Around them now were wide swathes of grassy fields and hills as far the eye could see, all washed in a warm midday sun. What must be thousands of dandelions sway with the grass, as a gentle breeze tickles over the top, rustling it ever so slightly and creating the faintest illusion that this could very well be an ocean formed of green and yellow. The sky is beautiful, speckled with soft clouds that lazily drift through the endless blue expanse above them. Far, far in the distance, one can see the hint of Canterlot over the hills. They must be even further than Ponyville is, judging by how tiny it looks from here.