Pillowfort
Garion gasped and bounce-rolled his way over to Gear. "What what what what is iiiiiit?~" he sang-song in tune with her. Springing to his hooves he rapidly galloped in place on the springy floor. "What's the idea, Miss Gear? Tell me? Pleeeeeeease?" Gear found herself on the receiving end of a pair of wide, pleading, heart-melting foal eyes.
[Grief's Cafe]
A chill wind blew through the bar. An ill omen of dark times to come, when the hearts of ponies fail and Harmony lies shattered on the cold shores of chaos and uncertainty. A time of unleashed storm, rampant wild, and rebellious magic. Sandy covered himself in his wings, and shivered horribly.
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Outside the bar, a pair of colts casually slid shut the window they'd just accidentally bumped open, and trotted away with an innocent whistle.
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"I...think I need more root beer," Sandy said flatly, turning back to the bar. Some days, one root beer float wasn't enough to prepare a stallion for the troubles of this world.