Chapter 3 - Finding That Pie

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Oh my goodness!

What the heck? My mind is racing.

There, staring right up at me, just smaller than a pillow, is a pink pony with blue eyes and a hot pink mane and tail. But its' mane's not messy and curly, it's straight. At first I'm scared, because of the fan fiction things, but then I realise she is just a little filly, so she's not insane.

I can't believe it, it's Pinkie Pie!

She stares up at me. I don't know what to do. After staring at her in shock for a while, I open my mouth. "Uh... Um... Hello," I say stupidly.

She looks at me, eyes on the brink of tears.

"Um... Hi, little filly," I say in an awkward tone. The filly studies me. "Um... where are you from?" I ask, half intrigued, half shocked.

"I... I..." Is what I can make out as she trails off. Can she even speak English?

She burst into tears, making me want to cry as well. "You don't know. Oh, please don't cry," I beg. I reach out and stroke her fur. It's smooth and short. After a while, she nuzzles my hand affectionately, tears still streaming out of her eyes, but calming down quite a bit.

A few more fat plops of rain land on my head, faster now, and now it is raining. The little filly shivers as the freezing water runs down her back. "Oh, you poor little thing," I coo, reaching out to pick her up. She rapidly flinches away, backing up and pressing herself against the concrete wall.

"It's okay," I attempt to assure her, lowering my hand down to the ground, palm up.

The pony doesn't move, still giving me a wary, wide eyed look.

I can't believe I'm going to do this, but I crouch down lower to the ground, slowly reaching my fingers out to pat her and earn her trust. Her eyes widen and just when I'm millimetres away, she nips my fingers and attempts to make a run for it. I cry out in pain, quickly retracting my now throbbing hand and gripping it with my other one to try and stop the feeling.

Sheesh, bipolar much?

The pink pony is terrified beyond belief. Can you blame her? She has no idea where she is, she has no idea who she is.

Her plan to run off is a big dud because all she does is crash loudly into some metal garbage cans. The loud noise frightens her and she whimpers loudly, diving back into the box. "Sh, sh," I shush, trying again to calm this filly down.

She still makes little whining noises, burying her head in her hooves as if wishing she were somewhere else.

I hold my hand out again, palm up, slowly and cautiously making my way to her.

She stretches out her neck and sniffs my hand a little bit, then looks up at me sadly with those adorable blue eyes. My heart melts. I reach my other hand out over her back and scoop her up, the way I used to pick cats up when I was little.

She's a bit heavy, but I don't mind. If Rainbow Dash or Fluttershy were the ones who appeared instead, I'm sure they'd be a lot lighter. I read on Wikipedia that pegasus ponies are a lot lighter than earth ponies or unicorns.

I lift up one side on my leather jacket and cradle her in there. I zip it up, but only a little bit, so she can still poke her head out to see her surroundings if she wanted to, but just enough to keep her out of sight.

She snuggles into my jacket as I walk out of the gloomy alleyway. It's pouring down, but the leather jacket protects the precious cargo inside. Can't say the same about myself, though. My hair is being attacked. It's soaking and being tousled a round by the strong wind.
I trot quickly back home.

Why did I think of wearing high heels?

It's very dark when I reach the front door, but I'm not afraid, because most sensible criminals wouldn't mug somebody in the rain.

Or would they?

No, no they wouldn't.

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