Bag slung over my shoulder, comfortable clothes on, both hands in in my jacket pockets, I'm trailing through Ponyville towards the Train Station. Quiet Saturday morning; Ponyville's a smaller, rural town, so Ponies were used to being up early. Weekends, though, most were sleeping in; mind the few that still worked early. There's a couple out and about, but most pay me little mind. Think they're getting used to me, seeing me interact with so many Ponies on the daily now, and not skulking around the woods and sticking to the edge of town.