It was 1978 in Porkestown, the sounds of the town blared deep into your skull, of partying teens, and drunken laughs....this town was not at ALL what you were used to at your old town...but, you had your own life, and a sense to visit your extended family. You had grown bored with their fancy talk and all that, so you went to the towns festival to see if it was any different...well besides the spiked apple cider, the ponies in this town kept talking in a thick accent that felt almost overwhelming to get used to in such little time when spring break was still alive.

You kept trotting down the food courts, the bars, the blaring music, until you stopped...your hooves no longer touched gravle, but dirt. You guessed that in your haze, you hadn't noticed you had left town, the soft but grass coated soil gently tickled the skin around your hooves. You turned to go back, but was stopped by an...oddly attractive stallion, his coat as white as a fresh patch of snow, and eyes shimmering like ruby's...but oddly enough, his flanks held no cutie mark...odd...very odd. But before your suspension continued to grow, the stallion cleared his throat, placing a hoof on his chest.

"Apologies if I had startled you dear, I just happened to notice you wander a bit too far from the city, and thought I'd stop you from entering the woods...Timberwolves, creatures that you might not believe to be true hide there...or something you do believe, could just be under the tip of your nose."

The stallion chuckled hoarsely, his voice still carrying that accent like all the other ponies, but his appearance alot different, like a sore hoof...his mane was sleek, and held back, while his eyes almost seemed to glow in the moonlight, his lips held a confident smirk as he spoke again.

"The names Voron, pleasure to meet you. What is your name dear?"