Just a week ago, even talking to a cuddly little pony (without any threats involved) would’ve been unthinkable.
 
Of course, so would running away from his pack, not to mention his whole life. And now, here he was in a town literally called Ponyville.
 
Fizzle leaned back on the park wall and looked around to his left, really taking in the new town for the first time. This was definitely rush hour. The ponies all crowded past each other, looking for whatever they could add to their hoard. Ponies worked that way, right?
 
He took a bite out of his weekly allowance. For once, going out wasn’t going as bad as he thought. Sure, he’d burned all his bridges, and all his ‘friends’ were out for his head. And he’d been chased from his cave, to a thatched, two-story house he could burn to the ground with a snore. And his hoard was in a shoe box right now, which was all his landpony would let him keep.
 
But he sort of had a job now helping around the house, and he’d picked out a good hiding spot. What were they gonna do, go looking for a dragon in a pony town?
 
Maybe I should just go native. Fizzle chuckled at himself, almost dropping the gem, then thought.
 
What if I could…?