Mar 2021


                                            Pretty mare, pretty mare

                                            One who hops, devil-may-care

                                            One whose breath I gladly share

                                            While I sleep, how do you fare?


                                            Pretty mare, petty mare

                                            My smile widens just a hair

                                            A rousing kiss, a horse so fair

                                            Soft, with tickly whiskers there


                                            Mornings do I feel despair

                                            My cupboard lay plain and bare

                                            Lyra, my oats, will you forswear?

                                            Pretty mare, pretty mare


                                            ____


                                            Anonymous 03/16/21(Tue)17:23:10 No.36729117

                                            >Bird Ponies are behind schedule to no one's surprise.

                                            >You pull your collar up over your mint colored fur scarf.

                                            >Those cloud trotters better hurry up.

                                            >If your everything weren't so sore, you'd start yelling and chucking garbage at them.

                                            >Lazy niggers.

                                            >The rest of the town is taking it easy after a job well done despite the lingering chill.

                                            >You included.

                                            >Upon seeing how well you helped Lyra shed her coat, their Earth pony leader whisked you away from your spot in front of the fireplace.

                                            >You had kicked and reee’d at the dirt ponies.

                                            >They explained the holiday to you, that ponies wanted to be out here shoveling a village's worth of snow and being hitched to plows.

                                            >You didn’t buy it.

                                            >Snoots scrunched when you kept calling their holiday "horse gulag."

                                            >A special vest was thrown on you, purple with a little brush patch crudely stitched in.

                                            >Your job on horse gulag was pony coat grooming.

                                            >As it turns out just like nature itself, pony winter coats don't fall out naturally like they do on God's green Earth.

                                            >It was an entire week of wiggly horse lips, nickering, and ponies trying to turn around to groom you back.

                                            >Tough work, but someone had to do it.

                                            >On the plus side, Some of the townsfolk that were skittish around you are now much friendlier.

                                            >Some had even left you flowers, apples, and carrots as thanks, which Lyra took a big liking to.

                                            >Not to mention you have enough loose pony fur to make an entire wardrobe for next winter.

                                            >Lyra herself was on animal duty again.

                                            >It's a running joke that, to the ponies, your own gestures are so animal-like, ponies naturally assume she is great with them.

                                            >But you know she's got a big soft spot for nature.


                                            >Which brings you to the present.

                                            >Both of you decide to leisurely stroll through White Tail instead of the usual galavant troublemaking.

                                            >Lyra seems to be fine in the cold without her winter coat, being from a mountain.

                                            >Though you know she's going to pretend later to get cuddles.

                                            >Overall she seems pretty fatigued too, going without the usual pep in her trotting.

                                            >Her eyes, nose, and a stray poking tongue, check out some of the grass sprouts coming in.

                                            >Ears swivel to the first bird sounds heard in months.

                                            >Your eyes and ears however, are on her sleeker form and the rhythmic sound of her hooves.

                                            >Here's something to be said about a unicorns gait.

                                            >Even tired, the way she trots is calculated, nimble.

                                            >Very unlike the yokel hick ponies around here.

                                            >Her posture both seems rigid, and square, yet both relaxed with a graceful rhythm of motion only a trained dancer could achieve.

                                            >Her head is tilted slightly up, something only seen in Canterlot.

                                            >To the average lowland pony it seems snobbish, even to the locally raised unicorns.

                                            >For polite Canterlot society it's considered rude to point your horn at anyone, even accidentally, so the muzzle tilts up.

                                            >To the untrained eye, no one would even know she was tired.

                                            >Any man would feel like a stumbling toddler in comparison.

                                            >“Hey, Anon?” a honeyed voice starts to say.

                                            >Lyra’s ears moving back to focus on you.

                                            ”Yeah, Lye?”

                                            >She whickers stopping to look back at you, “Pull my tail,”

                                            >...

                                            "No."

                                            >"Come on, Anon. It'll be really funny!"

                                            >”Not falling for it.”


                                            ----


                                            Anonymous 03/20/21(Sat)13:33:12 No.36745939

                                            >A loud boom rings through the throne room.

                                            >Like a low thunderous gong, the throne door reverberates.

                                            >It slams over and over, the hinges threatening to give.

                                            >The guards quickly take formation, and await your orders.

                                            "Let them in."

                                            >Without hesitation, they do so.

                                            >Ahh, Mister Anonymous, the local Humane.

                                            >You suppress a sigh, and give your sister a look.

                                            >She seems confused, likely because she hasn't had the pleasure of meeting him before.

                                            >He's a nice stallion.

                                            >Perhaps some radical views here and there but it's to be expected from an alien.

                                            >You do hope nopony has offended him too greatly.

                                            >Aside from his "casual" garments he's clad in a multicolored patchwork of gambeson, as well as a marvelously made mint green fur scarf and beanie.

                                            >He brandishes a sledgehammer, his breath is ragged.

                                            >There was a crazed look in his eye.

                                            >You've seen this, "red-eyed" look from some minotaurs in the far past.

                                            >The guards look about ready to rush him but with a curt gesture of your wing, they're at ease.

                                            >Anonymous may be large and intimidating, but he’s not one to hurt a pony.


                                            >In fact, you've gotten reports about little stirrups he's made about this time every year.

                                            >It's usually before Winter Wrap Up.

                                            >A direct assault on the castle is new though

                                            >His frown deepens and a tiny nose scrunches.

                                            >He doesn't stop walking until he's about 11 trots away from you and your sister.

                                            >Now that he’s close enough to see the white of his knuckles as he grasps the sledge hammer, his clothing gambeson and all seem to be made of pony fur.

                                            >Curious.

                                            >With a signature warm smile and a soft nicker, you greet him.

                                            "Why, Anonymous, how nice of you to vis-."

                                            >"What do I have to do to bring Nightmare Moon back."

                                            >Your sister's wings flare out, her eyes widening.

                                            >"Excuse us?"

                                            >He points the hammer at her.

                                            >"I'll beat it out of you if I have to, Moon butt."

                                            >Luna scoffs, her confusion quickly turning to anger.

                                            >Her wings slightly retract, her feathers standing on end as she quickly gets into Anonymous's face.

                                            >"Chooseth thine next words wisely, creature. Our past mistakes are not to be made a mere jest."

                                            >She greeted with a low growl.


                                            >You slowly stand up, nuzzling under your sister's jaw, a wing gently draped over her back.

                                            >"I'll take it from here, Luna."

                                            >Her snout scrunches and her ears pin, looking between your, and Mister Anonymous.

                                            >Sure enough she steps back, with a harumph.

                                            >You walk up to Anonymous, reaching up to nuzzle the side of his face.

                                            >"I want those winter coats back, and I want them now."

                                            "I see."

                                            >"Twiggy Niggy told me the phases of the moon makes the winter coats happen."

                                            >You nod, smiling up at Anonymous.

                                            >If it's anything you've learned through centuries of diplomacy with other races is that they see ponies as "cute" and you use it to your full advantage.

                                            >His posture relaxes if only for a second.

                                            >"I want to snuggle Lyra and get lost in her coat."

                                            >Right, one of your former graduates, Lyra Heartstrings, has made leaps and bounds of progress in teaching Anonymous the magic of friendship.

                                            >You couldn’t be prouder.

                                            >With a nod, you use your magic to give a light tug on the sledge hammer.

                                            >There's some resistance but he lets go.

                                            >You are sure to keep it within his range, so he doesn't panic and lash out.

                                            "Why don't you tell me all about it over some Tea, Mister Anonymous?” You say, turning to your assistant. “Raven, I'm sorry but I must end day court early, I hope you don't mind rescheduling the last few appointments?"


                                            >If she's frustrated, she doesn't show it, instead marking off a few things in her scroll.

                                            >"Already done, princess."

                                            >You should invite Anonymous more, if it means getting some extra time to relax.

                                            >Flashing Raven a thankful smile, you gently nudge the human with a wing.

                                            "Don't you have something to say, Anonymous?"

                                            >You nod to your sister who still seems upset.

                                            >He grunts, his lips wriggling.

                                            >"Sorry, Luna," he mumbles softly

                                            >Mare, you've still got it.


                                            >End


                                            >You give the humane a squeeze under your wing, following up with a nuzzle.

                                            >He might be a little taller than you, but right now he seems as small as a newborn foal.

                                            >Who would have known he was this distressed over some lost fur.

                                            >Maybe it has something to do with him not having any at all.

                                            >A slam echoes through the hallway.

                                            >Ohh my, another interruption.

                                            >"Anon, you're in so much-!" Sweetie- no, Bon-Bon grumbles, stopping once she notices you.

                                            >Lyra bounds in excitedly after her, "Hey, Anon did ya' get her?"

                                            >The unicorn pauses, looking outside to the sun still hanging low in the sky.

                                            >"I guess not." She giggles bounding up into Anonymous' lap.

                                            >You expertly catch his cup with magic, settling it neatly on the table.

                                            >She reaches up to give him a strangely angled neck hug.

                                            >You can almost see the humane's blood pressure lower.

                                            >He’s smiling for the first time since he's paid you a visit.

                                            >Anonymous, or Anon, replies in kind by wrapping his arms around her.

                                            >"Hey, princess!"

                                            "Hello, Lyra. It's good to see you again."

                                            >Bon-Bon comes slower, and looks at you apologetically before bowing.

                                            >"I'm so sorry princess. I'll take responsibility for any damaged property."


                                            >You humm, letting it hang in the air.

                                            >Does this stem from her not growing as much as you thought she would?

                                            >Is Anon just another monster to be monitored or...

                                            >"I ain't in trouble, dirt kicker." Anon grunts slightly leaning over to pat her head.

                                            >Dirt kicker?

                                            >That's a more modern tribal slur isn't it?

                                            >Oddly, Bon-Bon's grumpy exterior cracks for a fraction of a second.

                                            >If you weren't over a millennia old, you might have missed it.

                                            >So she is making new friends, and Anonymous too.

                                            >That's wonderful to see.

                                            >Everyday Lyra impresses you more and more.

                                            >It’s difficult to imagine what these two would be like without her.

                                            >Ohh, Bon-Bon looks like she's about to lose it.

                                            >You can't help yourself sometimes.

                                            >A wing moves to tickle Bon-Bon’s snoot, causing it to scrunch.

                                            "There's no trouble, Anon came for tea. Isn’t that right?”

                                            >You give the humane a smile and another nudge with the wing, before folding it back in.

                                            >The humane blinks. "Uhh, yeah. You want some, Bon?"

                                            >She looks unsure at the two of you, then slowly nods.