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Rocky was - true to himself - being Rocky, which meant that the act of walking down the sidewalk was an entire production: he put himself in full swagger, practically sway-dancing with each step, belting out some show tune that had the words entirely wrong but surprisingly not off key. It was lunch time and he was hungry, which meant he was going to his favorite cafe that served large portions of just about any food he could think to ask for. Pink Lemonade was a doll and always seemed to suffer his antics, so that was good enough for it to be his favorite place.

It was a beautiful day, and there probably wasn't much that could stop the draft when he was on a roll.

His song came to an abrupt halt as the small filly tumbled in front of him, surprise in his silver eyes, one hoof held up in mid-step, which is where she came to a halt. He blinked once, about to say some apologetic thing, when he recognized her -- Out of Orbit!

"Well if it ain't the ballerina princess!" Rocky exclaimed with joy, immediately picking her up with his power. "Aw sugar, there's no reason to be upset! Fabulous hair like that is a burden to bear, and someone's gotta do it. I mean, look at me, I've got none! Maybe you could spare some for me if you get it cut?" He leaned in to smooch the tear on her cheek, promptly setting her on his back -- not about to let her be upset over a small tumble! Not when he could spoil her and show her how tough she really was!

It occurred to him that, despite the fact he was talking like the cowboy he'd portrayed, he didn't really look like his character. "It's uh -- it's your pal, Rocky Road," he added awkwardly, laughing at himself for being so...well. Himself. "I know losin' the beard and, y'know, all the get-up could be confusin'."

"No worries sweetheart," the draft chuckled, craning his neck around to look at her the best he could. "I'm happy t'see you all the same!" Rocky whuffled softly to punctuate his point, and then -- careful, for he now had precious cargo on his back -- continued on his path towards solving the problem of an empty stomach.

Lifting his head, he used his chin to point down the street as they rounded the corner, a small spark of light flitting from his horn to the shop and disappearing in a small shower of sparkles. "Lunch! Have you eaten yet, Princess? I'd be much obliged for your company, lunch would be on me. Even if you just want a milkshake or somethin', they're a good place to relax." And quite frankly, having seen the poor filly tangled in her own beautiful mane - and knowing what he did of her - it seemed like she could use a moment of peace, maybe a laugh or two.

The draft huffed, having absolutely none of that. "You would be payin' me back with your company, Princess," Rocky replied with a half laugh, shaking his head and trotting across the street. "That's worth more than any currency, 'kay? Don't let anyone tell you otherwise." He brightened at her question, however, his pace momentarily slowing as he tried to recall all the flavors he'd seen -- some of which he'd tried himself. "They can make almost anything you like! They have any seasonal fruits, 'n others like, chocolate, mint, hazelnut, coffee flavored, cookies-n-cream, candy cane..."

Apparently, the reminder of all the flavors was enough for him to pick up the slowed pace, closing the rest of the distance to the cafe with ears perked forward and opening the door with a flourish. "We're here!" he announced triumphantly, though if it was to Out of Orbit or as a warning to the staff was anyone's guess. He promptly picked a corner seat and used his gentle magic to move his precious cargo from back to booth, her bag with her. Once she was safely seated, he crossed his massive hooves over the table and leaned forward, like he was preparing to hear all sorts of gossip.

"So, what sounds good? And how've you been? Making friends, keepin' outta trouble?" He grinned at the last part, probably because it was a bit hypocritical coming from him.

His grin only got bigger. Lifting a hoof, he held it to the side as if he was equally as surprise as Out of Orbit. "You'd think! But these darlin's here, they know what's good and keep a stock. Pretty smart if you ask me, kind of a specialty thing but it means Phonies come jes for it."

But he saw her go from blooming to withdrawing, giving him a pang of alarm and a distant sort of sadness. He couldn't imagine why she was so cripplingly shy, if it was life or just the way she was made, but he hoped to bring her some happiness -- even if just in the form of a milkshake. "Good! I'm glad to hear it. Every time I have a blueberry muffin, I think 'bout you and always hope yer doin' well. So it's a treat t'be able to see you today." They'd had a brief meeting in a dark room, dressed as fantastical counterparts, but Rocky felt like he'd made a friend that night.

Or adopted her. He wasn't entirely sure.

"An' yer hair is getting so long! Have you thought about some fancy hair piece to keep it up? I know some Phonies, I could get you one if you fancied."

"You'll get there!" he nodded encouragingly, offering as dazzling of a smile as he could. "Takes time. Unless yer like me, forever stubby." Rocky shook his head to make his small ponytail bounce, chuckling under his breath.

It was about then that the waitress came, the draft enthusiastically ordering for the both of them (and letting Out of Orbit order anything else she might set her little heart on), and when the server left, he picked up without hesitation. "Naw, not a wig sweetheart, like a -- a clip! Somethin' filigree an' shiny." He tapped a large hoof to his chin thoughtfully. "Or maybe somethin' more elegant, like one of them drape-y pieces that makes you look like y'belong in a fantasy flick. With a big sapphire! Or..." Tilting his head to the side, he seemed to be considering the best option. "Mebbe mother-of-pearl? 'o an opal?" He shrugged. "Mebbe jus' a nice piece o' gold 'r silver."

Of course she'd have say in it, he was just trying to get her on the same page. Something she'd be more comfortable with, if possible.

Rocky tilted his head to the side. "Y' sure?" he asked gently, not going to press, but wanting her to know she could speak her mind. "S'all up to you, anywho. If you ever change yer mind, you let yer pal Rocky know, 'kay? I can turn up some nice topaz 'r some abalone shell..." Not pushing. Right.

"Bet there's some cute hair bands, too. Or a tiny hat, all jaunty off t'the side." As he spoke, he used his magic to fold the napkin near him into a small, crudely made sailor hat, putting it on his own head at an angle and modeling it with a mock-serious face. "Mm? Sailor Princess? May'aps a small crown?"