21 August. Sheen
Seems I didn't have disturbances in my dreams last night, but it was the worst night yet in this hide-out. Almost as soon as we were huddling in the cellar to sleep, a dreadful bass rhythm rolled through with incidental shakes. I struggle to describe it in my weary state; if you could imagine a brass band performing without any kind of leadership you'll have some idea as to what it was like. I can only conclude that the ponies were engaged in some alien dancing event, which would account for the ground shaking. Truth be told, I might've managed to slip into the land of nod amidst this had the curate didn't keep leaping up, crying out like a man possessed every time there was a shift in the music or the way the ground would shake. Thankfully the whole thing died down, probably near midnight, and the more familiar vibrations of the giant ponies walking around took its place.
I'm sure I was late to rise because when I went to check the rations I found that the quantity was already set out, the curate having evidently taken his portion and left mine ready. I wondered whether letting him have first choice of watching the ponies would be a reasonable exchange for his effort, but it seems that he's not too concerned about what they're doing as he's taken to scrawling sermons and passages from the bible in the dirt.
The first thing I noticed when I looked outside was the unicorn I only know as Twilight sitting just off to the side of the opposite ridge from me. It was curious that she looked exactly how I felt this morning, which makes me wonder if she would have been happier if there wasn't some celebration among her kind going on last night. She's been blearily scratching away at one of the gigantic scrolls of parchment with another of those relatively ordinary-looking quill pens, and when I saw her levitate (I guess that's the best term I can figure) a railway engine up to her eye-line... it leaves me thinking that she was recording details of our mechanical constructs.
I don't know if it's because I've been so tired today, but I didn't sense the vibrations of another pony approaching until a pair of gigantic butter-yellow hooves came into view. Following the legs up I saw a pony (a mare) I don't ever recollect seeing before today; she was a Pegasus with a bright pink mane that seemed to be fairly well-groomed and her eyes were of a shade that I'm certain must be called turquoise. She was looking at Twilight with an expression of concern, a sentiment that was reinforced when she spoke; before I recall the conversation I must get this detail down as I'm certain my weary mind's been slipping into some unusual fancies, for her voice sounded like it was the softest I'd ever heard from these giants. I found myself beginning to shed tears as it made me reminisce about my home in Maybury Hill, my wife's embrace and all the comforts that go... I have to stop here before I wet these pages.
"Twilight? Are you okay? You look like you were up all night." I had to dry my eyes, so I didn't see what happened but when I looked back Twilight had put everything down and was now sitting up straight while replying.
"Oh, Hay Fluttershy." She answered, giving me the name of the new Pegasus. I am curious as to whether or not her family name is 'Hay' or 'Fluttershy'. "I'm all right. It's just Pinky kept us jigging for so long that I may as well have spent the whole night stargazing right through till dawn." Hay Fluttershy smiled at this and, once again, I felt my heart leap with a longing for my dear wife and a warm bed.
"Sorry I couldn't come." Hay answered. "I was still setting up the right habitat for our little guests at the first gateway." Twilight seemed to perk up slightly at this. I might've dozed off a little around this time as it sounded to me like she said.
"Oh. It'll be nice to show you some more little cooties." The next thing I remember after this was seeing these two ponies sitting with four more, including Apple Jack and Rainbow Dash and Pinky, the last pony was the off-white unicorn mare with the highly-coiffured mane. I don't know why but I couldn't quite listen in on what they were saying or doing, but it's probably just as well as I thought I could hear some panicked cries drifting over the ruins of the village.
I can't carry on with this for the rest of the day. I must try to catch up on my sleep.
22nd August. Sheen, under the pony house
It's been a whole week trapped under the rubble of what was once a perfectly ordinary town house. The curate and I have managed to sort an effective routine where the first one to wake would set out our rations for the day, then he'd go into a spot where he hoped not to see events outside while I would go to the window and watch the giant ponies going about their business. Usually the curate would eat first thing as a breakfast while I preferred to eat at luncheon time, giving me a break in my observing. If there's little going on outside I've taken it upon myself to start filling in my entry here as it's easier to see given the lack of lighting, especially since any meaningful light might draw in one of the giants to investigate. It's around sunset that we'll crawl down to the cellar to get some shut-eye; thankfully the storm nine days ago or so left enough water in the butts for us to drink reasonably as they sit in one corner of the cellar.
I would like to address an issue that had occurred yesterday. Now I've had a better night's sleep I've realised that I made a serious blunder in my reasoning; the butter-yellow Pegasus isn't named 'Hay Fluttershy', but Twilight was greeting her with a quick 'Hallo'. Sometimes I wish I wasn't so well-brought up as my writing's so close in I couldn't find a reasonable way to replace the use of 'Hay' with the outcry 'Hey'.
For the first time in a week I have seen something that makes me shiver. The first thing I saw looking outside was a developing garden on the opposite side of the crater (for want of a better term) that formed around the pony house; this might not seem particularly frightening but it looks like how a garden would appear outside of an average middle class home's window and this was clearly a mile away. Reading back on my earlier entries I can only conclude that this was what Apple Jack and Big McIntosh were doing with their bizarre walking pattern, setting the ground to sow their own seeds in our land! But then, I did hear the ponies occasionally saying they were intending to make our own horses gigantic, so it could be that they've found a way to enlarge our plant-life as well, but it seems rather a stretch that their abilities can reach that far.
The activities of the ponies this morning were relatively mediocre as I only saw a few of them thundering by with little to be made of any conversations they were having. I had thought they'd reverted to their own alien language but the murmurings that came through did not match the sequences of neighs and whinnies I had heard on the first two days. In the afternoon, though, an interesting event happened.
The blue princess was sitting between me and their new garden, again perusing a set of scrolls but this time Twilight was sitting off to her right making notes on some of the scrolls. I didn't quite get what they were discussing, though I heard some terms like 'petition' and 'supplies'. Just then a series of heavy rumbles resonated through the ground, making more plaster fall from the ceiling; there's only one thing I know of at this point that could cause it, and my fears were realised when I heard Pinky's voice almost roar across the land.
"Hey, Twilight! Oh, hi princess!" She seemed to pause between syllables to make another bouncing leap on all fours. "Anypony fancy a game of shades? Huh? Anyone?" At this time I believe she was actually talking about charades, but under the circumstances I couldn't think of anything other than the heavy hoof-steps slamming on and on next to our hide-out. I could see the pink fur on her fetlocks off to the side, and I knew it would take only a slight shift of her weight in the middle of a leap to bring her full weight down on top of us. Every time she jumped up I saw a great mass of debris that included bits of rubble from buildings and even the paving from our roads crumbling away from the underside.
I do not know why, but when I was faced with the prospect of being crushed under Pinky's house-sized hooves my reactions wasn't to scramble for the cellar and hope for the best, nor did I make a prayer. No, my eyes fixed squarely on the blue princess and I stretched my face as far as I could to amplify my expression of pleading; thinking on it I must've resembled a puppy looking for forgiveness. Something must've worked because her eyes glanced down and appeared to open in a look of subdued surprise and alarm as she then yelled out.
"PINKY, PLEASE DESIST THY PRONKING!" At this I saw something that makes absolutely no physical sense whatsoever. Pinky seemed to skid to a stop in the middle of a bounce in mid-air for a couple of seconds before sinking surprisingly gently onto the ground, the impact feeling more like a typical pony's hoof taking a step.
"S-Sorry, princess." Her voice now sounded like she was making a pouty face that mingled with an expression of shame. "I didn't know you weren't fond of shades." Her forehoof now dragged across the space in front of our hide-out, thankfully not building a wall of dirt in front of me but making a trench deep enough for our soldiers to use had they the opportunity. The princess seemed to change her tune sharply at this.
"It's not that, my dear subject. I... just wanted to remind you of how vulnerable humans are."
Seems I didn't have disturbances in my dreams last night, but it was the worst night yet in this hide-out. Almost as soon as we were huddling in the cellar to sleep, a dreadful bass rhythm rolled through with incidental shakes. I struggle to describe it in my weary state; if you could imagine a brass band performing without any kind of leadership you'll have some idea as to what it was like. I can only conclude that the ponies were engaged in some alien dancing event, which would account for the ground shaking. Truth be told, I might've managed to slip into the land of nod amidst this had the curate didn't keep leaping up, crying out like a man possessed every time there was a shift in the music or the way the ground would shake. Thankfully the whole thing died down, probably near midnight, and the more familiar vibrations of the giant ponies walking around took its place.
I'm sure I was late to rise because when I went to check the rations I found that the quantity was already set out, the curate having evidently taken his portion and left mine ready. I wondered whether letting him have first choice of watching the ponies would be a reasonable exchange for his effort, but it seems that he's not too concerned about what they're doing as he's taken to scrawling sermons and passages from the bible in the dirt.
The first thing I noticed when I looked outside was the unicorn I only know as Twilight sitting just off to the side of the opposite ridge from me. It was curious that she looked exactly how I felt this morning, which makes me wonder if she would have been happier if there wasn't some celebration among her kind going on last night. She's been blearily scratching away at one of the gigantic scrolls of parchment with another of those relatively ordinary-looking quill pens, and when I saw her levitate (I guess that's the best term I can figure) a railway engine up to her eye-line... it leaves me thinking that she was recording details of our mechanical constructs.
I don't know if it's because I've been so tired today, but I didn't sense the vibrations of another pony approaching until a pair of gigantic butter-yellow hooves came into view. Following the legs up I saw a pony (a mare) I don't ever recollect seeing before today; she was a Pegasus with a bright pink mane that seemed to be fairly well-groomed and her eyes were of a shade that I'm certain must be called turquoise. She was looking at Twilight with an expression of concern, a sentiment that was reinforced when she spoke; before I recall the conversation I must get this detail down as I'm certain my weary mind's been slipping into some unusual fancies, for her voice sounded like it was the softest I'd ever heard from these giants. I found myself beginning to shed tears as it made me reminisce about my home in Maybury Hill, my wife's embrace and all the comforts that go... I have to stop here before I wet these pages.
"Twilight? Are you okay? You look like you were up all night." I had to dry my eyes, so I didn't see what happened but when I looked back Twilight had put everything down and was now sitting up straight while replying.
"Oh, Hay Fluttershy." She answered, giving me the name of the new Pegasus. I am curious as to whether or not her family name is 'Hay' or 'Fluttershy'. "I'm all right. It's just Pinky kept us jigging for so long that I may as well have spent the whole night stargazing right through till dawn." Hay Fluttershy smiled at this and, once again, I felt my heart leap with a longing for my dear wife and a warm bed.
"Sorry I couldn't come." Hay answered. "I was still setting up the right habitat for our little guests at the first gateway." Twilight seemed to perk up slightly at this. I might've dozed off a little around this time as it sounded to me like she said.
"Oh. It'll be nice to show you some more little cooties." The next thing I remember after this was seeing these two ponies sitting with four more, including Apple Jack and Rainbow Dash and Pinky, the last pony was the off-white unicorn mare with the highly-coiffured mane. I don't know why but I couldn't quite listen in on what they were saying or doing, but it's probably just as well as I thought I could hear some panicked cries drifting over the ruins of the village.
I can't carry on with this for the rest of the day. I must try to catch up on my sleep.
22nd August. Sheen, under the pony house
It's been a whole week trapped under the rubble of what was once a perfectly ordinary town house. The curate and I have managed to sort an effective routine where the first one to wake would set out our rations for the day, then he'd go into a spot where he hoped not to see events outside while I would go to the window and watch the giant ponies going about their business. Usually the curate would eat first thing as a breakfast while I preferred to eat at luncheon time, giving me a break in my observing. If there's little going on outside I've taken it upon myself to start filling in my entry here as it's easier to see given the lack of lighting, especially since any meaningful light might draw in one of the giants to investigate. It's around sunset that we'll crawl down to the cellar to get some shut-eye; thankfully the storm nine days ago or so left enough water in the butts for us to drink reasonably as they sit in one corner of the cellar.
I would like to address an issue that had occurred yesterday. Now I've had a better night's sleep I've realised that I made a serious blunder in my reasoning; the butter-yellow Pegasus isn't named 'Hay Fluttershy', but Twilight was greeting her with a quick 'Hallo'. Sometimes I wish I wasn't so well-brought up as my writing's so close in I couldn't find a reasonable way to replace the use of 'Hay' with the outcry 'Hey'.
For the first time in a week I have seen something that makes me shiver. The first thing I saw looking outside was a developing garden on the opposite side of the crater (for want of a better term) that formed around the pony house; this might not seem particularly frightening but it looks like how a garden would appear outside of an average middle class home's window and this was clearly a mile away. Reading back on my earlier entries I can only conclude that this was what Apple Jack and Big McIntosh were doing with their bizarre walking pattern, setting the ground to sow their own seeds in our land! But then, I did hear the ponies occasionally saying they were intending to make our own horses gigantic, so it could be that they've found a way to enlarge our plant-life as well, but it seems rather a stretch that their abilities can reach that far.
The activities of the ponies this morning were relatively mediocre as I only saw a few of them thundering by with little to be made of any conversations they were having. I had thought they'd reverted to their own alien language but the murmurings that came through did not match the sequences of neighs and whinnies I had heard on the first two days. In the afternoon, though, an interesting event happened.
The blue princess was sitting between me and their new garden, again perusing a set of scrolls but this time Twilight was sitting off to her right making notes on some of the scrolls. I didn't quite get what they were discussing, though I heard some terms like 'petition' and 'supplies'. Just then a series of heavy rumbles resonated through the ground, making more plaster fall from the ceiling; there's only one thing I know of at this point that could cause it, and my fears were realised when I heard Pinky's voice almost roar across the land.
"Hey, Twilight! Oh, hi princess!" She seemed to pause between syllables to make another bouncing leap on all fours. "Anypony fancy a game of shades? Huh? Anyone?" At this time I believe she was actually talking about charades, but under the circumstances I couldn't think of anything other than the heavy hoof-steps slamming on and on next to our hide-out. I could see the pink fur on her fetlocks off to the side, and I knew it would take only a slight shift of her weight in the middle of a leap to bring her full weight down on top of us. Every time she jumped up I saw a great mass of debris that included bits of rubble from buildings and even the paving from our roads crumbling away from the underside.
I do not know why, but when I was faced with the prospect of being crushed under Pinky's house-sized hooves my reactions wasn't to scramble for the cellar and hope for the best, nor did I make a prayer. No, my eyes fixed squarely on the blue princess and I stretched my face as far as I could to amplify my expression of pleading; thinking on it I must've resembled a puppy looking for forgiveness. Something must've worked because her eyes glanced down and appeared to open in a look of subdued surprise and alarm as she then yelled out.
"PINKY, PLEASE DESIST THY PRONKING!" At this I saw something that makes absolutely no physical sense whatsoever. Pinky seemed to skid to a stop in the middle of a bounce in mid-air for a couple of seconds before sinking surprisingly gently onto the ground, the impact feeling more like a typical pony's hoof taking a step.
"S-Sorry, princess." Her voice now sounded like she was making a pouty face that mingled with an expression of shame. "I didn't know you weren't fond of shades." Her forehoof now dragged across the space in front of our hide-out, thankfully not building a wall of dirt in front of me but making a trench deep enough for our soldiers to use had they the opportunity. The princess seemed to change her tune sharply at this.
"It's not that, my dear subject. I... just wanted to remind you of how vulnerable humans are."
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April 19
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