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The walk to my new boarding consisted of mostly silence and awkward looks, and we only really stopped two times, the first of which she was showing me Sugarcube Corner, which was apparently some sort of sweets shop, and the latter being where we helped out a colt, whose cart had turned over, obviously due to the fact that the roads became extremely scabrous the further one travelled from the town square. As we approached the river and the bridge that led across it, Bon Bon promptly pointed to one of the side streets. "We've arrived" she exclaimed as we trotted towards it. "Your house is on this street" After a few houses, we came across a h

Chapter 3 The Mare Who Caught His Eye The interior was just as well designed and ornate as the outside was. Most of the building was taken up by a large circular ballroom, as well as several other rooms off to the sides, most likely housing stairs leading up to sets of overlooking balconies, which protruded from the walls of the ballroom area. As I looked around, I noticed the mayor mare walk up to a large cork board, full of notes and pins. She then explained that this was the job offer board and that the jobs here were available to anypony who had the time. I obviously had quite a lot of time, so I grabbed a few notes from the board at ra

Chapter 2 Enter Ponyville I had already begun to feel the eyes upon me as I crossed a neat, well maintained bridge that let into the main populous of the area. Making quick glances to my sides, I noticed that my feelings were correct - most of the ponies of the town were stopping what they were doing and staring at me with their hateful eyes. As I continued to walk down what seemed like the main street, adorned with fresh grocery stands and sugar treat shops, with a road that had been fashioned entirely out of cobblestone, I spotted a rather large and official looking building straight ahead of me. As I approached it, I noticed what seemed

Chapter 1 Introduction Ponyville. Yet another new start in a new town. Things had been this way for quite some time now, after growing up as a young, scraggly colt in a run-down orphanage on the south side of the large, busy city known as Phillydelphia. Realizing from the start that most ponies don't like outliers with barely any vibrant colors in their manes, I slowly sunk into a depressive rut, my psyche being damaged constantly by others bullying me for having ugly skin, or an uncool hairstyle and colour, to the cooler mares and colts bringing me into their circles of friends only so that they could laugh at me behind my back, and ultima