The Fire: Campfire Tales

Now that furry stomachs are full, thoughts are beginning to turn to the final activity before bedtime: campfire tales.

“Paradise! Please tell us a story. Last time I had the most wonderful dreams about that place—" a husky voice begins to say, originating from a pale blue, muffin-marked earth pony. “Um...where was it again?”

“Oh yes! It was Marlot, Sweet Stuff, but Paradise didn't write that one — it was by Tarpan Hackney,” Magic Star answers. “Just like the story about poor Tessie — that was wonderful, too!” she shrills, remembering the tales which had so enchanted her, her enthusiasm contrasting with her usual soft manner. "And that's why Paradise's originals are so wonderful, because she reads so many amazing stories."

“Yeah, your yarns are better than any of ours,” Cherries Jubilee adds, admiringly, nudging Paradise who stifles a grin of pleasure at receiving the compliment, knowing the gruff earth pony did not give them lightly.

Paradise absorbs this praise with an expression of equinamity. “Thanks, gals. I would love to. But maybe someone else should go first,” she says, winking at Masquerade, whose eyes sparkle in return.

Thus redirected, the attention of the story-hungry ponies turns to others.

“Megan. I did so enjoy the story you told us about that funny mare, Bathsheba,” Sundance encourages, muzzle resting on the girl's lap.

The girl stifles a yawn, tired from the busy day and recent events. “I don’t know if I can, right now, Sunny. But, I would like to hear one of your tales about the Brighthouse.”

In another part of the log-seat ring, an unlikely request is made by the dignified Wind Whistler. “Ribbon, I do find your stories about Equestria to be quite excellent—" she begins, but is cut off by a snigger from Firefly.

“The bed-time story for foals! You, like that? Seriously?” she challenges.

Ribbon gives the latter a wry smile, as her horn lights up. “Oh yes!” she says, in a sugary sweet tone. “Fairy tales are just for little foals, unlike Danny’s ‘She-Mare fights Skeletor’ comic which is for big, strong warriors!”

Firefly blushes as the telepathic abilities of the unicorn reveal her secret. “No fair,” she grumbles.

“Anyway, while I would adore regaling you all with a pony tale, after the day’s events I just couldn’t do it justice,” Ribbon declines, with an apologetic look to Wind Whistler. “However, Posey was telling me such a delightful tale about her garden on the way here,” she suggests, volunteering the meek fellow foal-sitter beside her.

Thanks to the suggestions from Ribbon and Megan, the attention around the fire turns to Sundance and Posey, who — as Paradise continues to be reticent — are soon being entreated on all sides. However, both shy ponies wilt in the heat of their interest.

Sundance is the first to demur, mumbling into Megan’s green, dress-suited lap that she can’t think of a story.

Megan leans over the pile of pink mane on her lap and whispers into a furry, white ear. “Go on, I know you can do it, and we’d all love to hear it!”

But the bundle merely shakes its head, and she feels the frightened filly tremble.

“Oh, Sunny," Megan sighs, looking a little crestfallen, an expression shared by Fizzy and a number of other furry faces around the fire, but she doesn’t press the issue.

As Posey continues to hesitate, the girl offers another suggestion to divert them from the trembling pony in her lap.

“How about the first pony with a story to tell goes first? I s—” Before she completes her sentence, a pink pegasus with a three-tone blue, green/red mane excitedly raises her hoof.

“Me! Me! Mememe! I have one! Yes-yes I do-I do! Got a story right here—thought of it during dinner—you’ll all really enjoy it. It’s for all ages-'n'-all genres!”

The enthusiasm of the proposer is not matched by the others — though the herd is generally tolerant, there are a few groans from the more boisterous ponies.

“Are you sure, Whizzer? Don't you want a little more time to think? I believe—” Galaxy is also cut off.

"Yes-yes-yes-yes-yes-yes! I'm ready!" Whizzer nods furiously and leaps to her hooves, eager to begin. Megan shares a worried look with Galaxy but eventually assents.

“Thank you, well—" the girl begins to say, but gives up with a sigh, since the pegasus was already storming along. "Oh, well, off you go, then."

Whizzer starts well enough, setting out ideas that had come to her while they were engaged in putting out the fire earlier. The ponies on the log-seats lean in and prick their fuzzy ears to catch the words spilling from the eager pegasus.

It soon becomes apparent, however, that the ambition of the tale is grander than any mere campfire yarn as the filly hurries the herd at break-neck speed through a cast of no less than twenty characters. She is at pains to point out that certain of these, not all of whom are named directly, or consistently, are not ponies. She describes two as ‘Zardichars’ who breathe fire and have scaly wings, while another cluster are ‘Squirt-Eels’ and yet are also somehow ‘Tortoise-Blasters’ who breathe water and have hard shells. To this core cast are added cameo appearances of many more characters, some of whom are creatures with mystical powers — from storm-wielding ‘Chu-Chu Picks’ to wind-blasting ‘Sparrow Spikes’.

After this introduction, which she manages to cram in in just a couple of minutes, Whizzer embarks on a plot which mixes elements of high fantasy, detective story, drama, fairy-tale and romance. Each of the themes is associated with a different villain — five in all.

As the third sub-plot of the second alternative ending is embarked on in as many minutes, a hum of confused questions breaks out.

“Is Rapunzel the rabbit, or is that Roger?” Fizzy wonders.

“So... did they defeat the dragon with the horn of the basilisk, or the basilisk with the dragon’s horn?” North Star ponders.

“Did Hamlet kill Rosencanter and Guilded-Hooves, or was it MacBess?” Medley muses.

“Was it that Juliet poisoned herself because she found Poneo with Marecutio?” asks a pegasus in pyjamas, Heart Throb, trying to get Whizzer's attention with a white-slippered hoof.

As the confused murmurs increase in volume, the storyteller, becoming agitated, raises her voice and speeds up, leading cyclically to more noise and so on until Whizzer can barely be heard above the din.

Eventually, Surprise, one of the few ponies to keep up with Whizzer’s story, but who had become visibly more and more confused, leaps to her hooves.

“Make it stop! Won’t someone please make it stop!” she yells, before raising a hoof to her brow and flopping backwards over her seat and landing in a feathery heap.

As she does so, the other sillier ponies, Applejack, Fizzy and Sundance, burst into fits of laughter. Soon, general mirth breaks out around the campfire, until even Megan and the more mature mares of the herd are struggling to keep a straight face.

Wind Whistler, however, ever a paragon of self-control and sensitive to Whizzer's crestfallen expression, rises sternly, hushing them. “This is most uncouth. Surprise! Apologise to Whizzer.”

Surprise rises, still giggling a little, and approaches the other pegasus contritely, stuffing her mouth with her wing-feathers to avoid further outbursts. Once she is close, with a hiccupping guffaw, she skips forward and cuddles the motor-mouth affectionately.

Wind Whistler turns to address the herd. “Thank you for the story. It was a—a..." She tails off, the precise mare struggling to adequately sum up the chaos that she had just heard.

"—wonderful effort,” Ribbon finishes, and the pegasus nods gratefully.

“Yes... thank you, Whizzer,” a few chorus, politely.

“Mmmf—!” the storyteller tries to say that she isn’t finished, but her mouth is suddenly full of Surprise’s blond mane as the smaller pegasus’s poufy curl pushes into her face.

Whizzer gently pushes the huggy little pegasus away to continue her story, however, as she does so, she feels a pull at the base of her tail. Too late does she realise that the mischievous pony has turned the hug into a game of ‘steal the tail ribbon’.

“Hey!” Whizzer squeaks, as she feels her ribbon come away.

“Catch me, if you can!?” teases Surprise in a sing-song voice, leaping into the air, giggling, waggling the scrap of white fabric in her hoof.

Always up for an aerial chase, the speedster streaks into the darkness and is soon abreast of her much slower opponent, but the slippery pickpocket whisks away at the last moment. As Whizzer's manic pace causes her to overshoot, the chase continues, with Surprise wriggling, eel-like, in the smoky night air, her own red ribbon fluttering enticingly atop her receding withers.

A few shout encouragement to the pursuer, while wiser heads shake their heads at the silliness.

“But what did Kash Etchem do next?” wonders Twilight, gazing up at them, wanting to see the tale to its end.

In the lull, Ribbon nudges Posey, who starts nervously. The flickering faces of the ring of ponies turn towards her.

“Um, if you’re sure she’s finished,” Posey quavers, looking down at her hooves.

The audience grow restive. A few ponies yawn from the day’s exertions, and the less sensitive among them, notably Cherries Jubilee and Paradise, begin to grumble about the delay.

Firefly, less than thrilled by the suggestion that the gentle gardener deliver a tale, whispers something in Medley’s ear, prompting the other to roll her eyes. Both of them steal sly glances at the unfortunate earth pony, causing her to shrink down onto her log-seat in a state of involuntary percipience, struggling to collect her thoughts.

“I-I, I…” she stutters, helplessly, a tightness in her chest causing the words to sound at a pathetic high pitch.

Unable to bear the attentions of the ponies before her, Posey looks away from the circle into the blackness of the forest around her. Suddenly, the scene before her seems to dissolve, replaced by an image of her garden bower at sunrise.

Ribbon, who had conjured the image with her unicorn power of telepathy, sounds her voice in Posey's mind, ‘Deep breaths now.’

Posey steadies herself, releasing her constricted chest. The muttering ceases as she decisively clears her throat, forgetting the audience as she commits to the images of her plants, which form the basis of her tale. The ponies lean in as the soft-spoken, pink maned pony begins to speak.

“My tale begins with a group of gentlefolk, who live in a forest clearing, much like this one.” Posey gestures to the rustling, dim shapes of the creaking trees around them. “Now, this group was led by the proud Rose family, supported by the sister families of hefty Heather and bountiful Berry...”

Gaining confidence as the long-dwelled upon characters of her plants rise in her mind’s eye, she goes on to explain that this happy collective was threatened by three crooked families of brutes: the nasty Nettles, brash Buttercups and back-sliding Brambles.

As Posey gets into her stride, she rises from her crouched position to stand boldly on her log-seat. “Birch is known for his beauty,” she says, directing the gazes of the ponies to the delicate white of the distinctive tree-trunks, just visible in the moonlight. “While Ash is known for his gentle strength.” She points towards a cluster of the respective trees, but their identity is lost in the dim arboreal purlieu.

“Um, Night Light, please could you use your unicorn power to—?” she asks. The respective trees are lit up by the glowing horn of a deep-blue star-marked unicorn. “Thank you, dear.”

She continues to describe how Birch and Ash try to help Rose’s family, while ferocious Fir and cruel Cypress support Nettles’ brood.

"Master Nettle takes Madame Rose hostage and demands that she and the leaders of the Heather and Berry families leave the clearing. Mrs Heather, desperate to free Madame Rose, approaches an evil witch who gives her a poison to use against the Nettle family." Posey grimaces as she thinks back to the many invasions staged against her innocent vegetables by this particular garden bully.

“Mrs Heather gingerly holds the poison bottle in her strong hooves.” Her voice is heavy with real emotion as she nears the climax of her tale. "Its evil scent sickens her, and she almost throws the corrupt brew away, but thoughts of Madame Rose trapped and unable to bud—" Posey hesitates. “I mean, um, unable to breathe," she corrects. "—drive her to approach Nettle’s estate, which borders her own.”

Posey explains that Nettle estate was choked with his numerous brood, who peek out at the dignified Mrs Heather from the chaos of polluted soils and broken glass which they choose to live in. "In the midst of this baleful scene—"

A few around the fire look uncertain.

"—it means deadly or threatening harm," Paradise cuts in.

"Oh, yes, um. Anyway, in the midst of this dreadfulness is Madame Rose, tied up next to the ugly gargoyles of Nettle Manor, but Master Nettle himself is nowhere to be seen."

A hush descends and ears prick forward in anticipation.

“Beautiful Madame Rose sees what straits Mrs Heather has been driven to.” The earth pony's voice shakes with anxiety for her characters and the plants of her garden, remembering the tough decision she had recently had to make when weeding.

“Even though she was captive and might die, Madame Rose held up her head, brilliant red mane blazing, and said—" Posey clears her throat. "No!” Her feathery voice attempts to imitate a regal tone befitting, in her view, her garden's 'queen'.

Posey explains that Madame Rose would prefer to remain in Master Nettles’ grip than see Mrs Heather harm another on her behalf. "Mrs Heather is conflicted and hesitates and just at that moment, Master Nettle, who had been informed by his spies of Mrs Heather’s incursion, clatters into Nettle Manor in his carriage! With his wiry strength, he seizes the poison from Mrs Heather!"

"Oh nooo!" gasps Magic Star.

“With a sly grin, he gloats over Mrs Heather.” Posey attempts a low, monster-like voice. “Grr, I am evil and I will hurt your family. Grr!”

The poor impression causes a few winces, and Medley gives a sarcastic snort in response to a whisper from Firefly. But Posey is too wrapped up in the story to notice that her impression has not been entirely well received.

"Master Nettle drives immediately round to Mrs Heather’s house and upends the poison upon it." She blinks back tears. "Almost immediately Mrs Heather’s bountiful family begins to wither, growing thin and pale. Over the next days it seems like all of the Heather clan would pass away," she sniffles.

"Poor Heather, she was only trying to do what's right!" Magic Star cries.

"Buck up, it's just a story." Cherries Jubilee shakes her head at the melodrama.

Recovering herself, Posey continues, “Everyone expected Master Nettle to finish Heather off and throw all the good families out of the clearing. But he had not been careful with the weed-killer—" She checks herself. “—poison, I mean, and you see, you must always be careful where the water is draining, if you have to resort to such brutish methods.”

"Wait, what?" Cherries Jubilee furrows her brow. Other ponies also look perplexed, momentarily uncertain whether they were hearing a campfire tale or a lecture on gardening.

"Sorry?" Posey returns, her mind on the practicalities of weeding, and not immediately understanding their confusion.

“What happened to Master Nettle?” prompts Twilight, her light-pink face earnest.

“Oh! Yes, sorry. Well, under Heather’s home the soil was all sandy, because that’s where Heathers like to make their homes. And all this time the vial of cursed poison had been passing through the sandy soil and into Nettle’s home which surrounded hers!” She shakes her head sadly.

“Soon, the Nettle family became so sick that they had to relinquish Rose. Not only that, but—” Posey glows with pride, thinking about her own patch of hard-grown, healthy heathers. “—the hardy Heathers were able to overcome the poison and soon they were all just as healthy as ever!” She skips happily on her log-seat, and Magic Star similarly gives a pleased chirrup, a moiety of her glee for the story, but the greater share for her friend’s happiness.

"The magnanimous Rose family was not bitter towards Master Nettle and his brood and allowed the Nettles, Brambles and Buttercups to live on the edge of the clearing. And sometimes Madame Rose even allows her children to play with little Miss Buttercup, even though she's an ally of the Nettles. Buttercups are a lot nicer without brutish Nettles about—provided they are kept in check, or they get everywhere,” she finishes, prompting a friendly whicker of laughter from Ribbon.

“The end,” Posey sighs. “Thank you for listening.”

Magic Star leads the applause, which is loudest from those who are usually quietest. “You care about your characters almost as much as you do about the plants in your garden! It was wonderful.”

“A good story, but I—” begins Wind Whistler, who had been wearing a look of concern during the latter part of the tale, but she stops. Despite feeling that Posey's story suffered from more than a few logical inconsistencies, her pink eyes had discerned at the last moment the subtly shaking heads of both Ribbon and Megan, neither of whom feel that the sensitive earth pony was quite ready to face criticism. “I—er—did not want it to end.”

“Thank you, Wind Whistler,” Posey smiles. “That means a lot!”

Megan and Ribbon both give Wind Whistler a grateful nod.

Posey turns to Ribbon, gives her a special smile and thinks hard. ‘Thank you for before.’ she sounds in her mind, conjuring a picture of a bouquet of roses with a white ribbon around them.

The unicorn smiles, puts her hoof to her heart, and nods, her horn sparkling. ‘You’re very welcome; it was a wonderful story, and they’re beautiful,’

As the modest clopping-applause dies down, a few ponies — particularly Firefly and Medley, whose enthusiasm for the gentle, garden-based story had been the least — resume badgering Paradise.

Danny and Gusty, who have by now rejoined the circle, after completing their chores, loudly join in, hoping to have returned in time for one of the palm-marked pegasus's famous tales.

Paradise nods to Masquerade and both rise, prompting a murmuring crescendo. "Parade, Parade, Parade!" The chant is taken up around the log-ring, the nickname for the pair of besties.

“Ponies, humans, countrymares, lend us your ears,” they begin in unison. The crowd hushes, eyes sparkling, tails tucked in for the show.

***

Over the previous weeks, while the other ponies at Paradise Estate were preparing the camping trip, the pegasus and her golden companion had been planning their performance. The others had looked on curiously as one-by-one Masquerade had approached them with strange requests. Many a pony had wondered what she was up to, but she had just sparkled her green-gemmed eyes at them and told them to ‘wait and see’. Danny and a few others with larger roles understood that she was making a play, but only now does everyone fully realise that she wanted them to help her dramatise one of Paradise’s tales.

***

Paradise narrates that the location of her tale is the exotic, fantastical Kingdom of Saddle Arabia. "An oasis in the lonely desert where for miles and miles all that could be heard was the rushing of the dry wind over the endless dunes."

Masquerade signals to Gusty, who summons a magical wind, which the golden pegasus flexes her wings against — as the zephyr fights her feathers they vibrate to create an eerie 'whooshing' sound.

"But our tale truly starts in the grand throne room of the Saddle Arabian king," continues Paradise.

Medley and Megan join their voices to sing a choral passage. Masquerade gestures for Danny to sit on the log-seat and drapes a piece of tarp around his shoulders as a makeshift cloak.

"The ponies of the kingdom have come to petition the king to save their property from destruction by an evil dragon, but rather than request that the beast be slain, they blame the dragon's attentions on the activities of a unicorn pony called 'Vista Star' and demand that she be exiled. This Vista had done nothing wrong to summon the dragon, but her artistic talent was so great—" Paradise winks at Masquerade. "—that every time she completed a project, the dragon would devastate the kingdom to steal the artwork."

At a direction to Whizzer, an impression of a hubbub of angry, accented ponies is created. Masquerade holds up a roughly whittled horse’s head, courtesy of Danny, as an example of a 'sculpture' and a few of the ponies clop their hooves in admiration.

"The fearsome black-coated and bearded king sits on his majestic throne of glass, as he listens to royal petitions with a grim frown."

The herd rustle uncomfortably at the description, until Sundance pipes up. "Is the king a pony?"

Paradise, who had paused so the ponies could digest the description, immediately responds affirmatively that he is a unicorn.

"But he sounds like a monster?" Sundance replies, to nods of agreement from various rainbow-coloured faces.

Danny looks baffled, but his sister immediately understands. "They don't have dark coats here! Not like on the farm," she explains, noticing his confusion.

Paradise resumes, "It is common for the Saddle Arabians to be dark as night."

Once the exclamations and murmurs of disquiet die down, Paradise continues, "But, just like the night, their gemmed-eyes sparkle like stars."

The reference garners appreciative smiles from Galaxy and Fizzy and the other gem-eyed ponies.

The storyteller reminds the audience that the king is frowning down at his subjects who are petitioning him.

Danny screws up his face frownily, causing giggles from Fizzy and the sillier ponies in the audience. “Your King hears you," he intones, in as deep and manly a voice as he can manage. "And he is moved by your petition. The mare known as Vista Star is hereby banished from Saddle Arabia.”

On cue, sounds of approval are simulated around the campfire circle.

Wind Whistler gives a whistle of approval, as quietly as she can manage out of respect for the foals sleeping elsewhere in the campsite.

“Hear Hear!” Cherries Jubilee rumbles.

“Woo hoo!” Fizzy chirrups. She mimics a champagne toast by adding a mouth pop with her hoof and fizzing the water in her canteen with her unicorn power.

Paradise goes on to describe that, while most are approving, two ponies towards the back, a grey earth pony and sky-blue pegasus, are dismayed.

“Poor Vista! You don’t think she meant to draw the dragon down on everyone, do you, Petal Swirl?” Paradise voices one of the dissenting characters, mimicking Surprise’s high pitch, before turning to Masquerade.

“No, Mousefur. This punishment is quite illogical,” the golden performer replies, in role as the other dissenter, passably mimicking the logical pegasus Wind Whistler’s measured tones, setting off giggles throughout the audience, and even earning a rare smile from the mare herself.

Paradise narrates that Vista and her two friends try to contest the finding before the king’s most trusted advisors, the Council of Furbobs.

Masquerade places Heart Throb's fluffy white heart slippers, lent to her for the occasion, one on each hoof, and holds them up like puppets, to more giggles.

“Oh, wise Bob,” Paradise begins, in her high pitched Mousefur voice.

“No,” Masquerade replies in a masculine voice of pugnacious staccato, flexing a white slipper and pushing it into Paradise’s muzzle, which she wrinkles.

“Let her speak!” Masquerade immediately follows up in another, similar but more feminine voice, flexing her other slippered hoof so that it clutches at the first ‘puppet’ to draw it back.

“Oh, wise Bobbess.” Paradise maintains her voice through the slipper in her face, while also trying not to smirk at the silliness of the scene and to ignore the tickly sensation on her muzzle. “Please advise the king not to banish our friend Vista Star!”

“I agree!” replies the 'Furbob' that is currently not assaulting Paradise.

“No!” Masquerade bounces her other slippered hoof up and down on Paradise’s red mane, simulating the bob angrily jumping on Mousefur.

There is a surge of laughter as the scene grips the audience, the mirth infectious.

“Double yes!” The golden pegasus slides her other hoof up to Paradise’s head as she mimes the genial bob attempting to restrain the angry council-bob.

“Ow!” Paradise squeaks.

“Triple no!” Masquerade makes a gnashing sound as her furbob ‘puppet’ clutches Paradise’s furry white ear, simulating it biting Mousefur.

“Quintuple yes!” The 'bobess' replies and the performer mimes dragging the angry bob away. The laughter crescendoes, with some of the sillier ponies doubling up and banging their log-seats, delighted by the antics.

The scene over, Masquerade returns the prop to Heart Throb, to whistles and stomps of applause.

The golden pegasus waits for the noise to die down before continuing. “We are getting nowhere with these council-bobs,” she says as Petal Swirl. The deadpan statement sends many over the edge again, and Paradise has to wait before delivering her line.

“That big one bit me!” ‘Mousefur’ huffs — Paradise raises a hoof to her ear, which sends the ponies into another giggle-fit.

"Ah-ah!" Fizzy cries breathlessly, tears of laughter streaming down her muzzle. "No more!"

After pausing for calm, the storyteller explains that the two friends leave defeated, complaining about the behaviour of the Bobs. "Unable to prevent it, Vista Star is cast out into the desert, with nobody allowed to see her, on pain of joining her fate, for fear that the dragon would punish the kingdom further. But Mousefur and Petal Swirl were determined to see their friend, in defiance of the cowardly king’s edict, so they travel to Vista’s new home — a distant cave in the shifting wilderness of the desert sands."

Gusty resumes the desert sound-effect and a pink earth pony, whose faded pink tail conceals a seated flank of ice-cream cones, adds a soft wolf-howl, as of a distant wolf-pack.

“Oh, Vista Star! We will miss you so,” 'Mousefur' exclaims, squeakily.

“Mine own dearest Mousey,” Masquerade says in an exaggerated theatrical version of her own voice, before turning to her side and adjusting her features.

“I too will miss you,” 'Petal Swirl' replies. The smooth, much practiced, transition between the two characters draws admiring noises from around the circle.

Masquerade and Paradise approach each other and hug, prompting 'awws'. Paradise hides her white muzzle in Masquerade’s luscious two-tone greens while Masquerade noses herself under the former’s cherry mane. Faces thus obscured, they shake to simulate crying.

Seeing her cue, Heart Throb adds a tearful sound-effect. The plaintiveness of the tender pony’s sobs, and the high emotional moment, causes sniffles to break out around the log-seats. Indeed, the moment proves to be too much for a few, including the pony providing the wolf howl, Lickety Split, who falters.

Before everyone starts crying, Masquerade gestures to Heart Throb, who stops abruptly.

Paradise, through sniffles, explains that the three friends part company with hugs and sad goodbyes. She pauses for a moment to allow emotions to settle, before continuing, "Mousefur and Petal Swirl return to Vista’s home after many weeks have passed to find she has been kidnapped!"

“Oh, no! What’s this!?” 'Mousefur' exclaims, pointing her golden hoof at the ground near the fire, where Masquerade had previously drawn a paw print. “It must be wolves! They have taken her and eaten her all up!”

The revelation brings foalish gasps from Sundance and Fizzy.

“A reasonable deduction, but there is a crucial flaw in your reasoning—there is no sign of a struggle,” ‘Petal Swirl’ replies.

Paradise narrates that the two ponies track down the wolf pack, ready to fight, but hoping that there might be another explanation. "The wolves turn out to be friendly."

The pink ice-cream marked pony who had previously been providing the wolf-howl sound effect, having recovered, now yips happily. “Smelled dragon ruff! At pony home. Take pony.” She buries her head in her hooves, flattens her ears and adds a keening canine whine to give a scared doggy impression, which draws ‘awws’ from the softer ponies.

Paradise, a better storyteller than actor, rolls her eyes and squeals out her shock. “Ohhh… nooo!”

Masquerade simply hangs her head as 'Petal Swirl' reacts to the sad news, avoiding the temptation to overact.

The melancholy is broken by the perky voice of the pink ‘wolf’. “Help ponies find friend, ruff ruff!” The pony sits upright, faded pink mane falling about her face, and adds tongue-lolling and tail-wagging for good measure.

“Thank you, dear wolf.”

Forgetting that Mousefur is meant to be sad, Paradise leans forward and pats the actor's pink muzzle. “Good girl, Lickety Split!” she jests, prompting laughs throughout the audience.

Paradise continues the narration, relating that Mousefur and Petal Swirl are led by the friendly pack to the lair of the dragon. "The two companions' battle-gear clanks as they trot into the mountain’s depths to face the terrible foe."

At a signal from Masquerade, Galaxy, Applejack and Cherries Jubilee make a clattering sound by banging their canteens together.

Paradise leans forward, flames dancing across her snowy, cherry-framed visage and hazel eyes, as she describes the two friends entering the dragon’s lair. The more impressionable ponies in the audience, Fizzy and Sundance among them, already on the edge of their log-seats, hold each other’s hooves. Surprise, next to them, nibbles her wing-feathers anxiously. On the other side of the campfire, Ribbon is petting Posey who has buried her face in her fetlocks. A bold contrast is presented by the pink and turquoise forms of Firefly and Medley, who are drumming their hooves in eager anticipation of the dragony confrontation.

"The companions trot breathlessly onward through claustrophobic caves stinking of sulfur. Eventually, the close passages open out into a glorious, glittering cavern dominated by the dragon’s horde of gold, silver and artistic treasure. Among these they recognise something that makes their hearts leap — sculptures from the talented hooves of their captured friend, Vista Star!" As Paradise pauses for effect, Danny holds up a now half-whittled horse-stick ‘sculpture,’ eliciting admiring murmurs.

"Above the horde, sitting on a huge throne of glass, towers a monstrous, red dragon!" the storyteller crescendos.

The reveal, after the build-up, draws squeaks of fear from the softer parts of the log-ring, and shrill ‘oh noes!’ from sillier quarters. The hard-nosed Cherries Jubilee just grunts at the impractical nature of glass seating.

‘Awesome!’ exclaims a grinning Firefly, nudging North Star, but she doesn’t respond. The explorer is looking longingly upward, wings shifting restlessly with the ever-present itch to fly.

“Yeah, this is gonna be good,” Medley returns, giving a wry smile at their fellow scout's mute, upturned muzzle. She reaches past the smaller pegasus to wing-tap her bestie.

Paradise, who had been taking in the various reactions with the humble inner-smile of a proud craftsmare, presses on.

"At the base of the dragon’s foot-long claws, is the tiny form of Vista. She is manacled, but unharmed," she explains, to relieved sighs. "As Mousefur and Petal Swirl peer closer, it becomes apparent that the pony has her sculpting tools out and is being forced to work for her captor."

“What can we do!?” 'Mousefur' whimpers.

“Well, thinking logically, what are our options?” replies 'Petal Swirl'. Even in the tense moment, the phrase is so reminiscent of Wind Whistler that both Firefly and Medley snort with laughter.

Paradise narrates that the two ponies huddle back into the passageway to debate their approach.

“We are not fast or ferocious like our pony pal, Fire Feathers,” bemoans 'Mousefur'. Paradise winks at Firefly, who grins back.

“Nor as strong as my workmate, Cherry Beam!” Masquerade smirks at Cherries Jubilee, who flexes a bulging foreleg.

“Nor as magical as our friend, Wand Withers.” Magic Star blushes and shakes her head, looking down.

"After further debate, the friends recognise that violence is not the answer, because Vista could be hurt." This conclusion draws approving nods from the majority, the herd being generally violence-averse, with a few notable dissents from feistier characters.

“Boooring!” grumbles Gusty.

Paradise describes how the friends effect the plan of action. "Firstly, Mousefur sneaks up on Vista."

Masquerade beckons with her hoof but, strangely, no one responds. The audience gaze round in confusion and there is an awkward silence. Masquerade’s poised features are just beginning to show worry when she is startled by a loud noise.

"Surprise!"

The ponies’ spin round to look at the sudden source of the shout, which proves to be a mint-green, pink-maned earth pony on the opposite part of the fire who is grinning triumphantly down at the now upturned and giggling form of the white pegasus. Normally the perpetrator of astonishment, Surprise's shocked expression demonstrates that the soft-hooved assailant has given her a taste of her own medicine.

“Ya got me, Minty! Good one!” she titters from the ground.

The mint-green pony holds up her hooves proudly by way of explanation for her extraordinary sneakiness, displaying the thick, mismatching socks on all four that had muffled her approach.

Paradise, looking testily at Minty and Surprise for the improvised additions, explains that Mousefur has sneakily scuttled across the horde, wearing socks, just like Minty did.

“But Mousefur and Vista did not say ‘surprise,’ because that would have alerted the dragon,” she scolds, tutting at the still-giggling pair.

“Unlike some ponies who have more socks than sense,” Masquerade adds, gems flashing at Minty.

“Also, Vista did not fall about giggling like a silly feather-brains.” Paradise wags a hoof at Surprise.

The two ponies are far from cowed by these admonitions — at her first opportunity, Surprise mounts a feathery tickle-assault. With a squeal of laughter, Minty is soon rolling about in the dark on the dry earth behind the log-seats, at the other's mercy.

The sillier ponies, led by Fizzy, join in the giggles, but are swiftly shushed.

"Enough now." Cherries Jubilee easily separates the two, ushering them back to opposite sides of the fire.

Masquerade gives the impromptu usher a thankful nod and, with a quiet *ahem*, Paradise resumes the story, reminding the ponies that Mousefur had just approached Vista Star.

“Bobbins and bodkins!” Masquerade stage-whispers in her ‘Vista Star’ voice. “Do mine orbs discern in the flickering shadow beneath this scaly tyrant, the shape of mine own boon companion, Mousefur? Oh, how this sight stirs me to bitter joy, for thou hast put thyself in great danger on account of this poor artist.”

Paradise explains that Vista’s manacled hind-hooves prevent her coming any closer to Mousefur, who is cowering between the dragon’s huge, clawed feet.

“Ew, I hope they smell better than mine.” An audible mutter is heard from among the audience, causing titters.

"Minty, Minty, Minty!" A pink, balloon-marked pony tuts nasally, holding her muzzle, addressing the green pony next to her who has now removed her thick woollies and is engaged in speculatively sniffing them.

"Oh-err!" she starts, goofily. "Um... you didn't hear that."

"I wish I didn't smell it, either..." Pinkie shakes her head.

Ignoring the interruption, Paradise explains that Mousefur does not approach, fearful of exciting the dragon’s notice. "She gives a whispered greeting from her hiding place and gabbles out an outline of her plan, terrified of the beast above her. Vista pretends to work on her sculpture all the while, until the dragon becomes suspicious. She thinks a moment, tinkering away, the little grey Mousefur peering out at her from beneath the throne, gemmed-eyes twinkling wonderingly... but eventually Vista's mind is made up. Heart in her mouth, she hails the dragon."

“Oh, majestic Dragon lord!” 'Vista Star' declaims. Masquerade nods to Danny, cueing him in.

The boy squints at his lines, dimly lit by the firelight, before replying in a deep, throaty ‘monster’ voice, “Yes, my jewel, how goes the work?”

“The wonder of thy visage requires gems of such magnificence that this humble subject’s unworthy and pitiful orbs discern none that are suitable among thy mighty horde.”

At another signal, a blood-curdling roar causes whinnies of fear from the timid ponies in the group, and even the normally unflappable scouts swivel their eyes around in alarm looking for the ‘monster’. The diminutive Surprise, the inexplicable origin of the sound, coughs, pats her chest and returns their incredulous looks with a tongue-poke.

Paradise explains that the dragon is angered by the delay.

“My horde contains the greatest treasures for a thousand leagues! If nothing exists that is so magnificent as to compare with the true article—” Danny pauses for Paradise to explain that the vain dragon preens into a huge crystal mirror above him. “Then you must make do. And, if you refuse to finish, I will crush you like an ant.”

Paradise narrates that the monster raises up one of its great feet, as if to stomp on Vista, causing Mousefur, who had been hiding behind the dragon’s legs, to scuttle further away, behind the throne.

“Oh, great Wyrm, I have heard of wonderful jewels of viridescent emerald that lie in the belly of the mountain of the phoenixes. Only these are capable of capturing the radiance of your eyes,” 'Vista Star' proposes.

The ‘dragon’, having finished reading his lines, sits down on his log-seat.

Paradise explains that the beast ultimately accepts Vista’s suggestion, which appeals to his vanity. "But the friends' plan meets a hitch when he taps the gigantic crystal mirror with his mighty staff which, with a flash of magic, summons the image of a hooded pony. Rather than abandon his lair to acquire the gem, as the friends had expected, the dragon commands this servant to search for him!"

Around the log-ring little furry muzzles murmur discontentedly as they share the disquiet of the fictitious friends. "To think! A pony helping a brute like that!"

"Just like that rogue, Knight Shade," Ribbon hisses, prompting growls, many still angry about that pony's actions in service to his shadowy master.

Paradise raises her hooves to quieten the murmurs and goes on to explain that the third part of the plan, unshackling Vista, would have to wait.

"There is nothing that Vista or Mousefur can do, so she returns to Petal Swirl, tail between her legs."

At the high emotional moment, Paradise declares an interlude.

Masquerade and Paradise rise, to raucous applause and stomping.

Megan approaches them, her eyes gleaming. “It's going wonderfully, Paradise! I feel so sorry for Vista, and you do such a good job of bringing everything to life, Masquerade.”

Nuzzling the girl thankfully, Paradise scents something delicious. Giving a delighted horsey snort, she discovers the two toffee apples the girl had been keeping as prizes for the best story. After tossing one of the treats to her bestie, they retire together to their log-seats, receiving many an appreciative pat as they pass.