Cursorial Hunter

After a quick lunch of peanut butter and carnation sandwiches, made by Rhubarb, and lemonade, made by Yards, they sat out for the swimming hole. The afternoon sun in the late spring day was warm enough to entice many into the first dip of the year. As such the small lake was packed with ponies all over the beaches and water. The foal's heart fell.

“Hey, it's alright. I'll find us a less crowded place to go swim.”

Others undoubtedly had come to the other conclusion and would be heading up stream the small river that fed it. As such that direction would be little better. He began to look for the underground trickleways and paths that his grandmother had shown him. To find a spot that others wouldn't notice. He felt his horn vibrate softly, attuning to the flow of water. The faster the water flowed, the faster his magic vibrated his horn, creating in him a dowsing rod. Then he saw a foal that he though he'd recognized from around the farm. “Isn't that your little friend? Whatshermane?”

Rhubarb looked where his hoof was pointing. “Wild Flower? Yeah, we're naught friends no more. She gaught her cutie mark. Says she can't be friends anymore 'cause I got a blank flank.”

Ah, so this is where all this is coming from.

“Well, forget her then. If she's willing to let something like not having a cutie mark come between you and her, then she doesn't need to be your friend anymore.”

The cream colored foal looked down, pawing at the grass under her hoof. “Yeah, but nauw nopony wants to be my friend.”

“Why not?” Yards started walking in the direction of the strongest vibration. It was away from town, towards the Everfree, but from the vibrations he was getting, it should surface well before they got close to anything dangerous.

“I don't know. Normal ponies keep callin' me spoilt and rich. But da rich ponies call me stupid and dirt farmer.”

“Well, did you try kicking them in the face?” Yards asked, half listening.

The filly was aghast. “WHAT? I couldn't do that!”

“Why not? You're an Apple. You're easily stronger than any three of them put together.” His head was low, there were multiple streams crossing here.

“I don't want to hurt nopony!” She was almost in tears.

Yards shrugged. “Well, if you're not willing to play to your strengths... wait, why do they think that you're rich?” He was paying more attention to her now. They were about to the new pond he'd found. It was reading clean with a soft current. Should be good for swimming.

“I have food everyday that mamma fixes and ain't just grass, an I has that new baull, an I try an help like Mah does but ponies just seem to get upset wit me.”

“Yeah, being generous is hard. It's one of those things adults argue about because there's no one good way to do it. If you're always butting into peoples lives and making them take stuff, then they resent your help and think you're attempting dominance over them. If you always give to some ponies, then they'll always just take and never learn to do for themselves. Personally I find it's easiest to just help the ponies that ask for help. That way they don't get mad, and if they ask too often you tell them to quit mooching.”

“What's mooching?”

“It's when you just lay around all the time without helping with chores, but still expect people to take care of you.”

“Like Delta?”

Yards shook his head. “Delta's not a mooch. She cleans the house and my work areas.”

“Yeah, but she's always laying around.”

“She can't do as much as we do. How much you do isn't as important as you do what you can.”

“Why can't she do more?”

“She doesn't know how. Imagine trying to fit in if you moved into a changelng hive. You wouldn't know what to do, would you?”

“No.”

“Well, she's learning. Like you are.”

“Am I a mooing?”

“No you're a foal. Your job is to perpetually ask questions. Which you're really good at.”

“What does perpetual mean?”

“See?”

“Huh?”

“Aren't there any other foals in your school that don't have their cutie marks?”

“Yeah...” Her voice was hesitant, but he missed it as they came over a knoll and he saw the spot he'd been looking for. The spring was a little more grown up with weeds than he'd liked, but the bottom was a gentle slope with plenty of room for her to safely splash about.

“So be friends with them.”

“Well, Crop Duster, well, she smells.”

That got Yard's full attention. As foul smelling and filthy as foals were, when they said somepony else smelled bad the stench must be atrocious.

“An Drybrush is a colt. Momma says I ain't allowed to have a coltfriend until I'm 22.”

Yards laughed as he rushed into the spring. The water was incredibly cold. He dove down to see how deep it got and to help him acclimate to the cold. It eventually went well over his head, but there didn't appear to be anything dangerous.

He surfaced with a “Wooo!”

“Is it okay?”

“Well, any colder and I'd be a mare, but don't go over your head and it'll be okay.”

She waded in, shivering when she got to her knees.

“Well, what do you like to do?”

“Swim, color.”

“Well, find somepony who likes to do that too.”

“But that's not what my cutie mark's in.”

“It doesn't matter. You don't have to have everything in common with your friends. Celestia's sweet flank, you don't even have to agree with your friends.” He swam back to her. She splashed at him. He ducked under the water to hide then came up and spit a great gout of water in her face. She squealed.

A cloud streaked in between them, spun 180, drifted to the right in a half circle and skid to a stop in between the two.
Riding the cloud with her hooves at the front end was on orange pegasus with purple mane and tail. Her wings were stunted and her mane had a feathered look as if it had been blown back by the winds. A reddish-orange butterfly with pink wings and a gold starflower on each side decorated her flank.

“Hey, Yards, been looking for you.”

“What's up, Scoots?”

“I've got to decline your request for rain.” She sat down on the edge of the cloud, dangling her hooves in the water. She looked down at the rippling reflections, rather than making eye contact.

“Scoots, you're killing me! Our corn is making. We need that rain.”

“Not as much as the Mazes, and I've only got enough pony power to make enough rain for one of you. Corn is their main crop so I've got to give it to them. I'm sorry.”

He sighed and dipped his head, before running a soggy hoof across his brow. “So this means we get precedence during apple season?”

“Of course.”

“And I don't suppose there's anything else you or I could do?”

“I'm already putting in more overtime than Cloudsdale's willing to pay us. Unless you can find some more pegasi there's just nothing I can do. Though, you may want to check with your librarian friend.” She elbowed him conspiratorially. “I'm sure there's something the two of you could do to help out with the pegasi population problem. Uh? Eh?”

Yards slipped on the bottom, submerging himself to hide his embarrassment. The cold water pushed the blood from the surface. Slowly he rose up. “Well, that means I've got about two weeks to come up with something. Thanks for the heads up.”

She looked down at the foal. “Is she-?

“This is Rhubarb Salad. Apple Rhubarb's filly.”

“Oh hey there. Are you out crusading?”

For the first time since Yards had ever met her, Little Rhu was silent.

“Huh, so not getting your cutie mark for talkin' to strangers. That's good.” She rubbed the back of her head in embarrassment.

“Rhu, say hello,” Yards chided.

“Uh, hi,” she pawed at the water.

“So, how's the ol' clubhouse?”

She looked at her curiously.

“Awh, you haven't found the Cutie Mark Crusader’s Clubhouse?”

That had them both curious. She scoffed. “Alright, you know the third hill of apples, there by the grove of non-fruit trees? Yeah, it's out there.” She sighed. “I misspent a lot of my youth there. Hope it's still up there, for your sakes.” She gave him a sad smile. “Well, I guess I better get back to work.” She climbed back on top of her cloud and kicked it in the back. Her tiny wings began to move at hummingbird speeds and she dashed out over the spring, her cloud climbing in a steady incline.

“Yards?” asked Rhu.

“Yes?” he asked, annoyed at her rudeness.

“What's wrong with her wings?”

Well, she wasn't as rude as he thought. “Ultimately nothing. They're just small. The problem is her magic.”

“Wha?”

“Scootaloo is the local assistant weather manager. She's responsible for dealing with all our requests for weather. She has a birth defect. Her body doesn't generate enough magic to allow her to fly. So she has her cloud-chair to help her fly.”

“She's a pegasus tha' can't fly?”

Yards nodded.

She almost burst into tears. “Tha's horrible!”

“Yet she doesn't let it get the better of her.” Deep down he hoped the filly'd be able to hold on to that level of compassion as an adult. The world really needed more ponies like that in it.

“So, they can't give her bigger wings?”

“It wouldn't help. A pegasi uses their wings more for steering. The ability to fly comes from their magic. A lot of pegasi develop a psychosomatic cognition that there's a correlation, so if you damage their wings they think they can't fly so they actually can't.” The foals eyes glazed over.

“H-h, they can fly without their wings?”

“If they believe they can, and their bodies produce enough magic, then yes, they can fly without wings.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, there was this one pegasus in the war, Messer Wind. He flew from Marephis to Canterlot to warn Celestia of Dash's route. He almost made it there without his wings.”

“What happened?”

“His wings were shot off in the battle by anti-air weapons, he flew off with Lunari hot on his tail. He made it to the Everfree before he passed out from the exhaustion and blood loss. Then Astro Rey, the only Lunari still following him was so moved by his acts that he picked him up and flew him the rest of the way.”

“Wow,” she looked down thinking. He splashed her with a kick from his hoof into the water. She squealed and splashed back.