Emerald is about to ask a question, but then his stomach gives a big rumble. The colt instead asks if they have any food for a living person here.
 
The two undead look at each other, and the lich says, “Hmm… Well the water should be fine here. We have grass, I guess. That’s about it.”
 
“You have that apple, sire.” Elegance points out.
 
“You mean the poison one?” Sepulcher says with a chuckle.
 
“Hmm, well, maybe there is something in the forest? I think the shamblers are made out of meat, aren’t they? Wait, ponies don’t eat meat…” The lady says to herself.
 
“How about that hobby farm Gregarious has?” The lich comments.
 
“You mean with all those shriveled black vegetables? I guess it’s better than nothing…” The lady says, wandering out the door and towards what Emerald assumes is the farm in the village.
 
Emerald asks if they would have turned him into an Undead.
 
“Well, yes and no. I don’t make any more thralls like I have in the village. You would have become one of my emergency weapons. Essentially a body connected to a defense system for use against enemies of my village.” Sepulcher says, scratching his mask’s chin.
 
Emerald gulps involuntarily, and then apologizes for knocking over the guy in the bell tower and stealing their book. He really didn’t mean any harm.
 
“It’s fine, child. We have it back, no lasting harm done.”
 
Emerald asks if he has many students, and if maybe he could teach him some magic while he waits for Joyride.
 
“I no longer have students, no. They left me long ago, and I have made no effort to get any more. As for magic…” Sepulcher says, looking Emerald in the eye, “I must admit to being a little apprehensive about teaching a child the dark art of necromancy.”
 
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