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Dinky Doo's TravelsA filly's Cuteceñera.
The one defining moment in her life. The time when all her friends and family gather around to celebrate that she found her special talent in life. The moment that she realizes what she is meant to do to help all of Equestria.
Dinky's had postponed hers for almost two years as she prepared for her journey. For most ponies, a Cuteceñera was a time that they were declared an adult by Equestrian standards. But today was also bittersweet for the young filly. Pacing nervously outside of Sugar Cube Corner while all her friends inside were having fun, the young unicorn looked to her mother as she spoke with a twinge of fear and worry in her voice. "Mom, will you be okay after this? I may be gone for a long time..."
Ditzy Doo reached out with her forehooves, grasping her daughter's face as she leaned forward. Resting her brow to her daughter's, the grey Pegasus' eyes brimmed in tears to show the sadness mingled with hope this day held for her. "My mu
A Dark Cloud Returns Chapter 1"Thank you, Twilight!" Sweetie Belle bobbed her head in thanks, the perfectly styled pink and purple mane the white unicorn moving in one fluid motion due to the product keeping it in place. "I'm sure these old books on finding a Cutie Mark will be a great addition to our clubhouse!"
Twilight Sparkle waved a hoof dismissively as she kept her nose buried in a book, the purple unicorn's horn glowing to take notes. "That's fine. You're helping me out by also taking that box of old bottles and vases from Canterlot!" Looking up, the elder unicorn smiled as politely as she could. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have some very important research to finish up here for Princess Celestia on the effects of migration patterns on the flora of the Everfree Forest!"
The younger white unicorn swallowed hard at knowing that tone all too well from hearing it used by her sister. Gripping the handle of her wagon, she galloped out of the library tree as she pulled the box of books and glass as quickly as she
A Bloody, Stupid Miracle The day we’d cured the human condition was the day I put a bullet through my head and didn’t die. It was also the day I realized how scared I actually was of death, and after hours of muscle ache from holding that gauze against my open skull, after the wound closed and everything went back to normal, I had myself a good old-fashioned brainstorm. How ironic.
But when summer came, everything had fallen to shit. The air scorched my skin and parched my tongue every time I took a breath. The sun glared down on a rapidly-collapsing world, full of the undying bastard children of cruelty and misfortune. What was one to do when their cells regenerated faster than they decomposed?
My feet hit the pavement, now littered with jagged bits of glass to snap at my toes, thoroughly baked by the blazing ball of bitter disdain high overhead. Today was worse than yesterday. Though I’d often wondered the purpose of it anymore, I
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