“Absolutely not!” Igneous practically shouted at Limestone across the table. She remained unfazed, her fierce glare fixed on her father. I stood beside her, showing my support.

Over the last two days since the train station, we had grown closer—cracking jokes on the field, and helping each other with the work, though I definitely needed more help on that one than she did. But despite the good times, there was still this heavy tension that had settled over the farm.

“Why not?! It’s been two days! We can’t just stay here, burying our heads in the sand, hoping everything will be alright! We need to know what happened!” Limestone insisted.

Cloudy wore a complicated expression, her lower lip bitten in worry. She kept glancing between her daughter and her husband, clearly torn. Marble stared a hole into the table, her front hooves pressed down heavily. Maud had the most serious expression I had ever seen, her eyebrows drawn one inch tighter near her eyes.

The train still hadn’t passed in the last two days, which was apparently highly concerning, given the family’s reactions. Information traveled slowly here, news from the capital could take days to reach distant locations, conveyed only by word of mouth and hooves. Unfortunately, this also meant that the letter Maud had written for me couldn’t be delivered—the Mailmare hadn’t shown up to collect it.

“And that be why we’re waitin' for the guards, and that be final,” Igneous declared firmly.

“They’re not coming! Don’t you understand?!” Limestone shot back. She was breathing hard, the shouting match with her father combined with the weight of her emotions taking a toll on her.

“I am NOT lettin' my daughter go to the next town over and into danger!” He banged the table with his hoof, startling Marble.

“But Pinkie can? How is that fair?” Limestone challenged. Those words seemed to hit her father hard, causing him to wince.

“That be not the same thing, and ye know it. Pinkamena wasn’t… happy at the farm,” he struggled to say, the emotional pain evident in his voice. “She be part of the Elements of Harmony, as are her friends. Ye are not.”

“I’m a grown mare! I’m not a filly anymore! I don’t need you to watch over me all the time!”

Igneous shook his head. “And what happens if ye’re taken by surprise? Or if ye get hurt? Who be going to take care of ye?”

“Maybe we should all just calm down—” Cloudy began.

“Oblivion can go with me!” Limestone said firmly, cutting her mother off and making me glance at her in surprise, warmth blooming in my chest. While we had grown closer, it was one thing to know it and another to have the other person actually acknowledge it.

That seemed to ignite a spark of rage in Igneous, his eyes narrowing at me with reproach and distrust. But deep within those eyes, I caught a glimpse of fear—a fear I had seen in myself many times when looking in the mirror.

“Oblivion can’t protect you; he be barely able to work in the field. He’d be a liability.”

I grimaced, the words stung more than I was willing to admit. But he was right. The sisters were far stronger than I was, more knowledgeable about the land, and not trapped in an unfamiliar body.

“I—”

“Don’t talk, Oblivion,” Limestone interjected with a stressed sigh, then turned back to her father. “He’s the best choice. You and Mom are too old for the journey. Maud needs to stay at the farm, to protect you, and in case something goes wrong, and Marble…” She hesitated, glancing briefly at her sister. “Marble is too scared.”

Marble flinched at those words, her face scrunched in a frown, eyes shut tight. She was shaking, her hooves pressing harder into the table, making it creak under the pressure.

“We’ll keep an eye on each other. I trust him,” Limestone concluded, and a heavy silence settled over the room.

Another wave of warmth washed over me. Goddamn, did this mare even realize the effect she had? She wasn’t even trying to tease me, yet she was stirring up more butterflies than all her playful flirting over the past few days combined.

Igneous closed his eyes, taking a heavy breath before exhaling with a sagging body as if a puppet master had cut the strings holding him up. In that moment, he looked older.

“Ye’re going either way, aren’t ye?” It was not a question; he knew his daughter well. He had raised them all, after all.

Limestone nodded, her anger subsiding but her resolve unbroken. “I am.”

Igneous looked deep into his daughter's eyes, searching for anything that would contradict her words, but seemed to find none when he slowly nodded.

“Alright.” He said it quietly, softly. Cloudy leaned in, nuzzling his neck and wrapping her hooves around him from behind in an attempt to comfort him. If the topic weren’t so heavy, it would have been the cutest thing I’d ever seen.

When Limestone noticed her father had nothing more to say, she turned to me. “Come on, let’s go prepare.” With that, she trotted out of the house, without a second glance.

As I turned to follow, I cast one last look at the table. Cloudy was murmuring to her husband, her body pressed against his. He seemed to listen but gave no response. Marble had disappeared from her place, Maud staring at the spot where she had been, in a pose that I now recognized with concern.

What a mess, I sighed.

I stepped outside, following Limestone into the fading light. She was already trotting across the field, her pace filled with vigor but also tinged with frenetic energy I recognized as the result of too many emotions swirling inside her. I galloped to catch up, noting the frown etched on her face.

The usual sun was absent, gray clouds obscuring it in the sky. The wind had picked up considerably, making me wince as dust stung my eyes. It was the first day without sunshine, leaving a sense of discomfort in its wake.

“You alright?” I asked, concern creeping into my voice.

“No, but thanks for asking,” she replied, her eyes fixed ahead as she continued her trot.

“You want to talk about it?” I suggested, hoping to help, somehow.

She shook her head. “Oblivion, I appreciate your concern, but now’s not the time. Let’s just gather what we need for the trip.”

“…Right.” I sighed, falling into step beside her.

We arrived at a small wooden shed not far from the cottage. Limestone pushed the door open without a second thought, letting a cloud of dusty air escape. I coughed heavily as I accidentally inhaled some of it, waving my hoof in front of me to disperse the particles. Inside, the shed was filled with various mining tools—pickaxes, carts, and even helmets—but Limestone seemed to ignore it all as she beelined for a well-used satchel. She picked it up, brushed off the dust, and opened it, searching through its contents.

I sat a couple of paces behind, unsure of what to do or how to help. As I took a closer look, I noticed a strange mix of party-related objects and mining tools. One of the pickaxes still had deflated balloons attached to it, while some of the helmets sported party hats. Some even featured little drawings, which clashed hard with the image I had of the family.

The really odd part was the numerous banners hanging from the walls, most of them celebrating birthdays, with names scribbled across them. Others celebrated peculiar holidays, like ‘Hearth’s Warming’ or the very pink ‘Hearts and Hooves Day’, which was plastered with hearts—lots of hearts.

I continued to scan the room, poking at various tools and party supplies with curiosity, when my gaze landed on a huge cylindrical object in the back of the room.

Is that a fucking cannon over there?

“Alright, everything’s still in here. We just need to stock up on a day’s worth of food and water.” Limestone tossed me a canteen, which I caught with my hooves, grateful for the practice from the days before that kept it from falling. “Go fill it up at the kitchen sink. I’ll handle the food.”

“Right, on it.”

I picked up the canteen with my mouth, grimacing at the lingering dust, and trotted out of the shed back toward the cottage. Since I wasn't confident enough to walk on three legs yet, using my mouth was my only option.

The trot back was uneventful. No one was working after the heavy conversation we’d had earlier. The atmosphere felt heavy and devoid of energy, the usual sounds of clattering tools and moving rocks replaced by an unsettling silence. It just didn’t sit right with me.

Inside the cottage, the dining table sat empty, the rest of the family having cleared out. As I made my way to the kitchen, I caught sight of Igneous, his back to me, sitting on his haunches and holding a framed picture of his family. I—I… wasn’t sure how to feel about that, but I knew I didn’t want to disturb him.

My relationship with Igneous was… complicated. He irritated me to no end, and I could count on more than four hooves the number of times I wanted to throw something at him. Yet, he wasn’t a bad pony.

We tolerated each other for the sake of his wife and daughters, but I didn’t genuinely want him to suffer. He was just a grumpy dad, trying to protect his family from harm—whether that harm was an unknown danger lurking outside town or an unfamiliar stallion knocking at his door.

He was just doing his best.

I spat the canteen into my hoof when I finally made it to the kitchen, the taste still lingering uncomfortably on my tongue. With my now-mastered hoof magic, I easily turned on the tap and filled the canteen with water. After it was full, I shut off the tap, only to hear the sound of ‘clip-clop’ hooves behind me. I turned around to find Cloudy, blankets draped over her back.

“Here, dearie, take these blankets,” she said softly, placing the warm items on my back. “It be cold at night. Ye’ll need them.” She glanced at me, concern etched on her face. “And don’t fret about what that old stallion of my husband said. Ye’re doin' good work on the farm, and we all appreciate it. He be just… scared for his little fillies.” Her gaze drifted to the window as if lost in thought.

“Thanks, Mrs. Pie. I really appreciate it,” I replied sincerely, offering her a warm smile.

“Ah, none of that ‘Mrs.’ around me,” she said, waving a dismissive hoof. “No need to remind me how old I am. Just Cloudy be fine.”

“Alright, Cloudy,” I chuckled. “Thank you for your help.”

“Ye’re welcome.” She smiled back. “Now run along, I’m sure a certain daughter of mine be waitin’ for ye.”

I nodded, a grin on my face, and started to trot back when I heard Cloudy’s voice call out after me. “Oh, and dearie?”

I turned my head, curious. “Yes?”

“Do be careful out there. I wouldn’t want anythin’ to happen to my future son-in-law,” she said with a twinkle of mirth in her eyes.

I sputtered, momentarily taken aback by her words, then began a rapid retreat from the kitchen, the sound of her amused chuckles trailing after me.

Having tactically escaped the bane of all bachelors, a wannabe pushy mother-in-law, I slowed my gallop to a slow trot. Just as I was about to push open the front door, I spotted Maud, her body blocking my path.

I halted. “Um, do you need something?” I asked, uncertain.

She nodded and pointed toward one of the windows. I glanced over, following her hoof. Outside, sitting alone in the far corner of the field, was Marble, gazing back at the horizon.

“Can you go comfort her?” Maud asked in her trademark monotone. Yet, her body language revealed a different story; she was clearly concerned for her sister.

“Why me?” I questioned, hesitant. “Wouldn’t you be better? You are sisters, after all.”

She shook her head. “I have… difficulties expressing myself to others. Even my sisters can sometimes struggle to understand me.”

“But I’m a stranger. I don’t know her like you all do.”

She stared at me, her blue eyes piercing through my own. I didn’t know how, but somehow, I could feel her fierce need for my help as if her gaze held an unspoken plea.

“Sometimes, talking to a stranger is easier than to somepony you know.”

I continued to stare at her in indecision, before slowly nodding. If she thought I had a better chance of helping Marble, then I’d give it a shot. Still, a wave of doubt washed over me. What if I messed it up? I didn’t want to make things worse.

Shaking my head to dispel the negative thoughts, I passed Maud and stepped outside. The trot to her location wasn’t long, and before I knew it, I was slowly making my way toward Marble, making enough noise to announce my presence without startling her. Her ears perked at the sound, but she remained still, her gaze fixed on the horizon.

“Hey,” I said quietly, the wind almost drowning out my voice. “You alright?”

No response. She just kept staring, lost in whatever thoughts occupied her mind. I glanced back toward the shed, then let out a sigh as I settled down beside her. Fuck, was I really bad at this kind of thing, but I couldn’t just let her stew in her own thoughts.

To be honest, Marble was the family member I had interacted with the least. I didn’t know her as well as the others, even Igneous. But the way she had been acting this morning—something was clearly bothering her.

“I’m weak, aren’t I?” she said softly.

It wasn’t the first time she’d spoken to me directly, but it was the first time she’d said so many words. Since I arrived, her responses had mostly been ‘yes’, ‘no’, ‘sorry’, or the occasional ‘Mm-hmm’.

I shook my head. “If you’re weak, then what am I? You push those rocks like they’re made of air.” I chuckled lightly.

She shook her head, her gaze still fixed on the ground.

“That’s not what I meant,” she replied quietly. With her hoof planted on the ground, she slowly moved it, displacing pebbles and dust until it stopped near a fallen leaf. Just before she could touch it, the wind picked up and sent the leaf flying away. Her eyes followed it wistfully.

“I avoid you all the time. I hide behind my mane like a little filly, too scared to face reality. Even now, talking to you, I still can’t look you in the eyes.”

I didn’t respond. I wasn’t sure what to say.

“I’m always in my sisters’ shadows,” she continued, her voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t have Limestone’s confidence, or Maud’s expertise, and even less of Pinkie’s social butterfly charm. I’m just Marble—the shy one, the one always hiding behind her mane, the one… ponies forget.”

I grimaced at her words. Unfortunately, I had to admit that I’d sometimes completely overlooked her presence. She was so withdrawn and quiet that my brain had sort of just... erased her from my awareness. Most of our previous interactions consisted of me bumping into her and not even realizing she was there. It was obviously my fault, yet she was always the first to apologize.

“And I can’t even blame anypony because it’s all my doing,” she said while looking at her hooves. “I’m pathetic.”

“Not at all! Listen… you’re just shy, and that’s perfectly okay! Hell, you’re talking to me right now, no? That’s got to count for something! I’m sure you’ll find your own strength in time.”

“That’s kind of you, but you don’t need to make excuses for me.”

My mouth opened on instinct to reply, but nothing got out, making the silence between us even more uncomfortable.

“Listen, I—uhm… I’m not good at this kind of stuff,” I finally said.

The words trailed off as the wind picked up, swirling our manes with its force. I searched for something to say, but my mind came up blank. The silence felt heavy, charged with unspoken thoughts. I wished I could offer her something—comfort, understanding, anything—but the right words just wouldn’t come.

She smiled sadly. “Thank you for listening.” With that, she lifted herself up and trotted back toward the cottage.

I sighed heavily, feeling the weight of her words linger in the air.

Shit.

“Why is everything so complicated?” I murmured to no one, letting the wind carry my words.

“What happened to you?” Limestone startled me back to the present. I must have spaced out after Marble left. Her eyebrow was raised in confusion at the blankets snugly draped around my back. The satchel she wore was packed to the brim, but she didn’t seem to feel its weight. “You didn’t come back.”

“Sorry,” I winced. “As for these,” I said, gesturing to the blankets, “they're your mother’s gift for our little journey.”

She nodded, a small smile appearing on her lips. “Right, I almost forgot how cold it gets at night around here. She chose the colors well; they suit you.”

“Well, one’s for you too,” I said, pointing to the other blanket. “And of course it fits me. Everything fits me.” I joked.

“Wow, narcissist much?”

I shrugged. “What can I say? It’s a burden being this handsome.” To be honest, I was relying on her earlier reaction to my body for validation. My taste for beauty felt a bit skewed. On one hand—hoof, my human brain saw a cute little horse I wanted to hug to death. On the other, the ‘pony’ brain in my body appreciated the curves and toned figures of the sisters. The unique musky scent wafting from Limestone was also doing wonders for my little buddy downstairs. And I really didn’t know how to react to that.

She sighed. “I really shouldn’t have complimented you, now your ego is bigger than Holder’s Boulder.”

Holder’s Boulder was the massive egg-shaped rock sitting in one corner of the farm. On my first day of work, Limestone made me think I had to transport it across the field, which left me blanching in fear. She must have relished the look on my face because that was when her teasing really kicked into high gear.

“Well, consider it payback for all the teasing you’ve been dishing out since I got here,” I said with a grin.

She grimaced, her expression shifting. “Don’t tease me too much, you know I’m in heat right now. Do you have any idea how hard it is to not buck your brains out right now?”

My eyes widened in shock, her declaration catching me completely off guard. The weight of her words settled heavily, and I felt my breathing catch in my throat. A warmth spread through my body.

“Whoa, so you can blush?” She chuckled, clearly amused by the heat spreading across my face. I grumbled, glancing away and desperately trying to conjure up the least sexy thoughts imaginable.

“Shut up,” I muttered, the glimmer in her eyes only growing stronger.

“Don’t worry, we’re not rutting while I’m in heat. I’m not ready to be a mother yet,” she said with a mischievous grin. “Can you imagine the logistics of having a foal with an alien? Would they alternate weeks, spending time in each other’s worlds?” She burst into laughter at her own joke, and I couldn’t help but snort, rolling my eyes at her antics. At least she seemed to be feeling a little better than before, which lifted my spirits too.

A thought crossed my mind as I replayed her words. “Wait, don’t you have contraception here?”

She looked confused for a moment, then something clicked. “Eager, huh?” she smirked, the scent of her excitement becoming more pronounced. “No, only unicorns have that fancy magic stuff,” she said, waving her hoof dismissively. “Us earth ponies? We don’t have that kind of cheat.”

“Then what do you have?” I asked, genuinely curious.

She grinned, her tail swishing more energetically. “It’s simple, really—you pull out.”

I blinked, momentarily taken aback. “Huh. Really?”

She nodded. “That’s why you see way more earth and pegasus ponies compared to unicorns; accidents happen.”

I nodded, strangely intrigued. It weirdly made sense, and the subject was unexpectedly interesting. Limestone had recently filled me in on the differences between each type of pony, so I was learning a lot more than I ever anticipated.

Earth ponies were the most common in rural towns, and while they resembled the ponies back home, they had a unique connection to nature. They wielded a kind of magic—an affinity for the earth that allowed them to sense and manipulate the land around them. That weird sensation I felt when I first arrived? That was the literal magic of the land itself, coursing through my hooves. They weren’t just good at harvesting crops, for the Pie family, it was also all about rocks.

Then there were the pegasus ponies. They could fly, thanks to their wings, and they had the ability to walk on clouds and control the weather. The gray clouds looming overhead weren’t just an oversight; they were evidence of the absence of a weather pony, who should have cleared the skies. But they hadn’t shown up—just like the train.

The unicorns were the third type, easily recognizable by the horns on their heads, which allowed them to perform magic—think Horsey Trotter style. Unfortunately, that meant I was definitely not the chosen one. My magical prowess with my hooves was more on par with a foal's, which really took my confidence for a spin when I learned about it.

There was a fourth type: the alicorns. Only princesses could be alicorns, and they possessed the combined powers of all three other types. Talk about overkill! Currently, there were only three alicorns: Princess Celestia, her sister Princess Luna, and their niece, Princess Mi Amore… something.

“Pulling out is still too risky. We’re not doing it, stud. I’m not taking any chances.”

I blinked in confusion, then stuttered, “I-I wasn’t implying anything, it was an honest question! And stop calling me ‘stud’—you know I hate it!” I crossed my arms and pouted.

She let out a cackle. “That won’t work on me, Oblivion. I’ve spent enough time with you to know when you’re joking and when you’re actually serious.”

She had a point. I wasn’t really upset with her. Admitting that, though? That felt like admitting defeat to this mare.

“One day,” I said, making her pause, “One day, I’ll find dirt on you so embarrassing you won’t dare tease me anymore for fear I’d expose it to the world.”

She smirked. “Go on, try your best. I’d love to see what you come out with.”

We exchanged a moment of playful tension before bursting into laughter.

“Alright, enough wasting time. Let’s get going,” she said, waving her head to signal that we should move. She glanced back at me, before taking a moment to secure the load of blankets and the canteen so they wouldn’t fall during the trip.

“…Right, and where are we going, exactly?” I asked, grateful for her help.

She opened her satchel to pull out something. It was a map, which she spat out onto her hooves and pointed west, at one of the little towns on the large scroll. “The next town over, Dodge Junction.”

I paused, scrutinizing the text before realizing I couldn’t read any of it. “What kind of name is that?”

“What do you mean?” She glanced at me, clearly confused.

“The name’s weird. And what’s the name of this place, anyway?” I waved a hoof around.

She raised an eyebrow. “The farm’s called the Rock Farm, and the territory around it is Rockville.”

I looked at her with a deadpan expression. The Rock Farm and Rockville? Seriously? Did they have anything more imaginative? Limestone, Marble, Igneous—I got it, the rock theme, but come on!

“Of course it is. I should have known.” I attempted to facepalm with my hoof in frustration and somewhat succeeded. It did make me wonder why only Maud and this ‘Pinkie’ weren’t named after rocks.

“You really are strange about some things, Oblivion,” she said, rolling her eyes.

That’s not me being weird, it’s you, weird little talking horses that are weird!

We were trotting toward the exit leading to the train station when we spotted a group gathered for our departure. Igneous, Cloudy, and their two daughters, Marble and Maud, were all waiting for us.

Igneous seemed to have recovered from the earlier discussion; his face was calm. Cloudy smiled warmly when she saw us. Marble stared at the ground, her expression clouded with mixed emotions, but Maud gently nudged her, prompting a feeble smile from Marble. Maud's face was as stoic as ever, but as I had learned, it was her body language that told the story.

Limestone glanced at the group. “What’s this, an intervention?”

Her father snorted, shaking his head in exasperation. And then—

I gasped. He was smiling. Genuinely! I glanced left and right, half-expecting the grumpy old stallion I thought I knew to reappear.

“Ye know what it be, Limestone.” He approached her and pulled her into a tight hug, nuzzling her affectionately. “Just… be careful. For me.”

Limestone returned the hug, closing her eyes with a smile. “I promise, Dad.”

Gah! What’s this? Too much sweetness! I’m going to get diabetes at this rate!

Igneous ended the hug with a sigh before turning to me. I gulped, the anticipation making me nervous. “What? You gonna hug me too?”

He didn’t respond, just stared at me. I could feel the sweat forming on my brow as I waited for him to speak. Finally, he said, “Don’t break my daughter’s trust in ye. I don’t see what she sees in somepony like ye, but I love her with all my heart. So, I’ll give ye a chance. Prove me wrong.” With that, he turned away before I could respond. But I knew words wouldn’t matter; my actions would have to speak for themselves.

Next to me, Cloudy was hugging Limestone fiercely, checking her over to ensure she hadn’t forgotten anything. Limestone blushed, clearly embarrassed. “Mom, stop it! I’m not leaving forever; we’ll be back in a couple of days!”

“That be my job to worry about ye. Let yer mother indulge herself. Nopony be stoppin' me from frettin' over ye, not even Princess Celestia herself!” She planted a kiss on Limestone’s forehead, prompting a mix of eye-rolling and smiles from her daughter.

Cloudy then turned to me, wrapping me in a small but warm hug. But her next action sent a chill down my spine. Leaning in, she whispered in my ear, “I want three grandfoals. Don’t make me wait.”

The blush on my face deepened to the point where even Limestone caught it out of the corner of her eye, confusion etched on her features.

Maud simply hugged her sister, telling her to be careful, before extending a hoof toward me. I glanced at it, a second or two before comprehension dawned. I grasped her hoof with my own using my magic and shook it. “Take care of my sister,” she ordered.

“I think she’s more likely to take care of me,” I chuckled.

Maud nodded, seeming to agree with my assessment, and then stepped aside to let Marble approach me. Marble had just finished hugging her sister and now stood beside me, her eyes a mix of uncertainty and something else.

“Hey,” she said softly.

“Hey.”

Marble kept her gaze on the ground, one hoof nervously fretting against her upper leg.

“Um… sorry about earlier. I didn’t mean to dump all of that on you,” she mumbled.

“That’s alright. I wasn’t really… much help, sorry.” I winced, my ears drooping as I recalled our earlier conversation.

She shook her head. “You did help. It felt… good to let it all out.” She offered a small smile, still looking down.

I glanced at her, and an idea popped into my head. Why not?

“Hey, want to start over?” I smiled and extended my hoof toward her.

She looked at it, then followed my limb until her eyes met mine. Encouraged by my smile, her own brightened as she slowly nodded and took my hoof in hers.

“I think… I’d like that,” she said.

I grinned. “Hi, I’m Oblivion, the lost alien.” I shook her hoof gently.

She giggled, a faint blush rising to her cheeks. “Hi, I’m Marble Pie.”

With that, the heartfelt goodbyes were behind us. Limestone and I departed from the farm, waving our hooves in farewell.

Next stop: Dodge Junction, the town known for its terrible name.

Author's Note

Whoo-whee! That was a doozy of a chapter!
I hope you’re enjoying the reading as much as I enjoy writing it. The next chapter will certainly be the hardest for me. How’s that for a little hint?