By the entrance too one of the buildings, Lunar sat. It had been a relaxing day, at least compared to how they usually went in his travels. He had come a long way from the north, going across what was left of equestria, trying to survive. His travels had led him here now. He pulled out his flute, a relic to the nomad group he had been born into. He sometimes played it to pass time, it relaxed him and calmed his mind. Carefully, he lifted it up to his beak, and began to play an old song from his childhood, unaware of the others in the town.