On the edge of Ponyville, a young man crests the last hill on a long and wandering road. A wide brimmed hat and long weathered duster fight off the scorching sun, blown by a wandering wind. He meets his first view of the far off city and shining castle with a smile. And a chuckle. "With everything being a horse pun, I guess it makes sense the Horse is Equestria's sacred animal. Kinda in the na-and I'm talking to myself. Man I need a companion." The tall burly man shrugs, resting tanned hands behind his head. He'd become used to the heat, his trusty hat and copper tan speaking volumes of his travels. Sky blue eyes scan the horizon, trailing over the cerulean tattoos lacing his skin. Tribal sigils, his father's heritage. Silver Breeze walked alone for half an hour more before coming across his first Ponyvillians. A pair of women wearing hiking gear, one with minty hair and the other with a swirl of pink mixed with blue. He tipped his hat to the beautiful ladies, silver and azure locks flowing in the wind. A pair of giggles and his own wandering eyes bring a smile to his lips. The temptation to stop them almost overwhelms him, but his sense of duty drives him ever onward. "To Ponyville!" A grand declaration closely followed by an overheard sigh from the swirled haired woman. "Huh, kinda cute for a guy."

The castle was impossible to miss, and not just from the towering stature. Silver could feel the energy radiating from the center of town, one of Ponyville's many claims to fame. Nobody quite seemed to act the way he expected either, a sense of insurmountable cheer filling the public murmur. Rumors said that the castle sustained the residents of the city, keeping them young and youthful far beyond their years. People said the Friendship Council were so suffused with the tree's energy that they hadn't aged since Silver was just a boy. A trio of young women passed him by, leaving a snippet of conversation about a kid trying to find his purpose in life behind. They looked younger than he was, but it was impossible to mistaken the Equestria Games flagbearers for Ponyville years running. Silver removed a notebook from his pack, taking notes so intently he almost walked into a woman in cowgirl garb giving chase to the trio.

The castle's long winding corridors melted away under his boots, cool air and quiet music leading him in. In time he finally found the council chamber. Sitting there, reading a book and basking in the violet strings of the court's muse, he found her. Silver stood in the doorway, eyes drawn from the charcoal haired cellist to the Princess herself. Lady Twilight Sparkle, Deva, Mage, Scholar. She looks up from her book, tipping down a pair of reading glasses to meet his eyes. Archmage's robes and the curious sparkle in her eye lend her an air of wisdom, though the short cut of her skirt and sultry grin reveal her more playful nature. Silver froze, transfixed by her beauty. She didn't look a day over twenty, but she had to be in her late fourties. She waves him over, the muse making her exit on cue.

"Welcome to my home, Silver Breeze I presume? I'm sorry I didn't meet you outside, a girl can't say no to a good book?" She giggles like a schoolgirl, setting aside her book. Quantum Astral Mechanics and Related Theories, a glance at the spine revealed while Silver waited for his heart to restart. "Old habits die hard."

"Tis most alright, Mi'lady. I'm flattered, truly, to have a chance to meet you in person." He adjusts his coat, pulling his hat off to let his hair spill free. He almost missed the silent O on Twilight's lips as he sat, composing himself. "I'm glad my research can be of interest to you."

Twilight gives him an enchanting smile, leaning forward on her elbows. She wasn't the bustiest person he'd met, but her relaxed demeanor and the subtle bounce draw his eye like magnets. Her smile melts into a smirk, but before he can fully forget how to breath she draws him back to reality. "Well I am performing my own studies into Astral Energy, and the people who use it. You're a specialist on subjects I haven't gotten the chance to study, so its only natural I get your... Input." She rests her chin on a hand, looking vaguely up at him. "Specialists are very valuable assets."

Silver picks his jaw off the floor, shaking his head as he flips open his notebook. "Yes, well, Mi'lady, I-"

"Enough of that, we're both scholars. That justifies some familiarity, doesn't it?"

“I…. Yeah, of course, sorry. So as I was saying, most of what I know is about my dad’s people: Nature-Made. With them, I did a lot of research on Spirit Walker. I do know some about the Stone-Horned though, if you’re curious.” He flips through the notebook, coming to the start of his notes.

“Oh? Do you mind?” Twilight’s voice comes from over his shoulder, the woman herself looking over his shoulder. He tries very, very hard to ignore her pressing against his back, holding the notebook up for her. The Deva eagerly starts flipping through, letting him hold it while her magic does the work.

Spirit Walkers: Spirit Walkers are a rich and deeply traditional people, drawing from generations of folklore and ancestral teachings for their magic. A rare case of Astrally inclined individuals with great spiritual and physical magic. Physically they possess incredible strength and stamina, seen most thoroughly in their great “Stampedes,” migratory travel covering dozens of miles and lasting for days at a dead run. In a sprint they can manifest their Astral to become almost indestructible for short times, moving in a mostly straight line damn whatever happens to be between them and their goal punching through whatever they collide with if it refuses to move. They are in general stronger than the average Stone-Made, though their magical stores are smaller in exchange for vast physical endurance. (Perhaps an example of magically supplementing their physical selves, more research is required.) Alongside these gifts, the rare Spirit Walker is born with or earns the talent of speaking with Spirits, usually called Medicine Men or Shamans. Whether these are the echoes of living creatures or aspects of the natural world is unclear as Shamans are frustratingly cryptic but their presence is verifiable. These Spirit Walkers have shown, to this humble observer, a number of abilities through this spiritual communion including: dream-walking, speaking with animals, shapeshifting, healing magic, and the creation of enchanted fetishes/talismans. This last one is of particular interest, as it is both common among Shamans and incredibly varied. From a pot enchanted to heat food within to granting the bearer large batlike wings, the products have performed feats ranging from the mundane to the previously thought impossible. All fetishes/talismans seem to have a set time in which they’ll function, described by one Shamaness Guidingstar as “the great spirits’ compact coming to an end.” With nothing but conjecture, I can only guess that the length depends on the fetish/talisman’s effect and the disposition of the particular spirit. More research is needed, remember to find Shamaness Guidingstar again.

“Oh? This woman sounds very accommodating. A friend of your’s?” Twilight whispers, hands gently rubbing road weary shoulders.

“Uhhh… Yeah, yeah she is.” Silver tries to keep focused, flipping to another section of notes. “So, Nature-Made. My dad was one, so I’ve got a bit more detail on this group.”

Nature-Made: Distant cousins of the Stone-Made, the Nature-Made tribes of the far south are a rarity in northern lands. Similar to the Stone-Made, their Astral enhances their strength, endurance, and physical durability. The analogues end there. Where Stone-Made have an affinity with the earth and limited influence over plants/animals, Nature-Made have a much deeper connection to the living aspects of nature. The most common is an understanding of plants, proving capable of finding and intuitively identifying the nature of magical plants. This is often used in conjunction with their most notorious talent: The ability to produce potions and other arcane preparations, colloquially known as Alchemy. This is done by imbuing ingredients, often already carrying magical properties, with their own Astral essence. The rituals and brewing allow them to manipulate and influence the magical traits of what goes in the pot, so to speak. The results are ubiquitous and endlessly valuable: Magical medical potions being the most famous. Skilled alchemists are capable of producing anything from the ever useful Blood-Stopping Goo and Healing potions to the more esoteric inventions of savants such as the vaunted World-Weathering Wine and Breath Brew. As impressive as Alchemy is however, it’s far more science than magic. It’s even possible for Nature-Made to teach people inclined towards other kinds of Astral use how to perform Alchemy, though few show a natural talent for the craft as its inventors. Needless to say, the birthplace of Equestrian Alchemy is in the rarely thought of grasslands and forests far to the south. Their most powerful Astral use comes from a mix of natural Astral talent and ceremonially bestowed tattoos: The manipulation of the elements around them. Though they aren’t capable of creating their element like Fang-Bloods, they are able to use whatever is around them. Individuals tend to gravitate towards one element or another, though they have the ability to wield any element though not necessarily at the same time within reason. The tattoos Nature-Made wear stem from a tradition born of survival, combining certain magical plants and sigils with the wearer’s own Astral to dramatically improve their own abilities. Related: Astral stores and recovery times vary heavily, relying on internal and external factors. In practice they tend towards the middle, though their environment can improve or inhibit them more than others.

“Fascinating… And very thorough. I made the right choice.” Twilight has managed to situate herself in Silver’s lap, and he honestly can’t remember when this happened. Failed spot check aside, he sets the book down.

“Yes, well I’ve been studying my heritage for most of my life now. Any que-”

“Yes, if you don’t mind.” The Lady gets comfortable, dropping a notebook of her own onto the table. “I’ve got a few questions about your sources, perhaps you’d like to share your stories?”

“Sure, but that’ll probably take a while. Another day?” Silver can’t help but glance down, realizing just how light Twilight is. Despite the parts of him focused otherwise, his first thought is questioning how she’s doing that.

“Fine, but I’m getting it out of you before you leave.” A finger finds its way under his chin, giving him a very nice view of the tree stump chandelier.

Steel Horns Borne from a warrior culture similar to Wind Talons, Stone Horns showcase some of the greatest examples of physical strength in Equestria. Their durability and endurance are comparably low however, comparing to a Star-Child. They showcase an incredible Astral capacity, possibly connected to their larger physiques. Page 87 for further theories on that. Theirs is a proud history, a tapestry of military excellence and nobility. Rare in Equestria, discounting a certain famous modern figure, Steel Horns are known for their size (comparable to Tithelords) and impressive physiques. Less commonly known is the deep sense of honor instilled in their people from a young age; during the interview I was able to conduct a few things stood out. Steel Horns are taught that their word is as strong as their bodies, adhering to the spirit and letter of their words even when it would serve them not to. As a note, they tend to be very clever with their words when they want to be, manipulating others with truths and careful traps with the same ease an accomplished liar would. They are taught to never speak low of themselves, telling tales of their deeds and their family’s accomplishments whenever provoked. As a note, this isn’t seen as being egotistical, and in fact the interviewed individual was quite humble when not asked about his own accomplishments. He explained that it is a sign of personal pride, by growing and spreading their own legends they strengthen the culture as a whole, recounting how stories of Steel Horns in his youth drove him to seek greatness in his adulthood. On a more practical sense, Steel Horns manipulate Astral not just to improve their strength, but also manipulate stone and certain metals with astounding ease. This, and their culture as a whole, has lead their culture to become the forerunner of Golemancy, the craft of creating and maintaining autonomous and semi-autonomous constructs. As a personal note, travel to the lands far west is a must if further research is to be done.

Twilight set his book aside, tilting her head as the notebook and quill floating beside her write furiously. “You made reference to some things that have my interest. The spirits of the Spirit Walkers, and this theory about size correlating with Astral capacity?” For the first time since he walked in the scholar in her takes the fore, adjusting her glasses as she flips through a few preliminary mathematical theories.

“The Spirit Walkers had me pretty confused for a while, but I think I know enough to answer your questions. From what I’ve found, the Spirit Walker shamans aren’t quite using their own power to perform their ‘miracles.’ They do need to use Astral to perform the compacts with their Spirits, but it seems like they are using it as an offering or bargaining chip rather the actual energy performing the action. Their shape shifting is actually one of the more transparent feats: They don the pelt and likeness of the specified animal and call upon the spirit representing that animal. I was able to observe one, it seems as though the spirit possessed the Shaman in order to transform his physical body while maintaining his mind and astral identity. He described it as incredibly disorientating, and it only lasted for a short time, but the fact that it can done and undone so easily could be a big breakthrough for human transmogrification research. Compared to that the healing was mundane: It didn’t fix me on the spot like a sufficiently strong potion would have when I broke my leg out there, but it did reduce the time it took me to heal from a few months to a few weeks. And this is just conjecture mind you, but I swear my knee hasn’t ached since.” Silver picks up his notebook as he talks, flipping through various notes as he talks. The two are so into it that they don’t seem to care that the book’s resting in Twilight’s lap.

“Fascinating. I’ll need a copy of this as soon as you can make it. If this checks out, I might be able to convince the girls to fund a fully fledged expedition to the Mild West.”

“Sure thing, I’ve got some samples too. A talisman Guidingstar made me, it kept my canteen full for six months now. About the size thing though. It’s my theory that larger creatures can contain higher quantities of Astral Energy without suffering the usual side effects of over saturation, compared to smaller individuals from the same group. Whether it being from there being more for the Astral Energy to attract to or just there being more there to withstand the adverse effects, I’ve seen a relatively consistent theme in my travels. Naturally larger groups tend to have higher Astral reserves, though the opposite could also be true.”

“I have my own theories on the subject, but I agree. There is some form of correlation, perhaps connected to Astral Affinity perhaps not, but this information will prove valuable in my research. Thank you Silver, you’ve given me plenty to work with. Some of these abilities are… interesting, in the amount of overlap they share with others. Shapeshifting similar to Ashen Folk, though with its own brand of limitations. My own studies into human transmogrification have shown a lot of promise, but they’re extremely draining.” Twilight scoops his journal up out of her lap, letting it float over a finger. “Let’s make a deal. I’d like to read more of your notes, and I’ve got a little tidbit that I’m sure you’d be interested in. I’ve only met one other person with tattoos like your’s. A shamaness in the Everfree forest named Zecora. She’s an old friend of mine, and close enough to the Tree to still benefit from its bleed off. So why don’t you go visit her, and I’ll keep pore over this lovely little book while you’re gone. Then when you get back we can sort out the details of having my financial officer make a sizable donation to your expedition, we can put our heads together on some of this, and maybe see if you want to make any… further donations.” The saucy smile is back, as is the feeling of having a mild heart attack.

“Thank you Prince-er, Twilight.” Silver stands up, fixing his hat and coat. After a moment’s thought he places another two notebooks on the table, full of older notes. If her smile made his heart stop before, the barely suppressed squee as she scooped up the new books made it explode. Twice. By the time he’s fully recovered he’s outside, leaned against the great crystal doors of the castle watching the bustle of the growing city boil around it. He decides this Zecora can wait for a little bit, watching the crowd with mild awe as he centers himself. “I’ll never get used to seeing this many people in one place.” He mutters to himself with a smile, cheerfully oblivious to the purple lipstick gracing his cheek.

Half an hour later and nearly losing his hat a few times to particularly grabby trees, Silver Breeze finally sees his first sign of civilization since he entered the forest. Voices. Womens’ voices. He gently plucks a small furry creature off his shoulder, placing it safely on the ground as he listens.

“Thank you for your time Apple Bloom. You’ll be returning home I presume?”

“Eyup, Ah’m headin’ on home. And yer more than welcome Zecora, happy t’ help. Have a good night, ya hear?” Silver breaks through into the clearing just in time to see two women break off what must have been an impressively affectionate kiss. The two women look over at him, surprise clear on their faces at the sudden intruder.

“Uh… Hi.” He says, moments before a lasso snaps closed around his shoulders. “EEP!” He flops to the ground, eyes trailing the taut rope connecting him to a young man. The young man can’t be over fourteen, a teenager at best, bearing mocha skin and simple ivory markings similar to tattoos. A young girl stands just behind the teen, seeming to be around eight or nine, cheering on the boy in what Silver quickly realizes is Plainsland Zebrican of all things. She wears simple clothes almost identical to her brother’s, though her mocha skin lacks the ivory markings. Both siblings have striped ebony and ivory hair, though the sister’s is easily elbow length. “Hey, hey, sorry for interrupting. My name’s Silver Breeze, Princess Twilight sent me?”

A leg enters her field of vision. His eyes trail up the woman’s mocha skin, following ivory and gold. Her clothing leave little to the imagination to make room for future fantasies, especially from this angle. Gold rings adorn her body, a white and black mohawk tops off her distinct look.The woman kneels down, poking his forehead. “Is that so, John Doe? And what brings you to my humble abode? We are far from any plain or road.” The other woman crouchs down nearby, testing the ropes currently digging into his skin.

“Boy howdy, ya’ll’re gettin’ mighty good with yer lasso Zief. Gonna give me a run fer mah coin come rodeo season.” The teenage girl, who looks oddly familiar in Silver’s mind, tugs on the rope.

“Thank you AB, I just want to make you happy!” The young man warily steps closer, wretching the rope taut.

“Might wanna work on yer rhymin’, but yer welcome ya flatterer. Ya’ll got this taken care of Z?” She stands, dusting off her overalls.

“The intruder is well cared for, though you’re attention I can’t ignore. Thank you Apple Bloom. You’ll return soon I presume?” The tattooed woman rests her knee on his chest, leaving him an internationally excellent view of her profile. Silver finally gets a good look at the clearing, empty space surrounding a large gnarled tree hung with potion bottles and regents. His eye catches one odd detail amidst the surrealness: The clearing looks subtly unnatural, like the forest is kept back somehow. Since it looks like he’s not going to be a big tasty stew anytime soon, he makes a note to ask about this.

“Sure thing Z, see ya’ll tomorrow.” The farmgirl leans over, giving her ‘friend’ a quick peck on the cheek before swaggering into the treeline, following a subtle path barely visible from the foliage. The Nature-Made woman watches her go with a mysterious smile, knee casually digging into Silver’s ribs. His coughing rips her attention away, bringing her focus squarely back onto him.

“A friend of Princess Twilight, and a newcomer to my sight. I apologize for my son’s aggression, but you have not answered my question.” She turns that mysterious smile on him, oddly making it harder for him to breath than her knee. The pressure abates from his chest, letting him breath again.

“Sorry, I… Uh, can you…” He glances to the ropes around his chest, earning a tug from Zief and a smile from his mother. “Right. Well, my father’s a Nature-Made, and you’re the first I’ve met that wasn’t, you know… related too.” He chuckles nervously, eyeing Zief. The young girl pokes Silver’s shoulder with a stick, before jumping up and shouting something in Zebrican with a giggle. “Do you mind translating? My Plainslands is pretty rusty.”

“She says you are no Changeling drone, but are as dense as a pup’s bone.” She grins, her daughter pouting. “Zeif, Zendier, hurry on inside. I will soon be bedside.” The two kids rush inside, leaving Silver to pull himself free from the lasso. Zecora comes to his aid, and soon helps him stand. She’s stronger than she looks, pulling him to his feet with one hand. “I don’t want to be rude. Would you like to come in my abode?”

“Oh, certainly! Thank you, and thanks for the save.” She squeezes his hand, pulling him inside before he can complain.

“You’re very welcome, young man.” She closes the door behind him, letting him marvel at the heirlooms of their homeland. Trinkets and masks from far across the ocean, speaking of welcome and good fortune. He almost misses Zecora’s return, a bowl of tasty stew in her hand. “While you eat perhaps you could tell me more of your clan? I haven’t heard much of our people upon my arrival, so I’m quite eager to hear more.”

She sits him down opposite a firepit, legs crossed as they rest on thick padded cushions. “Sure, I’d love t-” He almost drops the spoon. “Wait, you stopped rhyming.”

“A habit born of my tutelage, as I learned Equestrian through song and rhyme. The locals find it entertaining, though often hard to stop feigning. You see?” She laughs, an oddly ominous sound that none the less he can’t help but feel a bit blown by. “Now come, tell me of your father’s home.”

Their conversation wanders through the night and two more bowls of stew, brought to an end by the wind rattling against the windows. Zecora looks up, flipping from a single hand to her feet in a smooth display of acrobatics. Silver can’t help but stare at her, watching well toned muscles work under smooth skin and bright tattoos. “The moon has reached its zenith, and dangerous to travel this forest under its embrace. It is time for bed, my new friend, though I only have the one.” She sweeps out of the room, leaving him to put up their dishes. Her voices echoes through the hall as he cleans their bowls in a sink, questioning where she acquired a buffalo water talisman. “I would hope you do not mind sharing?” He turns back to answer, freezing in place.

Standing in the moonlight, clad only in tattoos glowing against chocolate skin. Her hair flows free, framing her face on its way to her shoulder. A hand rests on her breast, tracing glimmering ivory as it marks her nipple. The other rests just over her most private parts, shaved bare skin peeking between fingers. She backs out of the moonbeam, a curled finger disappearing around the doorframe. Silver is helpless to her siren’s call, catching a glimpse of her before she vanished yet again. Beads gave way under his hand as he entered her room. He found her sitting on the bed, legs crossed and fingers on her cheek, waiting for him. He couldn’t help but stare at her, memorizing every curve. Her tattoos caressed her curves like the finest lingerie, her own hands sensuously following them. He hadn’t realized he was standing in front of her until he felt his pants unbutton and warm bliss slide over the tip of his cock.

“Many moons have passed since I tasted a man of nature, and I only find myself wanting for girth.” She speaks between kisses and teasing licks, hand wrapping around his growing length. His response is stolen away by a gasp, lips of heaven wrapping around his head. Gasp becomes groan as her mouth flows down, tongue flicking back and forth. Knees shake as he places a hand on her head, thinking to slow her before she sucks his very essence out, finding himself only guiding her deeper. A hum slips past his shaft, now finding its way into her velvety throat. Its only after she comes free with a wet pop and a muffled cough that he can even begin to think again, dropping to the bed.

“W-What about your… oh god… Your kids?” He has to stop for air as his shaft is swallowed by greedy lips. Zecora stops in her tracks, eyeing him with a mix of incredulity and barely restrained lust. Her teeth tease his head as she comes up again for air, thumb keeping him hard by playing with him.

“You are truly a scientist. A woman devours your cock, and you ask her children’s stock?” Her desire abates under a laugh, though her hand now pumps his shaft. “Blood of stone runs through their veins, a rich man whose wife is more pride than brains. Agreeable he found my breed, and so twice donated his seed. Do not think bad of his deed, he gives much more than we need. No deeper than flesh, so we are not misunderstood. He still acts as a good sire should.” Voice a lusty purr, her rhymes end abruptly as she rises to her knees.

“I’m… I’m only a half blood myse-” He cuts off, feeling something hot and wet land on his shaft.

Drip, drip, drip

Now straddling him, she lets him see her soaking wet pussy, even as she lowers herself down to press the head against her lips. He gives an involuntary twitch, completely at her mercy, unable to tear his eyes away. And with a wink, she places his hands on her hips, holding there. “We may talk, or we may fuck, but do not keep me waiting.” She leans down, heaving breasts against his chest and lips against his. “And do not be gentle.” That final whisper breaks his resolve.

His hands squeeze her hips, getting a firm hold before pulling her down. Tight lips resist for a heartbeat before swallowing, hips slapping against hips as twin gasps meet. She moans his name, breathy and euphoric, and he gives her no time to recover. His cock slides out until only the soaking wet head remains, slamming back into her with a clap of ass on thighs. A deep moan accompanies her pussy gripping his cock, desperate to stay filled even as he pulls free for another thrust. Though her back arches like a cat’s, both are soon covered in a thin layer of sweat and sex. Though Silver was no virgin, a certain shamaness had seen to that, he could barely keep up with the mature woman riding his dick with hungry abandon.

Sensing a moment of weakness, Zecora pounces like a panther. Soon she’s bouncing of her own accord, overwhelming him in a torrent of kisses, bites, and licks. Her breasts bounce alluringly in the moonlight, rolling in her hands. “Mmmm, a ride like no other. Care to show yourself worthy of your markings, mate?” She lifts her breast, nipple vanishing between her lips. Silver groans, forcing her to roll over.

Head resting on her pillow and legs in the air, she grins like a cat as he adjusts to the new position. She starts to contemplate taking control again and finishing her ride when a sharp sting appears on her rump, a slap filling the air. “Ah! Naughty boooooooy~” She groans, melting into a moan as his balls slap against her, cock deeper than any man’s before it. He starts to rut her with a fiery passion, catching one of her bouncing breasts and trapping it between his teeth. She whimpers something in her native tongue, legs wrapping around his hips to trap him inside, moments before something snaps within her. At once her body starts to shiver and spasm, eyes rolling back as her moans grow to a fever pitch. Juices soak past Silver’s cock as her walls attack him with a deathgrip and relentless spasms. “Z-Zecora, l-let m-oh FUCK.” His feeble attempts to pull away are dashed, her silken walls desperately holding on. He falls forward, thrusting his cock as deep as it will go, grinding his hips to her as pleasure burns into his mind. He tenses, his cock gives one final twitch, and he explodes within her. Her own orgasm redoubles as his seed fills her, painting her pussy white. Heartstopping seconds finally fade, and the mates collapse. Cum leaks past his still twitching cock, dripping down her ass to stain the disheveled blankets below.

“Oh… Oh geeze… Zecora, that was…” Silver gasps for breath, finding his cheek pressed against her voluptuous breasts and finding no better pillow in the world.

“Quite the ride, I’ll admit.” She basks in the afterglow, rolling to their side, keeping a leg around his. “In the morning, perhaps round two?”

“I’ve got a month before my next expedition, you know. If you want… I could keep score.” He winks, fighting back a yawn. Sex and passion are rewarding, but the night had been long. And with the promise of more in the future, the newly christened mates drift away to sleep.

Two months pass without delay. Silver spends his days working with Twilight, his nights learning from Zecora, and every idle moment growing to dread the day he finally has to leave. Growing closer to the sultry shamaness, who proves very knowledgeable about their people. In between caring for her children and meeting her friends, the two discovering from their tattoos that they actually share a connection to the same tribe, distant it may be. Surprises and adventures are had, from helping Zief and Zendier flee from Timberwolves to discovering just how close Zecora is to her cowgirl apprentice.

But all things must come to an end.

And this is how Silver Breeze finds himself cresting the first hill on a long and meandering road, hat and golden necklace blown by a wandering wind. A man looks back over the city, eyes sliding across the forest to where he knows home lays. His fist clasps around the keepsake for his time here, a silver locket on the end of his new necklace, memories safely within. Part of him beyond description urges him to turn back, to go to her arms. But the wind is blow, the road calls. Steelhorn lands wait, and with it countless opportunities to learn. In the distance, just within the swaying treeline, he sees them. A trio of figures, come to see him off in this final moment. From here he can barely see the tattoos upon all three, a smile coming to his lips as he remembers holding little Zendier’s hand on her nineth’s birthday. He takes up his hat, using it to wave. Shouted promises of his return carry upon the wind, borne upon its grace to tearful faces.

Zecora watches him turn, in time, and disappear over the horizon. The chill in her heart isn’t sorrow, not exactly, but she knows she will mourn his absence soon. She ushers her children back into the safety of the wood, deciding to believe in her mate’s promise. His parting kiss still fresh on her lips and memory burned into her mind, she smiles. “He will return, so the lantern will burn.” She whispers to herself, and to the keepsake he left behind. Her hand rests on her belly for a brief moment more, before she too disappears into those mysterious woods.

Author's Note

So this was written for @starblade using his oc Silver breeze. He came up with the idea's behind the 3 new people shown in the research notes. Hope you like it blade.