Octavia's Final Stop

Chapters

Riding the Train
The Station Platform
The Encounters

Riding the Train

Octavia climbs onto the train and makes her way slowly through the car until she finds herself an empty seat. She places her cello in the seat next to her next to the window, and hopes the train wasn’t going to be too busy. She could have checked it, but the last time she did, it had gotten damaged. She’d tried to get the train line to pay for the damages, but they weren’t willing to do so, and a lawsuit would have been far more costly and time-consuming than she was willing or able to deal with, so she’d bitten the bullet and paid for the repairs herself. The only frustrating part of taking it on the train with her was that when it got crowded she would be asked to pay for the seat her cello was taking up, or have it moved to baggage. If today was going to be one of those days she was probably going to go off on the poor operator.

She’d come to Manehatten for a performance, and although she’d gotten paid, she hadn’t actually been able to perform. She was supposed to perform in between this stupid asshole solo guitarist, and the big show, who was some band she’d never heard of but were apparently really popular among young colts. AP..Q…49, or something? Unfortunately, the stupid asshole had gone over his time, and nopony had pulled him off stage. By the time he’d gone through his fourth unasked-for encore and left the stage, her time was gone and they weren’t going to let her perform when their big moneymaker pop group was up next. Oh, she’d tried to get someone to get him off stage so she could perform, but every stage hand she’d bothered about it said they had to go find the manager, and he couldn’t be found, and then they had to consult the timetable, which had coffee spilled on it.

The whole thing was completely unprofessionally handled, she didn’t get any exposure, all she got was the money. That was great, but it didn’t help her position at all. Her band back in Ponyville would be expecting her, at least. It was a solid source of income, and sometimes they got to perform in Canterlot, but she wanted more than that. She wanted to make it big. Her roommate Vinyl had her back, at least. They’d been working on some stuff together, and it was apparently a pretty big hit with Vinyl’s crowd, so maybe that would take off somehow.

She leaned back in her seat and closed her eyes. The murmur of the few ponies around her in the car was a pleasant drone, supported by the backdrop of the sounds of the train idling on the tracks. It wasn’t long at all before she found herself drifting off to sleep.

“Miss, I need to see your ticket, please.” The operator pony asked.

Octavia pulled out her ticket and hoofed it to him. He looked it over, nodded, punched it, and moved on down the rows. His voice repeated the same line as he went, sometimes replacing ‘miss’ with ‘sir’. Octavia stared at the roof of the train, and leaned back once again. She felt the easy rocking of the train car as it clicked down the tracks on the ride to Ponyville. It was a trip she’d made many a time, and although it was several hours long, she knew exactly where they were just by peeking out the window. It was evening, with the sun low in the sky, and judging by the scenery, they’d just left Manehatten proper, and would soon be leaving to the countryside. They’d probably be stopping at Hollow Shades after they passed through the North Foal Mountains. That might result in a couple extra hours, but it’s not like she had anywhere to be.

Octavia stared out the window for a short while, then reached in her saddlebags and pulled out an old book: Les Misérables. She’d always wanted to go visit Prance sometime. She’d even been practicing her Prench, but she always seemed to never have the bits, or the time. Usually both, sadly, but it was the price she paid for trying to make herself known. Maybe when she finally got popular enough she would be able to schedule a performance over there. Maybe even ride there in one of those fancy airships she’d heard so much about. Pinkie Pie had her balloon, and that was fun for what it was. Octavia could only imagine how much more amazing it would be to ride in a massive airship!

Octavia sighed and realized after a short while that she was staring at the pages, but wasn’t actually reading them. She closed the book and stuffed it back in her bags. She hated all this traveling alone. With no one to talk to, it turned into one interminable introspective journey that ended up going to the same place every single time: She wasn’t good enough, she wouldn’t ever be good enough, and she certainly wouldn’t ever be popular enough. Sure, she had everything she needed, and she could easily keep it, but that wasn’t going to be enough for her. Rarity had managed to break out of the trap that was Ponyville, but she was one of the elements of harmony, and she was friends with a princess, who had contacts with the other princesses. How fair was that? Meanwhile all Octavia had was friends who were in the same situation as she was. Nobodies who had difficulty connecting with anyone who wasn’t a nobody because who would want to talk to a nobody? Much less hire them to perform.

Octavia watched the trees and occasional shack go by. The clacking of the tracks a familiar beat to the rhythm her life had taken on. She saw the mountains looming larger and larger up ahead and closed her eyes. She listened to the train rumbling onward, the setting sunlight coming in warm through the window. Then, with a muted roaring the sound echoed back to the train as the tunnel enveloped them in a cocoon of darkness. A small bit of light spilling back from the train’s headlight, just enough to outline most of the objects in the darkness. She heard muttering from some ponies and smiled to herself. They were probably new to the Friendship Express and hadn’t ever gone through the tunnels before. She had to admit, it had been a bit unsettling when she was new herself, but she’d gotten over it pretty quickly. It actually felt rather comforting in its own way. A sort of chrysalis of darkness, where nopony knew you were there. This tunnel was rather long, taking about fifteen minutes to fully pass through, but then it was only another hour to Hollow Shades.

Octavia stared into the darkness. There was some more muted whispering, and a few ponies decided to try to get up and walk around. They giggled as they stumbled about. Octavia figured they were probably special someponies. They seemed to be clinging to each other pretty tightly as well. They wandered about the car and bumped into Octavia while they went.

“Look, I understand, it’s dark, it’s quiet, and it’s maybe a little spooky, but you twats obviously can’t see where you’re bloody going, so if you could kindly bugger off and sit down until we exit the bloody tunnel, nopony else needs to get hurt, alright?” Octavia said with a frustrated sigh.

“Geeze, lady, fine. We’ll go somewhere else.” The stallion said.

“What crawled up your flank?” The mare muttered. “C’mon sweetie, let’s go to another car.”

The two giggled and muttered as they left, and Octavia could only assume they were talking badly about her as they left. She didn’t really care. She was tired, angry, and she certainly wasn’t going to put up with any shit she didn’t have to. So long as they weren’t going to be bothering her anymore, that was fine. They could go bump into other ponies elsewhere. She heard the separating doors open, and the roar of the runnel’s wind and the clacking on the tracks grew louder for a brief moment, then the door shut and everything got blissfully quiet once more.

Octavia waited in the darkness until the train pulled out into the fading light, and she looked out the window at the passing landscape. The mountains encompassing Neighagra falls to the north, and the Foal Mountains to the south. The tracks would split up ahead, and they’d be stopping in Hollow Shades soon enough. She looked around the car she was in, seeing how many other ponies were there. She was one of only three ponies that remained in her car. One bat pony, who was likely getting off at Hollow Shades, and a pink mare who was either an earth pony or Pegasus. No horn, but she couldn’t see anything more. The couple hadn’t come back, thankfully. Maybe they’d stay away.

Just as she thought about it, she saw a mare and stallion making their way toward her car from the door that had been opened earlier. It was probably them, so Octavia made a studious effort to glare out the window with only occasional disapproving glances their way. They opened the door, slipped in past the wind of outside, and made their way back to their seats.

The couple were continually muttering to themselves, drawing a frown from Octavia. Something about lovely trains, and nice scenery, and how Canterlot was going to be wonderful. They said something about sightseeing, and Octavia heard the word ‘orchestra’ and her mood darkened. She’d tried out a couple times, and although they had sung her praises at every audition, she’d never been chosen. It was a constant source of frustration. If they didn’t want her, they could at least explain what she was doing wrong, but no, they just told her she was great, and sent her on her way, happy as you please. That was no bloody help.

Her gloom perpetuated itself until the train arrived at Hollow Shades, and she didn’t even look up as ponies stood and walked out of the car. It was a nice city, and especially with the dark of twilight and the canopy overhead, the city itself was really quite lovely, but their music was… not to Octavia’s taste. Unique, in its own way, but not something she enjoyed. She certainly never got asked to perform there, that’s for sure.

“All aboard!” The operator shouted.

A single pony scrambled across the platform and dove inside one of the cars up ahead, then the doors shut and they chuffed on their way out of the station. Just a few more hours to go and she’d be in Canterlot, then it was a short jaunt to Ponyville, and home. They’d be arriving quite late, but Vinyl always left the door unlocked. More for herself and forgetting or losing her keys, but it worked in Octavia’s favour as well.

Octavia looked around the car once more, seeing if she was alone. She saw no other ponies, but there was a bag left in one of the overhead compartments. She’d let the operator know, but she leaned back with a smile, and started humming happily to herself. She enjoyed being alone on the train.

Octavia sang quietly to herself, humming some of her favourite songs and generally enjoying herself. She pulled out her cello and inspected it a little bit while she idled. She attempted to read her book again and made it a little bit further, and she even took another little nap while she waited. As she closed her eyes, she made a little note about how much further it might be before they finally arrive at Canterlot, and thought about her bed back at home and much more comfy it was than these bloody seats.

Halfway through her nap she was jolted awake by the train experiencing a bit of a bump. Not unheard of, but still unexpected. She glanced around blearily, and noticed a couple of ponies standing and talking on the other side of the door to the next train car. They didn’t look her direction, and with a mumble of complaint she closed her eyes and went back to sleep.

When she finally woke up, it was the dead of night, far past sunset. She sat up, clearing her throat and smacking her lips. They obviously hadn’t yet made it to Canterlot, which was a little surprising, but when she looked out the window she couldn’t make heads or tails of where they might be. A fog had rolled in while she was asleep, and it clung tightly to the windows, roiling in the reflected light from the headlamp of the train. Candles had been lit in each of the train cars, giving a soft but meager light to the interior. A little confused, Octavia first checked her cello and saddlebags, making sure they hadn’t been tampered with while she was asleep. Once she was satisfied everything was in order, she leaned forward and looked around the car. She wanted to ask an operator how much further until Canterlot.

Unable to spot one immediately, she looked around her car, and seeing nopony in here with her, she left her cello and saddlebags on the seat and stood up, moving toward the next car. She peeked through the door, and saw a couple of ponies sitting in their seats, but no operator. She moved to the car behind hers and peeked through that window. She saw an operator in his blue and white uniform standing near the back, looking out a window. She tugged open the door, the cold and damp air of outside spilling in, making her fur bristle, then quickly slid open the next car and hurried in, closing the doors behind her.

“Brrr!” She shivered, giving herself a little shake to try to ward off the cold. “Pardon me, sir?”

Octavia moved closer, slowly trotting down the aisle toward the operator. He didn’t respond, but just kept staring out the window. His cap was pulled low over his eyes, and he was looking slightly downward. As she got closer, she could hear him mumbling to himself.

“…tracks go… should be… maybe more to the… rain or shine…” he muttered.

“Pardon me, can you tell me how much longer it may be until we reach Canterlot?” Octavia asked, stopping just outside hoof reach of him. She was a little put off by his behavior.

He went silent, but he didn’t look at her. “Oh… not long.” The operator said.

“That’s… great to hear, but can you give me an estimation?” Octavia said, a little put off.

“Oh… not long.” He said again.

She took a step back, looking at him askance. It wasn’t unheard of for ponies to sometimes dress up as operators and try to scam others for payment, saying they hadn’t paid their ticket. If this pony didn’t know how much longer until Canterlot, which was something every operator should be keeping track of on their mandated watches, then Octavia was willing to bet this pony was a scam artist.

“Thank you for your time.” Octavia said curtly, and hurried away from him. She noticed he turned to watch her go, and tried not to quicken her pace.

The cold night air blew across her fur and whipped her mane about her face as she transitioned between cars, and she made her way quickly back to her things. They were both still there, thank Celestia. She quickly picked up her saddlebags and balanced her cello on her back, with the strap going across her chest. She didn’t want to be near that stallion any longer, and she felt she should probably report him. She had foolishly taken a seat near the back of the train, and that was where the least number of ponies congregated, making her a prime target for any ne’er do wells who might want to rob her. Cursing herself for a fool, she glanced back at the operator she’d left in the car behind her and felt her panic rising as she saw him staring through the door window. His hat was still too low to see his eyes, but now she was definitely frightened.

Octavia wrenched the door leading to the forward car, and carefully slipped through, trying not to bang her cello on anything, but hurrying as much as she dared. She slammed the door shut behind her, which earned her a ‘Shhh!’ from somepony sitting nearby.

“Shhh, your bloody self!” She muttered darkly back.

She favoured the shady operator with another glance, and saw him entering her old car, and cursed silently. If he caught up with her and called her a thief or crook or whatever, without a true operator around, none of these ponies were going to defend her. That’s what she gets for being a bloody wanker. She scurried down the aisle, trying to avoid the eyes of all the other ponies in the car and squeezed through the next set of doors, trying to keep herself ahead of the false operator following behind her.

Octavia continued down the line of cars, the dim candlelight wobbling back and forth to the rhythm of the train. She looked backward again, and saw the operator pushing his way past several ponies on his trek through the cars to presumably catch up with her. She noticed he was carrying something. It seemed to be a suitcase. It was probably that one up on the luggage rack in her car. Why was he carrying it, though? Was he going to blame her for stealing someone’s luggage? Why was he following her in the first place?

Octavia pushed through another set of doors, the cold air of the in-between blowing on her face as she moved to the next car. She quickly scanned the area and gave a grunt of frustration as there was yet again no other operator to be found. She blindly pushed forward, past the very occasional pony, through door after door after door, until she came up to the next set of doors, and saw that the next car was dark. No candles were lit in the next car, and the light from the current one prevented her from seeing into it. She looked behind her to see if that operator was still following and cursed when she saw he was. She looked back at the darkened car ahead of her warily, then looked back at the stallion behind, and with another grunt of frustration, she threw open the doors and slipped into the pitch-black car.

Once inside, she was pleased to note that it wasn’t as dark as it had seemed. She could actually see, albeit rather poorly. She pressed her side up against one row of seats and moved slowly forward, her cello bumping against the edges of the chairs as she passed by them. Her shoulder bumped into something warm, and she jumped a little in alarm.

“Oh, I’m quite sorry. Please forgive me.” She apologized.

There was the sound of movement, but the pony she’d bumped didn’t say anything. Octavia was hoping she could find another operator, or barring that, she guessed she’d settle for the conductor. She continued along the car, until she found the door at the far end. She slid it open and reached for the door on the other side of the divider, but her hoof swung against empty air.

“What…?” She said, swinging her hoof around in the darkness.

The fog, combined with the lack of interior light in this car, made it impossible to see very far ahead, but surely there should be something ahead. Something pulling the train! Was she at the engine and it was just a bit further away than the rest? She really wished the lights were on in this car. Octavia felt a hoof on her shoulder, and jumped a little. She felt a rush of adrenaline as she jerked forward slightly, trying to get away from the hoof touching her and ending up leaning a bit more out the door. Once she’d gotten a good grip on herself, she turned to look at whoever had grabbed her.

“May I see your ticket please, miss?” The operator said. He was holding that suitcase, and she still couldn’t see all of his face.

Octavia jerked out of his grip. “Yes, you may. Just a moment. It’s in my saddlebags.” She said curtly.

Octavia shut the door and set down her cello, keeping an eye on the operator while she dug a hoof into her saddlebags. She shuffled through her items, and eventually came up with her ticket. She held it out for the operator to look at. He reached out a hoof for it, but she pulled it back.

“As you can see, it has been punched.” Octavia said curtly.

“Ma’am, this is for Ponyville. I’m afraid that’s not one of our stops.” He said.

“Don’t be ridiculous. I ride this train all the time, and I know for a fact that you stop in Ponyville. Where is the conductor or a different operator? I would like to speak to one of them.” Octavia said.

“Ma’am, the conductor is busy driving the train, and in his stead, you will need to speak with meeeeeeee.” He replied, holding the final sound.

Octavia felt goosebumps crawl up her spine at his words.

“Now, since you’re riding a train you don’t belong on, I’m afraid you’ll have to get off at the next stop.” He said.

“Surely you’re joking! It’s the middle of the night!” Octavia said indignantly.

“It’s either that, or we turn you over to the guards when we arrive.” He said, tilting his head down even further.

Octavia swore his grin was getting wider. He was trying to hustle her or something. She wasn’t certain what his game was, but it was clear the entire train was in on it. No operators but one, and he wouldn’t let her speak to the conductor. She’d spoken to the conductor before on this trip. This late at night, it was probably the same fellow. Stallion by the name of Steel Driver. Something was wrong, and she didn’t know if she wanted to find out what awaited her at the far end of a hijacked train. All she could see was the top of this stallion’s hat. There’s no way he could possibly have predicted when she would start noticing his little game, so he probably wanted her off the train so she couldn’t raise a fuss when he sprung whatever trap he was planning.

“Fine. I’ll get off. When and where is the next stop?” Octavia said.

The train screeched to a halt, throwing her against the door.

“Right now.” He said with a wide smile.

Octavia looks out the window, then at the operator. “Where have we stopped?” She asked.

“Your stop.” He said.

“No, I mean where are we?” She said.

“Ma’am, you’re holding up the train. Please exit the car in a timely manner so that we may keep to the schedule.” He replied.

“I’m not bloody getting off this train, until I know where the bloody hell I am!” Octavia screamed in his face.

Without a word, he grabbed her by the hoof and started dragging her to the door. She struggled against him, but his grip was like iron, and his hooves were very cold. He dragged her to the door of the car and pulled it open. She pushed back against the door frame, but she was no match for his inpony strength, and without much effort, she ended up tumbling out the door and onto the train platform, her saddle bags spilling everywhere. He tossed that suitcase he’d picked up out after her, and it slid across the ground.

“Good luck, miss. I am sorry you missed your stop.” He said with that infuriating small smile. She tossed a stick of lip balm at him but he shut the door and it bounced off harmlessly. She had to sit and watch as the train started up again, the engine still obscured in darkness and fog, and it soon disappeared into the night’s mist.

Octavia pulled herself to her hooves and gather her things. She packed it all roughly into her saddlebags, cursing to herself. “Operator can go and bugger himself. Bloody wanker says I missed my stop. Not bloody likely. Tosser probably has friends waiting to mug me.” She muttered. “You tossers out there? Come get me! A lone mare all by herself on a train platform in the middle of Celestia’s knickers-knows-where!” Octavia shouted into the mist.

The Station Platform

When nothing happened she was almost disappointed, but she lifted her cello on her back and took stock of where she was. It was a bit surreal, and she’d be lying if she said she had any idea where this lay between Hollow Shades and Canterlot mountain. She didn’t know how long she’d napped before waking up, so she couldn’t even guess based on time. The fog prevented any of Luna’s light from reaching her, and the single lamp on the platform provided minimal illumination. The platform itself stretched off in both directions, but the only lamp that was currently lit was the one she was standing under. Something smelled wrong with this whole mess, and Octavia didn’t like it one bit. Missing train cars, no lights, shady operators, and why in the bloody hell couldn’t she see the engine? Somepony was taking the piss out of her, and she didn’t like it at all.

Should she wait here for the next train? It was the middle of the night, and the fog was making things quite chilly. She might end up waiting for hours until morning, and this really wasn’t the place to be doing it. If she could find an inn or hotel or something, that would be preferable to this soggy mess. She started toward where the exit was likely to be when she saw the suitcase the operator had thrown at her. He must have assumed it was hers and she’d left it behind. It wasn’t, but she might as well take it. See if she could maybe find the owner, or maybe it was contraband and full of bits. Either way, it belonged to her now. She lifted it up, and balanced it on top of her cello, then started away from the tracks, moving through the fog toward the opposite side of the platform.

She found the wall and looked both ways, trying to decide which way might have the exit, when she saw a figure sitting on one of the benches in the mist. She trotted toward them with a smile, pleased to have finally found a local to ask about where she might be. As she got closer and the figure became clear through the fog, her smile faded. It appeared to just be a pile of clothes, filthy and abandoned on the station platform. She walked up and poked it with a hoof, only to have it collapse. A few cockroaches crawled out of it, much to Octavia’s disgust. She continued walking down along the wall, feeling a little bit nervous when she reached the edge of the lamp’s light.

The darkness ahead of her was absolute, filled with nothing but the swirling fog and the occasional noise of the wilderness that must surround the station. That told her she was on one of those many stations in the countryside that were unponied, and you just bought your ticket from a machine nearby. The fact that she was surrounded by wilderness did nothing to comfort her, what with the single lamp being her only companion. How far away would the nearest village be?

The thought gave her an idea, however. If there weren’t any ponies nearby, nopony would mind if she borrowed the lamp. She turned around and went back to the center of the light, where the lantern hung in from a pole far above her. It was pretty high up, so she definitely couldn’t reach it without some help. She would have to climb it, or find something to stand on. She first tried jumping, but that obviously did not work very well at all. She didn’t even make it halfway up to the lantern.

Octavia jumped a couple more times, but was unable to reach the lantern, even with a running start. She thought about standing on her cello case, but didn’t want to risk damaging it or the cello inside. Her saddlebags weren’t solid enough, and the suitcase she was given was too thin. She’d have to climb the pole, then. She looked at the pole, and the ten-foot distance up it to the lantern out at the end of its arm, and she felt a little wary, but nopony ever gained anything by avoiding challenges. She jumped as high as she could and latched onto the pole, then attempted to scramble up the rest of it. She made it a couple inches before losing her grip and sliding back down to the bottom. She tried again and made it slightly further before sliding back down.

“Celestia’s solar arse!” Octavia cursed.

She kicked the lamppost, shaking the light, but it didn’t fall. Not that she really wanted it to. She still wanted the damn thing in working condition when she got her hooves on it. She left her luggage under the lamppost and walked about the edge of the light, looking for something she could use to get it down. She saw the benches, and she considered pulling it out to the post, but it was bolted to the platform. She grabbed it, pulled, yanked, and even bucked it, but it wasn’t giving way.

“RAAAAAH!” She yelled, shaking it as hard as she could, the metal rattling loud in the darkness.

Still nothing. Not even after that outburst. She looked around the rest of the area near the bench. Wall in both directions, disappearing into the darkness on either side. That inky, terribly, foggy darkness she loathed so very much. Not even a pony here to guide her to a hotel or anything. Absolutely terrible service.

She wandered over to the bulletin board, looking at what was on it. It wasn’t going to help her get the lantern down, but she was still curious. Most of the messages were torn, tattered, faded, or otherwise damaged beyond recognition, but from what was still there, somepony was looking for his or her cat, which had gone missing some time ago. Likely a decade or more judging by the condition of the message. Somepony else was teaching piano. Somepony was looking to hire workers for something she could read, and somepony had gone missing. She fiddled with the postings, seeing if there was anything telling her where she was. She pushed a few illegible messages out of the way, and stopped when she found a message behind the rest, that for some odd reason looked newer than the others. It was written on one of those flash cards used in school all the time. Octavia used to use them to help her memorize different notes when she was younger.

“Exit on the rails.” It said.

Octavia looked back at the yellow line that indicated the edge of the platform. At this station it was faded and patchy, not appearing to have been upkept by anypony at all. ‘Exit on the rails’, it read. But what did that mean, exactly? That she should get onto the rails and walk in one direction or the other? That would be stupid. Not only would it head for a very long time without directly hitting a town, it would likely not even intersect with most roads. She’d ridden the train before, and those kinds of intersections were sparse. Most happened down at the frontier near Appleloosa. Did it mean that she should just wait for another train to arrive, because that looked like that’s what she’d be doing. She couldn’t see a bloody thing, and getting lost in an unfamiliar place was a bad idea.

That lead Octavia back to her original goal: Get that lantern.

If she had the lantern, she could carry it with her, make sure she was still on the road itself instead of mistakenly wandering off into the wilderness in the dark. Good way to get eaten by a timberwolf, that. Octavia walked a little bit further down, until she was near the edge of the light, just past the pile of dirty clothes. She squinted as she looked out of her little bubble of light. The fog made it look like more things were moving out there than there actually were. Maybe those were ponies, or maybe those were swirls of light. The most likely option was that they were swirls of light reflected off the fog. If there were other ponies here, it was more likely they would be hanging out underneath the single working streetlamp.

…Unless they liked being in the darkness…

Octavia shivered and stepped away from the shadowy edge. She’d successfully given herself the shivers. Paranoia about the dark sped up her spine and into her throat. She coughed quietly and glanced quickly out into the night. With just a little bit of hurry in her step, she walked back to the streetlamp and stood directly underneath it, waiting for nothing in particular. If a new train came along, would she even be allowed on it? She had no ticket, and she couldn’t find the bloody ticket booth at the Celestiaforsaken station. If this even was a station! Nopony to help, nopony watching the platform for ne’er do wells and other unsavory characters. Maybe if she promised to pay the difference upon arrival? Surely they could make some sort of leniency for that. She had the bits, but she just didn’t have the ticket. She’d happily pay if they could just make it more convenient.

Octavia sat down next to her luggage and waited silently. At first, all that could be heard was the occasional whistling of the chill wind. As time passed, however, Octavia would have sworn that she could hear something else. It was rhythmic, and only happened sometimes, but it seemed to her to be hoofsteps. Light hoofsteps, but hoofsteps nonetheless. Her ears twitched as she strained to hear better, but just when she thought she had picked it up, the wind would whistle, causing her to lose it.

“Is somepony out there?” She called, not sure if she wanted a response or not. “Is there a hotel nearby? Or do you know when the next train will arrive? Please, I’m trying to get to Ponyville.”

When she got no response, she huffed in frustration. It sounded like there was somepony out there, but nopony was responding. The initial fright had given way to immense frustration. If something was out there that wanted to hurt her, surely it would have done so already. Octavia paced back and forth out of boredom, trying to fill her time until the next train’s arrival. After a while she stared up at the lantern again, then kicked the lamppost, then walked in circles around it.

Nothing happened the entire time she was there. Hours must have passed, but nothing gave way to anything interesting. No trains, no gang members out of the fog, no extra lanterns, nopony showed up. Absolutely nothing happened. The worst part was that the sun didn’t rise, nor did the fog dissipate. The fog itself, from her time standing in it waiting, didn’t seem like normal fog, either. It swirled and danced in what felt like wind, but all of it didn’t seem to be going in a single direction. She could see the whorls it made in the lamplight, and it kind of moved in what seemed like a circle.

Octavia went to the edge of the lamplight and looked inward at her luggage. She observed the fog for a moment as it moved sluggishly about her hooves. It moved inward, toward the lantern, but the clouds moved around the right side of the lantern, then turned around and disappeared into the darkness out over the tracks, following a curve that would push them back around to behind her if she had to guess. Which would then push them back under her hooves and into the lantern light. That should only happen if she were inside some sort of room, and not out exposed to the wilderness.

Maybe that was why the sun hadn’t yet risen! She hadn’t seen any grass or anything either! But then where in Tartarus had the fog come from? Was there some sort of accident that was causing the fog? And why did she hear somepony walking about? It seemed to make sense, but there were too many unanswered questions. The only way to answer them would be to… go outside.

Octavia walked slowly back to her luggage, breath caught in her throat. She still hadn’t managed to acquire the lantern, and it was still absolutely pitch dark beyond the edge of her lantern’s little aura. It made her extremely uncomfortable to think about leaving the light, but waiting here wasn’t accomplishing anything. With how thick the fog was, would she even be able to find her way back if she needed to? What if the train came while she was gone and she couldn’t get back in time to get on? It would seem silly that she couldn’t, but the fog prevented her from seeing much, and it really muted what meager light there was to begin with. She could test it though. She could step outside the ring of illumination down the platform in a straight line, then see if she could find her way back from a short distance. That should be easy and safe.

Octavia opened her saddlebags and rummaged through them. She had an ugly scarf that Vinyl had given her as a Hearthswarming gift. She wore it because it was a gift, but at this point in time, she needed something to guide her back. She wasn’t going to take chances. She pulled out the scarf, looking at it solemnly for a moment, thinking about Vinyl. She really wanted to get home. She felt tears welling up, but shook them back. She had to focus, and now was no time to get emotional. She was about to tear it when she remembered: The pile of old clothes!

“Of course!” She exclaimed.

She didn’t have to destroy her own scarf at all! She could just use those moldy old clothes instead. Depending on the material they were made of, of course. She put down the scarf and trotted over to the edge of the light, where the pile of clothing sat on the bench. They were still as disgusting as the first time she touched them, but she hoped most of the cockroaches had left. Gingerly she reached a hoof out and poked the pile. It made a moist sound when she touched it, but nothing else spilled out of the gross mound. She lifted off the top article, and dropped it to the side. That one wasn’t going to be of any use to her, it wasn’t the right type of material. It wouldn’t unravel like she needed. The next one was some sort of thick, material that was extremely tough in places, but cracked in others. It smelled incredibly foul, and had a sheen of moisture on it from the fog. She didn’t know what it was, but she definitely couldn’t use it. It didn’t even seem to have a weave to it at all.

Octavia pulled cloth after cloth out of the pile, looking for one that might unravel like she wanted. Most were too rotten to be of any use. One of them unraveled well enough, but the thread didn’t stay in one piece and would be no use to her. She didn’t want to get out into the darkness and not able to find her way back when the thread snapped at the slightest gust of wind. Finally, however, she found a sweater that looked like it had been hoof-knit, and pulled it out of the pile. The rest of the clothes collapsed sadly as part of their support was removed. She stepped back as the musty mound flopped onto the platform, spilling out a single remaining cockroach. She held up the sweater in front of her and looked at it carefully. Hoof-knit, tight weave, but loose enough to come apart, and… it had her cutie mark on it?

“What in the…”

Octavia looked at the treble clef adorning the front of the sweater, and felt a chill. She shook her head slowly, fear tugging at her, but forced herself to calm down. It was a treble clef, that’s all. It was musical notation, and nothing more. It wasn’t exactly her cutie mark on the sweater, it was just a treble clef. She draped the sweater over a foreleg, kicked the remaining pile of clothes under the bench, and went back to her lamp to work at pulling it apart.

When she approached her luggage, she noticed that her saddlebags had spilled, trailing a line of stuff out toward the darkness. That surge of fear over the sweater came roaring back and raced straight up her spine. She also noticed her scarf was missing, and felt a surge of anger in addition to the terror of something being out there.

“Oh give me a bloody break! It’s bad enough that now I know for certain you’re out there, you tosser, but you feel a need to rob me of a personal bloody gift? If you got a beef with me, bloody show yourself!” Octavia raged. She didn’t leave the safety of the lantern’s light, however.

After she had yelled her peace into the darkness, receiving no response, she plopped down with a huff, put her items back inside the saddlebags. She took a quick accounting of what was there and what was missing, and after a quick mental assessment she determined that not much had actually been taken, if anything other than the scarf. With it being so unnaturally chilly, she could understand why that item had been nabbed first. As she thought about how chilly it was, she realized that she now no longer had her scarf, and she was getting rather tired. There was going to be no way she could sleep comfortably with some sort of protection from the cold. Octavia looked ruefully down at the sweater she had pulled from the rotted pile of clothing. It was big, and felt to be made of wool. Definitely big enough for her to wear comfortably. Maybe even fit her hinds into it if she stretched it a bit, and compared to the rest of the pile, it was fairly clean. She looked over at the pile she’d kicked under the bench, and as if to illustrate her point, it toppled over.

“Ugh, fine.” Octavia said. She slipped on the sweater, pulling it over her head, and slipping her hooves into the sleeves. Her head popped out the far end, and she looked down at herself in it. The treble clef sat directly in the middle of her chest, and the sleeves extended out past the ends of her hooves.

“Feels kinda greasy, but not bad.”

She resolved to take a quick nap, then unravel the sweater and investigate the darkness. She didn’t know how well she could sleep with something out there watching her, but if whoever it was wanted her dead, they would have bloody well done it by now. She wasn’t going to be able to function if she didn’t have sleep. Not to mention food and water. She didn’t feel particularly hungry or thirsty. The thirsty was probably thanks to the damp fog floating about, but she didn’t know what she would do when she got hungry. Eat a cockroach? She gagged at the thought. Either way, she wanted to sleep, so she set her luggage up next to the lamppost, crawled on top of her cello case, and put that stupid suitcase on the outer edge of the pile. If that thing out there wanted to steal something, the suitcase would be easy to take instead of her personal effects. She curled up, pleased that her hinds could fit inside the sweater like she thought. She closed her eyes, cracking them open a few times as she watched for whatever was out there, but she eventually fell asleep.

She was awoken by a scraping sound sometime later, and her eyes snapped open to see some…’thing’, running off with the suitcase she’d planted. It had unnaturally long legs for a pony, and its tail was also strangely long and hung limply down its flank. Its mane was similar; long, limp, and covered the sides of its face, so she could only see it holding the suitcase in its mouth, but nothing else. One thing she did notice, however, was her scarf. Wrapped on top of the tattered and filthy clothes covering its body was her clean, hoof-knit scarf that Vinyl had given her.

“H-hey…!” Octavia blurted, and immediately regretted it.

The thing slightly turned its head, allowing her to see a single eye. The eye, such as it was, was covered by some sort of secondary eyelid, and it squinted as it gazed back at the light and her, there was a noise something like the hissing of steam escaping a pipe, then the thing loped off into the darkness. The clopping of its hooves was muted and seemingly far away as it disappeared into the black, taking her scarf and the suitcase with it. Octavia was silent for another second, frozen in horror and confusion at what she had just seen, but then she realized it was getting away with her scarf and the suitcase.

Octavia opened her mouth and almost shouted after it, but she had no idea what that thing was capable of. Sure, it could have killed her, and it seemed completely unnatural, so who knew how dangerous it was! It was like, twice her height! And if it could survive here, then it must be prepared to live out in that pitch blackness, so it would have the advantage on her there. Should she just sit here, impotent, until it slowly began taking everything away from her? There wasn’t really much she could do about it, really.

Octavia gripped her head in her hooves, trying to think, and she came to yet another realization: This wasn’t an actual train station, this was something far more sinister, and whatever it was, that thing out there knew something. Could it talk, would it talk? Why hadn’t it killed her? Why take that suitcase and her scarf? What was in that suitcase? Why hadn’t she looked? She really should have looked inside it. Maybe it was a bundle of yarn she could have used, or maybe it was some magical artifact that would have helped her escape! Celestia, she was a fool!

Octavia wrung her head in her hooves and felt more tears building up behind her eyes. She tried to hold them back and think clearly, but she was just a mess right now. She started sniffling, and felt tears coming. They were on the edge of her eyes when there was suddenly a bright flash of light out in the darkness. It was coming from the direction the thing had gone. There was a second flash of light, and a low moaning sound. Was something in the suitcase doing that? It sounded like the creature was getting hurt. Maybe there was something to defend herself with in it, and she’d let the creature take it! Octavia looked down at herself, in the frumpy, greasy sweater. She had intended to unravel it and go out there with some way to get back, but if something was happening out there, she couldn’t let this chance go by! Another flash of light and a higher pitched groan came from the darkness, some distance away. It was now or never.

“Alright you tosser, be ready, cause Octavia’s coming for you, r-ready or not!” She said, her voice barely shaking.

She rolled up her sleeves, took a deep breath, and when the next flash happened, she oriented herself, took a look back at the lamppost and started toward the flash. She was nearing the edge of the light when she caught herself slowing down, and forced her pace to quicken, she was almost there when the long sleeves of the sweater slipped down below her hooves, causing her to trip. She fell, tried to catch herself, and cracked her head on the platform. Her vision swam, and she tried to orient herself, but the pain and disorientation was a bit much, and she tripped on the sleeve again, falling head over hooves. as the toj�ڙW+

The Encounters

When next she opened her eyes, Octavia found herself on the very edge of light cast by the lamppost. She pulled herself to a sitting position and glanced frantically about. Where were the flashes? How long was she out? She gave herself a quick once-over, and found that she was still intact. No injuries, and she was still in that ugly sweater. Much to her dismay, there were no more flashes, either. She waited, straining her eyes trying to see in the murk, but there was nothing there. No flashes, no noise, no cries of any kind, and no hoofsteps.

“Well buggerfuck!” Octavia muttered, kicking the ground. She made her way back to the lamppost, cursing herself for a fool.

She sat down next to her cello and stared grumpily off in the direction she thought the thing had run with that suitcase. She didn’t know, and could barely tell anymore. She couldn’t even see which direction the rails were.

Octavia did a double-take. She couldn’t see the rails! She used to be able to! She looked in a circle around her, she couldn’t see the bench anymore either! Everything around her was just black and foggy! That meant… the lantern was going out! That was not good at all, that was the worst thing that could possibly happen! If the lantern went out, she’d have to stumble around blindly in the dark with that thing hanging out watching and waiting for something to happen to her. Or maybe it would finally make something happen to her. It hadn’t seemed really keen on the lantern light, so it might be sensitive to it. The flashes seemed to indicate that as well, given that it was crying out in pain. Or what passed for some sort of pain. She didn’t know if that was actually a pained noise or not. The path was clear, though. She had to get that lantern down and move on before it went out completely!

Octavia looked up at the lantern, pondering. She needed that thing down from there. She had only so much time before everything went dark, and she needed to be out of there. She assessed what she had at her disposal: Sweater, check. Cello, check. Saddlebags… saddlebags? Octavia couldn’t find her saddlebags. She looked under her cello, behind it, and even opened it up briefly to look inside, but all that was in there was her cello and bow. That tosser out there must have taken them while she was unconscious!

“You can just go and bugger yourself, you know that? Why not take the whole mess instead of being such a cunt and stealing one item at a damn time, huh?” Octavia shouted at the darkness.

There was no response, but she could hear hoofsteps out there. Slow, steady, and not too far away, which was actually a little scary. She picked up her cello and hugged it to herself, warily eyeing the swirling fog where it sounded like the hoofsteps were coming from. This was her livelihood. Her work, her hobby, and her talent. Without something to make music with, Octavia was just another earth pony. She could sing, but so could many others, and she wasn’t as good at singing at some ponies were. Her cello was what she had settled on years ago as her instrument of choice, and she’d be damned if it was taken from her without a fight.

“If you want my stuff why not just kill me and take it?” Octavia shouted at her invisible stalker. “You’ve had so many opportunities, just kill me, and then you can have it all! Why are you so desperate to keep me alive? It doesn’t do you any good, and it’s only preventing you from having what you want!”

After saying that, Octavia stopped. Reasons for why started flitting through her head, and all of them came to one conclusion: She was needed alive. For what reason she didn’t know, but she was needed alive. That’s the only possible reason it hadn’t killed her yet. Octavia strapped her cello to her back, looked up at the offending lantern far above her head, then turned to the darkness. There was only one way to test her theory, and she wasn’t going to find it here. She slowly shuffled toward the darkness, until she was at the edge of where she could see her hooves. The fog obscured portions of her vision as it drifted lazily about, thicker clouds wafting here and there. Octavia lifted her hoof and brought it closer to the edge of the light. She jumped as a crash suddenly sounded from behind her, and the sphere of illumination she was in flickered. Octavia spun around quickly to see what had happened, eyes frantically casting about the area she could see.

The lantern had fallen.

Her one source of light in this Celestia-forsaken place had dropped from its hook and crashed to the ground. Thankfully it hadn’t gone out, and in fact was blazing slightly brighter than before, but as she hurried over to it and picked it up, she was alarmed at the implications of that. The remaining oil inside had splashed upward out of the reservoir, and was quickly being consumed by the flame. Octavia opened up the lantern and reached a hoof in, trying to smother it just a little bit, so that it wouldn’t burn down so quickly. She had no success. Worse than no success, she managed to get some of the oil on her ugly sweater, which immediately caught the flame and lit on fire.

“Oh shit!” Octavia yelled, and almost dropped the lantern. She put it down quickly and started patting at her sleeve, trying to smother the flame.

It didn’t go out with the first few pats, so she stomped about a little, trying to get it under her hoof. She dropped to the ground and put her hooves underneath her, then tried to roll. She was stopped by her cello attached to her back, so she unclasped it, sliding it to the side, then rolled about frantically. After a few rolls, she looked at her sleeves, and was relieved to see that the fire was gone. She stood up and looked over to her cello, to see the thing lifting it off the ground where she’d thrown it in her flailing! She didn’t see the suitcase, but it had her saddlebags on, her scarf, and now it was taking her cello! It blinked at her, its violet eyes sparkling eerily in the light, then turned and bounded into the fog.

Octavia had forgotten her fear. It was taking her cello and she was not going to let it get away without a fight! She grabbed the lantern and took off after it! She didn’t know what direction they were headed, and she frankly didn’t care. The train platform had offered nothing except a false sense of security while this beast robbed her of everything. She could hear its hoofsteps just ahead of her, and she followed doggedly after it. The lantern illuminated nothing except the ground, and she dimly registered the platform of the train station changing tile patterns as they ran. She kept following the sounds of the hoofsteps, not noticing the light of her lantern flickering and shrinking until her vision of the platform below her disappeared entirely, leaving her in a small sphere of light, just around her head. The flame flickered pitifully.

Octavia couldn’t see much of anything anymore, but she could still hear the hoofsteps. As she stopped relying as much on her eyes, and more on her ears, it became clearer which direction her assailant was going. She glanced down at the light she was carrying in her mouth and snorted derisively. It was no use to her anymore.

She tossed the lantern aside, and plunged herself into darkness. There was a brief flare of light as it impacted the platform, then, blackness. She opened her eyes wide, thought it helped her not at all, and listened for where the hoofsteps were coming from.

There!

She turned and chased after the sounds of hooves besides her own clopping on the smooth tiles of the station platform. How long it must be, to harbor a chase of this length. She wasn’t going to lose the monster in the darkness, though. Her cello was on the line! That was HER cello, her livelihood, and the thing she cared about most in all of Equestria. It symbolized who she was more than anything else, and she didn’t want some beast getting its hooves all over it.

Suddenly the hoofsteps stopped, and Octavia ran to where she last heard them, but found nothing. She quieted herself down, breathed slowly and carefully, and listened, perking her ears up. She swiveled them left, and right, alternating, trying to hear something, anything, that might give away the crook. She thought she heard a noise, and leaped in the direction it came from, snarling and waving her hooves wildly.

Nothing.

“Damn you! Give me back my things!” Octavia shouted, losing her temper.

She stamped her hooves, yelled inarticulately, and screamed at the fog. It was everywhere, and now it was dark, and she had no idea where she was. She could be on the tracks for all she knew, or she could be in the middle of a town. This infernal fog made it impossible to tell.

Octavia stopped and sat down, trying to relax. She breathed in slowly, then exhaled, calming herself down one breath at a time. She was freaking out and really needed to relax a little bit. Panicking would get her nowhere. As she breathed, she thought about what she could do.

She was in the middle of the fog. She couldn’t see a thing. She could only currently hear wind.

The wind itself, as if to add further insult, was getting colder. It might have been just her imagination, but Octavia felt like the temperature was dropping. The loss of her only light might have something to do with that. With nothing to see anymore but oppressive darkness, it was making her feel like she was colder than she actual was. Still, it would have been nice to feel warm instead.

Octavia’s ear swiveled around backward, and she turned her head. She thought she had heard something! She stood up and carefully stalked toward where the sound had come from. Her head was tilted to the side, since she could only rely on her ears at this point, and she kept the side of her head trained to where the sound was.

She heard it again! A quiet shuffling sound, as if somepony was sneaking about. She carefully and quietly tiphoofed over, and when she thought she was close enough, she struck, leaping at the sound!

She landed in a pile of something soft and slightly slimy. She felt a few small creatures crawl over her in a bid to escape the sudden intrusion of a large pony in their disgusting home.

“Ewwww, gross.” Octavia complained.

She extracted herself from the nasty mess and flung scraps of cloth off her hooves. She reached out and gingerly touched what she had jumped into.

It was a pile of clothes, though that term could only loosely be applied to what she had found. It was a pile, yes, but ‘clothes’ was a maybe. She prodded at it and pulled a few articles free, trying to feel them and see if they might fit. She was still getting really cold, and the sweater just wasn’t doing the job. Even if the items were dirty, she could bathe once she was free of this place and safe at home. She groped and prodded, pulled and subsequently threw away many items, but she found a few that worked. She even took one that was torn and wrapped it around her neck as a makeshift scarf. It felt kind of gross, but she wasn’t cold anymore, and that was one positive thing in this mess she was in.

Now that she was warm, she sat back and listened again, trying to find somepony in the darkness through hearing alone. She sat and waited with her eyes closed, trying to remove the unsettling swirling of the darkness in her vision so that she could better focus on just one sense at a time. There was nothing for quite a while, but eventually she heard an angry voice in the darkness. It sounded impatient and frustrated, but she wasn’t going to complain, that was a voice, and it was a target. If it wasn’t who she was looking for, maybe they would know of some way out of here. Her own little spot at the station was long gone, and she didn’t think she would ever find that post again unless somepony lit the damn place up, so a new place would work fine.

She loped easily off into the darkness. The platform was flat enough that she wasn’t really worried about bumping into a wall or tripping. Her hooves clopping on the tiles gave a nice little echo whenever there were walls nearby, so she could pretty easily avoid them.

Her long legs carried her easily through the darkness, loping along with quiet taps as her hooves lightly hit the platform tiles. She could hear the shouting and angry cursing as she got closer to the source, though she couldn’t see anything yet. She didn’t know if the fog was too thick, or if the pony that was out there didn’t have a light. It wasn’t too far-fetched to assume they didn’t have a light, since her own had burned out after not too long. If they did indeed come from this area, then they would likely have only so long before their own lantern gave up the ghost.

She slowed down as she got closer, trying to triangulate exactly where the pony was at. They didn’t sound like they were too far, so she had to run into them eventually. She stalked around, and around, walking back and forth, back and forth, listening carefully, until she had their position exactly mapped out. They were standing there talking to themselves about something she couldn’t quite understand. The pony was talking really quickly and had a heavy accent, but they seemed confused about something according to the tone of voice. She couldn’t quite be sure if this was the pony she had been following, but she didn’t want to take chances. That thing she had seen that stole her stuff was strange and misshapen, and she didn’t know that she could take it in a fight.

She was about to speak when she heard something that she didn’t think she’d ever hear again: The whistle of a train.

A train was coming? A train was coming! Finally something good was happening! She could leave, go home, albeit without her stuff, but she was going to be safe again! Her friends would help her out with bills until she could get back on her hooves after this miserable experience, and she could start working again. It would be lovely. She just wanted to be gone from this awful place!

She turned her head toward the whistle, but she realized then that she had no idea where to go. All she could see was black, and the whistle was so loud, there was no good way to figure out where it was coming from! If she didn’t find the platform, she was going to miss it! She couldn’t stay stuck here, she needed to get to the train platform! She had assumed she was on it, and the tiles under her hooves had stayed roughly the same since she’d arrived, but was this where it was going to stop? Why was there no light anywhere?!

She focused her ears again, trying to find that pony she had been stalking. She could hear it speaking, sounding relieved and grateful that the train was finally coming. She focused on the voice alone, and walked slowly toward it. If this pony sounded relieved, they were probably in a place they could get on when it arrived. She moved closer, and closer, slowly but surely.

She could hear the train clacking ever nearer, but still there was no light to be seen. Just when she was curious if there ever would be, she took a step forward and a searing pain hit her as a blinding whiteness filled her vision. She snarled and finally heard the voice properly and understood it.

“Hurry the bloody hell up, you tossers! It’s almost bloody caught me!” A feminine voice said.

She heard the train pull up and slowly come to a stop, and she pushed forward again, but the painfully bright light burned her eyes. She blinked, but it did nothing to help the pain. She squinted, and suddenly the light was not quite so bright, and she could faintly see what was happening.

Octavia got on the train, her cello strapped to her back, and her saddlebags affixed to her sides. Vinyl’s scarf was wrapped tightly around her neck as she pushed onto the train, the operator welcoming her inside to safety. In his hooves, he held a bullseye lantern he had trained directly onto the creature following her.

“You buggers took your sweet time. The bloody thing almost caught up with me. Was that the purpose, there, lettin’ me get caught by it?” Octavia said accusingly.

The operator slid the door shut and locked it, then slid the hatch shut on his lantern. His hat was still pulled low on his head, but he smiled out the window, and didn’t say a word.

The creature watched the train forlornly as it slowly pulled away from the dark station. She had no idea what she had just seen, but she knew somewhere, deep down, that she had lost something incredibly important, and she would never get it back. She remembered faces, activities, and other things she knew were important, but were quickly fading from memory.

She wanted to cry, but her new eyes wouldn’t let her, so she just let out a mournful whimper and trudged away into the darkness. Her long, spindly legs carrying her quickly nowhere in particular. She wasn’t cold, her filthy clothing kept her warm, but she didn’t know where to go. There was no sound, no light, and not much beyond the platform itself. Her eyes slowly adjusted to the darkness, and she could see shapes, but there wasn’t much to see. She had been abandoned in a horrible place for reasons she did not understand.

Nothing happened for a time, she just walked and walked. She saw a couple other creatures similar to herself, but she didn’t want to meet them, and they didn’t seem interested in meeting her. She did not eat, drink, nor sleep, and her body never seemed to need it. She just lived, and forgot. One day, she heard a train, and although she didn’t quite understand what it meant, she knew she had to go see it. It was important. Deep down, she knew the train was important. She raced through the darkness, her long legs easily carrying her across the darkness to where the whistle had sounded. The featureless blackness gave way to her, and her eyes guided her eventually to a small pinprick of light, sitting on a unnaturally long train platform placed conspicuously in the black void.

Upon arrival, she saw sitting there in the middle of the pool of light a single pony. Alone, with her luggage stacked neatly under the single lantern in the darkness, she sat. Her silver mane shone in the light as she adjusted her glasses and collar.

There, sitting next to her on the ground, was a single suitcase.

The creature watched, waited, and bided her time. Soon, the silver-haired pony would have to sleep. She could be this pony. Then she could leave this place. All she needed was to dress up as her, and get on the next train out.

So the creature watched, and she waited. And when the pony slept, she crept closer, and took her glasses. She knocked over something and the pony awoke with a start as she made off with the item.

“H-hey…!” Mayor Mare blurted…

THE END.