Daisy and the Cutie Mark Crusader
Daisy sat in the very shop of her dreams, and yet sighed deeply.
Long, long ago, her fillyhood friend Lily had read a lot of Explorer Flora novels once, and she still had the toy version of the Golden Garden Spade and Plant Pot of Power somewhere in her attic. She’d said that the Amaponian Rainforest to the south would be her future home, and she’d have a sidekick timberwolf puppy called Chip.
Back then, her friend Roseluck had spent more and more hours with that weird colt “Doc”, if not actually making any backyard thingummyjigs with him – lack of technical skill – then at least sitting there nodding along with his cheery lectures. She’d said they were going to build a time machine, once they’d figured out how to read words longer than “mushroom”.
That had been when they were foals.
But Daisy had paid attention to the grown-ups around her, and had gotten her cutie mark while admiring a meadow of every colour, and had worked out – to much laughter and shoulder-nudging from her friends – that she was going to grow up and open a shop. Not even an explorer’s emporium or a techno trade centre. Just… a shop. With flowers.
To her bewilderment, irritation, and despair, her prediction had come true.
Ah, but it had actually excited her a long time ago, when she’d seen her first meadow. She’d heard the trumpeting of the blue Gentian, the ringing bells of the golden Daffodil, the drumbeats of the blood-red Poppy, and the heavenly choir of the bleached Buttercup. When she’d splashed through an unexpected swamp to reach the edge, green and fuzzy Mare’s-Tail waited patiently before her while the white and pure Water-Lily floating alongside had given beauty, even to something as dull and dirty as this marshy dump.
Granted all that, of course, what had she done? She’d immediately stopped and stared at the daisies. The smallest, dullest, most dopey-named little squiggles of green with fragile little white eyes attached.
Trust her to do that.
Trust her to get a cutie mark out of that.
Still, she’d been rather proud to get the first cutie mark in her class. Oh, how Lily and Roseluck had seethed when they’d seen it!
Yes, well, she thought bitterly. Joke’s on me now, isn’t it?
Today, years after the romance of the flowers had worn off, the other two were managing the marketplace stall instead. For all Daisy knew, they were probably getting a lot more customers than she was, though every business was going through a bit of a quiet patch at the moment.
Snow caked the window.
Good luck to them, she thought.
She preferred the shop. The stall had its charms – especially if she wanted to switch targets and flog a few useless pans that clogged up her kitchen – but the shop? Ah, the shop was hers. Her own place, which she’d bought herself using her own hard-earned money.
Literally her place, at that. Although the other two went home to sleep, she slept in a bedroom right over it.
It was a good life, being a florist.
Well, it wasn’t a bad one. She always had flowers for company, a meadow stacked up to the ceiling all around her.
Well OK, flowers lived too slowly for her to get too excited over them, but it wasn’t as if she wanted excitement.
Much.
Maybe a little more than usual.
And some actual customers would be nice. Today was really quiet.
Not that she regretted it. A sensible, thoughtful mare had to think sensibly about her future. Not everyone could be an explorer or an inventor. Not that she’d get the chance.
Or wanted one.
Maybe.
For a few hours, though, it would be interesting to know what it would be like to see through the eyes of another Daisy, a Daisy who'd chosen differently. Maybe in one of those parallel universes Roseluck kept going on about.
No point worrying about that. She’d never get the chance to find out.
Which was good… because, it, uh, kept her mind on sensible, grown-up things, on the really important business…
…in a shop with no customers.
Daisy groaned and slouched. It was going to be one of those days.
The bell tinkled.
At once, Daisy straightened up, put on her best customer service smile, turned to face the main entrance, and then felt her insides collapse a little. The first thing she’d noticed was that the newcomer was a foal. Foals were bad news in a florist’s. They had a tendency to touch, and never seemed to know the right names for things.
It was Apple Bloom. Unusually, she was alone. Muttering to herself as she walked up the central aisle and glanced at the petals on either side.
“Gotta get somethin’ good,” was what Daisy barely managed to hear. “Gotta get somethin’ really special.”
Daisy half-considered opening her mouth to greet her, but too many long hours had worn her mind down to a dull flat line. Instead, she simply watched Apple Bloom draw closer with dead interest.
Besides, normally Apple Bloom was with the rest of her Cutie Mark Crusader gang, or accompanied by either Applejack or Granny Smith. Daisy couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen the filly on her own like this.
Eventually, she relented. “How can I help you?”
“‘M fine, thanks. Jus’ lookin’.” Apple Bloom didn’t even make eye contact, but curled around the end of the row and began inspecting the next aisle along.
In her current mood, Daisy was starving for a few words. Part of her insisted she be polite and let the customer come to her, but the prospect of another few hours of silence quickly silenced that part.
“Special occasion, Miss Apple Bloom?” she said.
“No.” Now she was casting a critical eye over the pimpernels.
Daisy frowned. “Any particular colour scheme?” She noticed the filly focused longer on – and inspected more closely – the redder and pinker varieties.
“Not really, but thanks. These’ll do, though.” Her stubby forelimb reached up, then shot back. “OW!”
“That’s thistle. I did put up a label underneath saying, ‘Do not touch’, if you notice.”
Apple Bloom checked. Then she blushed. “Oh. Sorry. These’ll do, though.”
Primroses. Daisy winced as the filly dumped them and the coins onto the counter. Dutifully, she wrapped them and tied the bouquet with ribbon without once paying much attention to her limb movements, and then watched the filly scamper off before she, Daisy, started settling back to stare at the wall.
The bell tinkled. The door shut.
To her surprise, after a pause she heard the same tiny hoofsteps approaching.
Instantly, she straightened up. “Sorry, Miss Apple Bloom. Did I mess up your change?”
Apple Bloom placed the bouquet on the counter and reared up, front hooves nestled against the wood. “Nah, nothin’ like that. You feelin’ OK?”
“I’m fine,” said Daisy’s mouth on automatic.
“You don’t look fine. Got any cutie mark troubles?”
“It’s been a quiet day. Nothing to worry about.” Daisy’s brain caught up with her ears. “What do you mean, cutie mark troubles?”
Apple Bloom puffed herself up. “We Cutie Mark Crusaders always help ponies out if they’re havin’ trouble with their cutie marks! It’s kinda our thing now. Like… like someone ain’t figured out what their cutie mark means or if they can even get one or what they’re s’posed to do next with their special talents. Don’t matter what age, species, or nothin’. We give ’em a leg-up, sorta thing.”
“I see,” said Daisy, who was slower than usual and hadn’t really seen particularly far into the speech. “No, I’m fine, thank you for asking. Got a flower cutie mark, run a flower shop. Can’t say I’ve any problems there.”
Apple Bloom pouted. “Only you look kinda down. Just thought Ah’d ask.”
“Very kind of you.”
“Funny, really. Ah’ve seen you around lots of times, but never really asked.”
“There are lots of ponies in town, I expect. And of course you get to go out there… anywhere in Ponyville you want, or out of it… and do anything and everything that comes to you. You’re very lucky, Miss Apple Bloom.”
“Hey, thanks!”
Apple Bloom beamed. Daisy wanted to return it, but her facial muscles weren’t responding at all.
“Now that Ah’m thinkin’ about it,” said the filly, rubbing her chin, “Ah reckon these pink flower thingies ain’t quite enough on their own.”
“Primroses,” corrected Daisy.
“Yeah, maybe some of them might do it.”
Daisy rolled her eyes.
“Got any suggestions?” Apple Bloom rested her elbows on the counter, eyes wide with possibilities. It was a look Daisy had last seen in a mirror. About ten years ago, if she was any judge.
Yes, please, buy more and more. I could do with showing some kind of profit before the end of the day. Aloud, Daisy was ambushed by curiosity.
“Depends what they’re for?” she said, raising her eyebrow as though angling for a response.
For once, Apple Bloom looked lost. Her eyes – once wide with pleasing visions – were now merely wide as though hoping some sense would drift into them eventually. Her beaming smile drooped at the edges.
“Uh…” she said. “Jus’ a passin’ fancy.”
Oh dear, thought Daisy. One of those customers.
“Who’s it for?” she said, injecting some false cheer into her voice. “Perhaps I can tailor it to suit their tastes.”
Apple Bloom shrugged and looked down at the primroses. “Ah dunno yet. Applejack? Maybe Granny Smith? Or Ah could give it to Cheerilee?”
“What’s the occasion, then? Some flowers fit right in for, say, birthdays, and others are better for weddings or funerals or donations or so on.”
Another shrug.
Daisy frowned. “Did you have a theme in mind?”
“Theme?” Apple Bloom looked up, brow creased.
“You know: red-and-white, sunny, wintry, rounded, soft. That kind of overall pattern. Or maybe some flower symbolism? You had anything in mind?”
This shrug held for longer and was accompanied by a helpless headshake.
Daisy’s frown deepened so much her eyes narrowed. “Then what are you after?”
“Ah dunno. Ah jus’ passed by an’ saw all the diff’rent kinds of flowers an’ Ah thought Ah’d do somethin’ nice for somepony. Ah thought the full idea’d come to me if Ah gave it a go.”
“Huh,” said Daisy. This was a new one for her. Ponies went into the florist’s with a specific, tangible aim in mind, even if it was only as specific and tangible as “I want something to put in a vase and look pretty; my house needs a bit of colour.” But at least there was an actual point, sooner or later. Something to grab onto and mould.
“Well, you must have some idea,” she said. “I can’t read minds.”
Helplessly, Apple Bloom grimaced in indecisive pain. “Ah got lots of ideas. Ah jus’ don’t know which one to try. But if Ah don’t try, Ah’ll always wonder if Ah might have done somethin’ good that Ah’ll never get to do now.”
“Hardly,” murmured Daisy. “We’re open nearly every day of the week.” For the catchment, she thought bitterly. I won’t dare close this place when we could scrounge a few more bits out of it.
“’Tain’t like that,” said Apple Bloom.
“I’m sorry,” said Daisy, losing a chunk of patience, “but I can’t help you if I don’t know what you want.”
Apple Bloom’s ears drooped. Instead of speaking, she plucked the primroses off the counter and shuffled towards the door. Barely had the bell tinkled when she spun right around and hurried back to the counter to return them.
“Ah dunno,” she said. “Ah’m sorry Ah’m bein’ a pain in the neck, an’ all, but Ah jus’ got this feelin’ there’s somethin’ Ah oughtta do, an’ this ain’t it. You know that feelin’?”
Feeling guilty about her lapse in patience, Daisy added, more gently, “Look, you can’t go off half-baked and expect to get anything done. You need to follow an actual plan, not whatever random thought pops into your head.”
“Ah ain’t a baby, you know,” said Apple Bloom, bristling.
“What? No, of course not! I didn’t say you were.”
“Ah got plans. Like… Cheerilee says this cutie mark stuff we’re doin’ is kinda like counsellin’, and she says it might be worth lookin’ to study counsellin’ at some college when Ah’m old enough to try it.”
“See?” Daisy showed her an encouraging smile. “That sounds like a sensible plan right there.”
Apple Bloom’s hum did not inspire confidence. “Ah guess. Maybe.”
After a length pause, Daisy felt they shouldn’t be staring off into space together, and said, “So…?”
“What do you mean ‘so’?”
“Well, it’s a clear career path, you’ll end up with a well-paying job, it fits your special talent, and Cheerilee’s usually a good pony for advice.”
“Ah guess.”
“Only…”
“Hm?”
“You don’t seem… entirely gung-ho about it, shall we say?”
Apple Bloom hummed again, without confidence and definitely without enthusiasm. She started fiddling with the primrose flower heads.
“Ah ain’t ungrateful or nothin’,” she said.
As though noticing the filly for the first time, Daisy leaned away from the counter and glanced about with self-conscious jitteriness. It was hardly her place to pry, especially over a filly she barely knew.
“It’s OK; you don’t have to…” she began to say, uncertain how to finish.
Apple Bloom gasped so violently she struggled and almost popped. “It’s jus’ that Ah’m growin’ up, an’ Applejack says Ah ain’t a li’l girl, an’ Ah ain’t sayin’ otherwise, jus’ so’s we’re clear, an’ now Ah got my cutie mark an’ school’s gonna finish someday soon, an’ Big Mac an’ Granny Smith keep talkin’ about jobs an’ careers an’ stuff, an’ Ah’m lookin’, Ah really am, Ah’m takin’ this seriously, an’ Ah don’t wanna make it look like Ah don’t think Cheerilee’s right, Ah ain’t never gonna do that –”
“Er,” said Daisy, feebly waving a hoof with half a mind to calm her down and a much more emphatic half a mind to not shush someone else’s kid.
Apple Bloom sucked in another breath. “But… Ah dunno… Ah jus’… It’s good, but… Ah…”
She fell into an embarrassed silence, red in the face, though that might have been sheer breathlessness.
Daisy sighed. Never had she really thought about having foals of her own, and the experience wasn’t doing much to shake her convictions. Although she had an inkling of what this motormouth was getting at, somehow it seemed rude to try and put it into words for her.
Apple Bloom looked down helplessly. “Sorry. Ah’m sorry Ah’m bein’ a pain in the neck again. Ah’ll take the flowers and go.”
“No!” said Daisy quickly.
This earned her a sudden stare.
“No,” said Daisy less quickly, trying a weak smile. “Truth be told, I don’t mind at all. Er, if you wanna stay a while, that is. Obviously, I don’t want you to work yourself up, no way, no how. But a chat’s a chat, right?”
Shapes passed by the window, and she knew some poor pony was trying their luck under the snowflakes. For the moment, she wasn’t sure if she envied them the outdoors or pitied them their foolish lack of common sense.
“So,” she said, trying to sound young and chummy and not too old and wise. “Um…” she added, managing to sound neither.
Apple Bloom rubbed her eyes and pulled down until the lower eyelids snapped back. “You’re lucky, you know. Applejack told me once you an’ the other flower girls been the same since Day One. She said you got it all figured out early on.”
“Some things,” said Daisy. Her cheeks were tight with self-awareness, and probably blushing.
“You reckon Ah could get it all figured out too?”
“I don’t see why not.”
“Only Scootaloo says she’s goin’ to take up radical stunts an’ stuff, an’ Sweetie Belle says she’s thinkin’ about goin’ into music an’ singin’.”
“Uh huh.”
“They got it all figured out. Rarity says Sweetie Belle has her own path to walk, an’ Rainbow Dash says Scootaloo’s doin’ her own thing.”
“Right…?”
“Only…”
Daisy’s mind shifted sluggishly into another gear. Over the years, the Cutie Mark Crusaders had tried everything from skydiving off a balloon to scuba diving in Ponyville’s largest lake. Yet she definitely remembered having to dodge Scootaloo’s scooter at least once a week, often with loss of flowery life and several minutes picking up her latest delivery baskets again.
They’d tried everything. Yes, it was hard to feel good about that, namely whenever they’d left skid marks on the garden or fallen out of nowhere and nearly given Lily cardiac arrest, but get past those nuisances and it was kind of… sweet. In a way.
After all, the Flower Trio – her, Lily, and Roseluck – had tried things when they were little too. Not many, because with Daisy’s cutie mark leading the charge, there were only so many things they could do with flowers on their minds. But they’d explored Whitetail Woods and the fringes of the Everfree Forest and even, when Roseluck had dared her to do so, Ghastly Gorge, where she’d nearly been swallowed by a Quarray Eel.
Apple Bloom tugged at her own bow as one might twirl a strand of hair, not really looking at what her hooves were doing. Apparently, she was gloomily admiring the till.
“It’s jus’… sometimes, it feels like Ah ain’t got a thing. Not really. Ah never really knew what kind of thing to go for. Oh, Ah had lots of stuff Ah tried: martial arts, bakin’ cupcakes, loop-de-hoopin’, Twittermite pest controllin’.”
“What are Twitter–?”
“Nothin’ really stuck. Not like Sweetie Belle an’ music, Ah mean.” She grimaced and grinned at once; it was quite an act of contortionism. “What if counsellin’s jus’ another thing? Ah don’t wanna get stuck with it.”
“Oh.” Daisy patted her curls absent-mindedly. “I’m not sure. I never really thought about it, to be honest.”
But she was thinking now, her own brain having sniffed the air, and grabbed a few fragments of words to inspect, in case they turned out to be palatable. She even chewed slightly, as though hoping to squeeze some insight out of the inside of her fleshy cheek.
Apple Bloom thought she didn’t have a “thing”? Odd, but then Daisy could kind of see what she meant. After all, when she’d been that age, she’d been the bland, boring one. Lily had her strange obsessions with danger, Roseluck her somewhat overoptimistic belief in her own ability to learn science by hanging around it for long enough. Daisy?
A kid who’d decided early on to grow up and raise a shop was not a kid with much in the way of personality.
“Look,” she said, giving up, “I’m probably not the best pony to ask about this kind of stuff.”
Apple Bloom folded her forelimbs as though settling in at the bar of a tavern. “It’s OK.”
“Well, where are your friends right now?” Daisy peered at the windows, but snow stubbornly clogged them up.
“Doin’ stuff,” mumbled Apple Bloom.
“Oh?”
“Yeah, Scootaloo reckons she can push herself an’ scoot on the streets.”
“In this snow? Is she nuts?”
“That’s what Ah said, but she said, ‘That’s what makes it so cool. If Ah pull that off, ain’t no one gonna forget it.’”
“Isn’t someone keeping an eye on her? That sounds dangerous to me. She could hit a snowdrift and break a leg.”
“Rainbow’s watching her.”
Tact fought against honesty for a few seconds before Daisy said, “That’s a good thing?”
“Nope, but no one else wants to come out. An’ Sweetie Belle’s havin’ a day in with her family.”
“Oh.” Daisy coughed. “And… you?”
Apple Bloom shrugged, and the gesture was just the sort of half-hearted semi-slouch that a true not-quite-foal-but-not-yet-mare would throw out. She might not technically be teenaged yet, but her mind was clearly getting a head-start and holding the back door open for the rest of her.
“There’s nothing wrong with –” Daisy almost bit her tongue. “I mean, if you want my advice…?”
The pause eventually caught Apple Bloom off-guard; she blinked and looked up. “Sure.”
“Well, there’s nothing wrong with not having everything figured out all at once, Apple Bloom.” Daisy muttered the name under her breath. Was it too informal? “Miss Apple Bloom?”
“Shucks, Miss Daisy. You don’t have to call me that. Ah ain’t been Miss Apple Bloom since Cheerilee got mad at me for knocking the chalkboard off the wall.”
Despite herself, Daisy refrained from asking for further details. The Cutie Mark Crusaders had always been walking wrecking balls in pony form, albeit apologetic and rather innocent ones. It was only a mercy they had their cutie marks at last, but a pony like Daisy could never quite believe a relapse was out of the question.
“Well,” she said, and then paused for a moment wondering if she’d said “well” one too many times already, “for what it’s worth, and I’m not much of a judge, but it sounds like you’re giving this some much-needed thought. Worst thing you could do is just charge ahead without thinking.”
Apple Bloom was at an age when she wouldn’t automatically beam at a compliment like this, but there was an upturn at each corner of the mouth that remembered those younger years with fondness.
“Ah guess so,” she said.
Daisy noticed the primroses had lost a few petals to the counter; Apple Bloom was patting and touching them without due care and attention. She opened her mouth to point this out.
“Looks like it worked out nicely for you, though,” said Apple Bloom. “You had everythin’ figured out all at once.”
“Oh dear.” Daisy stretched and groaned in preparation for the long haul. “I’m flattered, but what you’ve heard about my ‘figuring out’ is barely the skin of the apple.”
“Eh?”
Daisy cursed her momentary poetic touch. “I mean it’s not all true. Sure, I was saving up at your age for a place like this, and scouting Ponyville’s houses for a good site, and taking hints and tips off old Mister Greenhooves, but… uh…”
Slowly, it dawned on her this wasn’t quite the angle she'd had in mind.
“I had other ideas, too,” she said, feeling pathetic.
“Yeah? What kind of ideas?” Apple Bloom placed her elbows on the counter and balanced her head comfortably, and for a moment she was a much younger filly again, eagerly drinking all the words of teacherly wisdom washing over her.
Eventually, Daisy fidgeted. She wasn’t used to such an attentive audience.
“Uh…” She looked around desperately. Of course she remembered a lot of those ideas; that was precisely the problem. “Things… I… wanted to do… and take up… and, and stuff. Nothing important.”
Then it occurred to her she was trying to convey the opposite.
“But my point is: you can’t tell in advance which idea’s going to work out.”
“Unless it’s openin’ a shop an’ sellin’ flowers,” said Apple Bloom.
Daisy checked the young face for the merest twitch of smugness. “I happened to be a very forward-thinking filly. If I felt I could be – I dunno – Daredevil Daisy, or something, then I’d have rationally and reasonably come to that conclu–”
“Daredevil… Daisy?”
Another round of smugness-checking. “Just a passing fancy. That’s all.”
Apple Bloom kept her face carefully tight: tight-lipped, taut-eyed, straining at the muscles from forehead to twitching mouth. Not hard to figure out why. If the town of Ponyville ever had a vote to find out who was the most interesting pony of them all, Daisy wouldn’t even qualify to be last. “Daredevil Daisy” was about as likely as “Farmer Twilight” or “Lady Rainbow Dash”.
“’Tain’t nothin’ to be ashamed of,” said Apple Bloom, with a hint of apology dripping off her voice. “Fair’s fair, Ah did all kinds of crazy things when Ah was tryin’ to get a cutie mark. Ah reckon it’s OK to do that kinda stuff when you’re a foal. Get it outta the way, see?”
“And then you grow up and start taking things way too seriously.” Wow, Daisy felt old just saying that.
To her surprise, she got a nod from Apple Bloom. “Beats gettin’ in a pile-up on an Ultra Pony Roller Derby track, Ah bet.”
“Excuse me?”
The filly blushed. “Nothin’. Just one of them things you do. Actually, Ah kinda liked Ultra Pony Roller Derby. Right up until the pile-up.”
As though it were at all likely, Daisy looked around for any sign of intruders or eavesdroppers. No one. Why she’d suspected any different, she didn’t know. Perhaps it was just the usual Flower Trio paranoia creeping up on her.
“Mine was ice skating,” she said.
Apple Bloom frowned. “Your what?”
“Well, when I was starting out, before springtime… I wanted to get involved in Winter Wrap Up. Only I wasn’t much good for the weather team, and animals made me nervous, so I signed up to skate on the ice and help break it up.”
“Ooh, Ah’ve done that a couple of times. Best part’s when you get another pony, and you have a race, except you can’t kick off more than once, or you lose, an’ you get –”
“You get points for doing flips and tricks,” said Daisy, nodding. “And you always had to have a referee in case someone, uh, decided to get creative with their counts.”
“Wow, it ain’t changed much, has it?”
Daisy hummed emphatically.
Apple Bloom frowned. “So what happened? You didn’t like it?”
“Well, it was OK until I fell into the lake.” Daisy winced. “Cold water. Froze solid.” The mere memory made her shiver. “Half the pegasi had to chip me out of an ice block.”
“Ouch.” Yet Apple Bloom leaned forwards, and this time there wasn’t a trace of a smirk. “At least you tried something. You could always go back to it if you wanted.”
“Oh.” Daisy shivered again, not quite done with the freezing memory. “Never again…”
Awkward silence ticked away a few seconds.
“Got the highest score, though, before I fell in.”
“Ha,” said Apple Bloom, and her smile widened. “Never woulda guessed. Ah always thought you were kinda…”
Whatever she was about to say, though, Apple Bloom clamped her mouth shut over it at once.
Suspicious eyes met her. “Kinda what?” said Daisy.
Sagging under defeat, Apple Bloom said, “Jus’… there. Ah mean, Lily goes ‘The horror the horror’ an’ all that, an’ Rose an’ the Doc hang out sometimes. You jus’ didn’t have one of them, uh…”
“I didn’t have a ‘thing’. Yes, I know,” said Daisy dully. “At least I’m not nutty.”
“Unless a stem breaks,” muttered Apple Bloom, but not quietly enough.
By now, Daisy didn’t have it in her to take umbrage. She wasn’t in much of a “taking” mood. Besides, spluttering and getting indignant about it was as pointless as getting offended over someone saying the day had a sun in it. Funny: on her own, she could handle even a monster invasion, or at least was no more panicky than any other pony nearby. Stick her beside Lily and Roseluck, however, and within minutes she herself might utter the words “The horror! The horror!”
“I wasn’t always like that,” said Daisy, and then wished she hadn’t. “Why, when I was your age –”
She really wished she hadn’t put it like that. Way to make herself feel old…
“I mean, back then I could go through a wild meadow without even feeling faint. And they were full of bent stems and trampled flowers.”
Apple Bloom chuckled. “Daredevil Daisy and the Meadow of Messiness.”
Briefly, Daisy bristled. Then she relaxed. Over the years, and thanks to a lot of unfortunate experience, she’d come to know several varieties of chuckle, ranging from the loftily disdainful Canterlot chuckle to the more exuberant ridiculing chuckle of a stallion with no shame. This… was actually quite nice. It was the equivalent of a friendly pat on the ear.
She even tried a few chuckles in turn. “Yeah, I guess I wasn’t much of an adventurer.”
“No shame in that,” said Apple Bloom, aping her elders in her wisdom if not in a convincing tone. “Adventurin’ ain’t what it’s cracked up to be. Trust me on this. One time, Ah almost got caught by a cockatrice tryin’ to find a chicken, an’ another time Ah almost got eaten by this tiger-goat-snake thingy in a swamp.” She grunted over the full body spasm. “Not fun.”
“Good grief.”
“Worst moments of my life, an’ Ah ain’t sayin’ that lightly.”
“I should think not!”
“Ah dunno what Ah’m gonna do when Ah’m older, but adventurin’ ain’t it.”
“I’d recommend indoor work with no heavy lifting, if you want my advice.”
“Huh. You think so?”
“It’s nothing exciting, but you get a decent amount of money and you’re safe and sound and – I think this is important – out of the snow.”
“My thoughts exactly. Anyway, how do you get the flowers in winter? Ah thought they only bloomed in the warmer months.”
“We make special arrangements with the weather team. And grow some of our own.”
“What, indoors?”
Daisy smirked and cracked her joints, or tried to; she mostly just hurt her forelimbs and had to slowly lower them without yelping. “Well… we are earth ponies, aren’t we? It’s… kind of our thing.”
“Where?”
Daisy’s gaze flicked down to the floorboards briefly. A thrill jolted her spine. Hardly anyone had ever asked about the winter arrangement. Hardly anyone even knew about the underground rooms, all full of flower pots and orange lamps and pipes branching out from the main tank. Only an earth pony could pull it off; anyone else would end up with shrivelled bits fit only for compost.
But then, she hadn’t spoken to anyone who could listen like Apple Bloom. The filly was starving for surprises, and her ears more than her eyes were prominent, almost staring. It was easy to believe she’d try a million things just to get one cutie mark.
“So what else do you do?” Apple Bloom shuffled where she stood, still rearing up with hooves on the counter, trying to get comfortable.
“Uh… nothing exciting. Just, uh, stockbooks and ledgers – well, not a lot of ledgers these days, we outsource them, but – and… really, just boring business stuff.”
“Invoices? You deal with invoices and receipts too?”
Again, suspicion peeked out of Daisy’s face. “Well, yes…”
“Ah know about that stuff. We deal with them all the time at Sweet Apple Acres.”
“I guess, but you don’t… Do you?”
Apple Bloom smirked, full preteen smugness radiating out from it as vigorously as the petals of a sunflower. “Ah’ve been helpin’ Applejack and Big Mac out on the farm since Ah was old enough to hold a broom. Trust me, Ah know what Ah’m talkin’ about.”
“That’s… unusual.”
“Not really. Applejack and Big Mac did the same thing. Ah always wondered if Ah’d just work on the farm same as them when Ah grew up. Anyway, Big Mac’s been teachin’ me numbers, an’ Applejack lets me an’ Granny do the paperwork if she’s sick or busy adventurin’. If it weren’t for me,” she continued, puffing up her chest, “who knows what the farm’d be like now.”
Daisy marvelled. She’d thought she was an efficient little filly back then, but here she was standing in the presence of a master. Perhaps some of the details were bloated out of proportion, but Apple Bloom spoke so confidently that Daisy believed her out of sheer spellbound amazement.
Perhaps Apple Bloom had sensed something wrong in her comments, because she deflated and added, “That said, all the best times Ah had were with Sweetie Belle an’ Scootaloo. Like the one time when we did pony zip linin’, only we broke the cable an’ ended up covered in tree sap, but that was OK ‘cause we found out my sister went to Manehattan once, so all’s well that ended well, Ah reckon.”
“Yeah,” said Daisy with a smile and a sigh. “Just spending time hanging out. Sounds nice.”
“Yeah…” Apple Bloom sighed too, though without the smile.
Daisy licked her lips. She couldn’t remember ever feeling so lively, not for the longest time. Even Roseluck at her giddiest had never shone with this much enthusiasm. Daisy’s own veins burned with it. She could almost conjure her younger filly self again, while Apple Bloom was around.
Instead, she said, “You’re very lucky, Apple Bloom.”
“Am Ah?” Exhausted all of a sudden, the filly struggled to lift her head up and meet her gaze.
“Yep. You’ve got a long time yet before you even think about saying goodbye to your friends. Anyway, if they go their separate ways, at least you’ll have some good memories to take with you, don’t you think?”
Apple Bloom gave her a sidelong look. “You didn’t. You an’ Lily an’ Roseluck never went your separate ways.”
“Yeah,” said Daisy, squirming a little; she wasn’t really good at heartfelt speeches. “But we’re not exactly…”
“What?”
She sighed. “Well, young anymore, I guess.”
“Granny Smith says you’re only as young as you feel.”
Daisy suddenly and urgently refrained from comment at this point.
“Anyway, what’s stoppin’ you? If you wanna go out an’ do something diff’rent, seems silly not to do it.”
“But the business –”
“Oh, business is OK, Ah reckon,” said Apple Bloom with typical foalhood airiness, “but friends are what’s really important, otherwise what’s the money for the business gonna do?”
“It’s not that simple,” said Daisy wretchedly.
“Maybe. Ah could find someone to help, if you want.”
Daisy offered a placatory smile. “You don’t have to do that.”
“Why? You reckon you’ll think of something, right?” Apple Bloom’s innocent eyes shone.
With her cheeks burning, Daisy nodded, sheer fascination holding her down. The way Apple Bloom so casually said that, it was as if she, Daisy, had been convinced she were blind and then been told she’d just had her eyes shut for too long. A lot of surprised blinking followed. Even the shop – which a moment ago had looked like a wooden prison – now seemed more like the welcome hall leading to somewhere greater, brighter, more full of delightful surprises beyond her dreams.
“I’ll think about it,” said Daisy, and to her own astonishment realized she wasn’t speaking on automatic, but actually meant it. Her thoughts hummed and creaked into life even now. “What are you going to do, though?”
“Ah still ain’t sure,” said Apple Bloom. “But you know what? Ah could talk to some more ponies, like Granny Smith – ‘cause she knows everything – an’ Big Mac an’ Applejack, an’ maybe Cheerilee again. Ah got time. Ah’ll figure something out.”
I actually meant about the bouquet, thought Daisy. She let this one go.
“Counselling might be a good bet,” she said.
Apple Bloom screwed up her face, only to give way to a thoughtful pout. “Ah’ll think about it. Ain’t sayin’ yes an’ ain’t sayin’ no.”
Once more, Daisy was surprised; this time, Apple Bloom picked up the primroses – or at least what was left of them when half the petals had fallen off – and offered them to her.
“What?” said Daisy.
“Ah think Ah figured out my idea! Thanks for all the help an’ everything. This could be a cutie mark ‘thank you’ gift!”
Now it was Daisy’s turn to screw up her face. “No thanks. Sweet of you, but if you think about it, it wouldn’t work.”
She looked around the shop, or technically at the hundreds of flowers from pink ceiling to plain floorboards.
“Trust me on this,” she added.
“Oh.” Apple Bloom grinned sheepishly. “Sorry. Ah didn’t think.”
Instead, Daisy walked around the counter – wincing as she shifted limbs that had gone stiff and numb – and came back with a fresh batch of primroses. It wasn’t good business practice, and she’d never get away with doing it twice, but she remembered all too well how dead she’d been only a few minutes ago.
“Here,” she said. “Try not to ruin these ones too soon, OK?”
“Wow! Thanks a lot! How much do I –?”
“Consider them already paid for, and make sure you do some good with them. Whatever your idea turns out to be.” Business sense prompted her to add, “This isn’t a precedent, just so you understand. I’m simply not letting you go out with half-ruined flowers. Ponies talk about that kind of thing.”
“Ah.” Apple Bloom winked as though from one professional to another. “Got it. Thanks again!”
Floorboards creaked under her hoofsteps. Daisy waited for the bell to tinkle, hoping the rushing cheer inside her would last her through the next few hours until closing time…
…when she noticed Apple Bloom coming back one more time.
“Did I mess up your change?” Daisy said at once.
“No, Ah was jus’ thinkin’ if it’d be OK Ah come over again tomorrow? Ah wanna see if your invoices are like ours.”
Daisy raised an eyebrow at her. “Why?”
“Well, if Ah’m gonna even think about joinin’ another business one day, Ah reckon Ah’d need some idea what to expect. That’s just sensible, right?”
“From a florist’s?” Daisy wished this didn’t make her grimace doubtfully, but she knew she had no illusions – well, she hoped she had no illusions – about how flower-selling fitted in the grand scheme of things.
Apple Bloom looked politely blank for a moment. Privately, Daisy awarded her several points for not even trying to answer that question.
“Ah can come visit, right?”
“Sure,” said Daisy, unable to think of anything else. “We’ll be open as usual.”
“Right! See you then!” Tinkle. Creak of hinges. Click. The yellow shape behind the glass scampered out of sight.
Alone again, Daisy stood at the counter, in the very shop of her dreams, and… Nah, she wasn’t going to get overly dramatic over this. That wasn’t sensible. That wasn’t – she preened herself for a moment – Daisy’s style.
Oh, she might not be an explorer, or an inventor, or a cutie mark crusader full of potential. As far as her career went, perhaps she was stuck with the three daisies on her flank.
Then again, didn’t the teacher Cheerilee have three daisies on her flank? And she wasn’t called “Cheerilee” for nothing. Perhaps she’d ask Apple Bloom tomorrow how creatively a cutie mark could be interpreted. Foal as she was, she was also officially a kind of cutie mark expert, and a foal too easily swamped by new ideas could do with something small and simple and undemanding to focus on.
No other customers came in. For a few happy hours, Daisy watched her own memories play out on the screen inside her mind. After all, she was probably being too hasty. Business would pick up again sooner or later. The key was to act sensible.
Besides, from a certain point of view… it wasn’t sensible to grow bored… in a shop while it was quiet…
And if it meant – even if only in her head – she could again be Daredevil Daisy the meadow explorer… well, amid the dashes of colour and the symphony of perfume, there was more than one way to enjoy the songs of childhood.
