[ Across the street, at 837 Hastings, there's a small blond girl with a popsicle idly watching this purple-haired pony. She didn't seem particularly interested, just bored with nothing else to focus on. It was the lethargy that marked her as anything other than a drone: after all, drone children played, laughed, and chatted aimlessly.
She wasn't going to let the fact that a purple-haired pony was living across the street surprise her-- she'd already met Applejack, and somebody of her age didn't express shock at seeing something they'd already seen once before.
That changed once Rarity opened her package and-- DID SHE JUST SUDDENLY GROW A HORN!?
Yeah, mouth opens, popsicle drops to the ground forgotten. ]
Hastings Blvd.
She wasn't going to let the fact that a purple-haired pony was living across the street surprise her-- she'd already met Applejack, and somebody of her age didn't express shock at seeing something they'd already seen once before.
That changed once Rarity opened her package and-- DID SHE JUST SUDDENLY GROW A HORN!?
Yeah, mouth opens, popsicle drops to the ground forgotten. ]
WHAT THE HELL JUST HAPPENED!?!?!