Dreamwalker's Tale: An Anthology

Out of all of my friends, both close and otherwise, Pinkie could be the scariest.

Fluttershy shot me a serene smile. The kind that both bolstered my confidence for a moment and told me that so far, I had done everything right. “You might want to run now.”

I chuckled nervously.

“Dreamwalker! I know you’re hiding in the market!” Pinkie's voice resounded with such force across the packed place that I inevitably imagined her being up in the air just by sheer force of volume.

“I should,” I agreed with Fluttershy and quickly hugged her. Some of the passerby’s gazes were drawn to me. They knew Pinkie. They knew me. Some smiled with amused pity in their eyes, others just grinned like I had it coming. None bore any true maliciousness. Their grins only widened when I ducked low to get cover from being spotted. All the ponies filling up the market would serve well to keep me hidden a while longer as I dodged and weaved my way across, past the vendor’s booths and their customers.

“Good luck,” somepony whispered as I passed by, “you’re gonna need it.”

I did not dare to stop and look around. I simply muttered a “Gee, thanks,” chuckled and moved on. I knew she was in here with me. Somewhere. I could almost feel her gaze burning a hole in my neck. One of the reasons why, every so often, I looked around. I did not stop, but I slowed down and looked around. I did not spot her telltale pink coat anywhere, not even as a blur zipping by.

I exited the market at the other end from where I had heard Pinkie. A few ponies still grinned at me, but most went about their day as usual. This was not out of the ordinary, after all. And they all knew the same thing I did: If Rainbow Dash, probably the fastest flier in all of Equestria, could not outfly a dirt-bound but determined Pinkie Pie — what chances did I have?

None, was the answer. They knew. I knew. I snuck away anyway.

I had seen Applejack angry. Really, truly angry. And it was intimidating. Despite my knowledge of anatomy and the resilience of tendon, bone and sinew, a tiny voice in my head still whispered that she was probably capable of bucking heads clean off. She could send rooted trees flying if she wanted, I knew that much. Rainbow was different in that regard. She lacked Applejack's overwhelming strength, but she made up for it in endurance and speed. Twilight, if tickled right, could literally burst into flames. In all my time here, I had never seen it. But I had heard the tales and found them a little funny, to be honest. One of the most powerful beings in Equestria and all true anger really did to her was… set her aflame. While my imagination struggled to suggest something else, something more intimidating, I still had not expected that.

I even saw Fluttershy angry at one point. She was the type that got really, really quiet. To the point where even her surroundings seemed to fall silent out of fear of repercussions. The wind stopped whistling, the bunnies stopped hopping, the birds stopped tweeting. She stood there, stock-still. Not a single tremor betrayed her internal battle for self-control. Fluttershy was the living embodiment of a soft shell with a hidden, steel-hard core.

But Pinkie? I had never in my lives seen Pinkie truly angry. She sometimes played along with anger when they were fighting. She snarled and growled. Right before giggling, because it sounded funny to her. She mimicked anger. She got frustrated. Or disappointed. Or ran out of patience. But in the end, I liked to believe that true anger was a completely foreign concept to Pinkie's mind. Most things she did for a reason. And that reason usually had something to do with fun. Hers. Others. To cause it. To save it. Even now, as she was yelling my name and probably tracking me down like a bloodhound, she put on a show. It was for the enjoyment of those watching, for her own excitement, and maybe even for mine.

But there was something about her that tickled the mind in all the wrong ways. The way her legs sometimes moved like actual coiled springs. The way she craned her neck and twisted it around in a manner that looked decidedly unhealthy. The way her smile stretched just that little bit too much for comfort when she was faking it. The way she clung to a ceiling. Somehow.

She tried to explain the latter away with suction cups, sure, but I had a feeling that those would not work in the same way for me. Or anypony else, for that matter.

We Ponyvillians had learned to save our own sanity with a simple statement. It almost felt like a superstitious tradition at this point. Something ponies muttered to keep ghosts and spirits at bay.

That’s just Pinkie Pie.

And if we wanted to help an outsider stay sane, we simply told them not to question Pinkie.

And that worked. Even for me.

When Pinkie yelled my name that first time, I ducked in sheer reflex. I had done nothing wrong! Nothing I knew of, anyway. And then I spotted Fluttershy making her way through the masses. Carefully, as to not touch anypony despite the market being packed with ponies. And she never lacked the grace to achieve that. I really wanted to ask for an explanation. Why Pinkie was after me. But there had been no time to even utter the question before she told me to run.

The day had started so peacefully, too. A sunny sky with only small tufts of white dotted around, it was decently warm without being hot, a cool breeze occasionally whisked away any unwelcome excess warmth, it was simply comfortable. And I really needed to get out again. Training had been tough this week and I needed to fight the urge to just lock myself in the castle, grab my Twilight of choice, lock ourselves further in — the library, maybe? To placate Twilight? — and just stay there without seeing so much as a sliver of actual daylight before training would call me back to Canterlot.

It seemed like a good idea at the time.

Especially given that the weather schedule in the newspaper said something about a planned rain storm tonight. I had spotted a couple of pegasi when I left the castle, but the cloud cover had grown considerably by now. For all my love of rain, I did not wish to walk in it today. Especially not with my saddlebags currently full with groceries. It had been one of Spike's tasks for the day, but it served well to give me an opportunity to leave the castle. That little nudge that I sometimes required to set hoof outside.

I was on my way back. The market and its bustle and noise had long since faded into the background. Houses erected to my left and right, the dirt path beneath me. And lots of bushes, which I eyed suspiciously. I knew Pinkie was a master of disguise. And I vaguely remembered her having a bush-disguise, too.

But she did not jump at me from any of them. I kept my distance and trotted at a quickened pace. Back to the palace, to safety. I could already see the promised land, those massive golden entrance doors.

I was about thirty feet away when Pinkie appeared. Because of course she did.

The way she did it baffled and confounded my mind. She pulled herself out of the scenery, but there was no opening, no rift, no portal. And she did it upside down, of course. Several feet off the ground. She flailed with her forehooves and fell once she managed to dislodge herself from wherever. I reacted quickly enough to catch her with my telekinesis and set her down gently. After turning her around.

And she grinned.

“Where did you—“ No!

“How did you even—“ Don’t!

I sighed and rubbed the bridge of my muzzle. “Hiya, Dreamwalker! Were you hiding from me?” Once I looked back up to her, I saw the fragility of her smile. How frighteningly brittle it seemed.

She tried to make it sound like we had just been playing a game. Hide and seek was one of her favorites, despite her always winning. But I knew better. I knew her better. I saw her bottom lip quiver ever so slightly. And really, that was all it took.

I sighed, surrendered myself to fate and took those few steps up the stairs to reach her. “I could never,” I let her know quietly as I went in for a hug. No really, Pinkie. I could never hide from you, even if I tried. That thought I kept to myself. I embraced her and instantly felt the anxiety melt from her muscles as she eased into the hug. It did not take long for her to reciprocate it and as usual, she managed to gracefully tip along the line between forceful, crushing bearhug and soft, tender embrace.

Hugging Pinkie always felt great. I could not help myself and sank a little further into her. Her bouncy mane tickled my muzzle. I sighed. She had a little extra plush in all the right places. Every breath carried the scent of oven warmth and sweets. Currently prevalent was a distinct note of cherry and caramel.

Stop!

My eyes shot open. I had not even noticed closing them. Somehow. My lips were fractions of an inch away from her neck. The urge to continue was there. Just a tiny nip, it echoed in my head in accordance with a faint memory from another life. A tiny nip and I could compare the delighted squeal she surely would give to the one from my fractured memory. Little love-bites on this exact spot really got her going, my memory told me.

Pinkie… simply giggled. “Found a nice one?”

She knew. Well, of course she knew. She was Pinkie, after all.

It always baffled me how little it disturbed her. How little she cared. These moments happened. Occasionally. They had become slightly rarer over the last two years, but they still happened. I had seen others struggle with the implications. I had seen Applejack shift her weight from one side to the other in slight discomfort when I called her ‘sis’ too early. It had been a stupid slip of the tongue. But what was I supposed to do? I knew her. She still felt like family to me. I had seen Twilight struggle as well. When she had overdone it again with another study session and I forced her to take a bath, then take a massage and then head to bed. And suddenly, I knew all her sore spots. I knew with perfect precision where all the knots in her back and neck were. Without any need to ask. Without any need to feel my way around. Because some were always the same, across space and time and lives. And it made her question so many things. It made me ask those same questions as well, no matter how tiresome it was to get little to no answers.

But Pinkie had never been like that.

I awkwardly disentangled myself from her. Just to prevent further incidents. To negate even the risk of doing something stupid. Because honesty was important in any relationship, and if I had given in, I would have needed to tell them. To tell Sunny, to tell Fluttershy. Drowning once more in my own guilt.

I took half a step back, just to be safe. And I rubbed my neck and avoided her gaze, even though I knew that it was not a big deal for her. “Yeah, I… I did,” I answered after what felt like an eternity.

“I’m happy it was a good one!” Pinkie chirped up. She suddenly shifted her weight onto her hindlegs and stood up. I looked at her and—

— did not question where she suddenly got these pom poms from. At all.

“Flash of insight! Flash of insight!” she chanted with a cheery grin.

I was embarrassed enough to quickly look around and felt slightly relieved to see that no witnesses were anywhere nearby. I still could not help but laugh awkwardly. “You know I’ve been thinking about abandoning that name. It’s never going to stick anyway.”

Pinkie got back on all fours, her pom poms limply hanging off her hooves. “Aw. But you can do this with it,” she said and waved one of her legs around, granting the pompom a new, short lease on life. “Why do you want to abandon it?”

It was hard to imagine that she somehow had not noticed it. But then again, such was the strange innocence of Pinkie Pie. Sometimes, she said things that were clearly innuendo of the highest order, and she said it without realizing a thing while everypony else snickered. Other times, she managed to make something utterly innocent sound like it was naughty without even trying and I could never tell if it was intentional or not. Just another lovable aspect of hers.

I sighed and resigned to explain it, despite the discomfort the memory brought along. “Remember Winona’s party three weeks ago?” She nodded eagerly. Of course she did. Pinkie never forgot a party. “Remember how Rainbow laughed her rump off almost the entire evening?” Another nod. “I had not been quite aware of it as I should have been, but apparently, I had been… uhm… flirting with Twilight… the entire evening. Rather awkwardly. Because how else would I do that.”

Pinkie's expression lit up. “Oh, so that’s what that was all about!”

I refrained from smacking my hoof into my face. If only barely. “Hm. Yes.” And I could already see the question bubbling in her mind: But what did that have to do with the label? “She, uhm… she made…” I shuddered for a moment. “She made FlashLight-jokes the entire time. And more or less continued with that in the past weeks, because she found it hilarious how I reacted to it. Every. Single. Time.” Even now, I felt uncomfortable in my own skin. And Rainbow was not even here to laugh at it. I knew she did not mean anything by it. As far as Rainbow was concerned, she was just teasing me. And I did not have the heart to tell her otherwise.

Pinkie snorted and giggled. And I had my doubts that she truly understood Rainbow's jokes. “That’s no problem! I can ask her to stop if you want?”

They were a prankster duo. And if anypony had the power to make Rainbow stop, it was Pinkie. But at the same time, that had failed in the past. I grimaced a little. I was already a wimp anyway. “She would only tease me more,” I replied.

“Why would she—“ Pinkie started, but I gave her a long, hard stare. And a few seconds later, her face showed signs of a deeper understanding. “Ohhh. Yeah, she’d totally do that, wouldn’t she?”

I did not know what to make of her grin. Maybe she would talk to Rainbow on my behalf anyway. A part of me — the cowardly one — hoped for that. I could not imagine her chiming in with Rainbow at the next best opportunity though, and that alone was a relief already.

Time to make a run for it, I decided. This entire topic had been a really good distraction. A little small talk between friends, some catching up, it had been great, really. “Well, it was lovely running into you, but I really need to get these into the kitchen,” I started and cautiously patted my bulging saddlebags. “Otherwise Spike will be cross and we will all horribly starve.”

I tried to sidestep Pinkie. Big mistake. Maybe she would not have caught on this quickly had I waited for a proper response and a regular goodbye. But the moment I tried to outmaneuver her, she recognized it as exactly that. And therefore probably remembered her initial mission. And with a blink of an eye, she was right in front of me again. With a frighteningly wide grin plastered on her face. “No can do!” she answered in her best Applejack-impression. “We have a Party Planning Emergency ™ on our hooves!”

“We?” I meekly squeaked.

“Yeppers! And surely you agreed that a Party Planning Emergency ™ has priority?”

There was no getting out of this, was there? Well, it was worth a try. I sighed and surrendered. Again. And despite myself, I gave her cheek a quick nuzzle. “It sure is,” I signed my fate.

“Don’t worry! I promise it’ll be quick!”

I had a feeling I knew where this conversation was headed. To be honest, I had a feeling what this was all about the very moment I heard her scream my name at the top of her lungs at the market. “I doubt that,” I murmured, but did not resist.

She put a hoof into her wobbly mane, rummaged around in it for a second — when had those pom poms vanished, anyway? — and retrieved a clipboard and a pencil. “When is your birthday?”

Several images flashed before my mind's eye. Memories from other lifetimes. Broken pieces. Sometimes still images, sometimes little short movies. Sometimes just her voice, asking this very same question over and over and over again. There we go… again. I sighed and tried hard to keep smiling, for her sake. “I don’t have one.”

“Don’t be silly, silly! Of course you do! Everypony does!” she insisted with confidence.

“Well, I don’t remember mine,” I corrected.

The gasp that followed immediately after was a Pinkie-level one. The kind of gasp that drew more air into lungs than your average hot air balloon could hold. “Aw, you poor little Dreamy-Weamy!” Before I could react, she grabbed me and pulled me in with a dizzying speed and force. She squashed me against her chest fluff hard enough that it was difficult to breathe for a moment. And yet I somehow enjoyed this moment very much. More than I should have, probably. “We need to find one for you!” she resolutely decided.

Now that’s going to go as well as a floating brick. “Pinkie, I… I don’t really… like… birthdays?” My volume had steadily decreased the more I became aware of the dire consequences the utterance of this statement could wreak.

She gasped. Again. An epic-level gasp, even for Pinkie. And I quickly jumped into the void of silence to save… something. “Mine! I don’t like my birthday! Others are fine, I very much enjoy them! And this isn’t about your parties either, I love your parties, you know that!” I dared to remove my face from her chest and looked at her. Maybe it was a trick of the light, but she seemed a little blue to me. “Pinkie? Are you sure you’re okay?” She nodded faintly. “Don’t get light-headed on me! Please. Breathe!”

And just like that, she exhaled and waved my concerns off with a hoof. “I’m not worried! You’d totally catch me if I fainted.”

I grimaced slightly. “I would try, sure. And I would probably end up buried beneath you.” Because for some reason, using my actual magic to catch somepony was something that only occurred to me as an option once I thought about it. And catching something — or somepony — usually left little time for active thinking.

Pinkie merely giggled. I wondered briefly what scenario currently played out in her head. “That sounds like fun, we should try that sometime!” Before I could disagree, she furrowed her brow and moved on with a more serious expression. By Pinkie-standards. “Why don’t you like your birthday?”

This time, I raised my hoof and dragged it across my face, slowly. It’ll be quick, she said, I echoed in my head. I knew it wouldn’t be. “I… hm…” I felt those saddlebags drag me down. As if I was treading water and they wished to drown me. I looked over my shoulder at them, then back at the castle. The cloud cover was almost finished. A gray blanket up in the sky. Without the sun warming our coats, the occasional gust of wind became a lot more chilling.

My gaze wandered back down to meet hers. No, this would not be quick. “Come on,” I said as I stood up and opened the door, “let’s talk inside.” Pinkie followed me in and towards the library. I quickly poked my head in in hopes of finding Twilight, but she was nowhere to be seen. Which made it likely that she was either down in her lab in the cellar or up in her study. “Take a seat, I’ll be with you in a second.”

“You’re not going to run again, are you?” she asked surprisingly cautiously.

I turned to face her and without a moment of hesitation, hugged her once again. “I told you, I could never hide from you.” I gave her a little extra squeeze for good measure.

While Pinkie seemed mollified, I went to the kitchen and expected to find Spike there. He wasn’t. “Huh.” I had been gone for an hour, maybe two. Maybe he was still doing his chores somewhere else around the castle. Or he was lounging in his room with a bunch of comic books. Or he was with Twilight. Whatever the case, the kitchen was mine for now. I unclasped my saddlebags and levitated them onto the countertop. I would not dare to try and sort this stuff away. Spike had the kitchen sorted, this was very much his domain and my attempts to gauge what belonged where could only go sideways. I only sorted the things away that needed cooling, and that was that.

I briefly considered going back to Pinkie. She was waiting for me after all, and keeping her waiting for too long would not be nice. For several reasons. But at the same time, I needed a breather. A moment to mentally prepare myself for what was to come. And it gave me a good opportunity to do something for her that I had not done in a while.

I usually did not have Pinkie over as a guest. No, usually, we had her over. And that was a significant difference. Because as soon as others got involved, Spike was part of that group. And he took pride in caring for guests. He asked if somepony wanted snacks. He made the drinks. He kept everyone satisfied.

With Spike not being here, though, I was free to make a hot chocolate. Just the way I knew Pinkie liked it. Or at least how many Pinkies had liked them in many different cycles. With a tiny pinch of chili powder and exactly two marshmallows. One went in when it was still steaming hot, so it could properly melt. The other went in when it had cooled down just a little, so it could be on the verge of melting when presented. And a few colorful sprinkles on top, just for looks.

A few minutes of careful preparation. A few minutes of being utterly distracted from the looming conversation by focusing entirely on the task at hoof. Once it was done, I took a step back and regarded a simple porcelain cup on a saucer like it was a masterpiece crafted over the years.

“It’ll do.”

While it surely did not sound like it, that was high praise, coming from me in regards to something I had done.

I grabbed the saucer in my telekinesis and carried it with me into the library. Owlicious and White Tip were sleeping peacefully on the perch of the former near the window. Pinkie sat on the couch. I considered lighting the fireplace for a moment, but fumbling around with flint and steel seemed like a bother right now and we did not actually need it, neither the light nor the warmth.

“There you go,” I said and levitated the saucer over to her. And I smiled. Because it never failed to make me smile when Pinkie's eyes lit up like that. She took it gratefully, I sat down beside her on the couch and waited. And she relished the treat.

I had seen Pinkie wolf down entire cakes in the blink of an eye. Another physics-defying thing that sometimes tickled the same parts of my brain as it had hers back when Twilight had tried to study Pinkie’s Pinkie sense. But here and now, she took it slow. She sipped. Her eyes closed. I could tell the moment she noticed the chili, because her smile briefly veered into a smirk.

I knew I stared at her. I marveled. But what difference did that really make? I would have died of embarrassment had somepony stared at me like that. No matter the reason. But Pinkie did not mind. Did not care, it seemed. She was in her own little world, and she was content. Once done and with the cup empty, she set it down on a side table.

“Good?” I asked, despite knowing the answer.

She overdramatically smacked her lips and grinned. “Really good!” And she beamed at me.

You have seen her like this a thousand times, a distant voice echoed in my head. I tried not to let it spoil my mood. Right now, I was happy. Because I had made her happy. And the less I thought about how dependent I was on how I could affect others around me and how unhealthy that probably was, the better.

It was rare to see her sit this still. But despite what some ponies thought, Pinkie could be very perceptive. She knew her friends. And she knew how to accommodate them. Being with Fluttershy for almost two years now probably had helped a lot, too. She’s one lucky mare.

Eventually though, I could not ignore the fact any longer that Pinkie patiently stared at me with expectation written all over her face. And I knew that Pinkie’s patience had limits.

I sighed. “Right. So. Birthday troubles.” She nodded. “It’s… the culmination of a lot of things, really. When I presented that custom-made poster to Rainbow last year, she screeched. She didn’t even mind that her voice cracked, which she’s usually embarrassed about. When I gave Applejack my attempt at a traditional Apple pie, she chuckled and hugged me. When I gave Fluttershy that scarf, she blushed. I… I don’t feel like I ever give… an adequate reaction. I don’t do… any of that. And I know that from my memories as well as other opportunities, like Hearth’s Warming. I don’t blush. I don’t yell. I don’t freak out. I don’t do whatever Rarity does. I have to consciously remind myself that showing appreciation is important. That showing signs of my enjoyment of these gifts is something you care about and might even need. And it’s hard. Because at that point, I start thinking about it. And I start modulating things. Because at that point, I want to give you the best feeling I could give, and that doesn’t necessarily mirror my own feelings anymore.” My throat was getting a little tighter. I decided to ignore it. “I just sit there and unpack things and… goodness gracious, I sometimes have more fun solving the knots you guys use for the ribbons. And most of you don’t even reuse them. That’s not to say that I don’t like my presents. I’m just… you always care. And it shows. All of you. It does. But I guess… I don’t know. I don’t need much. I have a roof over my head, a bed to sleep in and thanks to Spike all the food I could ask for, with an impressive quality to match. And with these gosh-darn memories always in the back of my head, I’d rather have something to eat or experience or… remember, than something that… you know… stands there. And looks nice. And collects dust. Because that I can’t take with me. At all. But those memories might stay with me. But I also know that giving what basically amounts to consumables can be dissatisfying. Is dissatisfying for many ponies. And I don’t… I don’t really need to even talk about the concept of not giving gifts at all, do I? And to top it all off, I don’t really like the attention. I don’t like to be the center of attention. Which a birthday really is structured around. I’ve been… We have been through this. This exact talk. Many times. And at some point, eventually, I always tell you the same. That over the years, with these reasons, it simply left a bad taste in my mouth, I think. I like birthdays just fine if it’s the birthday of somepony else. I like making gifts. I like wrapping them up nicely. I like seeing them enjoy it. I like giving them my attention.”

I stopped myself before I could drift off into rambling mode. And I took an unsteady, uneven breath. Pinkie had listened intently. She had not interrupted me once, she had not moved, she looked like a statue for a moment, not even blinking or breathing.

Have I broken her? Please don’t say I have…!

I touched a hoof to her shoulder and she blinked. A smile returned to her lips and she laid her hoof over mine. Everything was fine. She was fine. I sighed in relief.

Despite this, she remained quiet for a few minutes more. Then a grin started to bloom on her muzzle. The usual ‘I have a great idea!’-grin Pinkie had. “Weeell,” she started in a drawn-out manner and gestured with her hoof, “since you don’t remember your birthday, and it would be wrong to celebrate your birthday on just any day when it might not even be your real birthday… we’re going to celebrate something else instead!”

I should have known that she would not let it go that easily. She never did, after all. “And what would that be?” I asked and cocked my head slightly.

Pinkie shrugged with absolute nonchalance. “Birthdays are meant for us, you know? You got that all wrong and backwards.” She shot me a sly smile. “We get an opportunity to celebrate that we have you. And we have had you since you arrived here.”

I was a tad confused. Delighted, but also confused. She tried her best to bend backwards and make birthdays sound like something more appealing, which might have even worked. But at the same time, she told me we would not be celebrating my birthday. “So we’re going to celebrate… what, exactly? My arrival day?”

The way she suddenly beamed at me told me everything I needed to know. Hook, line and sinker. Well played, Pinkie.

“And now I don’t have to say it, because you named it first!” she squealed in delight and jumped over to hug me. I caught her in time and tumbled backwards and held her tight just in case we would fall off the couch. We did not. I still held her tight. She did not mind.

“That’s great!” she exclaimed while we were almost muzzle to muzzle. “Now I have a date and can fill up a few slots in my file and I can finally prepare for your Arrival Day party!”

“I don’t—“

She launched into the air, somehow, and zipped towards the door. “No time, preparations to be done, see you later!” I sighed, but could not not smile at the same time. A second later, the door to the library was flung open once again. “And thanks for the hot chocolate!”

“You’re wel—“ She was gone again, of course. “… —come.” I let my head drop back onto the couch and laughed. Quietly, because I did not wish to wake Owlicious or White Tip. But I laughed. And I found myself strangely looking forward to this ‘Arrival Day party’. Maybe simply because it was a Pinkie-party. Or maybe out of sheer curiosity.

A few days later.

I had not expected a party invitation for today. Because the day I arrived was two years ago, tomorrow. And with everypony as busy as they usually were, I highly doubted that we would celebrate deep into the night. But I was conflicted if I should tell Pinkie. It was a simple mistake to make and it was probably hard to keep track of it. Or rather, to extrapolate which day exactly it had been after such a long time.

I still pondered this issue when I walked into the main library. My friends waited, but while I was greeted with the occasional smile or nod, most continued with their casual conversation amongst each other. Pinkie excused herself from Fluttershy with a nuzzle and came over.

Meanwhile, I stared up at the banner hanging from the ceiling. In colorful letters, it proudly displayed: Happy 1st Arrival Day!

I furrowed my brow slightly. “Uh… Pinkie? I… think you miscounted?”

“Don’t be silly, silly!” she replied and pulled me into a tight, soft hug. “Pinkie Pie never makes mistakes when it comes to parties.” She let go of me and rummaged around in her mane, carefully pulling something out. Not fully, just a bit to let me see what she had there. It took me a moment to realize that it was the corner of another banner. “Your first AD-party is a little late, but that’s okay, your second one will be right on time!”

Two days of partying. It slowly dawned on me what I was in for while Pinkie grabbed me by the leg and pulled me along towards my friends. I swallowed. “Oh boy.”