Friendship Letters

The weather was tumultuous; no need to work in the freezing wind, pulling a trolley of rocks from the excavation site back to Canterlot. A contentful swoon, cemented in the sea of pillows and blanket fur pelts as the stallion began to write in its journal. Hunkered down in the back of his carriage, the fire pit crackling close by. "Never been a stallion to gamble. But you can say, the gods pulled in my favor. I was on vacation in Baltimare, no real reason behind it. After coming back from that ...