“C’monnn, Hexy~”
 
“My name is Hexferry.”
 
“Hexybabes~”
 
“Hex – ferr – ee.”
 
“Hexycakes~”
 
“I’m going to close the door now.”
 
>Hexferry worked to make good on her word, placing a hoof to the wood of her front door and pushing it, expression fixed in deadpan hostility.
>Unfortunately, her mission was doomed, as a golden hoof had already taken up duty in preventing the door to be shut.
>The hoof’s colour was apt to the owner, Golden Corral, who spearheaded the unwelcome entourage of five; herself, Cejire, Peppermint, Caramel and Meisa.
>Hexferry sighed upon realising that she wasn’t going to shake the clingy mares so easily, opened the door fully and presented herself.
 
Hexferry: “Well, what do you guys want with me?”
 
Golden Corral: “Don’t you remember Hexy?”
 
Meisa: “Oh, don’t tell me she’s forgotten…”
 
Caramel: “I think she has…”
 
>More discontent mutterings from the group.
 
Hexferry: “What? What have I forgotten?”
 
Peppermint: “Heh… Heh… Even I remembered… Heh.”
 
Hexferry: “Remembered what!?”
 
Golden Corral: “You really have forgotten haven’t you?”
 
>Hexferry grimaced in annoyance, a tiny squeak leaving her as she puffed out her chest.
 
Hexferry: “WHAT HAVE I FORGOTTEN?!”
 
>The group flinched in unison.
>It was during this time that the dark moth pony in the house squinted at the others before her, non-verbally growling at each one.
>Needless to say, she never was one to be messed with; our dear Hexferry.
>Finally, the group leader spoke up once more.
Golden Corral: “Take it easy there, Hex. We just came to collect you to head out for the night. Pretty special night, too.
 
>The grumpy mare stole a glance at the sky, noting nothing of significance in the lunar cycle or with the stars.
Hexferry: “Doesn’t look so special to me…”
 
Cejire: “Didn’t you get the invitation? She said she sent one out to you.”
 
Hexferry: “She… Uhhh…”
 
>Hexferry looked visibly flustered all of a sudden, as thoughts of a colourful, hoof-drawn looking piece of paper that had found its way to her garbage, before being read, entered her mind.
>She might have given it a read, had the colours not been so garish and mismatched.
>It almost looked like it had been crafted by some poor, colour-blind soul.
>Nevertheless, Hexferry always felt sheepish when caught out.
>The rest of the moth ponies started to mutter again, exacerbating the mare’s embarrassment.
>After an awkward ten seconds, Corral decided it was time to spell it out.
>She, quite rightly, had been expecting Hexferry to ignore the invitation.
>A mischievous grin played upon her lips.
 
Golden Corral: “Little Sepia turned eighteen today, do you know what that meeeanss~?”
 
>Hexferry made a face.
 
Golden Corral: “What does it meeaaaan, Hexy~?”
 
Hexferry: “Get off my back. I know what it means.”
 
>Chuckles from the rest of the group found their way to the ears of the uncomfortable mare.
 
Hexferry: “It means she’s legal to drink alcohol, alright?”
 
>Further chuckling.
>Caramel fluttered her wings a little, hopping daintily closer to the mares at the door.
 
Caramel: “She’s also legal to…?”
 
>Caramel let her tone hang in the cool, evening air for a while, hoping for Hexferry to finish it.
>She didn’t.
>No matter; Caramel and Goldie were no strangers to messing with the antisocial moth pony’s disdain of sexual discussion.
 
Golden Corral: “Begins with an ‘F’, Hexy~”
 
Meisa: “Do you have to be so crude about it?”
 
Hexferry: “I’m with Meisa, can we just leave it?”
 
Golden Corral: “Fine, but let it be known that I’m going to be the one to set her up with a suitable male, alright?”
 
>She turned to address all of the others.
 
Golden Corral: “It’s high time that mare popped her cherry and I’d lose my wings before I let anypony else take the credit for it.”
 
>A long silence shrouded the group, until it was broken.
 
Peppermint: “Nopony else caaaares, Goldie. I just want to get messed up.”
 
>A group nod.
 
Golden Corral: “Oh… Well… Good… I guess.”
 
Peppermint: “She’s the last one of us to hit eighteen. Nopony else is gonna throw one like this again… In ever! Like, we gotta make this one good.”
 
Cejire: “And crazy!”
 
Caramel: “I’m in the mood to make tonight a night to /not/ remember~”
 
Meisa: “Even I have chosen to let my hair down, Hexferry.”
 
Golden Corral: “So, you coming? Sepia put on the invite to meet at her place for East Moon and we’re running a little late as it is.”
 
>Corral fixed Hexferry a stern look, knowing that “little Sepia” would find her feelings hurt so easily, should tonight not turn out well.
 
Hexferry: “Urgh. Fine.”
 
>With that, the mare stepped back into her house, took her key and joined the others, locking the door behind her.
>Excited chatter began to take over the group as they took the short walk to Sepia’s house, a few streets away.
>Talk of getting drunk, talk of dancing, talk of singing, talk of scouting for stallions; all of these composed the noise invading the silent roads of the town.
>Of course, Hexferry participated little in the benign conversation.
>Noting this, Cejire opted to try to include her as best she could.
 
Cejire: “Hey, Hex…”
 
Hexferry: “Hexferry.”
 
Cejire: “Sure… Is everything alright?”
 
Hexferry: “Peachy.”
 
Cejire: “Why aren’t you talking with everypony then?”
 
Hexferry: “Should I be talking?”
 
Cejire: “I’m pretty sure being sociable is important in, well, a social occasion.”
 
Hexferry: “You think?”
 
>It was time for a new track of conversation.
 
Cejire: “Perhaps you should just get drunker than all the others, help you get through this ever-so-tiresome outing, huh?”
 
Hexferry: “Might work. I’m only coming because Sepia’s a baby who’d cry a river if I didn’t.”
 
Cejire: “Don’t be so hard on her! She’s cute as a button.”
 
Hexferry: “I… I wouldn’t know. I don’t find mares cute.”
 
>The more colourful of the two gave a small chuckle.
 
Cejire: “Whatever you say…”
 
Hexferry: “What’s that supposed to mean?”
 
>The mare was a little too defensive and, even after the night’s first half-bottle of wine, Cejire picked up on it.
>Besides, there had always been talk about Hexferry’s ‘preferences’ when the mare in question had not been present.
 
Cejire: “A little touchy, hmmm~?”
 
>Small flicks of red crossed the bridge of the tall, guarded pony’s nose.
 
Hexferry: “N-no, shut up. How would /you/ know whether she’s cute, hm? I thought you liked rich stallions only.”
 
>The small jab was mostly ignored.
 
Cejire: “Of course, but I can tell if a mare is cute. That doesn’t make me… Y’know…”
 
Hexferry: “This night will be over before it starts, if you don’t quit it.”
 
Cejire: “Hush hush, I’m only teasing.”
 
>The group had separated into three pairs over the course of the walk, each talking about their own little thing.
>One of these pairs was Caramel and Meisa.
 
Caramel: “I honestly didn’t think I’d convince you to come out tonight, Mei-Mei.”
 
Meisa: “I’m not drunk enough for that nickname yet, darling. Hah, but I’m not above a night of debauchery.”
 
Caramel: “Oh, I know~”
 
Meisa: “Oh shush, Caramel.”
 
Caramel: “Please, we’ve known each other a long time. I think I can talk about stuff like that with you, by now.”
 
Meisa: “It’d be scandalous for any of the others to know… Certain… Things.”
 
Caramel: “That you’re a horndog?”
 
Meisa: “No other mare could get away with that without a serious telling off…”
 
Caramel: “But I’m a special mare, ain’t I?”
 
Meisa: “I’d happily say “special” when you employ such language as “ain’t””
 
Caramel: “/Aren’t/ I, Mei-Mei~?”
 
Meisa: “You’re never going to forget about that, are you?”
 
>Caramel did little to hide her amusement as well as her enjoyment in recalling a particular event.
 
Caramel: “Never~”
 
>Meisa lowered her head as she walked, allowing a few bangs of her silky, grey mane to fall over her eyes to exclude the world from her obvious blush.
>Golden Corral, who had acted very much as the ringleader for the night so far, was leading the party.
>With nobody to talk to, Peppermint, donning a suspicious smelling ‘cigarette’ hung from the side of her mouth, trotted alongside said ringleader.
 
Peppermint: “Heyyyy! Golderoonie!”
 
Golden Corral: “Uhhh… What?”
 
Peppermint: “Golden Delicious! Gold on the Ceiling!”
 
Golden Corral: “… I see.”
 
>Peppermint chortled, her already squinted eyes narrowing further.
 
Peppermint: “Want some?”
 
>Golden Corral gave the pungent thing a good scrutinising.
 
Golden Corral: “Isn’t it dangerous to do that and drink together?”
 
Peppermint: “Only if you’re soft.”
 
Golden Corral: “When have I been soft?”
 
 
Peppermint: “I don’t see a joint in your mouth right now~”
 
>She punctuated the jibe with a boop to the other mare’s nose.
>At this, Corral looked indignant.
 
Golden Corral: “Gimme that!”
 
>She swiped the herbal remedy clean from Peppermint’s mouth, jammed it between her lips and took a deep, long drag.
>In the quiet of the night, the subtle crackling of the burning concoction of plants is all the more audible.
>After taking a good lungful, the mare held it back with puffed cheeks despite such an act making no difference to the effect of the substance.
 
Peppermint: “Good?”
 
>The response was given in the form of a cough and the return of smoke.
 
Golden Corral: “Ach… Excellent…”
 
Peppermint: “Naturally!”
 
>The red mare laughed a little, partly at Goldie’s self-made persona being in jeopardy and partly a direct result of her intoxication.
>Sepia’s house arrived in view shortly afterwards; the dainty, if a little plain, cottage with the small, well-kept garden.
>The flowers in said garden were a little mismatched, being a result of colour coordination by a colour-blind mare.
>The gang sauntered through the gate, still chatting.
>As the appointed master of ceremony, it was Golden Corral who knocked on the door while the others waited patiently.
>They were all looking good, their individually tailored styles all emphasised in preparation for the night to come.
 
>Behind the door, clattering and banging could be heard, growing in volume as the clumsy mare found within made her way to the door.
>With a thud that sounded quite painful, the door was arrived at, the chinking of locks in wake.
>A cream mare, petite in stature and sporting the most adorable – and most dated – centre-parting threw the door open hastily.
>Upon seeing the turnout, Sepia dons the most infectiously giddy grin.
 
Sepia: “Hello everypony!”
 
>She hopped hoof to hoof in her excitement.
>The fast paced movement reminded the Golden mare of the pure sugar that was this adorable filly’s personality.
>A wash of maternal feelings crashed in her chest.
 
Golden Corral: “Hey hey, birthday girl!”
 
>Sepia beamed proudly.
 
Sepia: “It’s my birthday!”
 
Hexferry: “That’s a bit of an arbitrary statement, don’t you think?”
 
>Birthday girl looked past the golden mare, towards the tall, dark-furred one.
 
Sepia: “Huuhh?”
 
>Hexferry flinched at her unrefined hawk moth accent.
>It made her sad to be of the same genus.
>Then again, she could take pride in the fact that she had such common traits rightfully weeded out of her.
>Caramel interjected before the blunt mare said something that might hurt the sensitive little creature before her.
>She ensured that she would get to speak first by jamming a hoof into Hexferry’s mouth, much to her annoyance.
 
Caramel: “Hexferry is just keen to get past the talking and on to the partying, Sepia.”
 
Sepia: “Well come in! I have cakes and snacks and maybe…
 
>The little mare gave off a dirty chuckle, looking around as if to clarify a lack of witnesses.
 
Sepia: “… A little alcohol too~”
 
>She revelled in the ability to talk about such naughty things.
>Naughty by the perception of a mare so sheltered that, to her, “eating someone out” was a description of freeing a pony trapped within a pastry prison, that is.
 
Sepia: “Well, come oooonnn in!”
 
>The small one stepped aside, ushering the group in.
>As they filed past, they exchanged birthday greetings with the new adult.
 
Caramel: “Happy birthday, scamp.”
 
Meisa: “Happy birthday!”
 
>Cejire tussled her hair as she passed.
 
Cejire: “Tonight’s about you, don’t forget that.”
 
>Sepia responded with a prideful look.
 
Sepia: “I know!”
 
Peppermint: “Happy b-day! Welcome to the reaaal world.”
 
>Hexferry brought up the back of the group, dragging her heels with little enthusiasm.
>Sepia straightened herself up as she held the door, closing her eyes with the most angelic smile.
>She awaited the last birthday greeting from the mare who stood half again her height.
>That mare simply walked past, following the others into the lounge.
>This made the petite moth pony snort, scowling fiercely at the yellow mane on the back of Hexferry’s head.
 
Sepia: “A-/hem/.”
 
>The brown mare threw on her biggest, cheesiest grin in lieu of that indignant sneer before the bigger pony turned to her.
 
Hexferry: “What?”
 
Sepia: “Don’t’cha have something to saaaayyy?”
 
Hexferry: “Uh... There’s a password?”
 
Sepia: “No but…”
 
>The smile faltered on her lips as she scuffed the floor with her hoof sheepishly.
 
Hexferry: “But what?”
 
>Hexferry had always intimidated Sepia.
>And yet, her approval had always been subject to Sepia’s desire.
 
Sepia: “I-it’s nothing… Sorry.”
 
>Her grin left completely as she painted a picture of pure pitifulness, her inky eyes examining the carpet thread by thread as she shrank.
>Even Hexferry found it hard to ignore that.
 
Hexferry: “Ugh… Happy birthday or something…”