“I’m telling you.. The cupcakes there are delicious.” “I heard new jobs were opening up there, they sure are expanding.” He wanted to nod off, drift into a quick slumber before he arrived at his destination. His viewing perception was glued to the view of his right; trees, lakes, small houses. All of them passed by in such a blur. It was hypnotizing. It commanded his eyes to feel heavy. It ordered his breath to slow down. His neck lowered, his forehead leaned against the side window. Eyes closed, he thought he would be able to sleep. But every time, the train cart would bounce in a sudden vibration that would knock his head back to a natural position. “I wonder how’s the education there?” “Not bad from what I heard.” “Sweet Sunrise, I wish they would stop talking. It’s not helping me at all..” under his breath, he made sure no one on the cart heard him. The tension of frustration was crammed tight in that simple sentence. His violet eyes drifted from the wooden floor board, to the crimson leather seats, to the view he was previously seeing; now just a field of apple trees. “Oh look! Sweet Apple Acres!” “We must be close.” He felt it in his chest, it was time to be ready to depart from the train. But he didn’t want to get up, he didn’t want to move. He wasn’t afraid, he’s sure it isn’t regret. Well, maybe regret. But what’s to regret about? He knows he would have to.. It’s just... Soon the train slows down. You could hear the loud screech from the iron wheels. It’s just that.. The train comes to halt, all the other ponies prepared themselves to depart. His tired, and.. The ponies on the cart picked their luggage and slowly stepped out of the cart. It’s been a harsh week, and.. The cart is empty. Tres is the only one on the passenger’s cart. His eyes locked on the red crimson seat in front of him. It was like the hypnotize trick the scenery gave him. Only this time, it willed Tres to crawl inside his mind. Alone with his thoughts. “Maybe.. I made a mistake..” “Sir.” “Maybe I shouldn’t be here..” “Sir?” “I heard Manehattan is nice.. No, I know people there.” “ ... “ “Do I really have to go?” “Hey buddy!” Metaphorically speaking, someone took a hoof and smacked Tres on the back of his head. His eyes burst open in surprise, and his face instinctively turn to where the voice originated. It was someone who worked on the train, a brown pony wearing formal attire. Tres would have something to say, but the words didn’t wanted come out. They just sit on top of his tongue as his lips were unsealed. “This is your stop, isn’t it?” Tres nodded. “Well, let’s go. You can’t sit here.” He couldn’t argue. Tres could only afford one ticket. This is his last stop for now. He moved himself out of the seat, the formal pony grabbed his brown bag with the strap and place it on Tres as his stood in middle of the cart hall. “Let me escort you out, sir.” “Thanks,” he showed gratitude. Though he felt like an idiot that this happen. He was kind of embarrassed. “Well,” the formal pony opened the door that lead to the train station, “Welcome to Ponyville, sir.” “T-Thanks.” “Don’t mention it.” Tres descended down, taking three steps off the stairs and on to the floor. This is it. Point of no return, but he thinks he passed the point of return a long time ago. Now it was time to start over. That’s why he is here. He wanted to escape, he didn’t want to be locked in a fate someone else determined for him. Here; he now controls his own fate. “Now, what next..?” Tres asked himself. “Someone.. I’m suppose to meet.. Jhera? I think that’s his name.” Tres would need a place to stay, the only pony that could do that was a florist pony named Jhera. It sounded a good idea, perhaps this other pony could help Tres find a job. A new trade sounded nice. Taking care of flowers sounded nice. The thought of something so tranquil, the work of a pacifist. He smirked, like he heard a funny joke. “Yeah,” the feeling of peace rushed in his chest. “I could live like that,” his hooves took him to where the crowd of ponies grew thinker. Now he need to find Jhera, but he's only going on a simple description.