Chapters On the third floor of Sugar Cube Corner, in the gray moments before dawn, Gummy the tiny alligator pressed himself against his window. Below, the silent Ponyville Marketplace spread out beneath him, but this morning he looked outward and beyond the familiar sights he knew.
Silver light glittered faintly upon the water. The Ponyville River! This morning, the River called to him as never before. He felt it in his blood, a song of drums and pipes, pounding in his heart, thundering through his veins. A song sweet and intoxicating. Compelling.
He sat back and glanced to his left. THE PRETTY PINK THING’s bed was empty, of course. She was downstairs, with THE CAKES, doing the mysterious Sugar Cube Corner morning ritual.
Gummy blinked slowly and ducked his head at THE PRETTY PINK THING’s place.
Sorry, he thought. Must go.
He hopped down from the window, slipped through the open door, and was gone.
Gummy scrambled down two flights of stairs and paused at the ground floor landing.
Light, warmth and noise came from his left, from the kitchens. THE PRETTY PINK THING and her minions, THE CAKES, doing whatever it was that they did every day.
Gummy crouched in the shadows, lurking in the hallway between the base of the stairs and the front door.
Any moment now, he thought.
And then there they were, THE PRETTY PINK THING and MR. CAKE, lugging the bakery sign out from the shop lobby to the door.
“Still kind of in doubt about this ‘strudel’ thing, Pinkie,” said MR. CAKE, studying the chalked menu. “It sounds foreign. You know, like,” in hushed tones, “what griffons would eat.”
“What everypony would eat, Mr. Cake!” insisted THE PRETTY PINK THING. “Apple strudel and a mug of milk is the best way to start the day! Pinkie promise! Here! Let’s get this sign outside! But you better stand back! The customers will soon come pouring in!”
So then the front door of Sugar Cube Corner was open and Gummy saw his chance while THE PRETTY PINK THING and her servant were occupied. He scrambled out, into the near-light and ran around the corner of the shop.
He crept away from Sugar Cube Corner to the verge of the marketplace. Here and there, a few early risers were setting up stalls and wheeling carts into position. But their movements were quiet, their voices hushed. A calm expectancy hovered over the square.
Gummy gathered himself and scampered across the open market, aiming for the pavilions that decorated Gooseberry Hill on the far side of town. Through the pavilions, up and over the hill, then down to the cool banks of the Ponyville River. Got to get there!
So intent was Gummy on his mission that he didn’t notice the oncoming team of ponies until they nearly ran him over.
“Whoa! Whoa! Whoa! Hold up, guys!” cautioned the big lead pony, rearing.
Gummy startled. Enormous hooves stamped around him. He looked up and saw a giant purple muzzle rushing towards him. Reflexively, Gummy lunged and bit.
“‘Oi! Whazzis now?” exclaimed the big purple pony. Then the big pony focused down his nose and chuckled at the tiny alligator clamped to his muzzle. “Heh heh! Lookit th’ little bloke! Sorry if I scared you, buddy!”
“Doesn’t that hurt?” asked a scrappy blue pony.
“Naw,” said the purple pony. “I don’t think my little buddy here has any teeth!”
“No teeth?” asked the big brown lead teamster. “Here, let me see… huh! I think this little fellow is my niece’s pet. Come here… no, don’t be scared, it’s okay.”
Gummy struggled as the big brown pony gently pulled him away from the purple pony’s nose.
“Yep, that’s him,” the big brown pony said. “Poor little guy. Must have wandered off and gotten lost. Hey, guys! How about starting the day at Sugar Cube Corner? I can take this little fellow back home and we can split a muffin.”
Gummy thrashed helplessly in the teamster pony’s grasp. He sagged, sighing, as he was carried back to Sugar Cube Corner, and away from the siren song of the River.
“Oh, hey! Fresh apple strudel!” declared the lead pony, seeing the sign out in front of the bakery. “You guys are in for a treat!”
Gummy sat in his window and pondered.
Outside, the day was brightening. It was still early, but the marketplace was now a dense ramble of vendors, preparing for a busy day. Workers hurried here and there, munching toast and muffins as they went to their places of business. Children dashed by in gleeful mobs.
Outside, the morning light gleamed upon the surface of the River, beckoning like the Light of the First Creation.
Inside, the door to THE PRETTY PINK THING’s chamber was firmly closed. Gummy contemplated his next move.
A stranger, observing Gummy, might imagine the little reptile to be completely devoid of thought, since, as a rule, the alligator usually just sat and stared. And yet, Gummy’s stare was not empty, but rather full to overflowing. He lived in a state of perpetual astonishment, amazed by the splendor and richness of the world around him. Wow! Just wow! his expression said, to those with the eyes to look.
And yet, now, something darker, something primal, stirred within the breast of the little alligator, and his gaze turned inward.
Forgotten my true self, I have, he decided, swishing his tail. In THE PRETTY PINK THING’s service, I have lost the Eye of the Predator. I plunged across the Marketplace without thought, imagining myself safe among the big warm things. Fool!
Stealth, cunning, guile… these are my inheritance. I AM ALLIGATOR! GRAR! Respect me, Ponyville!
Gummy raised himself up to his full four-inch height.
I call upon the powers of my mighty ancestors! I shall go forth and stalk my prey, the River! By Sobek, I will do this!
Gummy hopped down from his window to the door. The door was closed, but there was a narrow gap between the bottom of the door and the floor. Wiggling and squirming, he squeezed through the gap and into the hallway.
Forward! To the River and Glory!
Stealth. Patience. Observation. Cunning. Loyalty. Magic. These were the elements of his folk.
He crept silently down the stairs, stopping at each step to scan the environment. No sight. No sound. One more step, pausing. No sight. No sound. No vibration under his claws, no scent in the air. One more step.
At the edge of Gummy’s hearing: the faintest susurration of wings. Gummy licked his lips. A crunchy bug would be good right now. But he refused to be distracted. One more step. Pause. Look. Listen. One more step.
The flutter of wings, closer now. A moth, perhaps, silky-smooth on the tongue, satisfying in the belly. Gummy glanced about, hungrily. Nothing. He shook himself. Something greater than food called to him now, and he would not be diverted.
One more step. He was nearly at the ground floor landing. He paused. And observed.
THE PRETTY PINK THING’s burbling voice was like sweet music. She is happy, he thought, gathering serenity and strength from the sound. Gummy also heard the voices of THE CAKES close by; they praised THE PRETTY PINK THING’s choice of pastry!
For an instant, Gummy’s resolve (Loyalty) faltered. But his reptilian determination pushed him on. She will still be happy without me. That is a comfort, he thought, a little sadly.
Gummy eased down another step and again heard the flutter of wings. Some instinct, some alligator-sense, now prompted him to look up.
From the ceiling, a round, grinning face peered down at him. “Wump!” exclaimed Pound Cake.
Wump! Pound Cake sprang from the ceiling, pounced upon Gummy and carried the little alligator away. Gummy thrashed his legs helplessly as the baby pegasus bore him off to the Twins' playroom and with great ceremony deposited him before Pumpkin Cake and her conference of animal toys.
Pumpkin gleefully embraced Gummy and presented him with a party hat. Gummy, now an honorary toy, was given a place of importance at the table between a rubber chicken and a plush monkey.
Pumpkin burbled at length. Gummy had no idea of what she was saying. He nodded when the other toys did, and that seemed to be enough.
Eventually, MRS. CAKE appeared with bowls of shredded wheat for THE TWINS and sliced bananas “for Pumpkin’s friends.” Gummy grimly chewed a bit of banana while MRS. CAKE praised him for “minding her precious gingersnaps.”
Shortly thereafter, Gummy was returned to his window on the third floor of the house on Sugar Cube Corner.
It was nearly midday. Light streamed into the apartment atop Sugar Cube Corner.
Gummy gnawed dejectedly on his favorite squeaky toy and cast his gaze around THE PRETTY PINK THING’s room.
His wandering sight eventually alighted upon a small, empty cardboard box, lying near THE PRETTY PINK THING’s litter bin. Square, brown and unremarkable, labeled HAPPY HOOF JOY BUZZER, the eye naturally moved over it and dismissed it.
Gummy stood up. That’s it! he thought. Camouflage! Yes! He had not lived with the PRETTY PINK THING all this time without learning a thing or two about disguises. They chased after Gummy, the fierce, charismatic alligator, but they will ignore Gummy, the humble cardboard box! Ha ha!
He scrambled over to it and tried it on, like a hermit crab easing into a new shell. It was a little stuffy inside, sure, but if he let go the box would easily drop over him, concealing him.
Gummy carefully flattened the cardboard box and pushed it under the door. He squished himself after it. Fluffing the box back up, he pulled it over himself and moved with reptilian determination towards the stairs.
The first trial was flawless.
In the middle of the stairs, Gummy heard the clump of MR. CAKE’s hoofbeats. Gummy stopped, huddling inside his box.
MR. CAKE, entirely indifferent to a tiny bit of debris, climbed past Gummy and up the stairs, muttering to himself, “Strudel… go figure.”
MR. CAKE’s hoofbeats faded. Gummy continued moving cautiously down the stairs.
Luck was with him. At the foot of the stairs, Gummy peeped out and saw that the front door was open. Just a little ways to go.
He skittered down the hallway. Then, hoofbeats! Gummy turtled down inside his box.
The business-like clip-clop announced the approach of MRS. CAKE. Gummy curled up tightly and held his breath.
“Tidy as you go, tidy as you go,” MRS. CAKE hummed to herself. Abruptly, Gummy felt himself and the box lifted up, carried a short distance and then dropped.
Gummy experienced a moment of panic. But then he realized his situation and felt relief. This is good! This is a success! My disguise worked! Gummy reassured himself. I’m in the recycling bin in the little utility room off the kitchen. I’m not upstairs. This isn’t a setback. Just a short detour.
After collecting himself, Gummy risked peeking out of the box. MRS. CAKE was busily wiping down the countertops. Her back was turned to him. Go! Go! Go!
Gummy hauled himself out of the waste bin, drew the box down close around him and scampered across the kitchen floor.
Then he heard a sudden intake of breath. Gummy stopped, dropped and rolled up inside the box.
“Goodness me, how many of these things does Pinkie have, anyway?” exclaimed MRS. CAKE.
Gummy gripped the inside of the box as it was lifted, again, carried, again and dumped, again, into the recycling bin. Again.
Okay, that’s not progress, thought Gummy, as he heard MRS. CAKE’s hoofbeats recede.
Gummy peeped out of the box and looked around. He discovered that the small window in the utility room was open! But how to get up there? The window blind cord, of course! Again, Gummy hauled himself up to the edge of the recycling bin and caught the cord with a claw. Gripping his cardboard companion cube in his jaws, Gummy shimmied up the cord to the open window and hopped out into the empty alley way beyond.
The Ponyville Marketplace was clearly off-limits to him. It was nearly noon and the square was crowded with ponies taking their lunch break and doing a little shopping. Gummy decided to stick to the side streets bordering the square; it would be a long way around, but more certain and safer, he decided.
And his disguise worked great! He moved carefully down each street, scooting forward a little ways, then stopping to listen and smell. Best of all, he found that the fall of pony hooves rang through the cobbles under his claws, and Gummy could often feel the approach of a pony before the pony hove into view. Then he would just stop and pull his box down and wait for the pony to pass by.
This is the ancient way of my kind, Gummy told himself. Patience. Observation. Cunning. The Eye… no! The Claw of the Predator! I AM ALLIGATOR! GRAR!
Gummy congratulated himself on reclaiming his fierce alpha predator heritage as he huddled quietly in his box waiting for a group of pastel-colored unicorns to leave.
Gummy had worked his way halfway around the marketplace when he felt a brisk clippity-clop coming towards him. Quickly, he curled himself into a ball within his box.
The pony stood over him. “Tsk tsk,” she said, clearly enunciating each syllable. “‘Every litter bit hurts,’” she declared. “While I applaud the contribution to our community of our porcine citizens (an important demographic in the upcoming elections), I do not choose to live in a sty. Perhaps I should deliver an inspirational speech about this, next week. In the meantime, here we go.”
And, once again, Gummy braced himself as his box was lifted up and tossed into a nearby rubbish bin.
This is good! This is still good! Gummy reassured himself, as the pony trotted away. He clambered up to the top of the rubbish bin and looked around. This is not a setback. I’m a little closer to my goal. Let’s get there!
Gummy pulled out his small, tattered box and hopped down from the rubbish bin. Pulling down his disguise, he scurried on. Not far now! Not far! he encouraged himself, as he crept confidently past the Ponyville Library.
“Hmmm, interesting,” said Twilight Sparkle, focusing her binoculars.
The binoculars were new and she had been testing them by examining known landmarks and plotting their apparent versus actual dimensions, in order to discover biases in the lenses.
She had the same issue with shoes. Sure, new shoes always felt great, but didn’t it always seem like the left-rear was just a little thicker than the right-front? Twilight had invented a tiltmeter hat to measure the variation, but Spike had just laughed at it and pronounced it silly to worry about shoes.
Boys have no sense of priorities, she thought.
Anyway, she had been trying out her new binoculars and had spotted this little cardboard box meandering down the street outside the Library. The lenses had brought the label into an admirably sharp focus: HAPPY HOOF JOY BUZZER.
Pinkie’s, Twilight thought, smiling.
Twilight had thought, at first, that the box was being blown down the street by the wind. And yet, her meteorological observations appeared at variance with this conclusion. Intrigued, she had pulled out a large pad of graph paper, sketched the terrain around the Library, factored in force vectors to account for local turbulence, and plotted the motions of the little cardboard box against her model.
Why, this is not a stochastic process at all! she realized. An invisible agency must be acting upon this cardboard box. Only that could explain its movement!
Twilight concentrated, bringing all of the available data together for her analysis.
Cardboard box: (probably) belonging to Pinkie Pie.
Cardboard box: too small to actually contain Pinkie (probably).
Cardboard box: moving not randomly, but with deliberation and intelligence. Based on this, we can safely dismiss Pinkie Pie from the equation.
Therefore, the cardboard box must contain: GUMMY!
QED! YES!
Twilight Sparkle sat back and smiled fondly at the little cardboard box as it crept past the Library and down the street. Yes! The world makes sense! she thought. Studying the history of Equestria had sometimes given her reason to doubt that, but here, in this small place, her confidence in reason was strong.
As the little box disappeared around a corner, Twilight suddenly realized, Gummy! Oh, the poor little guy, wandering around inside that box, lost and afraid! I must rescue him!
“Spike, take a letter,” began Twilight Sparkle.
“Dear Princess Celestia,
“Today I learned a valuable lesson about friendship. By careful observation of the world around me, I discovered Pinkie Pie’s precious pet, Gummy, wandering alone through the streets of Ponyville. By acting on this knowledge, I was able to rescue him and return him safely to Sugar Cube Corner. Pinkie has promised to take steps so that he won’t get out again.
“One should always keep one’s eyes open, and always look for ways to help your friends.
“Sincerely, your faithful student,
“Twilight Sparkle.”
Returned, again, to THE PRETTY PINK THING’s domain, Gummy hunted about for a solution.
THE PRETTY PINK THING had stuffed some towels under the door so he had no hope of getting out that way again. He needed some other way out, some other way to reach the River. Some way that didn’t involve so many darn ponies.
When he wanted to sulk, Gummy clambered up to the high shelf, the highest place in THE PRETTY PINK THING’s room. Absently, he batted away the balloons that obstructed his view of the chamber, the window and the world beyond.
Abruptly, he stopped.
Balloons.
Gummy looked at them as if he had never seen them before. Living with THE PRETTY PINK THING, balloons were a natural part of the environment, like earth and air and wax teeth.
Balloons. They float.
The egg of an idea hatched in Gummy’s brain.
Gummy scrambled around through the clutter and came up with a lightweight basket of woven straw. He looked up and found the biggest balloon bobbing against the ceiling. After considerable trial and error, he found a way to tie the balloon securely to the basket.
Eagerly, he pushed open the bedroom window.
Wait! Patience. Observation. Cunning. Gummy dragged two of the smaller balloons down to the window and freed them. He studied their drift. Yes! Across the marketplace towards the River.
This is Fate! This is Destiny! Gummy wrestled the straw basket and the big balloon towards the open window. For a moment, he stood, basking in the glow of the late afternoon Sun, and felt that the claw of Sobek rested upon his shoulder.
Go, my son, and dare great things, grunted Sobek.
Gummy pushed the big balloon out the window. The air snatched at it and carried it upwards. Gummy leapt into the swaying basket, chasing the shouting wind along, flinging his eager craft through the clawless halls of air…
Gummy’s airship bore him over the Ponyville Marketplace. The square was quiet and sleepy in the late afternoon, but Gummy remained vigilant. There are pegasus ponies around, he reminded himself, as he hunkered down low in his basket. They might ignore a balloon or a basket, but they would find a flying alligator something worth investigating.
The basket rocked in the gentle breeze. Gummy realized that he felt at ease, at home, here in the sky. Why, perhaps one of my ancestors was the first dragon, the first bird, the first pegasus! My kind are old beyond imagining. Perhaps one of us, long, long ago, crawled up from the mud, gazed at the sky and thought, why not? Let’s go for it!
Gummy crept up to the edge of the basket, which tilted alarmingly. Carefully, he peeped over the edge and saw the Ponyville Marketplace far below.
They don’t look up, he observed. Even the pegasus ponies look around and down but not up. Altitude is the best disguise.
Gummy’s airship passed serenely over the top of Ponyville Town Hall. Over the top. Somehow, this tickled a tiny alarm in Gummy’s brain.
Gummy looked back at Sugar Cube Corner and was surprised to see how far below him it was. He looked down and was shocked by how small the ponies now seemed. He looked up, at the balloon that was carrying him further and further towards the River, yes, but also deeper and deeper into the sky, and thought, Altitude. Uh oh.
Gummy’s airship floated away from Ponyville and at last over the River. He looked down and considered jumping. But, from up here, the thin blue trace of the river seemed so terribly narrow, and the hard land so unforgiving….
The big balloon, the basket and Gummy spiraled away into the sky above Ponyville, and Gummy realized, I’m in trouble.
Feathered Canyon, a compact cloud mansion tethered high above Ponyville:
“It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair, we had everything before us, we had nothing before us….”
Rainbow Dash wobbled her head. Dude, make up your mind. Still, she thought, he’s got something going here…. She pulled up her book, Kickin’s classic A Tale of Two Ponies, engrossed.
Then she heard an insistent scratching at her front door.
Okay, that’s weird . Weird, of course, because Rainbow’s front door stood at an altitude of about 10,000 feet, so visitors were rare. Tank (she smiled, good ol’ Tank) was away at Fluttershy’s sanctuary, visiting his old friends. And, anyway, he’d just knock or fly in through his pet window, not scratch at the door.
Rainbow had almost convinced herself that she hadn’t heard anything when the scratching, more insistent, came again.
She respectfully put down her book and went to the door. It better not be that Scamway salespegasus again, she thought.
Rainbow opened the door and found herself eye-to-eye with a forlorn and desperate-looking Gummy. Even as she stood there, amazed, Rainbow saw the little basket carrying the tiny reptile drift up and away from her door, into the empty sky.
“Gummy?” she exclaimed. I’m not having one of those dreams again, am I? she wondered as she leapt into the air, following Gummy’s airship into the clear sky above her home. “Gummy?”
Clutching the edge of the basket, Gummy gazed sorrowfully at Rainbow Dash.
Rainbow Dash glanced around. Then she smiled and gathered the little alligator into her forelegs, cooing, “Aw, you poor widdle guy! I guess one of Mommy Pinkie’s widdle jokes went to Crazytown, huh? C’mon, hold tight, my friend. Auntie Rainbow will take care of you.”
Gummy slumped gratefully into Rainbow Dash’s embrace.
Rainbow Dash took Gummy in, fed him a cup of warm soup, tucked him into Tank’s bunk and sat beside him while he rested.
“Don’t tell anypony I did this, okay?” she said softly, rubbing his belly. “I mean, I’ve got an image to uphold, right? I’m not really nice, you know. I mean, I’m awesome and everything, just not nice , right?”
Gummy’s eyes closed. And he snuggled closer to Rainbow Dash.
In the end, he was returned, again, to THE PRETTY PINK THING’s room at Sugar Cube Corner.
From his window, he stared up at the sky. I believe in THE BLUE PONY. Others may doubt, but I believe.
Gummy roamed dejectedly around THE PRETTY PINK THING’s chamber. Celestia’s Sun was sinking towards the west. Soon, the day would be gone, and Gummy’s hopes with it.
He fumbled through the bedroom’s clutter, searching for, if not a solution, then at least absolution, something would say to him, No, Gummy, this failure is not your fault. You did your best. You did all that anygator could ask of you.
Gummy found a ball of grass-green yarn and absently shredded it.
No more balloons. No. From now on, my claws stay firmly on the ground.
The cardboard box disguise almost worked. But almost wasn’t good enough. Some ponies still saw me, reacted to me. It’s not enough to be uninteresting. I must become invisible.
Gummy looked down at his claws, draped with grass-green threads.
Grass. Green.
Another idea hatched in his head. And this time, it was a double-yolker.
Gummy bit and tore at the ball of yarn, until it resembled nothing so much as a small, ragged clump of grass.
He burrowed a tunnel into the ball and clambered in. He presented himself to the bedroom mirror and was pleased with the effect.
A clod. Anypony that sees me will think, there’s a clod.
A perfect disguise. I will blend in. Disappear. Invisible.
But how to escape THE PRETTY PINK THING’s chamber? She had blocked the door with towels and closed and locked the bedroom window.
But not the little bathroom window! Ha!
Gummy reluctantly used a balloon to reach the tiny window ledge and hop onto the glass. Clad in his new ghillie suit, he couldn’t quite squeeze through the gap between the bottom of the window and the pane. Gummy threw his weight forward and back, trying to open the window a little wider. The window moved reluctantly, at first, then suddenly tilted down.
Triumph! thought Gummy, as he slid uncontrollably to the edge of the window pane, tumbled over and fell.
Gummy struck the sharply sloped roof of Sugar Cube Corner, rolled, caromed into a gable, bounced, dropped and finally came to rest in an awning that had been set up in front of the shop to a create a little bistro for late afternoon and evening customers.
Gummy shook himself and crawled to the edge of the awning. Looking down, he saw two ponies, drinking cups of brown liquid and nibbling key lime pie.
He looked down to his right. The flowerbed. Perfect. He gathered himself and leaped.
Gummy landed almost noiselessly in the soft earth of the flowerbed. Stealth. Patience. Observation. He huddled down into a ball and scanned the area around him.
So far, so good. The two ponies hadn’t noticed him. Slowly, carefully, he crept through the flowerbed to the edge of the street.
Gummy’s plan now was to dash from flowerbed to lawn to grassy verge, circumnavigating the Ponyville Marketplace by creeping through the protective greenery.
And it worked! It worked! Ha ha! This, this is the Claw of the Predator in action, he thought. Moving like a ghost through the forest primeval, sliding through jungle and swamp, approaching the unwary prey until the moment came to pounce!
Gummy huddled tightly in a ball as a group of pony children passed, laughing.
Ha ha! Little do they suspect their peril! thought Gummy, the fierce predator, as he shrank within his tattered ball of wool.
Once the children were gone, Gummy crept on, feeling a new pride swell in his breast, a new confidence in his abilities.
And if anypony noticed a clod of grass swaggering through the weeds, none of them did anything about it.
Up and over Gooseberry Hill, through the pavilions on the far side of town. Then down to the riverbank, where Gummy was unexpectedly stopped by a wall.
A wall? A wall? Really, A WALL?!
Gummy paced back and forth before the obstacle in disbelief. I just flew over this area this afternoon, he thought, with a slight shudder. There was no wall here then! Why is there a wall now? A WALL?!
Being cold-blooded, an alligator is slow to anger. But this, this was more than Gummy could tolerate. He could smell, could hear, could feel the River, achingly close. No wall, nothing, could stop him now.
He looked left and right. The wall stretched for yards in both directions without an opening. He looked up. A story or more. He examined the wall itself: solid, densely covered in bright purple tiles.
Calmly, deliberately, Gummy stripped off his ghillie suit.
Climb! Gummy’s claws, honed to needle sharpness after all his scrambling about, spread and gripped the tiles. I can do this! I will do this! Climb!
Patience. Observation. Cunning. Despite his anger, Gummy forced himself to test each grip before hauling himself upward. He was too close to fail now to some careless mistake. Grip. Test. Climb. Grip. Test. Climb. With relentless reptilian determination, Gummy made his way upwards.
Nearly there. Grip. Test. Climb. Almost there.
Then the wall stirred under Gummy’s claws.
The wall, which had seemed as solid as stone, now shifted like sand beneath him. Gummy clutched at the tiles for dear life as the wall rippled and moved like a living thing.
Like a living thing. Gummy looked at the tiles beneath his claws and, if his eyes could have grown wider, they would have.
Not tiles. Scales.
Uh oh.
“Why, hello there, little fellow!” boomed a voice as soft as a waterfall. “Here now. Let’s take a good look at you!”
Gummy looked up and found a vast draconic head, as large as a house, swiveling sinuously to focus on the tiny reptile. Eyes as broad as windows narrowed to gaze down upon him.
Sobek! Gummy thought. Father of Crocodiles, Lord of Rivers!
Gummy noticed a movement to his left. He froze in fear as claws like massive but infinitely delicate boat anchors caught the tiny alligator and uplifted him, until Gummy could see nothing but the River Dragon’s fixed gaze.
Gummy shivered. Who am I, Great Sobek, that thou art mindful of me?
The Dragon appeared to consider for a moment. Then: “Perhaps introductions are in order,” said the Dragon, agreeably. “I have been known by many names in my long life. Recently, in the last millennium or so, I’ve been called Stephanos Eridanos Magnus. ” The Dragon grinned impishly. “’Steve.’”
“What is it, Steven?” came the voice of Rarity the unicorn from far below.
“An unexpected guest, my dear,” said the Dragon. “Do you know him?”
The Dragon lowered a steam shovel-sized claw and delicately deposited Gummy on a linen-covered table. Gummy found himself gazing at his reflection in a shining silver tea service. His expression read: Wow. Just wow.
“Why! It’s Gummy!” declared Rarity. “Pinkie Pie’s dear little… creature.” Rarity turned to her white Persian cat, crouching on the table. “Opal, say hello to your playmate.”
Opalescence arched her back and glared. “MEE-ROW! Spitt-spitt! Hisss…! ”
“Opal says, ‘Good evening, Gummy,’” explained Rarity, primly.
Gummy spun around, trying to make sense of his situation. There was the MAJESTIC WHITE PONY and her ANGRY WHITE KITTY. The MAJESTIC WHITE PONY, clad in billowy summer apparel, was nonchalantly sipping tea from a tiny cup.
Gummy was standing on a clean, linen-covered table covered by a festive umbrella.
Sobek (Steve) , Father of Crocodiles, Lord of Rivers, loomed over the table. A teacup, the size of a soup tureen but still absurdly small in his enormous claws, was lifted to his mouth. He sipped delicately. “Oolong, of course,” he sighed, happily.
“Of course, Steven, what else for you for our little summer tea party?” said Rarity. She turned her regard to Gummy. “But I’m certain that Pinkie Pie must be so worried about her friend. Excuse me, Steven, but perhaps I should take him back to Sugar Cube Corner right now.”
Gummy felt his claws leave the table as Rarity’s magic raised him up. Gummy slumped, despondent. No, not again, he thought.
Rarity got up to leave but discovered the River Dragon’s claws blocking her path.
“If you will permit me, my dear,” said the Dragon, apologetically. “Perhaps I have a better solution.”
The Dragon plucked Gummy out of the air, raised him up and studied the tiny alligator, eye-to-eye.
In the westering light of evening, something burned in the eyes of the great serpent. Memory glowed, ancient beyond reckoning, preserved in dark amber.
We walked together in those Old Lands, you and I, the serpent’s eyes said to Gummy. We strode the earth as kings. We chose to share our world with the small, fast, warm-blooded ones. A mistake, perhaps. But we love and honor them. And they, in turn, must honor us and our ways. The relentless and unforgiving ways of the Predator.
The great serpent opened his jaws. His long teeth glowed red and wet in the dying light.
Then, in a voice as soft and kind as the trickle of a creek through a stand of rushes, the serpent breathed, “Down there, beyond the bridge, in the muddy place where rock and wood, earth and water join: the fair ladies are waiting for you, my child. "
The great serpent made a graceful sweeping gesture, and deposited Gummy gently into the River with a quiet ker-plunk!
“Steven, will he be all right there, do you think?” asked Rarity, worried.
Gazing downriver, the corners of the serpent’s moustache arched upwards. “Oh yes, my dear, I think he will be fine.
“Now then!” he said, rubbing his claws together and turning his attention to the alabaster unicorn. “Tell me more about your Fall line!”
“GUMMY! GUMMY! GUMMY!” squealed Pinkie Pie.
Pinkie clutched the tiny alligator to her chest and danced around Sugar Cube Corner.
It was the middle of the night and the entire household was up and excited. Pound and Pumpkin giggled as they bounced off the walls. Mr. and Mrs. Cake dashed about, struggling to collect their children out of the air.
Rarity stood in the doorway looking apologetically at Pinkie.
“I knew you would be worried, darling, but Steven was so insistent that Gummy had to go for his little… swim.”
“SWIMMING!” cried Pinkie. “Oh, Gummy! That’s what you wanted to do all day! Swimming in the River! Of course! I’m so sorry.”
“Swimming. Yes. That’s what he wanted. Swimming,” said Rarity, looking askance.
Pinkie Pie looked at the unicorn quizzically, but Rarity just batted her eyes.
“Swimming,” she said, firmly.
“Well, then, that gives me the BEST IDEA EVER!” exclaimed Pinkie. “A picnic/pet playdate by the river! You and me and all my pals and their pets having a good old time by the river! Boats! Yes! Believe me, Gummy, there is nothing half so worth doing as messing about with boats! Ha ha ha! Three ponies in a boat, to say nothing of the alligator! Hee!
“Doesn’t that sound great, Gummy? Doesn’t it? Doesn’t it?”
Gummy just smiled dreamily, snuggled against THE PRETTY PINK THING and went back to sleep.
