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Description
“This is as far as I go, Ms. Telltale.” The coachpony says, coming to a stop.
“Huh? Now? We can’t be at Mournthread yet. And please, call me Mulberry.” A heather furred mare with black hair says, poking her head out the window of the coach. She looks towards her destination to see a giant, swirling, dome-like cloud of fog.
“So the rumors are true…” She says as she steps out of the wagon, making sure to pull her traveling dress up slightly, “Are you sure you will go no further? I did pay you triple the normal fare.”
“Aye, quite sure. People that go in, don’t come out.” The wagon driver says, lighting a cigarette, “I will take you back for free if you’d like. It’d be a shame to see a pretty little thing like you disappear.”
“I have my reasons for going in, good sir.” She says, frowning and turning her violet eyes back towards the fog.
She thinks sadly of her fiance. A bright, clever unicorn by the name of Antione Clovenheimer. She has known him since she was little, and as they grew in age, they also grew madly in love with each other. She felt a pang of sadness when he came to Mournthread to do research on his master thesis. He was always a history buff, and apparently this town had some sort of sordid history.
“My love, do not worry.” He had said before he had climbed into that carriage months ago breaking away from their hug with tears in his eyes, “It is only a six hour carriage ride away, and I will write you as much as possible.”
And so he had. At first the letters were pleasant, and she pined away, waiting for each one. He had talked about the town, how the small fishing village on the coast was nice, and that she should come visit. How the smell and sound of the sea in the morning was refreshing, and how the fishery’s smokehouse made his mouth water every time he walked by despite what was being made inside. He spoke of the farm on the east side that produced flavorful beets, kale, spinach and asparagus.
(Continued next post)
“Huh? Now? We can’t be at Mournthread yet. And please, call me Mulberry.” A heather furred mare with black hair says, poking her head out the window of the coach. She looks towards her destination to see a giant, swirling, dome-like cloud of fog.
“So the rumors are true…” She says as she steps out of the wagon, making sure to pull her traveling dress up slightly, “Are you sure you will go no further? I did pay you triple the normal fare.”
“Aye, quite sure. People that go in, don’t come out.” The wagon driver says, lighting a cigarette, “I will take you back for free if you’d like. It’d be a shame to see a pretty little thing like you disappear.”
“I have my reasons for going in, good sir.” She says, frowning and turning her violet eyes back towards the fog.
She thinks sadly of her fiance. A bright, clever unicorn by the name of Antione Clovenheimer. She has known him since she was little, and as they grew in age, they also grew madly in love with each other. She felt a pang of sadness when he came to Mournthread to do research on his master thesis. He was always a history buff, and apparently this town had some sort of sordid history.
“My love, do not worry.” He had said before he had climbed into that carriage months ago breaking away from their hug with tears in his eyes, “It is only a six hour carriage ride away, and I will write you as much as possible.”
And so he had. At first the letters were pleasant, and she pined away, waiting for each one. He had talked about the town, how the small fishing village on the coast was nice, and that she should come visit. How the smell and sound of the sea in the morning was refreshing, and how the fishery’s smokehouse made his mouth water every time he walked by despite what was being made inside. He spoke of the farm on the east side that produced flavorful beets, kale, spinach and asparagus.
(Continued next post)
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