A Forgotten Tale [Private]

Coincidentally, a young mare happened to be standing next to him, seemingly both fixated on the falls and in her own mind at once. While she was only a couple years younger than him, she was obviously shorter than him; she was shorter than most mares, but again it was because she was not an adult yet. The mare's look was simple: her coat color was of fresh parchment, not covered by any clothes to speak of (something she still wasn't entirely used to). Her cutie mark was a white writing quill with black outlines. Her tail and mane were dark reddish-brown, with a blue stripe going through both. A simple, black ponytail holder held her mane back.

The mare's expression would either be considered stoic, or blank and empty; she usually wasn't one for facial expressions when she didn't feel it was necessary. Right now, socializing wasn't very close to the top of her to-do list, so she didn't bother to look as thoughtful or imaginative as she was actually being right now.

The mare moved closer to the railing to rest a foreleg on it, looking over the edge of the falls with an expression of apparent boredom and empty-mindedness, failing horribly to show the awe and slight dizziness she felt.

Fantasy was starting to shiver. In hindsight, she should've donned a rain poncho. She lifted her head from the bottom of the falls and looked around briefly for a place to get ponchos. However, the place was quite crowded so she had trouble seeing much of anything that wasn't the falls themselves. She knew now that she should've searched for a place to get ponchos, but... didn't want to anymore. She'd probably make a fool of herself if she tried, and undoubtedly failed, to find ponchos. It would probably be easy to find, but that wouldn't make a difference to her. While it'd be obvious enough for a foal, she'd miss it a dozen times while wandering cluelessly and probably earning many mocking laughs from ponies who bothered to pay attention to her. In short, she'd rather deal with the potential hypothermia.

During her brief scan, she did spot the tall, bright red unicorn... pony, staring wistfully (right word?) at the falls. Many things about this pony held her attention: the height, the neon red coat, the equally-bright and almost-but-not-quite mismatched mane and tail, the skin-exposing scars that exposed... skin as blue as the blue in his mane and tail (that was pretty cool), and the equally-blue tribal-looking tattoos on the pony's face.

Fantasy quickly took her eyes off the pony, though; she didn't want to be rude, so she returned to minding her own business... and she remembered how bucking cold she was. She debated with herself if it'd be worth it to continue shivering at the railing to continue staring at the falls, or if she should leave until she'd warmed up again, possibly grab a snack. Were there cinnamon buns somewhere? Only one way to find out.

Somewhat stiffly, Fantasy moved from the railing and started searching for a relatively uncrowded, but still good-quality, snack place, brushing up against other ponies repeatedly but not paying any mind to it; she was used to moving through crowded places, so she knew light collisions, bumps, and brushes were inevitable, and figured ponies knew the same and automatically knew it was not intentional.

Fantasy moved through the crowd quickly, scanning each building, shop, or whatever for anything relating to food. Preferably a snack place. Wasn't the healthiest idea, but she wasn't completely hungry; just snacky.

Though, it was getting harder and harder to move through the thick crowd, and she didn't want to keep bumping into ponies because she wasn't paying attention to them. She decided to wait a little while to continue searching for a snack place, and for now she'd just find a bench or something to sit on until some ponies had left the falls or gone back to their hotel rooms. Fortunately, while not easy, it wasn't difficult, either, to find an available spot on a bench.

Fantasy walked over to the bench, and sat. She waited.