Christmas thingy for @guywithamp
 
The pony stopped pulling the oars, wearing a strange expression, and waited patiently for the boat to stop on it’s own before hopping off. The desert night was cool, a cold the pony had grown used to on their trek.  
What was the pony looking for, on the desert? Was it the faraway city, or something in it? A lover, a precious instrument, a home or at least respite? Or was what they sought beyond even regal Canterlot?  
But there wasn’t anybody to talk to, so the pony said nothing, went back to the oars, and the answer remained a mistery for the sands.  
They kept drifting long after the pony was gone, careless of their ignorance.