19th August. Sheen
There was another dreadful bang last night, and I am now certain that this means another of the ponies' houses has arrived none too far from us. I found the curate staring out of the window with an expression like he had bore witness to a dreadful phantasm, though under the circumstances I suspect a great many sights out of the window would've caused anybody to turn pale. The periodic thuds and shakes of the gigantic ponies walking around has occurred so often in the past couple of days that I don't really think too much of them, except to maintain a vigilance against discovery and apprehension by these colossal beings. Hearing my approach made him start and turn with alarm, but he calmed down upon seeing me, though I'm none too sure how calm he is. In as quiet a whisper as I dared I asked him what was going on.
"The bright blue one." He answered in a whisper that seemed to project rather more than mine. "She's come back, and she... she..." I could see that whatever had happened had been difficult for him to process, so I was just about to escort him away from the window and see for myself with a great voice rolled over our hide-out. I had thought it was a young male at first, though there was a secondary aspect that didn't quite fit, but by the time I could actually look I was proven mistaken.
"So when that ship fired on Spitfire, I rushed in to show'em what-for, but she swung quickly enough and got'em firmly under her hooves. 'Cor, you wouldn't believe the noise these metal ships can make before they get sunk!" When I pulled up to the window as the curate slunk off to whimper in the cellar from the force and nonchalant tone of the pony's voice I could see that the view was almost completely blocked by a wall covered in sky-blue fuzz. I was certain this was the same blue Pegasus I saw from the train, but to find that it had taken up a position that blocked us off without meaning to drove home just how vulnerable we were.
"Rainbow," This voice was familiar enough from the day before, "It's all very well moving to defend some-pony else but do you really have to recount such an attack with that much enthusiasm?"
"Oh, come on! If I had to fly all the way over the ocean like that, I might've made another sonic rain-boom, Twilight. These humans would surely find that awesome." I can now identify that the blue Pegasus is the 'Rainbow Dash' that was mentioned yesterday, though her vocal tone and mannerisms suggest that she is a dreadful tomboy. Some of the dialogue I have heard leaves me puzzled as it seems that they substitute fairly average 'personhood' terms with equine-esque elements, and there seems to be some strange aerobatic move available to the winged ponies that involve producing a distinctive sound.
"And if you saw a Pegasus the size of Canterlot Castle rushing towards you, would you consider it 'awesome'?" I couldn't fathom this sentiment coming from any of these ponies, especially one so proactive as Twilight has been. Come to think of it, how is it that they have given such a name to somewhere? It seems like a dreadful pun.
The rest of the morning's observations didn't amount to much, but there were some sounds being made suggesting that there was a picnic taking place, and I do not wish to speculate as to what kind of food they have. I did attempt multiple adjustments to my posture in the hope of looking past the blue wall Rainbow Dash made, but all I could see was that she'd taken up a position less like a horse or dog but more of a posture I last saw on a Boer on a hot summer's day in South Africa. This did allow me to determine that the wall I saw was her right hind leg, and I could see the mark on her hind flank with sufficient clarity; it was a white cumulus cloud with a lightning bolt emerging down her thigh that consisted of the three primary colours, highly reminiscent of her mane and tail.
In the afternoon, having left the window for a while to share out the day's rations, I returned to see that Rainbow Dash wasn't blocking the view any more. On the opposite side of the house from me I saw the orange pony and the bigger red pony wandering around in a methodical manner, though I couldn't discern any clear pattern and neither of them spoke of anything that could highlight their purpose. However their periodic exchanges alerted me to their identities: Apple Jack and Big McIntosh respectively. I could understand the former's name in part due to the presence of a depiction of three bright red apples on her flank, though I wonder about the use of the rather ordinary name 'Jack'; the latter is more of a mystery to me, for while he is certainly big the name 'McIntosh' for a giant pony is something of an enigma to me. I can safely say that the vocal tones and general dialogue among these giant ponies has confirmed that those with angular muzzles are the males while the ponies with more rounded muzzles are female.
There's not much more to say about the actions and conversations of these ponies at this particular time, so I would now wish to put down some speculations I shall make about them in the hopes that my reading them back after later observations will allow me to see their viability from a sensible perspective, but then maintaining sensibility under these circumstances is a struggle.
The first thing that I wish to contemplate is the myriad of bright colours their body coats come in. From what I had gathered from reading the works of Darwin there are only two purposes for a species to develop bright colours, attracting a mate or conveying a sense of danger to potential predators. I am quite certain that these ponies have no venom or poison in their bodies and, if there are any predators they have to worry about, they have gained access to means that render such a natural deterrent as moot. The idea of them using bright colours for attracting a mate is compromised by the fact that the bright colours are not typically in a position to make an effective display, and both males and females are equally likely to exhibit such colourations.
The next matter to consider is their social dynamic. At first glance the quantity of females exceeds that of males sufficiently to imply that they are a matriarchal society, reinforced by the presence of the Pegasus-unicorn hybrids that all the other defer to as I have seen no sign of any males in that category of pony-kind; furthermore the males seem to be on average slightly larger than the females, a dynamic perfectly normal amongst Earth's own mammals, and yet there seems to be an even sense of courtesy. The females and the males show equal respect to each other, a phenomenon that I don't ever recall seeing among any society or even any kind of mammalian species ever. Thinking on it I do believe I have heard tales of some Indian tribes in the New World who do have this kind of even-handed attitude towards the inherent genders of humanity, which while noble in spirit has until these past few days left me doubting how they can be fair in their treatment of the more delicate nature of women.
Another aspect of these ponies to puzzle over is their different races. These do not have foundations in their general build or hair growths like our native horses, but have blatant divisions in that there are relatively average ponies who have four legs and little else in the way of extremities, winged ponies that openly identify themselves by the demonym 'Pegasus' as though a famous figure determines one's own kind, but then men of my own generation have taken to speaking of ourselves as 'Victorian'. Then there's the ponies with horns emerging from their foreheads shaped like narwhal tusks that openly speak of themselves as 'unicorns', who it seems have a direct link into their brains through this protrusion in that they generate their own aurora with them that allows them to perform seemingly magical acts like moving things around without touching them; I can only figure that there is an intense psychic power that they can access. The fourth and rarest category is a Pegasus-unicorn hybrid race that appears to be so distinctive that they form a royal lineage amongst the ponies, almost like some lighter version of the caste system found in the Raj; I wonder as to why no males of the latter have arrived on Earth, seeing as there cannot be any way for them to propagate unless the children of unicorns and Pegasus ponies are these high-caste types. I seriously doubt this to be the case as they are deferred to so readily by the others and I have only seen a couple among all the others.
These days of fretting about discovery, knowing one cannot get out of this den for fear of being seized by a giant pony, are making me dreadfully weary come the evening. Being unable to access any lamplight, disregarding the threat of discovery, makes it very difficult to ruminate over these matters.
There was another dreadful bang last night, and I am now certain that this means another of the ponies' houses has arrived none too far from us. I found the curate staring out of the window with an expression like he had bore witness to a dreadful phantasm, though under the circumstances I suspect a great many sights out of the window would've caused anybody to turn pale. The periodic thuds and shakes of the gigantic ponies walking around has occurred so often in the past couple of days that I don't really think too much of them, except to maintain a vigilance against discovery and apprehension by these colossal beings. Hearing my approach made him start and turn with alarm, but he calmed down upon seeing me, though I'm none too sure how calm he is. In as quiet a whisper as I dared I asked him what was going on.
"The bright blue one." He answered in a whisper that seemed to project rather more than mine. "She's come back, and she... she..." I could see that whatever had happened had been difficult for him to process, so I was just about to escort him away from the window and see for myself with a great voice rolled over our hide-out. I had thought it was a young male at first, though there was a secondary aspect that didn't quite fit, but by the time I could actually look I was proven mistaken.
"So when that ship fired on Spitfire, I rushed in to show'em what-for, but she swung quickly enough and got'em firmly under her hooves. 'Cor, you wouldn't believe the noise these metal ships can make before they get sunk!" When I pulled up to the window as the curate slunk off to whimper in the cellar from the force and nonchalant tone of the pony's voice I could see that the view was almost completely blocked by a wall covered in sky-blue fuzz. I was certain this was the same blue Pegasus I saw from the train, but to find that it had taken up a position that blocked us off without meaning to drove home just how vulnerable we were.
"Rainbow," This voice was familiar enough from the day before, "It's all very well moving to defend some-pony else but do you really have to recount such an attack with that much enthusiasm?"
"Oh, come on! If I had to fly all the way over the ocean like that, I might've made another sonic rain-boom, Twilight. These humans would surely find that awesome." I can now identify that the blue Pegasus is the 'Rainbow Dash' that was mentioned yesterday, though her vocal tone and mannerisms suggest that she is a dreadful tomboy. Some of the dialogue I have heard leaves me puzzled as it seems that they substitute fairly average 'personhood' terms with equine-esque elements, and there seems to be some strange aerobatic move available to the winged ponies that involve producing a distinctive sound.
"And if you saw a Pegasus the size of Canterlot Castle rushing towards you, would you consider it 'awesome'?" I couldn't fathom this sentiment coming from any of these ponies, especially one so proactive as Twilight has been. Come to think of it, how is it that they have given such a name to somewhere? It seems like a dreadful pun.
The rest of the morning's observations didn't amount to much, but there were some sounds being made suggesting that there was a picnic taking place, and I do not wish to speculate as to what kind of food they have. I did attempt multiple adjustments to my posture in the hope of looking past the blue wall Rainbow Dash made, but all I could see was that she'd taken up a position less like a horse or dog but more of a posture I last saw on a Boer on a hot summer's day in South Africa. This did allow me to determine that the wall I saw was her right hind leg, and I could see the mark on her hind flank with sufficient clarity; it was a white cumulus cloud with a lightning bolt emerging down her thigh that consisted of the three primary colours, highly reminiscent of her mane and tail.
In the afternoon, having left the window for a while to share out the day's rations, I returned to see that Rainbow Dash wasn't blocking the view any more. On the opposite side of the house from me I saw the orange pony and the bigger red pony wandering around in a methodical manner, though I couldn't discern any clear pattern and neither of them spoke of anything that could highlight their purpose. However their periodic exchanges alerted me to their identities: Apple Jack and Big McIntosh respectively. I could understand the former's name in part due to the presence of a depiction of three bright red apples on her flank, though I wonder about the use of the rather ordinary name 'Jack'; the latter is more of a mystery to me, for while he is certainly big the name 'McIntosh' for a giant pony is something of an enigma to me. I can safely say that the vocal tones and general dialogue among these giant ponies has confirmed that those with angular muzzles are the males while the ponies with more rounded muzzles are female.
There's not much more to say about the actions and conversations of these ponies at this particular time, so I would now wish to put down some speculations I shall make about them in the hopes that my reading them back after later observations will allow me to see their viability from a sensible perspective, but then maintaining sensibility under these circumstances is a struggle.
The first thing that I wish to contemplate is the myriad of bright colours their body coats come in. From what I had gathered from reading the works of Darwin there are only two purposes for a species to develop bright colours, attracting a mate or conveying a sense of danger to potential predators. I am quite certain that these ponies have no venom or poison in their bodies and, if there are any predators they have to worry about, they have gained access to means that render such a natural deterrent as moot. The idea of them using bright colours for attracting a mate is compromised by the fact that the bright colours are not typically in a position to make an effective display, and both males and females are equally likely to exhibit such colourations.
The next matter to consider is their social dynamic. At first glance the quantity of females exceeds that of males sufficiently to imply that they are a matriarchal society, reinforced by the presence of the Pegasus-unicorn hybrids that all the other defer to as I have seen no sign of any males in that category of pony-kind; furthermore the males seem to be on average slightly larger than the females, a dynamic perfectly normal amongst Earth's own mammals, and yet there seems to be an even sense of courtesy. The females and the males show equal respect to each other, a phenomenon that I don't ever recall seeing among any society or even any kind of mammalian species ever. Thinking on it I do believe I have heard tales of some Indian tribes in the New World who do have this kind of even-handed attitude towards the inherent genders of humanity, which while noble in spirit has until these past few days left me doubting how they can be fair in their treatment of the more delicate nature of women.
Another aspect of these ponies to puzzle over is their different races. These do not have foundations in their general build or hair growths like our native horses, but have blatant divisions in that there are relatively average ponies who have four legs and little else in the way of extremities, winged ponies that openly identify themselves by the demonym 'Pegasus' as though a famous figure determines one's own kind, but then men of my own generation have taken to speaking of ourselves as 'Victorian'. Then there's the ponies with horns emerging from their foreheads shaped like narwhal tusks that openly speak of themselves as 'unicorns', who it seems have a direct link into their brains through this protrusion in that they generate their own aurora with them that allows them to perform seemingly magical acts like moving things around without touching them; I can only figure that there is an intense psychic power that they can access. The fourth and rarest category is a Pegasus-unicorn hybrid race that appears to be so distinctive that they form a royal lineage amongst the ponies, almost like some lighter version of the caste system found in the Raj; I wonder as to why no males of the latter have arrived on Earth, seeing as there cannot be any way for them to propagate unless the children of unicorns and Pegasus ponies are these high-caste types. I seriously doubt this to be the case as they are deferred to so readily by the others and I have only seen a couple among all the others.
These days of fretting about discovery, knowing one cannot get out of this den for fear of being seized by a giant pony, are making me dreadfully weary come the evening. Being unable to access any lamplight, disregarding the threat of discovery, makes it very difficult to ruminate over these matters.
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April 19
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