Sunstone scribbled a couple of notes. His penmanship was starting to look professional for his age. Early to get a cutie mark and early to be a model student. That which he did not understand, he would simply write down in a list and look up in the dictionary later, the one haphazardly thrown onto the mess that was his bedsheets. Ponies of his age would normally shout “moooom, what does X mean?” yet Sunstone preferred to crack the case himself. A trait that ran in the family, so claimed his dad. Besides, both of his folks were currently out of the house, doing shopping or something boring like that. He had no business twiddling his hooves, waiting impatiently to pester them, ha!