The Land Shark

I have read that destiny can make for some strange bedfellows. Never was the truth of that text more evident than with the pony that I found myself dining with.

“More stew for your bowl, it will feel your stomach and nurture your soul?” she asked as she went about refilling her own dish.

I nodded my head and passed her my bowel. Smiling, I she gave me my refill and passed it back. I stared at the contents. I racked my brain for names of the various items that floated in the broth, but my knowledge on cuisine was limited at best so no nothing came.

“Delicious,” I said as I relented on my need to know what I was eating and resigned myself to the simple enjoyment of eating it.

My new friend, who called herself “Zecora” smiled at my compliments of her cooking.

Ours had been a pleasant dinner, despite the peculiar way in which it had started. More than once I had felt the need to apologize for spying on Zecora. She dismissed my offense away as nothing, rather she was happy to have someone to talk to during her stay at the inn.

Through out our dinner we engaged in small talk. As a precaution I was selective in what I revealed about myself. I told only that I was a traveling scribe with an urge to once again take to the air in a ship bound for some fantastic voyage. Zecora seemed to be a trustworthy soul, but there are many reasons why I go by the alias “Wishmael” than just to have a fancy pen name.

Likewise, she was not so charitable with her own origins. While this irked the writer in me, who would have loved to record the secrets of a pony so exotic as a zebra. I was resolved to be respectful of her privacy much in the way she was being towards mine.

I learned only that she was traveling Equestria in search of a place to settle down and call home. To accomplish this, she hired herself out as a cook to the various airships that came and went through the ports. It was her hope that one day she might dock in a place were she felt she could stay permanently.

The contrast of our reasons for travel were not lost on me. I took to the skyways to escape the doldrums of home, while Zecora braved them in an attempt to find a place to call her own. Somewhat ordained that our paths would cross.

I reasoned that such a meeting was meant to amount to more than a single meal followed by a farewell the next morning. I took into acount my earlier precations concerning her charater and never blindly trust a pony you just met, but I sensed no malice or trouble would come from her. With this logic, I gave a rather bold proposal to the zebra.

“Zecora,” I asked

“Why don't we take up and be shipmates for a while? The road and sky can be a lonely place when you don't have a friend to walk alongside you. Also Together you and I have more chance of finding a captain that will be leaving Sandlot than if we were to search independently,” I reasoned.

“Long I have traveled the sky to there and back again. Though I have met many ponys few offered to be my friend.”

“Well consider me one of the few then. What do you say.”

Zecora looked away for a moment contemplating it.

“A friend to travel with would the nice and well. On what kind of ship should we set sail?”

“The one with that leads to the best story.” I repleid