Ponies want to know. They try to leak some information, but I figure out their devious plan and trick them out of it. What you ask? My name. Ponies want to know my real name. I am referred to by C. I say my name is C. Its not.

I won't tell you my name. Or, not yet. I am an unusual pony. I have a candy addiction. I have a dark brown and black mane, and a light brown coat. My cutie mark is a peppermint.

Ponies think of me as a bear pony, because of my unusual colors. I don't have friends. Mostly, I hear ponies whispering things like, "Ooh, there goes the bear pony. Make sure she doesn't growl at you," Or, "be careful with your sweets, the bear pony might eat them" These conversations are idiotic.

Honestly, I don't think these things as offensive. I just think it like ponies don't want to be my friends. I am fine with that. If ponies don't need my friendship, I don't need theirs. I would be considered a lone wolf most of the time. Or, in my case, A lone bear.

Later on, I might say my name. But, stay tuned.
For I am C. And this is my story.