You will NEVER be a crafty, roguish pony, travelling with Trixie as her partner in flamboyance, stopping off at every town and village you happen across to dazzle and amaze the bewildered ponies who can only gape at the spectacles the pair of you perform. You’d act as her double, dancing garishly through the crowd to look for challengers to The Great and Powerful Trixie, or donning a shimmering, star speckled suit to bring her tale of the Ursa Major to life, stomping and roaring across the stage, the little foals in the audience terrified but still fascinated by the fantastic scene. Occasionally, one village might take offence, and you’d be run out of town with the locals at your hoofs, but when you’re together you just laugh it off and keep your heads high. After one particularly close call, you’d collapse together in the grass, chests heaving with laughter and exhaustion as you roll about and giggle at your mischief, until finally your continual swaying would throw you together, your hoofs interlocking and your muzzles bumping each other’s. “The great and powerful Trixie,” she would say, shyly, as she leans in towards you, “couldn’t have done it without you,” she’d whisper as you feel her lips against yours
and as you press yourselves together, you’d feel the tickling sensation of her enchanted rope, slowly spiralling around your feet. You’d look at her for a moment in confusion before noticing the cord encircling her too. She’d smile as the rope intertwined you both, and tell you how she never wants anything to tear you from her.