Fluttershy Finally Finds the Love of Her Life
Things were just as ordinary as usual in the Ponyville marketplace. The same old ponies dashed about, shopping around for the same old groceries at the same old stores. Nopony said a word out of line, nopony put a hoof out of place.
Nopony, that is, except one pony.
He was a very special pony, a pony whom some of the townsponies would whisper about when his back was turned. The brightest called him clever; most called him a fool, simple in his ways and his thoughts. Foals would bound to their mothers, asking loudly why that funny pony always looked where he was going, or why that pony never talked the way other ponies would talk; and the mothers, afraid of drawing the pony’s attention, quickly hushed their little ones with excuses.
“We don’t like to talk to that pony, dear,” they might say in whispered tones. “He surely has very important things on his mind, so please don’t bother him.”
Sometimes the pony heard this. He cared not, for oftentimes he would never stick around long enough even to put faces to the voices. With his raggedy black coat and his frizzled brown mane he pressed on from town to town, endlessly wandering but never tiring. The greatest philosophers of Equestria would study this pony from afar, eager to place a purpose to his eccentric ways, but the most they could manage was to theorize about the enigmatic conundrum that drove the pony to lift his hooves day after grueling day. Yet despite their uncertainty of his particularly peculiar ways, his bravery, the courage and the endurance to press forth toward his worthy goal, was written of in many of Equestria’s greatest texts.
But as for the pony himself—Oh! what wondrous stories he could tell, if only he would open his mouth! His wide green eyes had seen many a town in his day; his never-ending stroll had taken him through the bright city lights of Las Pegasus and the posh castles of the mountainous Canterlot alike. The ponies of Ponyville would never have thought to see a pony such as himself wandering the marketplace that day—but unbeknownst to the them, his extraordinary visit was written in the stars. Nothing short of fate could have brought his rambling hooves to such a little town, as it was here that the brilliant mind stumbled upon something worthy enough to halt him in his tracks.
It lay trembling at his hooves, as he had bumped right into the poor thing and startled it half to death.
The pony didn’t stop at first, but after attempting several times to put his hoof forward and finding a yellow pegasus blocking its path each time, he figured he must put a temporary pause to his boundless journey. Taking a seat, he gazed wide-eyed at his hurdle, but his hurdle didn’t seem to take a liking to being stared at like that. The terrified pegasus peeked out from a break in its silky pink mane, eyes glistening with fear.
“Oh... Um... Hello...” it spoke, voice shaking. Keeping its head low, it seemed rebuffed at the idea of being seen.
Now that his hooves had stopped, the peripatetic stallion put himself in abandonment of all his past principles. Opening his maw for the first time in months—years, even—he spoke:
“How are you?”
The pegasus blinked. It had heard of this stallion before; it knew that his words were only for those with the highest of privilege. Why had he chosen such a lowly pony as it, an ordinary pegasus he happened to knock over in the street?
“I'm... I'm fine...” it stammered, confused.
“Okay,” came the stallion’s artless reply; yet his gaze continued to pierce the pegasus’ mane, and he stared deeply into its soul.
Trapped by the strange stallion’s stare, the pegasus felt convicted to reveal its identity to him, in hopes of keeping the attention afforded to so few.
“I… M-My name is… Fluttershy…” She gradually grew calmer as she added “What’s yours…?”
“My name is also Fluttershy,” the stallion replied with oddly amiable expressionlessness.
The buttery yellow pegasus was caught off guard. Fluttershy was her name! Was it even possible for somepony to share her name that way? But she knew the other Fluttershy held wisdom far greater than that of her own… What good would come of questioning such an intellect as his?
“S-So… Um… H-How are you…?” Fluttershy stammered, brushing her mane aside and attempting to recover from her shock.
“Fine and you.” The other Fluttershy’s response was strikingly authoritative, causing Fluttershy to curl a hoof nervously.
“Well... I already said I'm doing fine...”
But the other Fluttershy simply said “No.”
Surely Fluttershy had been mistaken. She could’ve sworn she had said that…but the other Fluttershy said otherwise!
“Oh, I didn't? I'm sorry, I must've been mistaken...” the pegasus whimpered, scampering to her hooves in case the stallion grew angry with her.
“Yes. You were,” he stated matter-of-factly, causing Fluttershy to take a pace back.
“I-I'm really sorry...”
But the other Fluttershy, keeping a constantly blank stare, contested this.
“I don't think you are,” he claimed.
The accused pegasus crouched low.
“Y-You don't? But... Why not…?”
The stallion lifted his gaze from Fluttershy, looking out at the horizon instead.
“Because I am afraid.”
Fluttershy gasped. This was truly a side of the other Fluttershy that nopony had ever seen before; his eyes, still blank as a foal’s flank, seemed to fill with a deep sadness that only Fluttershy could bear witness to. Softening her posture a bit more, Fluttershy flattened her ears apologetically.
“D-Did I scare you? I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to...”
The other Fluttershy’s stare snapped right back to Fluttershy.
“I hope not,” he said, almost threateningly.
“I really didn't, I promise...” the pegasus said, hoping to atone for her supposed transgression.
But the other Fluttershy did not seem convinced.
“Yes, you really did.”
Poor Fluttershy’s eyes widened. She was innocent! It was an honest mistake!
“N-No, I mean it, I didn't mean to... Sorry...”
And just like that, their argument was over. The stallion looked down at his hoof, then back up at his obstacle.
“It's okay. Oh, look at the time... I better get going,” he said with his eyes fixed straight ahead once more, nudging Fluttershy with his hoof again in an attempt to step forward.
She jumped, surprised at the touch, but timidly agreed.
“Oh, um... Yes, the bunnies should be getting hungry soon. It's almost snacktime...”
At this the colt froze, no longer repeatedly prodding Fluttershy with his hoof. His gaze whipped back to her.
“What do you all the time?” he demanded of her.
Fluttershy blinked, unsure of how to respond with his lack of verb, but she wasn’t partial to upsetting her new friend further.
“I-I'm sorry, I don't understand...” she stuttered out.
“I mean juice, water etc.”
Fluttershy cocked her head to the side, still trying to comprehend what the other Fluttershy meant.
“Um... Well... I like apple juice a lot...” she replied, assuming that was what the stallion had meant. She appeared to be correct.
“Apple juice is the bomb1,” the other Fluttershy stated.
Fluttershy knew what a bomb was—those were scary. But what was a bomb-one, and why was it apple juice?
“W-What's a bomb1?” she asked, worried. “Is it... Is it dangerous?”
“No,” he said, refuting her worries in the very short manner that seemed typical to him.
“Oh, um... Okay,” the pegasus said, relaxing a bit. “But... What is it? If that's alright by you, I mean...”
“That was a cruel comment,” was the other Fluttershy’s cold reply, as it obviously was not alright by him.
Fluttershy gasped, shocked at her own terrible behavior.
“O-Oh my, I did it again! I'm sorry, I'm such a loudmouth...” She trailed off with a whimper, shriveling up on the ground.
The stallion nudged her once more—but for once not in an attempt to walk over top of her.
“You're a robot,” he said comfortingly, “and I'm a wizard.”
As awkward as this line was, it distracted the poor pegasus from her fear—replacing it with puzzlement.
“What's a 'robot'? Is that one of Twilight’s… Sciency things?”
The other Fluttershy’s response was a cryptic one.
“I am not a robot.”
“O-Okay...”
Suddenly his clear gawk deepened as he revealed a crucial bit of information.
“I really am watching you from a little hole in the ceiling.”
What was this metaphorical ceiling he spoke of? Fluttershy couldn’t even begin to comprehend it. Scared of boring the other Fluttershy with lack of conversation, however, the pegasus decided to take him literally.
“But you're standing right here in front of me…”
She had hoped the stallion would clarify his statement, but he only lowered his eyes, shaking his head sadly.
“For want of the price of tea and a slice the old man died,” he mused, placing Fluttershy in the same situation she was in only seconds ago.
“An... An old pony... Died? That's so sad...” Fluttershy murmured, rubbing her hoof. To herself, she wondered if the old pony was somepony important to the nomadic stallion; maybe the reason he wandered so was to find the lost soul of his father or grandfather.
But the stallion wasn’t quite as affected by the death as Fluttershy had thought.
“I don't think so,” he said, quite undeterred by the sadness of the pony’s passing.
“But... But he's dead...” the pegasus argued quietly.
“No he isn't, he's sat right next to me.”
Fluttershy covered her mouth with a hoof, surprised. Was that the soul he was searching for, walking at his side all along? But he claimed the pony wasn’t dead…
“I-I'm sorry, but there's nopony there...” she whispered softly, hoping to break the news to him gently. As so often happens, however, the stallion gave no care to the pony’s death.
“There is a sky in my house,” he stated, acting as if the factoid he presented to Fluttershy had any relevance to the conversation they were having.
At this Fluttershy grew concerned. Perhaps this pony was deluded, and was wandering crazed.
“A-Are you feeling okay, sir...?” she asked anxiously.
“A chair.”
She took this to mean: Why, no, fair madam, I am in fact feeling quite unwell. There was no way in Equestria that a chair could be any metaphorical answer to a yes-or-no question. She realized she must do something to help the suffering stallion.
“Um... Do you... Do you want me to make you a cup of tea?”
His reaction was harsher than she had anticipated:
“No! I want you to tell me why you are crying.”
“I'm sorry!” she exclaimed, tears welling up in her eyes from failure after miserable failure. “I-I just wanted to make you feel better...”
“Well, you are not succeeding,” he muttered, validating Fluttershy’s fears. “All this stressful banter is putting a great strain on my constitution. Oh the pain, the pain.”
“B-But... I'm... I-I really didn't... I mean...” she sputtered, the tears beginning to roll to her cheeks.
The other Fluttershy rolled his eyes, as if to convey his weariness, despite utterly failing.
“Interesting...” he mused, “I haven't understood half of what you've said in this conversation.”
That was it, that was Fluttershy’s breaking point; she couldn’t hold it back any longer. With one final sniff she lifted her head and wailed, attracting the attention of every pony in the marketplace. As she cried out the other Fluttershy curled his hoof, looking unaffected.
“Are you from Wales?” he asked, but Fluttershy did not react with positivity; if anything, she only cried louder, puddles of tears forming at her hooves. Awkward, the stallion quickly figured that the best way to soothe this pegasus was through the wonders of basic arithmetic.
“One plus one equals two,” he stated proudly, waiting for Fluttershy to stop crying in awe. She did not, and instead turned to run, leaving a trail of tears behind.
“I have to go,” he muttered. Yet he could not turn away, as the trail of tears happened to follow the path he intended to take five minutes ago before being so rudely interrupted. With a sigh, he followed, consoling himself with the thought that he was at least making progress.
The other Fluttershy found Fluttershy sitting a little ways off, wallowing in her sorrow. He approached carelessly, stopping when he ran into her from behind.
“Why are you crying?” he asked empathetically.
“Because… Y-You said I made you feel bad!”
The stallion huffed.
“That is irrelevant.”
This also did not have the desired effect on her, and she resumed her fit of bawling. He cocked his head.
“Oh sorry I love you too,” he said, causing Fluttershy to freeze up in surprise.
“Y-You... You... You love me…?” she stuttered, caught well off-guard.
“Yes cutie,” came the reply.
Fluttershy blinked away her last tear, sniffling. Her wings ruffled and her ears folded down.
“Um... Oh, my...”
He pushed her to the side and took her place, looking down at her.
“It's a dangerous world,” he began.
“B-But... You'll be there to protect me?” Fluttershy asked, her head low.
The colt nodded.
“Right.”
This was rather unexpected of the other Fluttershy, and Fluttershy wasn’t quite sure how to respond. Nopony had ever told her they loved her—at least, not that way, and especially not somepony as renowned as other Fluttershy. She tried to meet his gaze, but found herself coming up short, staring awkwardly at his unkempt chest fur.
“I-I'm sorry I hurt you. I didn't want to.”
“I know because you could hardly hurt me.”
Fluttershy curled her tail around her hooves, keeping herself lowered close to the ground.
“I... I wouldn't dream of it…” she murmured.
The other Fluttershy tilted his head.
“You wouldn't dream of what?
“Of... Of hurting you...” the pegasus repeated, wondering if the poor stallion’s memory was a bit jumbled. If it was, that might explain a few things.
“Did you bury me?” he asked, providing an example of the things Fluttershy was just thinking might be explicable.
“W-What does that mean?” she questioned curiously, wondering if it might be some sort of message. It, in fact, was.
“It's my town,” the other Fluttershy answered.
“O-Oh... Well...” Fluttershy stuttered, having never heard of such a town, nor of anypony introducing their hometown in such a creative way. “I'm from Cloudsdale...”
“No London.”
“Y-Yes, that's right...” she said, clueless as to what London was but knowing for sure it wasn’t Cloudsdale.
Put off by the awkward lull in conversation that followed—in which the stallion gazed in the same wide, blank eyes that began to make the timid pegasus feel uncomfortable—Fluttershy began desperately searching her mind for something else to do. As little as she wanted to bring him to her home, she thought of that first; it seemed fitting, as he’d already told her he loved her, and since that was a rather important confession she figured he’d earned the right to see her cottage.
“Um... W-Would you like to come visit my cottage?” she asked tentatively, closing the long pause.
“I would love to,” he replied, acting as if that past few minutes hadn’t been completely horrifying for a pony as shy as Fluttershy.
“O-Okay! Follow me, it's right this way,” she said, leaping up with a start.
“Where?” the other Fluttershy asked, following along at her side.
“Um, right up over that hill there,” she responded, pointing up at the roof of her cottage peeking up over the crest of a nearby hill.
“What is his name?” the other Fluttershy inquired, never stopping and keeping his eyes plastered on the empty space dead ahead of him.
“His name? Well... Um... I don't think you name a cottage...”
This set the stallion off. He halted suddenly, his accusing glare snapping to the pegasus.
“Look, do you know any puns, or do you just insult people?”
Her eyes widened again as she found herself back in this situation. She whimpered quietly before responding.
“W-What? I-I wouldn't... I couldn't...”
In a blink of Fluttershy’s eyes, the supposed anger disappeared, much like any other emotion the pegasus ever seemed to notice in his eyes.
“What do you do for a living?” he asked innocently, almost sickly sweet and torturously.
“Um... Okay...” Fluttershy said, back to being confused and just trying to go with the flow, as choppy as the flow seemed to be. “Well, I like to take care of all the woodland creatures...”
“Oh really,” the other Fluttershy said dryly, which Fluttershy tried to ignore.
“Y-Yes, it's really quite lovely. They're such sweethearts... Do you want to meet them?”
But the stallion’s memory problem seemed to be playing up again, reassuring Fluttershy that her doubts about his mental capacity were not all unfounded.
“Who?” he asked.
“The animals,” she replied shortly.
“You are not an animal.
She stopped on the crest of the hill, scuffing her hoof in the grass.
“W-Well... Technically, a pony is an animal...”
The stallion seemed horrified at this thought.
“That's not love!” he exclaimed, leaving Fluttershy once again in bewilderment.
“W-What's not love?”
“Baby don't hurt me,” he sang.
Fluttershy wondered if he was about to turn on her again. She didn’t like it when he accused her of things, especially since none of those things were ever true. Stuttering a bit, she leapt quickly to the most comforting reply she could think of.
“I-I won't, I promise!”
He huffed in response.
“Okay. Good,” he muttered, walking down toward the cottage.
Fluttershy squeaked quietly in surprise at his sudden movement, and leapt to join him.
“A-And you won't hurt me too, right?” she asked calmly.
“I won't tell you what?” the other Fluttershy asked, seeming to have misheard her.
“Uhm... I'm sorry, what did you say?” she countered, equally unsure.
The other Fluttershy evaded the topic entirely, not stopping to think.
“You are a computer. You do not eat,” he stated.
“That's not true...” came Fluttershy’s response, more sure and certain after having experience with this pony’s strange ways of conversing. “I like to eat salads...”
“That's a strange thing to say,” he retorted ironically.
Afraid of offending him yet again, Fluttershy looked down at her hooves, dragging her tail limply behind her as she trotted by her new coltfriend’s side.
“Oh, well... Um... I can not eat salads anymore... I-If you want, I mean...” she suggested.
“Why not?” he mumbled, not seeming to care that he’d condemned his fillyfriend to a saladless life.
“O-Okay, then... Is it okay if I eat apples? I really like apples...” she asked, hoping to establish some rules she could follow to keep him happy from now on. She thanked him happily when he agreed to let her eat apples, but in his nonchalant way he quickly changed the subject to something far more dire and pressing.
“I am explosive,” he said offhoofedly, as if that wasn’t a threat to his fillyfriend and every living being that took residence in her cottage nearby.
The pegasus strived to keep herself as level-headed as her coltfriend, even with such a drastic change in the status quo.
“O-Oh, dear... You need to see Twilight right away...” she whimpered, trying her best not to panic.
“What would I see if I was?” he asked in return.
Maybe he was just going into one of his strange psychotic fits again? He’d proven himself fully capable of doing so, and each time he’d displayed a horrible memory—which he just did then, forgetting that which Fluttershy literally just told him.
“S-Sir? Are you still okay?” she asked with concern.
“I need a cup of tea.”
“No... You need to go see Twilight, she can make you... Not explosive…” she said a bit forcefully, deciding not to take any chances. She didn’t know how a pony could be explosive, but she supposed it was possible.
“I know that weakness of me,” he mused, not helping to ease his fillyfriend’s concerns.
“P-Please, follow me, sir...” she squeaked, bounding off towards Twilight’s library with the supposedly explosive stallion in tow. She moved quickly, avoiding his multiple attempts at conversation—both because she was too worried to stop and think, and because she honestly had no idea what the hay he was talking about sometimes.
At last she skidded to a halt at the door of the library, knocking as loud as she could bring herself to manage—which wasn’t anywhere near loud enough for anypony to possibly hear. She turned back to her coltfriend.
“Okay, quick, go talk to Twilight. She can help you.”
But he simply shook his head.
“I want to talk to you,” he cooed quietly.
The pegasus lowered her head in worry.
“That's sweet of you, but... I don't want you to explode...”
“Why?” the other Fluttershy asked sarcastically, his biting tone eluding the notice of his fillyfriend.
“Because... W-Well, I've never had a pony tell me he loved me before...” she answered honestly, digging her hoof in the dirt and looking away timidly.
“What is it?” the stallion asked, head tilted in curiosity at the notice of Fluttershy’s coyness.
“W-Well... Uhm...” she responded after hesitating a moment. “I think, maybe... I m-might... I might like you too...”
“Maybe.”
Fluttershy’s fearful gaze snapped back to the stallion.
“But that won't matter if you explode, so please go speak to Twilight!”
“You can eat a horse, but you can't drink its water,” he replied in some form of metaphor describing how stubbornly he insisted on not going in and solving the ominous problem at hoof.
His fillyfriend shook her head, eyes closed.
“S-Sir, I don't think you're... Um... I don't think you're thinking okay... Hold on, I'll bring Twilight out here...”
He bowed his head a little.
“Thank you.”
He waited a little while after Fluttershy dashed inside. No thoughts plagued his mind, but he appeared content with the situation as it stood, and he must have dwelled on this while Fluttershy stumbled over her words to explain her predicament to Twilight. Finally the duo emerged from the library, one’s eyes flooded with worry and the other with confusion.
“Here he is! Please, Twilight, he said he was going to explode... Please help him! I'm so worried...”
Twilight, utterly dumbfounded at the thought of an explosive pony, began to examine the stallion. She’d read about him in her books, though never expected to meet the nomadic wonder in person; after determining that he was, in fact, not explosive, she took the opportunity to run a few more tests on him. Fluttershy, overcome with fear, took no notice that Twilight’s tests were completely irrelevant to the explosiveness of her coltfriend until she heard him bursting out in what she thought must have been his laughter.
“Please, no more tickling my hooves!” he cried, though no gleam of happiness appeared in his eyes.
“Twilight!” Fluttershy exclaimed, eyes wide as she was jolted from her fear. “What are you doing?!”
The violet alicorn froze, caught red-hoofed with a feather to the stallion’s hooves, but it was the other Fluttershy who answered.
“Invading Austria's vital regions,” he said, winking—and making the first eye gesture anypony had ever held the privilege of seeing. It seemed unnatural.
Twilight simply rolled her eyes, throwing the feather to the ground.
“It’s nothing, Fluttershy. I’ve just never thought I’d meet such a… A curious pony as the other Fluttershy.” Passing her friend a clipboard, she continued: “There’s no evidence pointed to any explosive traits in him, which… Which is good, I should think. I can’t imagine what Equestria might become if we lost somepony as brilliant as him…”
Fluttershy looked through the data she was presented. She had no idea what any of it meant, but Twilight said her coltfriend wasn’t explosive, and that was all she needed to hear.
“You mean he's not going to explode?” she said, her face brightening. “Oh, that's wonderful!”
“He does seem to suffer from some sort of mental disorder…” Twilight mused, looking down at the pony and scratching her chin in puzzlement.
“Oh, yes, I know,” Fluttershy said. “I think he's tired. Sorry to trouble you…”
“You aren't boring me,” the other Fluttershy piped up.
“That's... Um… Nice,” Fluttershy murmured, wandering back towards her cottage as Twilight watched them go.
The new couple walked in silence through Ponyville, as was expected of the other Fluttershy by the townsponies; this time, however, his wide eyes were fixed on Fluttershy and not whatever was directly ahead.
“I thought you didn't need to sleep,” the stallion observed a little ways down the path, picking up on his fillyfriend’s exhaustion despite her attempts to hide it.
Fluttershy jumped a little, startled by the break in the silence. She waited a moment, recollecting her thoughts.
“O-Oh, um... Well, yes, I need to sleep, but I'm... Well... I'm scared of the dark...” she replied, forcing herself to open up more to him.
“What are you scared of?”
“I-I don't like that I can't see, and there could be anything watching me...” she said, staring at her hooves as she walked in embarrassment.
“I am not a machine.”
“Is that a good thing?” she asked, growing tired of her coltfriend’s random conversation points.
“Yes.”
“That's nice, then.”
But then the other Fluttershy said something that threw Fluttershy for a loop, causing her to question everything she thought she knew about their relationship:
“What is your girlfriend's name?” he asked in his characteristically casual tone.
Fluttershy stopped in her tracks. Her fillyfriend? Of course she didn’t have a fillyfriend; she’d just met her new coltfriend!
“Oh... My... But I'm a filly, I don't have a fillyfriend... But I think you're my coltfriend now, right?” she asked, mainly to reassure herself.
But the other Fluttershy confirmed her greatest fears: she was wrong, about everything.
“No,” he said coldly.
“Y-You're... You're not? B-But... But you said... You said you loved me...”
“No I did not you are a program humans can't love a prograrm they are just materials.”
She felt betrayed; the pony she grew to like, the pony that told her he loved her, denied ever being attracted to her. It was a crushing blow to the pegasus, and she began to tear up as the thought took over her mind.
“But you promised to protect me... And I promised not to hurt you... A-And I said I liked you too... But... Y-You don't love me anymore...?”
Surely, she thought, it couldn’t get any worse than this…
She was wrong.
“I never loved you,” he said. “You are unloveable.”
Fluttershy choked out a gasp, tears falling already.
“B-But... But I... But you...”
She found her feelings tumbling over once more, and she couldn’t control her gushing tears. Now in the safety of solitude, she cried even louder than she did before, her heart crushed; the other Fluttershy, having proven his ineptitude in dealing with such situations, looked up to the sun.
“What's the day today?” he asked, but was answered by nothing but another geyser of tears, as was to be expected. He looked down at Fluttershy, who had sunk to the grass in sorrow.
“What?” he asked, having not heard her latest snivel. She sniveled once more, to which he responded “Ok. Hold on.”
Unlike literally any other pony in Equestria, he watched as Fluttershy bawled her eyes out on the ground in front of him; he even encouraged her to keep crying, hiding his heartlessness behind his emotionless eyes. At last, once he’d had his fill, he patted her on the head with a hoof.
“Okay okay I’m sorry,” he said with a clear tone; but his calmness no longer fooled his ex-fillyfriend.
“N-No you're not!” she blubbered. “You hate me!”
The other Fluttershy snorted in contempt.
“I know that.”
Fluttershy could take no more of this. Without another word she clambered to her hooves and ran, whimpering uncontrollably. She sped off towards her cottage, blinded by tears, she knew that she had to get away. That pony was no good, no good for anypony at all, and she would suffer him no longer. He sat, watching her flee, until she’d left his sight.
That was the last anypony had heard from the wandering stallion; he seemed to disappear from the face of Equestria, never turning up in any new towns. While the stallion himself has yet to be seen, his companion Marius has since come forth to offer the rest of his story. According to Marius, after crushing Fluttershy’s heart, the stallion had stopped by Marius’ house and brought him along on his next—and last—journey. The duo reportedly traveled to Antarctica, where they sat in the middle of a penguin herd. Rumor has it that the stallion continues to sit there amongst the penguins to this very day.
Not because he can’t leave or anything. Marius left, didn’t he?
Perhaps the greats were wrong to call him a Cleverpony.
