A howling wind created an unusual chill in the April afternoon. A light gray pony scampered through the crowds of the town square, navigating his way to the next step of his routine: getting out of the cold and into the warmth of the extraordinarily decorated sugarcube corner, a place he commonly went to after a long day of work. The aroma of the pastries gripped his nostrils, practically lifting his body on its own towards the coming shop.