Chapter 3
The instinct of self-preservation has begun to act, and I want to rush to run... But I can't move! Meanwhile, the sound of hooves becomes clearer and you could hear something going around the shelves and heading straight towards me, as luck would have it, it was already getting dark...
— Who is it..? I asked, startled.
— I have the same question – answered something suitable to me, in a pleasant female voice.
I saw, like, a pony that was white, with long black curly hair, with a mole on the right cheek, but red eyes, and the rest I didn't see ... Or not - a mole on the left cheek! okay, there was a young filly in front of me, with a slightly strange appearance, but still. Probably from some sect or just a thrill-seeker‽
— What are you staring at? she grinned.
— I'm not staring, I'm paralyzed
— Well, calm down, I won't touch you, I'm not in the mood – Neither either a strange stranger joked, or she said it seriously.
— What are you doing here? I asked the unfamiliar pony.
— Most likely, the same as you, – she answers, – I came for the sake of special old books, and such that you will not find in ordinary libraries, unlike this one.
— Yes, you're probably right... Who are you, I haven't seen you in Ponyville, although I know everyone there.
— Hmm, I don't even know if I should tell you, you'll spread rumors that some strange pony is walking around here, and I won't be able to come here in peace anymore... – Thinking out loud in a playful tone, a new acquaintance grinned: – Oh, come on, I'm kidding, – she giggled, – my name is Darkfog, then what about you?
— Blueberry Flitter, and in general, you can just Flitter – I replied, – we will be familiar
— We will – Said Darkfog, winking.
— What are you looking for?
— I told you that for old books that you won't find in a regular library – the curly pony replied.
— That is, not something specific? – I clarified.
– No, not for specific books.
— It's clear, I often come here in search of inspiration, in general, I'm writing a book
— Funny...
