“I believe it was that young, griffon fellow—the one who lives at Welcome Sight’s inn.” She grinned mischievously at her daughter. “He showed up at the door and handed the letter, stating it was for you. Why? Know him?” Peach’s face blushed furiously. She never got out much, always preferring her own company no matter how much her parents protested that she should go out and meet ponies. As a result, she had only a hooffull of friends. She had been practically dragged kicking and screaming to the party and, admittedly to her surprise, found she enjoyed herself.