[Several months of exposure to the bizarre, and yet a pony as pink as his hoodie still can make him boggle. Perhaps because ponies do very well exist in his world... only... they aren't pink, nor do they speak in ways humans readily understand.]
Whoa... what the- -
[Slowing from his jog and wiping at his damp brow with the back of his hand, Mac peers curiously around the heap of stuff atop the wagon, trying to understand whether or not the store was relocating. Scratching at his head, he asks:]
no subject
Whoa... what the- -
[Slowing from his jog and wiping at his damp brow with the back of his hand, Mac peers curiously around the heap of stuff atop the wagon, trying to understand whether or not the store was relocating. Scratching at his head, he asks:]
What's goin' on?