not tea.”
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>He leaned back, scratching his mane.
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“Okay. So...something that grows in silence but burns... that’s a metaphor.”
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“Most truths are.”
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“Right, right.”
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>He frowned, thinking aloud.
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“Could be...hope? Or maybe...light? Fire?”
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>Zecora tilted her head.
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“And which of those burns without leaving ash?”
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“Fire that doesn’t burn?”
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>He groaned, rubbing his face.
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“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”
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>Her smile widened, the faintest glimmer of amusement.
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“You make it Fun.”
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“All right, then. Something that breaks but is unseen...maybe...company?”
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>Her gaze softened.
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“Colder.”
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>Anon sighed, slumping a little.
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“Well, I'm out of ideas.”
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>Zecora said nothing. She only watched him, her eyes unreadable.
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>Finally, she set down her cup, the sound barely audible over the crackle of the fire.
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“Some riddles,”
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> She said,
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"They are not meant to be solved with words.”
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>He frowned.
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“Then what?”
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>Zecora rose.
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>Her movements carried a quiet gravity, like a tide pulling in.
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> Anon’s breath caught. The hut felt smaller now, the air thicker, as though the forest itself had drawn closer to listen.
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>She stepped toward him, and each hoof-fall seemed to echo longer than it should.
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>The faint scent of sandalwood and lavender from her mane reached him first, stirring something confusing in his chest.
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>When she stopped in front of him, there was only a hand’s breadth between them.
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“Anon,”
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> She said softly,
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“You see much, but understand little.”
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>Her voice wasn’t teasing this time but warm, threaded with something that made his feathers twitch.
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>He tried to meet her gaze, but her eyes held him fast, bright and searching.
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>He swallowed.
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“Was that... an insult?”
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>Her head tilted, the corners of her mouth lifting ever so slightly.
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“A truth,”
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>She murmured.
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>Then, after a breath that seemed to stretch forever:
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“And a mercy.”
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>The words lingered, hanging between them like a delicate thread. He meant to reply, but the thought dissolved somewhere between her breath and his own.
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>He became aware of everything all at once: the pulse in his throat, the warmth of the fire behind him, the faint sound of her breathing.
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>Her eyes flicked just once to his mouth.
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>That was all the warning he got.
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>It wasn’t a long kiss, just brief, almost reverent, but the warmth of it lingered far longer than expected.
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>Anon froze. His feathers flared slightly, and for the first time, he didn’t know what to do with his hooves.
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>When she drew back, her expression was calm, but her eyes gave her away. Something unguarded shimmered there, raw and frighteningly sincere.
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403.
“Zecora,”
-
404.
>he said slowly,
-
405.
“Was that....?”
-
406.
>She smiled faintly.
-
407.
“An answer, perhaps.”
-
408.
>He blinked, still processing.
-
409.
“To the riddle?”
-
410.
-
411.
“If you wish.”
-
412.
>He frowned, trying to connect the dots.
-
413.
“So... the answer was... affection?”
-
414.
>Zecora’s laughter was soft, almost sad.
-
415.
“So close, and yet so far.”
-
416.
>He tilted his head, genuinely puzzled.
-
417.
“You’re gonna have to write that one down for me.”
-
418.
“Perhaps another time,”
-
419.
>she said, turning toward the window. The moonlight crept through the trees, silvering her stripes.
-
420.
“You should go, before the night thickens, for there the truth beneath you quickens.”
-
421.
-
422.
“Right... Yeah.”
-
423.
>He stood awkwardly, still half-lost in the fog of confusion.
-
424.
“Thanks for the... uh...tea. And the... riddle.”
-
425.
>Her back was to him, but he could faintly see the smile forming.
-
426.
“You’re welcome, Anon.”
-
427.
>He hesitated at the door, his heart doing an unfamiliar thing.
-
428.
“I...guess I’ll see you tomorrow?”
-
429.
-
430.
“If the forest wills it,”
-
431.
>she said softly.
-
432.
>He nodded, unsure why that felt like a promise.
-
433.
>Outside, the night air was cool against his fur. The faint taste of her tea still clung to him as he walked beneath the whispering trees.
-
434.
>Behind him, Zecora stood in the doorway, eyes following him until he vanished into the dark.
-
435.
>She murmured under her breath, barely more than a sigh:
-
436.
“He walks with light, yet cannot see, that feeling found him...silently.”
-
437.
>Anon sneezed as a firefly flew too close to his nose.
-
438.
-
439.
“....Huh. Must’ve been the tea,”
-
440.
>he muttered and kept walking.
by The_N.W.F
by The_N.W.F