“Nice buddy, real nice,” Joachim whined as he pulled himself out of the bush, leaves and sticks complimenting the wild assortment of streamers, ripped banners, torn paper hearts, and ribbons that covered the griffon. He looked about, trying to judge the distance to the Shady Bough. He had yet to make any appreciable distance before he got tackled to the ground by another crazy mare, barely making it out from underneath them before another one nearly caught him. He had five of the ponies after him now. What in the hell did he even do? Why now? Was there just something about this holiday that sent ponies mad? A few stallions had accosted him, babbling something about ‘stealing their mares’ or something along those lines.