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Original Description:
 
Just north of the Pie family’s rock farm, a hefty wooden troika was parked haphazardly under a large tree between the Rocky Road Inn and a small row of convenience shops. A bulky stallion with a brownish-grey coat and puffy maroon hair stomped up to it, then took a deep breath and removed the luggage from his back. Shoofly Pie hefted his suitcase into the troika, mumbling absentmindedly to himself. The visit to his brother certainly could’ve gone better. He hadn’t exactly expected a welcome party, but he’d at least hoped Igneous would be civil. He’d been looking forward to seeing his nieces– Pinkamena especially– and giving them the gifts he’d bought them on his last trip. Unfortunately, his brother, ever a stallion of grudges and spite, had kicked him out before he’d even set foot in the Pie family home.  
“Get out of my farm, stay away from my family, and never go near my daughter again.”  
The last part of that demand was what infuriated Shoofly the most. He hadn’t even gotten a chance to see Mena before he’d been shooed away like a rabid raccoon. She must’ve said something to him, the stallion thought as he turned to walk towards the inn. Бог knows she thinks I hung the moon. And to him, there’s nothing worse than the thought of her ending up like me.  
He raised a hoof to swing open the inn’s more discreet side door, then paused when he heard a small noise behind him. He turned around just in time to see a pink blur dash behind the troika. Sighing, he called out, “Mena, I know it’s you. Come over ‘ere.”  
Pinkie Pie came out from her hiding spot. “Okay, I know what you’re gonna say,” she started, “b-but I just wanted to spend some more time with you since you had to leave so soon, and I promise I was gonna write to mom and dad and tell them where I was, and-and maybe send them postcards and souvenirs, and-”  
Shoofly raised a hoof to silence the filly. “крошечный як, what’re you talking about?”  
Pinkie cocked her head to the side a bit, as if she’d assumed that Shoofly already knew what she was going to say. “I was gonna hide in the troika and go with you and Wander and Bard to wherever you’re going.”  
Shoofly put a hoof to his forehead. “We’ve talked about this. It’s not safe for a foal to be runnin’ around with a buncha ramblers.”  
“I’m not a foal anymore!” Pinkie protested. “I’m almost fifteen!”  
“Still a foal in my eyes, you are, and in the eyes of the law. I’m not your legal guardian. We would both get in a lot of trouble if you came with us.”  
“You’re more of a guardian to me than my dad’s ever been,” Pinkie muttered bitterly. “He always wants me to work and follow rules and be a prefect little angel. I’m miserable at the farm, uncle Shoo!”  
“You have food, water, a place to sleep, money to spend- you don’t always have those things when you’re on the road.”  
“But that’s what makes it exciting, isn’t it? You never know what’s coming next! You can do whatever you want! I never get to do what I want around here. I love my family, and I love the farm, but… there’s nothing for me there. I wanna be like you, uncle Shoo. I want to be free.”  
Shoofly was silent for a minute. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he remembered something his mother had said when they’d moved to the city, leaving his brother behind. “There’s just no reasoning with a teenager who’s made up their mind about something.” The stallion smiled faintly, then steeled himself and looked at Pinkie.  
“I’ll make you a deal, okay? You can come with us-”  
“Really?! Oh, thank you, uncle Shoo! Thank you so much, you won’t regret-”  
“But,” he interrupted.  
“…but?”  
“If at any point it gets too dangerous, or you get too homesick, or I think even for a second that you’d be better off here at the farm, I’m bringin’ you back. Deal?”  
The pink pony considered this for a moment, then grinned widely– almost devilishly.  
“Deal.”