23rd August. Sheen
I can't understand why none of the ponies made a search and possible excavation around the area that would surely have uncovered the both of us after the exchange between the princess and Pinky yesterday. I am still reluctant, though, to return to the window just yet in case any of them start probing the area.
I had another vivid dream last night, and again the blue-furred pony princess appeared. This time I was walking down a corridor of what I can only call a grand palace when I came upon a large sparsely furnished chamber that was relatively gloomy compared to the corridor, and inside the blue princess was sitting at a towering desk reading a book; bizarrely enough, while the first dream I had of her exaggerated her gigantic stature, this time I can only compare her height as being no more than that of an elephant. Almost as soon as I began to realise that she was so much smaller than normal she turned to me and spoke to me, telling me to let go of my preconceived notions and that I should l improve my grammar. Whereupon she then levitated the book into my hands and I looked down to see profiles of various ponies who I had seen, including herself. I'm not too sure if there's any real meaning in this, but I can only conclude that identifying them accordingly would be helpful.
Twilight is Twilight Sparkle, Apple Jack is Applejack (as though she's a mechanism for pulling up apple trees?), Pinky is Pinkie Pie, the off-white unicorn is Rarity, the alabaster princess is Princess Celestia (extraordinary, like she's a manifestation of the cosmos), the princess who has looked directly at me both awake and in my dreams is Princess Luna (apt enough with regards to her flank mark), the big red stallion is Big Macintosh (but then why doesn't his flank show something to do with raincoats?) and Lyra is Lyra Heartstrings. Fluttershy and Rainbow Dash have names that match directly with my overhearing and conjecture, though, and the other pony names have drifted away from my mind for now; all things considered I might save space on these pages by continuing to identify those with two names by the first that crops up, although calling Big Macintosh 'Big' doesn't sound right and I may as well drop the titles of the princesses when referring to them by name in these pages.
Returning to the waking world, extensive rainfall outside seems to be keeping most of the ponies indoors, although I did see a few silhouettes in the distance and the mallet-on-rock sound has returned after all this time. I wonder if it means the ponies are erecting a new edifice or if they might be tunnelling through the literal bedrock of our nation.
The relative mundanity of this day gives me more time to ruminate about the way pony society operates. The first thing that puzzles me is that if these ponies are towering behemoths, does that mean that they're used to seeing all other animals as being little more than insects or are there various other gigantic creatures on their home world? Thinking back to what Professor Godfrey suggested on that fateful day, if these ponies really are from the planet Venus then I would figure that their size stems from the fact that the warmer, potentially tropical, conditions that world might enjoy could lead to much larger plants than here on Earth and this, in turn, leads to much larger animals. Considering some of the things that crawl around in our own tropical jungles, I pray that a horrific exaggeration does not dwell alongside these ponies.
My head hurts. I can only conclude that making these conjectures right now is straining my brain, so I shall have to cut this entry short and maybe find out more about pony society through my covert observations at the risk of being killed beneath a giant hoof.
24th August. Sheen
This morning the curate seemed to recover a little as I found him looking out the window, whereby I concluded he was getting to grips with the presence of our uninvited neighbours. (I find it curious, now, that the word 'neigh' occurs in this term.) My thoughts on this were shut down when, just after I had my rations, he let out a blood-curdling cry that made me panic that we had been found, or failing that his outcry could draw in a curious pony. Hurrying into the parlour I found him huddled in his 'Cloister', as I had mentally named the spot he'd scrawl out bible verses, his eyes bugging out at me in horror as he slowly gestured to the window. Nervously I approached, hoping to avoid revealing too much of myself in case there was a pony staring right at our hide-out, and looked outside to see something that has shut down any sense that these ponies had any fair sentiment towards us. Even now I struggle to keep my daily rations down at the thought.
Outside I saw Applejack, Twilight, Pinkie, Fluttershy and the princesses sitting around as though they'd made a campfire. What they were doing, though, was a dreadful experience to be a witness to. Each and every one of them, even the demure Fluttershy, was taking living people up with any means available and dropping them straight down their throats! I could understand the curate's reaction of abject horror, but at the time I found myself transfixed by the act. Each of them disposed of their captives differently. Pinkie would typically scoop up as many as she could in one hoof and tip them straight down like a child with a bag of sherbet. Twilight had a tendency to levitate several people at once while holding each one up to her eye for a moment, giving them a smile that could be called cheeky under any other circumstances, before then popping them in her mouth and made like she was sucking on a humbug for a few seconds before swallowing. Applejack took a rather nonchalant attitude to the act of predating on humanity, in this she would scoop up a hoof-full like Pinkie and toss them into her mouth; I daren't say what happened next as it looked like she was chewing but there was something off about this that didn't correlate with the fate of those poor souls. Interestingly Fluttershy seemed to snatch up people one at a time with the tip of one of her feathers and exhibited a strange sympathy before consuming them in a manner that sat somewhere between Twilight's approach and Pinkie's approach.
The pony princesses seemed to actually be applying condiments of some sort to the people they selected. It was both horrifying and astonishing to see my fellow man being treated like appetisers in a session of afternoon tea. I couldn't quite make out exactly how the princesses would actually approach the actual ingestion process, and I can only conclude that it's a mercy. Bizarrely enough I thought the ponies were actually attempting to converse not only with each other, but even with their captives as they snatched them up. At one point I thought I heard Fluttershy apologising to hers with a provision that what she was doing was going to be beneficial for her prey. This has to be nonsense! I cannot see any reason why they would offer such sentiments to anyone who has already been captured; in pursuit of their prey I could perhaps understand a desire to get us to let out guards down, but when the situation is inevitably fatal it seems so utterly pointless. One of the things I heard them saying to the people they were eating was "It's just like your very own personal spa treatment."!
I write this as far out of the line of the window as I possibly can. I'm deeply concerned about my mental state as, before today, I was wondering if staying hidden was such a good idea. Again I worry about how the curate's coping as he'd been going on about the devil's influence after crawling out of the parlour, but at least he seems to have quietened down for now...
That imbecile! I caught him scarfing down a whole loaf of bread and drinking burgundy straight from the bottle. We're both in a rough state, especially when I had to essentially wrestle with him to ensure he didn't use up any more of our rations. I did all I could to properly evaluate, amend and then secure our available food and drink. He's been sulking in the cellar for now while I've had to bring my diary up to the kitchen, as I daren't leave my self-imposed post. I would've thought that what we'd seen happen would've made him seek to keep himself trim and, for want of a better term, unappetising in appearance. Frankly I would've found this whole situation to be more believable if the invaders were cows, because at least then there'd be some perverted sense of justice in their treatment of humanity.
I can't understand why none of the ponies made a search and possible excavation around the area that would surely have uncovered the both of us after the exchange between the princess and Pinky yesterday. I am still reluctant, though, to return to the window just yet in case any of them start probing the area.
I had another vivid dream last night, and again the blue-furred pony princess appeared. This time I was walking down a corridor of what I can only call a grand palace when I came upon a large sparsely furnished chamber that was relatively gloomy compared to the corridor, and inside the blue princess was sitting at a towering desk reading a book; bizarrely enough, while the first dream I had of her exaggerated her gigantic stature, this time I can only compare her height as being no more than that of an elephant. Almost as soon as I began to realise that she was so much smaller than normal she turned to me and spoke to me, telling me to let go of my preconceived notions and that I should l improve my grammar. Whereupon she then levitated the book into my hands and I looked down to see profiles of various ponies who I had seen, including herself. I'm not too sure if there's any real meaning in this, but I can only conclude that identifying them accordingly would be helpful.
Twilight is Twilight Sparkle, Apple Jack is Applejack (as though she's a mechanism for pulling up apple trees?), Pinky is Pinkie Pie, the off-white unicorn is Rarity, the alabaster princess is Princess Celestia (extraordinary, like she's a manifestation of the cosmos), the princess who has looked directly at me both awake and in my dreams is Princess Luna (apt enough with regards to her flank mark), the big red stallion is Big Macintosh (but then why doesn't his flank show something to do with raincoats?) and Lyra is Lyra Heartstrings. Fluttershy and Rainbow Dash have names that match directly with my overhearing and conjecture, though, and the other pony names have drifted away from my mind for now; all things considered I might save space on these pages by continuing to identify those with two names by the first that crops up, although calling Big Macintosh 'Big' doesn't sound right and I may as well drop the titles of the princesses when referring to them by name in these pages.
Returning to the waking world, extensive rainfall outside seems to be keeping most of the ponies indoors, although I did see a few silhouettes in the distance and the mallet-on-rock sound has returned after all this time. I wonder if it means the ponies are erecting a new edifice or if they might be tunnelling through the literal bedrock of our nation.
The relative mundanity of this day gives me more time to ruminate about the way pony society operates. The first thing that puzzles me is that if these ponies are towering behemoths, does that mean that they're used to seeing all other animals as being little more than insects or are there various other gigantic creatures on their home world? Thinking back to what Professor Godfrey suggested on that fateful day, if these ponies really are from the planet Venus then I would figure that their size stems from the fact that the warmer, potentially tropical, conditions that world might enjoy could lead to much larger plants than here on Earth and this, in turn, leads to much larger animals. Considering some of the things that crawl around in our own tropical jungles, I pray that a horrific exaggeration does not dwell alongside these ponies.
My head hurts. I can only conclude that making these conjectures right now is straining my brain, so I shall have to cut this entry short and maybe find out more about pony society through my covert observations at the risk of being killed beneath a giant hoof.
24th August. Sheen
This morning the curate seemed to recover a little as I found him looking out the window, whereby I concluded he was getting to grips with the presence of our uninvited neighbours. (I find it curious, now, that the word 'neigh' occurs in this term.) My thoughts on this were shut down when, just after I had my rations, he let out a blood-curdling cry that made me panic that we had been found, or failing that his outcry could draw in a curious pony. Hurrying into the parlour I found him huddled in his 'Cloister', as I had mentally named the spot he'd scrawl out bible verses, his eyes bugging out at me in horror as he slowly gestured to the window. Nervously I approached, hoping to avoid revealing too much of myself in case there was a pony staring right at our hide-out, and looked outside to see something that has shut down any sense that these ponies had any fair sentiment towards us. Even now I struggle to keep my daily rations down at the thought.
Outside I saw Applejack, Twilight, Pinkie, Fluttershy and the princesses sitting around as though they'd made a campfire. What they were doing, though, was a dreadful experience to be a witness to. Each and every one of them, even the demure Fluttershy, was taking living people up with any means available and dropping them straight down their throats! I could understand the curate's reaction of abject horror, but at the time I found myself transfixed by the act. Each of them disposed of their captives differently. Pinkie would typically scoop up as many as she could in one hoof and tip them straight down like a child with a bag of sherbet. Twilight had a tendency to levitate several people at once while holding each one up to her eye for a moment, giving them a smile that could be called cheeky under any other circumstances, before then popping them in her mouth and made like she was sucking on a humbug for a few seconds before swallowing. Applejack took a rather nonchalant attitude to the act of predating on humanity, in this she would scoop up a hoof-full like Pinkie and toss them into her mouth; I daren't say what happened next as it looked like she was chewing but there was something off about this that didn't correlate with the fate of those poor souls. Interestingly Fluttershy seemed to snatch up people one at a time with the tip of one of her feathers and exhibited a strange sympathy before consuming them in a manner that sat somewhere between Twilight's approach and Pinkie's approach.
The pony princesses seemed to actually be applying condiments of some sort to the people they selected. It was both horrifying and astonishing to see my fellow man being treated like appetisers in a session of afternoon tea. I couldn't quite make out exactly how the princesses would actually approach the actual ingestion process, and I can only conclude that it's a mercy. Bizarrely enough I thought the ponies were actually attempting to converse not only with each other, but even with their captives as they snatched them up. At one point I thought I heard Fluttershy apologising to hers with a provision that what she was doing was going to be beneficial for her prey. This has to be nonsense! I cannot see any reason why they would offer such sentiments to anyone who has already been captured; in pursuit of their prey I could perhaps understand a desire to get us to let out guards down, but when the situation is inevitably fatal it seems so utterly pointless. One of the things I heard them saying to the people they were eating was "It's just like your very own personal spa treatment."!
I write this as far out of the line of the window as I possibly can. I'm deeply concerned about my mental state as, before today, I was wondering if staying hidden was such a good idea. Again I worry about how the curate's coping as he'd been going on about the devil's influence after crawling out of the parlour, but at least he seems to have quietened down for now...
That imbecile! I caught him scarfing down a whole loaf of bread and drinking burgundy straight from the bottle. We're both in a rough state, especially when I had to essentially wrestle with him to ensure he didn't use up any more of our rations. I did all I could to properly evaluate, amend and then secure our available food and drink. He's been sulking in the cellar for now while I've had to bring my diary up to the kitchen, as I daren't leave my self-imposed post. I would've thought that what we'd seen happen would've made him seek to keep himself trim and, for want of a better term, unappetising in appearance. Frankly I would've found this whole situation to be more believable if the invaders were cows, because at least then there'd be some perverted sense of justice in their treatment of humanity.
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April 19
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