Dec 2020

>lyra dips into the town's winter oat reserve
>she sneaks a little extra to share with her friends and detractors
>twilight and applejack get pissed about losses to the stockpile
>mayor mare refuses to launch an investigation
>some say the minty thief even has her on the roll


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Anonymous 12/10/20(Thu)08:51:17 No.36263677

>Your ears twist and turn as you step into the house, a hoof working its way into the scarf around your neck to loosen it.
>...
>It's oddly quiet.
>The unlit fireplace doesn't do much for the nerves either, making it hard to see.
>Lyra wouldn't just sit in the cold like this.
>Your eyes won't adjust to the dark for a good while, so you'll have to rely on other senses for clues.
>To the average villager, it wouldn't be so much of a big deal.
>It's a time to sit down, relax, and talk with a herd about your day in the comfort of their own home.
>To you, however, it's you at your most vulnerable.
>And something is wrong.
>Where's the wild sounds of trotting and tumbling, the boisterous laughter, the texture of stray oats trailing form the kitchen?
>Did she go out without saying anything?
>No, she's usually waiting here to nudge you back onto your hooves when you want to rest after making candy all day.
>Snout close to the floor, you begin to search for your mint green roommate.
>The matches in the living area are missing too.
>How many times do you have to tell her to put things back where she found them?
>Tentatively, you make your way to Lyra's room, a smell working it's way into your snout.
>It's Lyra's scent, and... a stallion?
>No, something different.
>Something foreign, though you think you have a good idea as to who's.

>Nuzzling your way through her door, which is thankfully lit on the other side, you see the two culprits on a seemingly too-small bed, curled up asleep partially under a thick blanket.
>Looks like all those tall tales mommas tell their foals about sleeping alone is true.
>A big predator really did snatch Lyra up because she slept alone without other ponies to take watch.
>Right, she mentioned he was hairless over most of his body too, and that without insulation he was the warmest "cuddly buddy."
>The human had both his fore-arms around her securely, one of his weird claws over her muzzle, a little tongue poking out here and there to lick the individual digits.
>Her ear flicks as Anon's breath tickles the back of it, making a motion to lightly swat him on his tiny foal-like snout.
>And next to them on the bedside table are the matches you’re looking for.
>Snorting you canter over to the bedside table, not making an effort to be quiet.
>Predators tend to sleep more soundly, and for many times longer than a pony.
>And Lyra is... Lyra.
>Not to snuff the hearth, but unicorns are unusually eccentric, especially those weirdos that never leave their mountains, and none more than Lyra.
>Even the way she sits and grazes is weird.
>As you get close, you find Lyra's muzzle has escaped from the hold, twisting around up to try and hit the human's face with a stray lick.
>Deftly, and still asleep, the human's chin tilts up, narrowly avoiding it.
>With a low grunt his claw grabs and rubs her muzzle once more, now you realize it's to stop the sleepy grooming.
>The human hums, pressing his face into her thick winter coat as he curls up around her, squeezing out a quiet whicker from Lyra.
>Just like that they’re still again.
>...They're both weirdos.
>Swishing your tail, you make your leave.
>Unlike the two of them, you’re freezing your girls off and have a fire to start.