So far, not so different from home, Tom could see when he stepped out of the train station and laid foot on Canterlot's cobblestone path for the first time. Of course, that thought didn't keep him from almost tripped a step or two as he rose his head to took in the ornate rooftops of the country's capital, much like any other person stepping in from the outside.
The towering buildings all around him were all made from varying shades of the purest of marble marble, each one like a miniature castle that was shielded by weathered purple shingles and embroidered with shimmering gold. Even the air felt expensive as he took in a long, relishing breath; it felt filtered, sort of like how bottled water tasted. He took the next step, then kept on going, his head turning every which way as he took in the lore of one of the most expensive cities to ever exist on the planet, the one that he'd be one of the absolute rare few to call his home.
Looks like something out of a satire... Tom thought wistfully. Something that a poor artists would draw up to poke fun at the upper 1%: just ponies wearing waistcoats, top hats, dresses, and ridiculously pampered hairstyles, all pointing their noses at the sky as they droned on in jargon that he could vaguely tell was about some big business talk or popular socialite affairs. He was quick to feel out of place from all the noble men, having decided on a plaid shirt, black jeans, and a skipped shaving job to get ready for the day, and many of the ponies actually gave a double take as they noticed him sightsee their way, eyeing him like he was a dirty smudge on a marble countertop.
Then again, it was probably the size difference. Definitely, to be realistic.
Again, like something out of some ridiculous political cartoon, Tom only stood tall enough to stand at eye level with the citizens' waists, providing him with plenty of bare butts to drink in. Tons of them, and literally so, always quaking about as their owners weight sent faint tremors through the ground beneath their hoofsteps, some so welled that they could've plugged up a garage door. No matter where he was, Tom couldn't go ten feet without hearing some rampant chewing nearby, even if he wasn't walking near any of the overstuffed restaurants and cafes infesting the city, with ponies walking around carrying around enough food to serve an entire party a three course meal, eating with forks and napkins like they were at the dining table. They were all clean and well groomed, Tom was quite thankful form, but he found himself pulling his arms in along his sides as he walked between some of the fattest ponies he'd never imagined being as big as they were.
All around him, there wasn't a stomach that didn't reach the ground, hanging in front of its owner like overblown weather balloons that were all plush with fur and paunch, often looking like they were ready to pop with a red burn forming at the front as the pony stuffed him or herself to their absolute limit. Whether it was just a popular sense of fashion, or because there simply wasn't enough cloth in the world left over to completely cover them up, he couldn't tell, but there wasn't a single pony in sight who wore a pair of pants, with most of their semi or bare naked bodies drooping down far enough to effectively censor out their genitals, not that it made Tom's blush soften out any more.
He struggled to keep his mind focus over the heat burning in his mind, and tapped a mare on the shoulder. "Excuse me, miss?"
"Hm?" The mare glanced over, then scuttled around to face him, dragging her stomach around over the brick ground and leaning down enough to see him over its massive curve, smiling politely. "Yes, dear?"
He pulled a slip of paper from his pocket, handing it to her. "Would you happen to know which way I could find this address?"
She looked over the area written down, turned her eyes up in thought, then pointed down a nearby street. "Just go down that way, then turn right down the first block. You should easily see it from there!"
"Thank you!" He nodded back, hoisting his bags up again and navigating around the bulbous population towards his location, the spot that would represent the rest of his life.
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