Violetta shook her head. "I don't even know what I'm doing here, wherever this is. I just found myself here, and I don't know of anywhere else.
"So what were they angry about? Did something go wrong?"
"Nope, just some no-good ponies were sore I didn't want no part in their funny business. Rascals managed to turn the whole place on me on account of-wait, what?!" He poked at his ears, making sure they weren't playing tricks on him. No ringing, no fuzziness, he'd just heard what he just heard. "Now just hold up a second; you're saying you got no clue where you are, or what the hay you're doing up this far north?" He'd heard tales of ponies, addled by magic or a little too much to drink, waking up in the wastes with clean slates, but that's all that was; tall tales.
Last edited by TheAmishPirate; 2012-09-28 at 02:26 AM.
Originally Posted by Eakin
We're like the weeping angels from Doctor Who, except with cuddling and friendship instead of horrible death. Don't look away.