Somnambula knocked on the door and stepped back. There was not a doubt in her mind that this was the right place--where but this building shaped like confectionary could house Pinkie Pie?

The door exploded open, and a pink blur rushed out, running around Somnambula like a very girly tornado. “HEY-SOMNAMBULA-I-GOTTA-GO-TO-YAKYAKISTAN-AND-THEN-SPEND-THE-NIGHT-WITH-THE-GIRLS-SORRY-I-WASN’T-EXPECTING-YOU-BUT-YOU-CAN-HANG-OUT-WITH-MY-FAMILY-MY-SISTERS-ARE-UPSTAIRS-SORRY-AGAIN-GOTTA-GO!” Before Somnambula could even blink, Pinkie Pie had shot off as if out of a cannon.

After a brief pause, she managed to process the words that had flown past her so quickly. She shouldn’t have shown up unannounced--Pinkie Pie was busy doing something with her friends, which involved, for some reason, a very long trip. But at least part of her family was upstairs, so Somnambula trotted inside and looked for a staircase. This was made more difficult by the fact that the interior didn’t look anything like a residence, but more like a business. That, however, was something Somnambula knew about. Many of the ponies in her town--it still embarrassed her to think of it having her name--had their homes and businesses in the same buildings.

The pony in front of the counter, a plump and motherly mare with blue fur and a spiral of pink hair, leaned forward with a smile. “What can I getcha?”

Somnambula waved. “My name is Somnambula. I am a friend of Pinkie’s, and she told me to come in here to meet her family. I assume you are her mother?”

The mare laughed. “No, actually! A lot of ponies assume that when they first see me, though. Nah, her actual family is upstairs, her sisters, at least. If she sent you, you can head on up. Come around the counter.”

Somnambula obediently trotted around. She could have flown, but something told her that was slightly rude. The pony opened a door behind the counter, showing her the staircase. “All the way up, dear.”

“Thank you.”

As Somnambula mounted the stairs, she knocked once on the side of the stairwell before entering the room at the top, despite the fact that it had no actual door. A pale grey pony let out a startled “Eep!” at the sound and darted behind another pony, slightly darker grey with a purple mane. A third pony, equally grey, levelled an accusing hoof in Somnambula’s direction. “Who are YOU?”

There must have been some misunderstanding, surely. These ponies could never be related to Pinkie Pie. “My name is Somnambula,” she introduced for the second time in mere minutes. “I am a friend of Pinkie Pie, and she directed me here to find her sisters?” The questioning tone implied there must be some mistake, without insulting outright.

The pony who’d spoken merely grunted, and the purple-haired one said, “That’s us,” in the flattest tone Somnambula had ever even imagined.

“Oh? Could you introduce yourself?”

The same pony touched her chest. “I’m Maud. That’s Limestone, and Marble is…” She turned around to see the third mare, trying unsuccessfully to hide behind her. “...there.”

“Your name is… Maud Pie?”

“That’s right.”

“Hmm.” Perhaps these strange ponies could be related to Pinkie Pie after all. Maud Pie was something of a pun, which was, technically, humor. “Are you all of her family?”

Maud shook her head. “We’re just the ones who were here at the time. The rest of the family is over at the Apple farm.”

“Is that so?” Somnambula tilted her head. “The Apple farm, as in Applejack? Why are they there?”

Limestone grunted again. “Because there’s a really small chance we’re really distantly related to them.”

“Mm-hmm,” Marble whispered, barely audible.

“Fascinating! Then I would love to meet the rest of the family! Pinkie Pie told me I could spend the day with you.” Imagine if they disagreed with Pinkie Pie. That would be so awkward.

“Any friend of Pinkie’s is a friend of ours,” Maud said, still as dryly and blandly as the modern invention known as ‘cardboard’. “We’d be happy to have you.” She started trotting, and the others followed after her. Somnambula got the impression that Maud was something of the leader of these three strange mares.

“So,” she said, as they began the walk across Ponyville, “tell me a little bit about yourselves.”

Maud responded first. “We farm rocks.”

“Really? I have never heard of anypony who farmed rocks.” There it was, the thread of something interesting that would enable her to start a conversation. “How does that work?”

Maud blinked slowly. “The rocks grow in the ground. We harvest them.”

“But how do they grow?” Somnambula pushed.

“I don’t know. We just harvest them.”

That was a dead end. Very well. “What do you do in your free time?”

“I farm rocks. I study rocks. Oh, and sometimes I write poetry.”

“Poetry?” Somnambula asked, excitement rising again. Poetry was good. Poetry was interesting. “About what?”

“Rocks, mostly.”

Somnambula sighed and turned to the others. “Marble, what about you? What do you like doing?”

The mare whimpered and tried to make herself look small. Somnambula opened her mouth to try to ask again, but thought better of it. She didn’t want to push the poor pony. If she was that shy, just walking through the crowds of ponies drifting through Ponyville must be stressful for her.

“How about you, Limestone? What do you like?”

“Rocks,” Limestone grunted.

Figures, Somnambula thought, but she had to admit Limestone gave off a different feeling than Maud when she said it. Maud just sounded bland, like rocks were truly the only thing she was interested in. Limestone seemed more like she was saying it to get Somnambula to leave her alone. Fine, then, if that was what she wanted. Somnambula certainly wasn’t going to push her to do something she didn’t want to do… even if she found herself wondering, again, how in Equestria these ponies could possibly be related to Pinkie Pie.

Suddenly she hissed and ducked behind a cart. “What is it?” Maud asked, with barely enough inflection for her to realize it was a question.

She leaned out slightly and jabbed a hoof. “Discord,” she spat. He seemed to be with Flash Magnus’s friend, what was her name? Rainbow Dash, that was it. How had he coerced her to come with him?

“Don’t freak out. He’s cool now.”

“Cool? Cool? The overlord of chaos is ‘cool’?”

Maud nodded very slightly. “They made friends with him, about… how long do you think, Marble?”

“Mm…”

“Yeah, that sounds right. About three years ago.”

“Just like that?” Somnambula asked.

“Just like that. See? He and Rainbow are cool.”

Somnambula peeked out again. They seemed to be arguing, but not in the way they would if she saw him as a threat. How strange. The world had certainly changed since she’d left it. “I suppose I still have much to get used to.”

“Can we go, please?” Limestone snapped.

Somnambula nodded and trotted on again, following their lead. Again, she headed to Maud’s side. She might appear to be the blandest pony alive, but she was still the only one who would talk to Somnambula. “Do you have any other hobbies?”

“I’ve been branching out a bit recently. My friend Starlight is teaching me to fly kites.”

“Oh, really? What’s that like?”

Maud shrugged. “Pretty cool, I guess. If you want to know about kites, you should talk to her. She knows more about them than I do. I mostly just know rocks.”

Of course she did. That shouldn’t have surprised Somnambula at all.

“Look,” Limestone grunted. “We’re here.”

Thank the Heavens. She wasn’t sure how much more she could handle trying to talk to these ponies.

They trotted in the door of the house. “Hey,” Maud said. “We brought a friend of Pinkie’s.”

Somnambula waved. “My name is Somnambula,” she said yet again.

A brown stallion and grey mare looked her over. “Thou art most welcome,” the stallion said.

“Maud!” a filly shouted, galloping over to hug her. “It’s so good to see you!”

Somnambula couldn’t be certain, but she thought she saw Maud’s face curl into the tiniest of smiles. “It’s good to see you, too, Apple Bloom. I heard you got your Cutie Mark.”

“Yeah! Right here!” The filly turned, displaying her flank to Maud.

“Looking good. Congratulations.”

Somnambula’s mouth dropped. This Apple Bloom had gotten her cutie mark recently--at the very least, she’d gotten it since she’d last met Maud. And the mare couldn’t even muster some enthusiasm?

“Yeah, isn’t it great?” Apple Bloom turned back to Maud, beaming. “Hey, is your coltfriend coming? Pinkie’s told me all about his cutie mark. Is it true that it’s a pun?”

Maud made a tiny movement that might have been a shake of the head. “He had to spend Hearth’s Warming with his family in Manehattan. But I can try to bring him around later. As for his cutie mark, all that I can say is that it really rocks.”

Apple Bloom fell over giggling. “Cease thy childish prattling,” the older mare with glasses said sternly. “Maudalina, we require thy assistance with the rock soup--thy and thy sisters.”

Obediently, the three Pie girls trotted after her into the kitchen, crowding another group of ponies out. There was a large red stallion, an elderly green mare, a yellow stallion (also elderly), and a young pink unicorn, the only one who wasn’t an earth pony in the house, as far as Somnambula could tell. Her cutie mark was a cupcake. Again, Somnambula thought she seemed more likely to be related to Pinkie Pie than any of the others. She was nuzzling the red stallion affectionately.

“Eh?” the old mare asked. “And who’s that? Didn’t think we were expectin’ no more guests.”

“Granny, this is Somnambula!” Apple Bloom burst out. “She’s a friend of Pinkie’s, one o’ them Pillars!”

“Well, any friend of Pinkie is welcome to stay here!” The mare smiled and extended a hoof. Somnambula shook it gently, noting well how fragile it felt. The life expectancy in Equestria had been greatly extended since her return, but that meant many more ponies survived long enough to become quite frail. She wasn’t, as yet, completely comfortable around them, knowing how careful she had to be.

“The name’s Granny Smith,” she continued, “and this old sod is Grand Pear.”

“No older than yourself!” he teased back, smiling.

Granny Smith accepted the hit. “Ooh, I’ve been standin’ too long. Apple Bloom, pull up a chair. These old bones need a rest.”

Apple Bloom obediently pulled a large, soft chair right over by the fire. The unicorn’s horn ripple with magic, and a second chair glided across the floor for Grand Pear. “Thank ya kindly,” he said, sitting down with a sigh of relief.

“And… you two?” Somnambula asked, a little bit awkwardly. Was it rude to ask for introductions? Was she supposed to wait for them to introduce themselves?

“I’m Sugar Belle,” the unicorn said with a smile, “and that fine stallion there is Big Macintosh.”

The stallion giggled, blushing slightly. “Eeyup.” His voice was deep and strong. If he wasn’t taken, Somnambula felt, she wouldn’t be opposed to calling him fine indeed.

“It’s nice to meet you.” Again, she held out her hoof for a shake.

Big Macintosh took it in his firm grip and shook it solidly. “Eeyup.”

Sugar Belle shook it next, more gently. “It’s nice to meet you, too. Somnambula, right?”

She nodded, but had no time to respond before the filly--Apple Bloom--waylaid her again. “Hey, Somnambula, what’s your cutie mark? It’s kinda hard to see under that little veil thing you’ve got.”

Somnambula took her wing and flipped up her thin skirt to reveal her mark. It was a curve of gold, a crescent like the moon, but flipped on its side. On each point, two spheres of white were balanced delicately.

“Ooh, abstract,” Apple Bloom said. “What’s it mean?”

“Well, the crescent symbolizes hope.” Somnambula traced the curve with her hoof. “It’s on my crown as well, see? The pearls mean persistence, because that’s what it requires to get them. You ponies now have your… it is called ‘scuba’, yes? But in my time, the only way to get pearls was to hold your breath for a very long time, and not every oyster yielded rewards. And so it required a very dedicated pony to get a reasonable number of pearls. Taken all together, it means I never give up, because I always believe it is possible to succeed.”

“Woah,” Apple Bloom said. “That’s so neat! Thanks, Somnambula!”

As the filly galloped off, Somnambula glanced around the room. Granny Smith had fallen asleep, and Grand Pear looked on the verge of it. Sugar Belle and Big Macintosh had retreated to a corner and were deep in conversation--surprising, since Somnambula had barely gotten two words out of him. Apple Bloom was writing something in a notebook, and Somnambula caught a glimpse of a rough sketch of her own cutie mark. The Pie side of the family was still in the kitchen.

So, let us take inventory, she thought. We have the two ponies so old a single fall could break them and the ponies who use language older than I. There is the stallion who barely speaks except to his marefriend, the mare who barely speaks at all, the mare whose single interest is rocks, and the mare who looks as though she would break me to pieces as soon as look at me. And to round it all out, there is the filly who talks of nothing but cutie marks. Thank you very much, Pinkie Pie.

Don’t be ridiculous, she scolded herself. What did you just tell Apple Bloom? You never give up. Such a rapid judgement of the situation does not befit you. Every pony is interesting and worth getting to know. Come now, Somnambula, make conversation. Learn more about them!

She trotted over to Big Macintosh and Sugar Belle. They were sitting side by side by a window, enjoying the view. He had his arm around her shoulder, and she was leaning against him. “I hope I’m not interrupting anything.”

Sugar Belle smiled easily. It didn’t seem fake. “Of course not. Won’t you join us?”

“I would be delighted.” She seated herself. “I wish to get to know you better. What do you do, Sugar Belle? Big Macintosh, I am sure, helps his sister in the orchard.”

“Eeyup.”

“I’m a baker,” Sugar Belle said.

Simple enough, but that was not a conversation. “Really? What is your favorite thing to bake?”

“I like muffins, cupcakes, any of those sorts of things. I’m sure you noticed-” She wiggled her flanks. “-my mark is a cupcake. But I especially love branching out and trying new things. And thanks to a certain somepony, I’ve been baking a lot with apples.” She nuzzled Big Macintosh.

“Oh? Tell me about your latest creation.”

“My most recent experiment isn’t much to write home about, honestly,” Sugar Belle admitted. “All I did was add a pinch of nutmeg to my apple-cinnamon muffins, and I can’t believe I didn’t try it sooner! But if you want to hear about my most interesting attempt…”

“...and that’s when all the air bubbles popped at once, and batter flew everywhere!” Sugar Belle said, to hearty laughter from both Big Macintosh and Somnambula. “I swear, I was picking it out of my mane for days, and you don’t even want to know the places I found it, even months later! Under the fridge, under the stove, it was all over the place!”

Somnambula wiped a tear of laughter from her eye. “Allow me to guess that you did not repeat that experiment?”

Sugar Belle giggled. “Of course I did! Once I knew what to watch out for, I could put a lid on it, and that was that. Unfortunately, that still didn’t save the recipe, because without any air inside, it was just so dense! Tasted great, but you could hardly swallow the stuff.”

Granny Smith, who had been snoring peacefully during the story, suddenly jerked awake. “Huh-wha? What time is it?”

Apple Bloom glanced at a clock over the fireplace. “Uh… ‘leven thirty.”

“Buh? We should’ve been in there ten minutes ago!” Granny Smith sprang up, or at least tried to. After a few tries, she finally got to her hooves. “We ain’t got no time to waste! C’mon, Sugar Belle! The kitchen is callin’!” She trotted to the doorway. “Hey, Pies! Outta the kitchen! It’s our turn!”

They filed out. Cloudy Quartz was last, and stood in the doorway a moment. “We shall depart, but only if thou payst as much mind to our cooking as to thine own. The soup must be stirred every few minutes, is that clear to thee? Thou must not allow it to burn upon the bottom of the pan!”

“Yeah, yeah, I hear ya,” Granny Smith grumbled. “Soup on Hearth’s Warmin’, honestly!” she muttered to herself, more quietly.

Somnambula eyed the Pies eagerly. After one successful conversation with Big Macintosh and Sugar Belle, she couldn’t wait to get to know some of the others better. She approached Pinkie Pie’s parents first. “I did not get much introduction earlier,” she said. “Please, could you tell me more about yourselves?”

“Of course,” Pinkie Pie’s father said. “Thou mayest know anything which thou desirest.”

“Well, first…” Somnambula blushed slightly. “I apologize, but could you remind me of your name?”

“Thou mayest know me as Igneous Rock Pie, and my wife as Cloudy Quartz.”

She nodded. “Somnambula. A pleasure. And… how did the two of you meet?”

Cloudy Quartz smiled. “We were paired by the Choosing Stone, and betrothed within a fortnight. A fate distasteful to some,” she added upon seeing Somnambula’s face, “but the Stone is never wrong. Our marriage is a happy one.”

“I certainly have no right to judge,” Somnambula admitted. “Please, do tell me more about this Stone. Is it an enchantment? What sort of stone is it?”

They shared an uncertain glance. “We do not profess to be experts upon sorcery and enchantment, but perhaps we may be able to satisfy thy curiosity,” Igneous stated. “Art thou magically adept?”

She shrugged modestly. “I have a few spells to my name. My compatriots have more. But yes, I possess a good knowledge of the basics of spellcraft, though the field has advanced much since last I studied it. How recently was this Choosing Stone enchanted?”

Igneous stroked his beard. “Mere centuries. It is no ancient artifact. It is a simple obsidian, yet the sorcery laid upon it is sufficient to allow it to plumb the depths of a pony’s heart, usually a mare. Once they have laid hoof upon it, it is attuned to them, and must then be passed from pony to pony until it finds their match. When it reaches the one who is destined to be betrothed to she who started it all, they shall feel it in their bones, the deep, unshakeable certainty that they and no other are meant to be together with that mare for eternity, till death do them part or beyond.”

Somnambula’s eyes widened as she took in the information. “But this is fascinating! I’ve heard that only crystals can be enchanted with any degree of reliability. The most current theories of my time believed it was due to their refractive tendencies. Do you know what sort of properties cause the obsidian to hold magic?”

Cloudy Quartz said, “Of the properties of crystal we are not ignorant. How could we be so, and yet claim to know rocks? ‘Tis true indeed that crystals best hold magic, but not from refraction. Indeed, both their refraction and their magic stem from the same source, a regular structure within.”

Igneous took over. “But the very same regular structure is found within obsidian, odd though such things may seem. It contains the magic quite well, though it gives off no glow of energy.”

“How strange.” Somnambula tapped her chin. “Perhaps I shall look into this. It would make an excellent way to begin examining the new magic that has arisen since I was gone, as well as an interesting way of passing the time. Has it any other properties of note?”

“None that we find of note,” Cloudy Quartz admitted, “but the only things important to us are the material of the Stone and the task which it accomplishes. Others, more magically adept, may tell thee more. We will not pretend to know the answers to all questions thou wouldst wish to ask of the Stone, nor even the questions themselves.”

Somnambula nodded respectfully. “It is rare that I find one who does not seek to answer all questions posed of them. It is wise of you.”

Igneous inclined his head. “We thank thee for thy respect, but fear it may be misplaced.”

“Wisdom and humility,” she commented. “An excellent combination. It was my pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

“And ours thine.”

Somnambula nodded once more, a respectful nod, almost a bow, and she trotted away. With Maud she had already spoken at length, though she suspected there might be something to the mare that she had yet to learn, but she was not inclined to try to find it just at the moment. Instead, her steps turned to Marble, who by all she’d learned was the youngest of the group.

“Marble?”

The mare retreated behind her hair. “Mm?” she whimpered.

Somnambula seated herself, not uncomfortably close. “I do not wish to disturb you. I would like to make your acquaintance more fully, but if you prefer to remain alone, I will not object.”

“Mm… mm-hmm.”

Somnambula tilted her head. “Is that an agreement for me to join you?”

Marble nodded softly. “Mm-hmm,” she said, slightly more assertively.

Somnambula smiled in relief. “Thank you.” She infused her voice with as much gratitude as she could, to show that she understood this was hard for Marble. “Would you mind… telling me about your cutie mark?”

“Marble,” the mare whispered--the most she’d said yet. This was a good sign.

“I can see that,” Somnambula agreed. “Does it represent the stone known as marble, or the small round toys? Both?”

“Mm-hmm. I like to make marbles out of marble.”

“That sounds wonderful!” Again, Somnambula decided to steer the conversation to physical properties of rocks. If nothing else, it was surely a topic the Pies could discuss at length. “What makes marble--the rock--good for such a use?”

“W-well…” Marble took a deep breath. “It’s a pretty soft rock, so it’s good for carving, but it’s not so soft or brittle that it won’t keep its shape. You can polish any stone, but marble is one of the best, and it gets really smooth and shiny, so it won’t catch on anything. And it’s really pretty! Ponies like to use it in counters and buildings. Plus, I really like the worldplay.” She clapped her hooves over her mouth, as if in surprise that she’d said so much.

Somnambula smiled proudly. “That’s really interesting!” she said supportively. This might be the first time Marble had said much to anypony outside her family in years, or maybe ever. It was important to keep her relaxed during these first steps. If she ever acted like Marble had said too much, it was over. “Do you play games with these marbles, or are they decorative?”

“Oh, I wouldn’t play marbles with my marbles! That game makes the poor marbles knock all into each other. I don’t want them to get hurt!”

“So if I ever see you playing marbles with your marbles, I’ll know you’ve lost your marbles.” Somnambula shot Marble Pie a wink, and after staring uncertainly for a moment, she giggled.

My work here is done. Somnambula stood and stretched. “It was wonderful to meet you, Marble! I have many others I wish to get to know, but I would be happy to talk with you some more later.”

“Mm-hmm!” Marble waved cheerfully as Somnambula trotted away.

A sudden roaring shook the foundations of the humble farmhouse, and Somnambula galloped to the window, even flapping her wings to boost her speed. Outside, there was a strange creature that seemed to be growing even as she watched, with white fur and huge eyes. It already towered over any pony. She could make out two dim shapes--a tall, mostly brown shape, and a smaller blue blotch. “Discord,” she growled. “What is he doing now?”

“I wouldn’t worry,” said a voice at her shoulder, making her jump. Grand Pear stood beside her, looking out at the scene. “Rainbow Dash is there. She and the others will have it worked out in no time.”

“So… I shouldn’t try to help?”

He shrugged. “Why bother? She’ll figure it out.”

“She is running away,” Somnambula pointed out.

“But towards the castle! That’s where the Elements of Harmony are. They’ll handle it. They always do.”

“...does this sort of thing happen often?”

“Oh, you have no idea.” He sat down, watching as the creature disappeared into the night. “When I first moved here, I was worried every time some monstrous creature or terrible calamity came on the town. But it didn’t take me long to learn that that’s just how things work ‘round here.”

“Just how things work?”

Grand Pear nodded. “Every week or so. A month at the most. Some calamity arises. The Elements fix it. It’s routine. We all just hope it doesn’t affect our lives too much. If it does, everyone will pitch in to rebuild.”

Somnambula sat next to him. “Huh.” There was a brief but companionable silence, but she decided she ought to learn more about him. “What brought you to Ponyville?”

“Brought me back to Ponyville. I lived here a long time ago. But the short answer is family.”

“And the long answer?”

Grand Pear drooped a little. “It’s not an easy tale.”

“Oh, I don’t want to press!” Somnambula said immediately. “If you don’t want to talk about it, I understand.”

He waved her off. “Nah, I should tell you. They say old folk should pass their wisdom on to those younger than them, so they don’t make the same mistakes.”

She sputtered. “I’m over a thousand years old!”

“And you’ve actually lived twenty-odd. Just ‘cause a young whippersnapper like you is out of their time don’t mean you’re older than me.”

“Thirty-odd, but I’m flattered.”

He settled in a little better and began his story. “When I lived here, years and years ago, I was a pear farmer…”

“...So, in the end, I managed to reunite with my family… or what was left of it.” He wiped a tear away. “Take a lesson from my book, kid, and learn it the easy way. Anger and vengefulness will only destroy your life.” He grunted. “Not that you look like you need it.”

Glimpses of the past flashed through Somnambula’s mind, images of jumping to conclusions, of Stygian’s hurt face, of darkness consuming him. “I don’t know about that.”

“Make things right, if they’re not already. You never know how much time you’re losin’.”

She smiled. “Things are right, now. But thank you. I’ve often found that the ponies who have lived longer upon this world have the most to share… though some I could name would serve as a rebuttal. It’s certainly not a definitive rule.”

He nodded. “Sure took me long enough to figure it out.”

Granny Smith appeared in the doorway of the kitchen. “Soup’s on, everypony!” she called. There was a general clamour as everypony galloped to the dining room, stopping along the way to pick up a completed dish and carry it to the table. Somnambula grabbed a pie and balanced it on her back using her wings.

As she approached the table, she glanced over the seats. So far, she still hadn’t talked to Maud, Limestone, and Big Macintosh. She seated herself near Big Macintosh, and to her delight, Limestone sat on her other side. Now she could talk to both of them! She just had to be careful to deliberately keep Big Macintosh in the conversation and not let herself get lost talking to just Limestone, as she had with Sugar Belle.

She would start with a question for both of them. “So, you both work on farms, correct? What sort of roles do each of you play?”

They each looked at the other, as if expecting them to answer first. Finally, Limestone spoke. “I practically run the place. I keep everypony organized and on track. And most importantly, I keep anypony who might wanna mess with the farm off of it.”

Well, that certainly explained her gruff attitude. If she had to corral the wide variety of oddities and quirks the rest of her family had, and she saw herself as the defender of the farm, no wonder she would want to be harsh. “And you, Big Macintosh?”

He shrugged. “Ah’m the muscle. Do the heavy liftin, the hard pullin’. Ah don’t buck much, ‘cause if Ah ain’t careful Ah could break the trees.”

Yes! She’d coaxed actual sentences out of him! This was going excellently.

“Heh,” Limestone said. “All of us are the heavy lifting at our farm. None of us are much stronger than the others. Maybe Maud has Marble and I beat, by a little bit.”

Big Macintosh glanced between the three sisters with a critical eye. “Eeyup,” he agreed.

“What about Pinkie Pie?” Somnambula asked.

“Pinkie?” Limestone scoffed. “She’s barely touched the farm since she got her cutie mark, and she eats nothing but sugar.” She passed a kettle of soup, and Somnambula scooped some into her bowl. “Get a rock, too,” Limestone advised. “They’re the best part.”

Somnambula shrugged, but did as she suggested. “So you would say Pinkie is the weakest one of you? Physically, at least?”

Limestone paused. “Well, I don’t know about that. I’ve seen her run through a brick wall, completely unfazed. But I will say that I haven’t seen her lifting a boulder or splitting a rock in a long time.”

Somnambula shrugged and turned back to Big Macintosh. “What’s the hardest thing you’ve ever had to lift, or move, or something else related to your strength?”

He pondered that for a moment. “Ah’d say it was that huge boulder, down in the West Orchard. We needed to expand the orchard, but it was in the way. Took two days to break it into manageable pieces, and two more to move ‘em.”

Somnambula’s eyes grew wide. “That sounds like a struggle indeed.”

“Eeyup.”

Somnambula took a sip of the soup. “It’s sweet?”

Limestone nodded. “It’s an old earth pony recipe. Technically magical, and goes out of hand if the ingredients aren’t exactly balanced, but the rocks sorta neutralize it. I don’t know the exact science or anything.”

“Hmm.” Somnambula tried another spoonful, this time analyzing the flavor more closely instead of simply being surprised that it was sweet. The main flavor was peppermint, but she could also taste hints of gingerbread and cinnamon, and behind it all was a rich, earthy flavor that seemed to ground the mixture. Perhaps it was the rocks. Overall, the entire dish tasted exactly like Hearth’s Warming felt. “It is delicious.”

Limestone grunted. “Thank Mom. She does it best. She’s trying to teach it to us, but we always mess it up so far.”

“Which of you is best at it?”

“Marble,” Limestone said without hesitation. “Pinkie’s better when she’s here, but Marble came much closer than anypony else this time. Then Mom took all of our attempts, fixed them, and put them together so there was just one soup. If you got poison, it was probably mine.” Somnambula sputtered, but Limestone laughed. “Kidding!”

Big Macintosh laughed, too. Then Limestone leaned over to ask him a question, and Somnambula took the opportunity to sample all of the delicious food. She was particularly fond of the apple pie, but with a baking expert and a whole family of apple experts working on it, it was no wonder it had turned out absolutely flawless.

“What is this?” she asked, when an unfamiliar dish was passed towards her.

“Seven-layer bean dip!” Big Macintosh said, smiling. “Granny’s favorite.”

Somnambula glanced around, but saw no chips, which Pinkie Pie had informed her always came with dip. “What are you supposed to dip in it?” she asked uncertainly.

“Do we look like a fancy place?” Limestone growled. “Use your hooves!”

“You want me to dip my hooves in the bean dip?”

“You’re darn tootin’!” called Granny Smith from the head of the table.

Somnambula shrugged. “Well, if you are sure.” She reached in and scooped up a helping onto her hoof and passed the dish along, then spent the next few minutes licking bean dip off her hoof. It was quite good dip, and not particularly diminished by the absence of chips. Fascinating.

After the meal had finished, they trotted out to put up their Hearth’s Warming dolls, an event for which Somnambula was woefully underprepared. Granny Smith had knit dolls for the Pies, since they had none of their own, but she didn’t have anything for Somnambula. “We just didn’t know you were comin’, sorry!”

“It isn’t your fault. I really should have sent ahead.” Somnambula shrugged. “It’s no matter.”

“No matter?” Granny Smith snorted. “Not havin’ a Hearth’s Warmin’ doll? You bet it’s a matter!”

“Mm?” Marble offered, holding something up.

Somnambula turned and gasped. “When did you do this?”

“I knew you wouldn’t have a doll,” Marble whispered, hiding her face behind her hair again. “So I took an extra rock from the soup… it’s how we do dolls at our house…”

Somnambula turned the figure around and around in her hooves. It was a dark rock, but seemed polished somehow--with what? Soup? The carving was rough, but the design was unmistakable. “I don’t know what to say.” She hugged Marble, who blushed. “Thank you!”

She took it gently in her wing and set it next to the other dolls. It looked a small bit strange to have a stone figure with all the crocheted, soft dolls, but she smiled nonetheless. It was just a reminder of the kindness and generosity, and as far as she was concerned, there could never be too many reminders of such things.

She turned around and discovered Maud was standing right next to her. “Ahh!”

“Hey, Somnambula,” the mare said, in as dry a tone as ever. “You’re from Southern Equestria, right?”

“...yes?”

“Where do you go when your back hurts?”

“Uh…”

Maud leaned forward. “A Cairo-practor.”

Somnambula blinked several times before it clicked, and a sudden giggle burst out of her throat. “How long have you been working on that one?”

“Since our first conversation. I was really nervous that you might not know what a chiropractor was.”

Somnambula tilted her head. “You certainly didn’t look nervous.”

Maud nodded almost imperceptibly. “You might not have noticed, but I don’t show emotion very well.”

I noticed, Somnambula thought. “Or maybe you’re just in de-Nile,” she suggested.

Maud blinked slowly. “Pharoah point.”

“Hmm? Oh! Fair- I get it.” She laughed awkwardly. Now she could see how Maud was related to Pinkie Pie. “Um… Sounds like a pyramid scheme to me?”

The tiniest corner of a smile appeared on Maud’s face. “You might be trying too hard.”

“Maybe a little,” Somnambula agreed easily. She sat down, feeling the warmth of the fire creep up her tail. “So, Maud… I hear you are friends with Starlight Glimmer.”

“Yeah.”

She tapped a hoof. It was an odd subject of conversation, but she had a feeling about it. “Can you tell me more about her? I only met her briefly.”

“Sure.” Maud sat next to her. “Starlight likes kites, but she likes magic more. She’s really good at it.” Was that a tone of admiration? It was hard to tell. “She’s willing to do anything if she thinks it’s right. Sometimes she’s wrong, but she always pushes through. She always thinks out of the box. To her, no solution is off the table. She’s gotten me into situations I would never have thought I would be in and out again, and she’s always confident.” The smile became just a tiny bit more defined. “She’s so cool.”

Score. To a lot of ponies, the other ponies in their lives were their favorite things to talk about. Somnambula had been worried about whether Maud, seemingly so reserved, would fit that trend, but she shouldn’t have been. Maud felt just as much emotion as anypony, Somnambula understood that now. “And Pinkie Pie? I know so little about her.”

Maud’s smile grew even more definite, and she looked off into the distance, as if seeing something Somnambula couldn’t. “Pinkie is amazing. She saves Equestria regularly, but she thinks that her greatest accomplishment is just making other ponies happy. And she’s stubborn. No matter how grumpy or stern somepony seems on the outside, she believes in the good in them. She’ll never stop trying until she’s made them happy.” Her gaze landed on Somnambula. “You’re a lot like her.”

“Me?” After that glowing description, how could Somnambula help but be flattered?

“I saw your expression when we were walking. You had no idea how to talk to me. Or any of us. You thought we were all boring. But look at you now. You’ve made friends with everypony in this room.” She waved a hoof. “You were stubborn enough to find the bright spot in each of us. I like you, Somnambula.”

Somnambula couldn’t help but blush. “I think you’re just the same way.”

“Me?” A fraction of doubt crept into Maud’s voice, barely noticeable. “I don’t talk to ponies a lot. I always seem to mess it up.”

“Yes, but-” Somnambula thought for a moment, trying to word it just right. “I thought I was being quite inconspicuous with my frustration, yet you saw it easily. You may not emote well, but you’re quite excellent at reading the emotions of others. And yet, though you can see a great deal about the ponies around you, you have nothing but praise for them. If Pinkie Pie and I are great at seeing the good in ponies, you, Maud, are nothing short of a master.”

Maud’s mouth was almost in an actual smile now, but she said nothing. There didn’t seem to be much more to say, without resorting to platitudes. So she and Somnambula sat together in silence, but it was a friendly silence. As Somnambula glanced around the room, she saw that after the bustle getting dinner ready, everypony was completely relaxed. They sat around the room, chatting away in small groups.

So, let us take inventory, Somnambula thought again. There are the grandparents and the parents, two pairs full of wisdom and experience. There are the stallion who speaks only when he has something to say and his marefriend, a sorceress of the highest degree in the kitchen, with many great stories of experimentation. A shy mare, but a generous one; a mare who keeps an entire farm running and protects it from harm; and a mare who sees only things to love in the ponies that surround her, though she may struggle to express it. And finally, there is a filly with a passion for cutie marks, who seeks to learn about as many as she can.

She smiled. Thank you very much, Pinkie Pie.

Author's Note

One of my favorite traditions of the year is Jinglemas, a yearly secret santa story exchange. Choose a character or two, and someone will write a story about them! When it came time to draw names, I drew Oroboro. An author with more than 30 times my number of subscribers, and creator of the Sunset Shimmer Shipping Contest. No pressure or anything.

To make things worse, I forgot to change the title of this story, and submitted it with its placeholder name. I'm leaving the placeholder up for now, so that he can find it again if he wants to, but I'm currently taking suggestions for name changes. My two best ideas so far are "A Rocky Start" and "Pies and Apples and... Somnambula?" They're okay titles, but they don't really pop, y'know?

Edit: Meridian Prime has suggested that I try using a pun based on Egypt and Christmas. Please direct all complaints to him, this was his idea. (I've kept up the original Author's Note so people have context for his comments.)