For him, there were no better ways to spend his Saturday mornings. He was who he was; there was no use in going against the grain. Curious to a fault: That was his true nature. His overworked brain sadly had to pay the toll. Other 12-year-old ponies preferred playing outside, and while he didn’t dislike the idea, Sunstone found all the friendship he could possibly yearn for inside the pages of his many tomes. Besides, most ponies at his school were unicorns, and even though the divide between his classmates and himself wasn’t impossible to work with, he still didn’t relate to them all that much. Rocks: He wanted to carve them; they wanted to transmogrify them. Compatibility was a tough sell there. Ah well! Their loss!