User blog comment:Guildmaster Grovyle/JLE Role Play, Spring 2015/@comment-24422626-20150404061938

Gangleader: Agh..! Come on, bro! We were just messing—

* ''The punks' downed ringleader is silenced with a final kick to his side, and he collapses in a panting heap next to his fellow amateurs. Glaive shakes his head and returns to Shimmerspark, who has retained the courage to stay put, albeit a distance away and with eyes squeezed shut. At least the rain has slowed to a halt, Glaive thinks, as he dons his cloak again and helps the filly up with a fetlock.''*

Glaive: Sorry about that. You know those ponies?

Shimmerspark: Y-yeah, this is their territory... They've beat me up a couple times...

Glaive: ...Well, that won't happen again, okay?

Shimmerspark: I... Okay...

* ''As Glaive gingerly hoists the thin foal onto his back to let her rest, he thinks. There is, of course, the inner wonder of why his absentminded path had to take him into this Luna-forsaken area of the city. It has only been trouble. Glaive silently notes, though, that other than that small fragment of a thought, he hasn't been able to bring himself to leave the homeless and probably orphaned filly behind.''

* ''Huh. Did his father from all that time ago look something like this, perhaps..? That despicable stallion had taken the abandoned Glaive in for his own evil purposes. Bloodwing had been raised a blind servant of something he should have hated—and yet, that hopeless foal had lived when he should have died on a rainy Trotham street. Was that mercy, or just a twisted opportunity taken..?''

* ''Glaive doesn't know. He wills his hooves to walk.''*