"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.
"Of course. All I know is it's cold up here." Violetta shook her head. "I don't know where I come from, either."
She struggled with her clouded mind, then figured out something else to say. "Where are you going? You can't go back, can you?"