Flying Low

by Word Wizard

Rating: everyone
Tags: Original Character, Comedy, Slice of Life, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic
Length: 6374

Thunder Rain, A small colt with an intimidating name is under a lot of presure to be the best flyer Equestria has ever seen by his parents, but what if he just wants to do needlework?

Thunder Rain, his name given by his parents in high hopes of what he would be, doesn't like to fly, in fact he'd rather spend his time at community sewing lessons! Thunder just can't tell his parents, but how is he going to keep going on like this, flying by day and sewing by night? Sometimes, you just have to take a leap of faith and hope the world understands.

CANCELLED UNTIL FURTHER NOTICE *******

Published 2013-07-14 19:40:02 UTC
Last updated 2013-07-18 00:56:01 UTC

Chapter 1: High Hopes

"Thunder!" Storm Valor called his son, "Thunder, you just can't spend ALL day in your room!"

It's a bright and sunny day in Clousdale, the city in the sky. Pegasi of all shapes and sizes flying, talking under ornate buildings. Thunder Rain is in his bedroom, sulking, as it were.

"Father, why do I have to fly?" Thunder calls from behind a closed door.

"Because, well, because that's what all the colts your age do, come on!" Thunders father knocked on the door, "We don't have all day?"

"Why not?" Thunder Rain said, hiding beneath his covers.

"Son, you know as much as I do that we named you Thunder Rain for a reason, because your going to follow in the family hoofsteps and win the young flyer's competition, just like I did, and my father, and his father...." Storm said, rattling on about heritage and all that. Thunder had heard this lecture a thousand times, his father constantly telling him how he really ought to fly.

Thunder sighed, knowing that the only thing to please his father would be to come out and try to go flying. He pulls at his dark gray wings, thinking to himself, If only you were gone, I could just not have to fly!

Thunder's bright yellow hair and dark gray coat, ragged and worn from hiding in bed, pulled themselves to order as Thunder prepared to walk out the door.

"I'm coming, I'm coming," He calls to his father, who is still banging on the wooden door, making the hinges creak as it bends inward.

"Good, I'm glad you've finally seen reason," Thunder's father, Storm Valor said, pacing up and down in front of his son's bedroom door, "And you be careful this time, we don't want a repeat of yesterday's flying session." Once again, Thunder had heard this line a hundred times.

As much as the small gray colt wanted to please his father, he just couldn't seem to fly.

"Here I am, happy?" Thunder says, throwing open the door.

"Good, come on now," Storm Valor says, ushering his son down the steps and out the door. "Now, son, I want you to fly UP, not DOWN, get it?" Thunder's father said, emphasizing on the words UP and DOWN as though Thunder didn't know what they meant.

"Yeah dad, I know..."

"Get UP there then!"

Thunder sighed as he stretched his wings, Why, why, do I let him talk me into this? He thought, getting ready to plunge up into the sky. The truth is, as much as his name would protest, Thunder loves fabric, clothing of all kinds. His father noticed this early on in his life and has been trying to steer Thunder in the "proper" direction for upcoming colts, but Thunder would not be deterred.

Many a time, Storm would sit his son down and explain the benifets of flying, but Thunder either didn't care or was too wrapped up trying to figure out how his father's vest was made to listen.

His mother, Rain Verge, wouldn't have her son showing the least bit of interest in un coltish things, but she wasn't as direct in approach to the issue as her husband. She would often make snide comments to her son whenever he was distracted by a garment, so Thunder grew to dislike her, avoiding her whenever possible.

Right now though, Thunder really wished he was anywhere but here, flying practice....the part of the day he most dreaded.

"Go on son, like this," Storm Valor explains to his son, shooting up in the air, his yellow coat shining in the sunlight. "You try," He says to Thunder, gesturing for him to join.

Thunder spread his wings, "I'm not sure about this, dad," He said, but all in all, he attempts to fly up.

Thunder flaps with all his might, trying, to no avail to reach his father. Shooting up a couple of feet, but realizing how high he is....and being to scared to keep flapping, fell to the ground with a thump.

"Son, what have I told you about looking down?" Storm Valor said, landing gently next to his son, "You really haft to work on this fear of heights."

"Yeah yeah," Thunder pops his head out of the cloud he landed in, "But why can't I try sewing?"

"Thunder! You can't, who knows what might happen to you!" Storm Valor said, his black ears flapping back at the very thought of his son turning to needlework. "Now," Storm said to his son, hastily changing the subject, "UP, not DOWN, that's where you look. Try again."

"Alright dad..." Thunder says uncertainly, looking at his father rising into the deep blue sky. Thunder tried to fly again, this time making five feet up into the air, and hovering wildly, trying to maintain altitude.

"Great job son!" His father said, hovering with ease next to him, his yellow wings flashing up and down with barely any effort, "Now, just try to go a little higher..."

Thunder is too foucused now to respond, pouring all his energy into flying, trying hard to ignore the ground, he flies higher into the air.

"Great job!" His father said, flying along side his son, beaming with pride, "Higher!"

Thunder continues to rise, slowly, now ten feet above the ground, he notices something, something that shatters his concentration compleatly. Rema Flash, one of the greatest pegasus fashion designers in Equestria flies by the father son flying lesson. Thunder's mouth drops open.

Rema is wearing a new gown, encrusted with gems and rubies, a large billowing blue train flows off her back, her deep blue wings, matching the sky flapping through perfectly cut holes as she effortlessly hovers while talking with another pony.

Thunder is so agog at the sight of the dress, he forgets completely about his wings, thinking only of how the garment was stiched together.

"Thunder!" Storm screamed, diving down after his falling son, but it's too late. Thunder, realizing his own life could be on the line, stretches his wings, and tries gliding, the subject of yesterday's lesson. The dark gray streak starts to curve, evening out above the ground as Thunder tries with all his might to break, he doesn't notice the tree coming up on him.

WHAM!!!

Thunder hit the tree with an increadible amount of force, creating a pony shaped hole in it's gnarled oaken bark. A few feet away lied a little gray colt, limp and motionless, hiden among the forest foliage.

Chapter 2: Needle and Thread

Thunder awoke half an hour later, wondering where he was.

"Hello, anypony?" He asked, only recieving a dull hoot in reply. He was in Everfree forest, the dark forest stretched before him, trees with gnarled branches dangling their way above the ferns and ground cover in which Thunder was standing.

"Great, just great," He muttered to himself, starting to walk off in the direction of the light, "I'm gonna get it when I go home."

Moment's ago, Storm Valor and a few other stallions from Cloudsdale were scouring the skies and ground for Thunder Rain, but too scared to go into Everfree forest, they retreated to let the colt find his own way back. "Not that great of a loss if doesn't make it, but he is my kid, and I love him, It's just that he's so frusterating! " Thunder's father had been saying, over and over again.

Thunder Rain emerged from the dark forest, the sun hitting him like a wall. Squinting, he sees a green medow dotted with wildlife stretching before him, not too far after, Ponyville looms in the distance. Little gray bunnies, almost the color of Thunder's coat, hop about, standing up and staring at the pony,

One particularly cheeky rabbit hopped all the way up to Thunder and looked at him, hoof to mane, and scampered off into the bushes.

Thunder continued walking, even after the apparently bipedal visitor had finished his inspection, towards Ponyville. "Now, I hear there's a very nice pony who runs a shop called the Carosel Boutique...I wonder if I could get sewing lessons from her, at least some fabric and a needle and thread" Thunder thinks out loud while he walks toward the town.

Arriving in Ponyville, Thunder walks into the town square. It isn't filled with ponies, but a good number hang around, chatting with each other. In the center of the square, a fountain sprays misty water high into the air, only for it to fall down again into the basin that surrounds the hose.

Thunder sidles up to a purple pony, asking about directions to the boutique.

"Uh, excuse me, miss?" He attempts to catch the attention of the mare, who is packing her saddle bags with books after a long day reading on the a bench in the town square.

"Yes?" Twilight Sparkle turns her head around to look at the new comer. Her dark purple mane shining in the sunlight, while her horn is still buisily packing books into her bags.

"Uh, miss, uh," Thunder said, shyly, "I was just looking for directions to the boutique."

"Oh," Twilight said, "I'm Twilight Sparkle, the boutique is straight up the dirt path to your left, why are you heading there?"

"Oh, uh, I'd like to take sewing lessons from the mare who runs it," Thunder said, slightly embarressed, expecting Twilight to burst out laughing and make fun of him, however she doesn't seem at all surprised by the statement.

"Rarity is always willing to teach any young pony parts of her knowledge, I hope you have a good time!" Twilight closes her saddlebags and walks off, leaving Thunder to wonder about her response.

"Wow," Thunder Rain said to himself, while walking up the dirt path, "Maybe I won't get laughed at all the time!"

~~~~

Rarity was happily humming to herself as she sewed the last stitches into a special order that was due by that evening.

"I do hope Mrs. Flash likes this!" Rarity said to herself, admiring her work, but at the same time worrying if it would be enough.

KNOCK! KNOCK!

"Come on in!" Rarity sang out to the offender of the door. Thunder Rain walks in, shyly stepping onto the bristly door mat. "Ah, hello dear, what can I get for you?" She said to the young colt that had just walked in.

"Uh, I'd like to learn how to sew..." Thunder said, gaining enough conviction to speak up for himself, "Don't laugh." He stared into Rarity's blue eyes.

"Now why would I laugh? Darling, I am happy to see children your age take an interest in the, finer arts!" Rarity said, drawing Thunder into the back room. "Now, how much do you know about sewing?"

"Well," Thunder started, proceeding to explain to Rarity many, many things about how he noticed dress are put together. "And, oh, when you want a plum on top, you often haft to put two triangles on either side to keep it upright, but don't make them too big or it will ruin the effect!" Thunder finished, leaving Rarity with the impression that she has a miniature dress designer on her hooves.

"It sounds as though you already know an awful lot!" She said, pouring Thunder another cup of tea, "Why haven't you taken lessons sooner?"

Thunder hung his head at this comment, "My parents don't want me to sew, they think I should be a great flyer, but I hate flying!" He sniffled a little sob before looking back up at Rarity, "I just hate flying....But I'd like to make my parents happy...." He trailed off, sniffling, but trying to hide it this time.

"Now now, darling, there's nothing wrong with wanting to make ones parents happy, but you can't squash natural talent in doing so! There's a balance...Here, I'll teach you how to do a simple stitch..."

The rest of the afternoon was spent happily, on both parties, teaching and sewing. Thunder learned about the overhoof and underhoof stitch and had a grand time sticking different pieces of fabric together with no apparent purpose. Rarity was beaming at the progress of her new pupil, taking great interest in Thunder's every move, carefully correcting him when needed.

That evening, Thunder said goodbye to Rarity, it was getting late and he had better be getting back home.

"Well, have a good time trying out everything you've learned today! Do you want another lesson next week?" Rarity asked, handing Thunder a pile of brightly colored fabrics and a shiny box containing a needle and two spools of thread.

"Thanks a lot, miss Rarity! I'd love to come back next week!" Thunder said, taking the fabrics into his hooves and putting them into some lended saddlebags of Rarity's.

"Oh that would be lovely!" Rarity said, "Oh, and just Rarity, you don't need to call me 'miss'."

"Ok, Rarity!" Thunder Rain said, admiring the white pony in the twilight.

"Now get along home now, have a good week!" Rarity softly closes the door as her white figure disappears behind it's oaken surface.

Now, with a spring in his step Thunder Rain trots directly below his parent's house and, gathering all his will and strength, flies up and lands, err, not quite gracefully, on the front porch.

He gulps, trying to hide the saddlebags, but eventually decides to leave them in a bush by the front door. Opening the door, he confronts his parents....

Chapter 3: Home Again

"I'm home!" Thunder Rain called, opening the door to his house for the first time in an afternoon.

"Thunder!" Both his parents called out in surprise.

"Thunder, I'm glad your safe!" Thunder's mother said, walking in from the kitchen to hug her son, "What were you doing this afternoon?"

Thunder gulped, "Uh...I've just been, uh, working on my flying!" he said shakily.

"Ah, I knew you'd warm up to it!" Thunder's father said from behind the newspaper, Equestria Daily, "I have a feeling that you're going to do better tomorrow!"

"Uh yeah," Thunder said, a little nervous about raising his father's expectations, "Well, I'm hungry, flying like that all afternoon..."

"You must be, come on into the kitchen!" Thunder's mother, Rain Verge, said, gesturing for the little dark gray colt to come into the next room.

"Thanks," Thunder said, smiling up at his mother, her brown coat shining in the torchlight, "You're the best."

"You are to, here, I have celery pie, your favorite!" Thunder's mother opened the cupboard and brought out a large savory pie, the brown crust perfect, except for the occasional celery juice leak. Thunder liked his lips.

"So, where did you practice your flying?" Rain Verge asked, after letting her son settle into his eating for a few minutes.

Thunder took a long time chewing and swallowing that bite, all the while he was thinking of what to say. "Well, I started over Ponyville, and made my way over Everfree forest...and came back here!"

"That's terrific, I'm glad you had a good time," His mother said, her blue eyes skeptical but believing, so far as Thunder knew.

Taking another bite of celery pie, Thunder explained about all the dresses he saw on his trip over Ponyville, he knew this was probably a bad idea, but he just had to tell somepony. As she listened, Rain Verge's ears slowly went down, her previously hopeful face turning back to frustration.

"What's your obsession with garments!" Rain Verge threw up her hooves in frustration while glaring at the dark gray colt that lay in front of her, "Why, when I was your age, I hated clothes! All the other mares were sewing, sewing sewing sewing, but I wanted to fly in the Wonderbolts, I used to sit up nights, dreaming. And now, YOU, my only son, come along and want to do horrible things like Sew?" Rain Verge, appropriate to her name, had a tendency to be completely complacent for awhile, but explode after a few weeks. This was this months explosion.

"I'm sorry ma, it's just.." Thunder tried to defend himself, "I don't like clothing, I'm sorry I said all those things."

"Well good, and if I were you, young colt, I'd go for proper things that colts your age do, like flying!" Said Thunders mother, her rage subsiding at last, "It's been quite an evening, now go upstairs and go to bed! And think about your life," She added, snidely before retreating to her own bedroom for the evening.

Thunder Rain plodded out to the front porch to watch the sun set. The cool night breeze wafted through Cloudsdale, fluttering flags and blowing Thunders yellow mane to the side. Watching the sky, Thunder noticed many other pegasi colts, around his age, playing in the clouds. Thunder watched and sighed, thinking to himself, If mother wanted to be a Wonderbolt when her parents were urging her to be a dress maker, how come she doesn't understand me? Thinking troubled thoughts like these, the little dark gray colt watched the yellow ball of sun disappear beyond the horizon.

After the first few stars came out, Thunder turned his mind to sewing...secretly. Walking over to the bushes where he hid the saddlebags containing his most prized possessions only an hour before; he dug around in the foliage until his hoof hit leather, and he pulled out the saddlebags. Now, to get these up to my room.... Thunder thought, plotting in his head how to sneak past his father with the bags.

The task was a lot easier than he thought, Storm Valor, wrapped up in his newspaper didn't look over his shoulder as his son departed up the stairs.

"Goodnight, Thunder," He called to his son, waving a hoof in his general direction, "Have a good sleep."

"Uh, goodnight dad," Thunder said, hastily continuing up the steps before Storm looked in his direction.

Safely behind the oaken door of his bedroom, Thunder unpacked the saddlebags, smiling in glee as he took one bolt of fabric out after the next,finally followed by the little metal locket containing the needle and spools of thread.

For many happy hours he sewed away in the candlelight, glancing at the clock only occasionally. After producing a, err, piece of, for lack of a better word, 'thing' he packed away his materials, and admired his work. Holding the 'thing' up to the candlelight, he smiled, being very proud of this 'thing' and wondering what Rarity was going to make of it in a weeks time. If I do this kind of work for the whole week, who knows what I'll have created? he thought to himself excitedly.

But, as much as he hated it, he was tired. Glancing over his shoulder at the clock, he jumped a little to see it was almost eleven o'clock, when he had started at seven! Thunder quickly blew out his candle and got into bed, falling asleep with dreams of what he would create the next night.

Chapter 4: Coping

It was a long day at the Ponyville schoolhouse, especially for Thunder Rain. The usual bullying and teasing went on, but this day there was a new factor...energy. For three days now, Thunder had been staying up late, usually until eleven or so, sometimes later, and it was starting to take it's toll.

Earlier that day, Thunder was rudely awakened by his mother, urging to go or be late for the pegasus school bus. The pegasus school bus was a bus that took young pegasi, too young to fly, to the Ponyville schoolhouse, so their parents didn't have to carry them. Thunder was the oldest on the bus, as flying never sat comfortable with the little stallion, and, despite a year of disappointments, Thunder's father was still trying to change that.

Each day after school, Thunder would come home to an eager Storm Valor, dressed in full weather factory regalia, as he hadn't time to change before Thunder came home, waiting to take his son off for flying lessons. Though stubborn and annoying at times, Thunder had to admit: His father had a lot of hope for him.

"Schoolbag dropped off?" Storm asked his son after he had gotten off the bus one afternoon.

"Negative," Thunder replied coldly, cranky because of lack of sleep and his budding love for sewing.

"Well, fix that!" Thunder's father replied hotly, picking up on his son's feelings.

"Affermitive," Thunder said in a monotone of disgust after dropping his school saddlebags on the front porch with a thump.

"Alright, lets warm up with some simple flying," Storm Valor said, "Just follow me." As much as he hated it, Thunder was starting to get better at flying, mostly because he wanted to be able to see Rarity that next weekend without having to jump off his cloud.

"Yes, father," Thunder Rain called to his father as he took flight. The wind rushing past his ears, Thunder flapped his wings as hard as his little body would let him, shooting straight up to his father, watching the look of surprise on his father's yellow face.

"Great job!" Storm said to his son after revcovering from the shock of the colt hovering in front of him actually DOING something besides crashing.

"Thanks," Thunder replied, obviously bored, "Can I go in now?"

"Um, no, that's just warm ups," Storm Valor said, checking his clipboard, "Now, today's lesson is...hmm, lets see....ah yes! Diving."

Thunder gulped, that was the part of flying he most hated, looking down. The little colt brushed his yellow mane back over his head, the blue eyes on his face narrowed in an act of determination.

Thunder's new philosophy on flying was: Do it well so you don't get bothered, and do it fast so you don't waste too much sewing time.

"Ok son, follow my lead," Storm Valor started to plunge toward the ground, a yellow streak left in his wake. Storm had selected the training for this lesson over the marsh, that way, if Thunder crashed, as he usually did, at least he'd land in water.

Putting his head down, the little dark gray stallion gritted his teeth and plunged after his father, leaving a trail of gray smoke, intermixed with bright yellow lightning, in his wake. The world was a blur as Thunder Rain dived after his father, his teeth chattering in the wind. Despite being blurry, Thunder recognized something on the ground, something getting closer...fast. It was the ground.

"Pull up!" Storm Valor called to his son, shifting his wings so he skimmed just above the lake. Thunder, working very hard with his mind and wings together, he shifted into position two, or upwards position.

Thunder had been taught in a variety of ways, trying to hammer the ideals of flying into the poor colt's head, but only one method really stuck with Thunder; The Yaskervich position method. Yaskervich was a professor at the school for not so gifted fliers in Canterlot. Working with many teaching ideas, Yaskervich was able to hammer together a practicle, simple and effective way to remember wing positions...well, numbered positions, as it were. Each position had it's own purpose, one that Thunder was painfully aware of, as he had had it hammered into his head ever since his parents discovered he was learning something from the method. Although it hadn't helped him with his flying until now, it was useful to know.

Pulling up in the second position, Thunder evened out with the lake, still directly in the wake of his father. Switching back to position one, gliding position, Thunder patted himself on the back, well, metaphoricly speaking.

~~~~

After flying lessons that afternoon, Thunder went inside to a warm welcome by Rain Verge.

"Well, look who did a good job at their lesson!" Thunder's mother said, coming over to noogie the little colt on the mane. Thunder had never before had this sign of affection from his mother, but he embraced it as a sign of doing things right.

"Thanks! Now, I really have some homework I need to get to upstairs..." Thunder said after finishing the embrace with the brown mare.

"Honestly! I'm just so proud of you, taking school so seriously as well, you've been studying for the whole afternoon for the last few days, keep it up honey!" Rain Verge called to her son as he excitedly ran up the steps.

"Honey, you forgot your schoolbag," Thunder's mother called, her voice sounding extremely un impressed.

"Heh, oops! Thanks!" Thunder snatched up the leather saddlebag and ran back up stairs, panting as soon as he closed the oaken door to his bedroom.

This was Thunder's method of not staying up all night, he would sew all afternoon and into the evening while claiming to be doing his homework. Then, before going to bed that night, he would rush through his homework, not bothering to check it. As far he knew, this was a great system, his parents didn't suspect a thing! And, since he packed a notebook in his pockets every morning, in which he jotted down all his thoughts about passing pony's clothes, he didn't have to mention clothing to his mother at all! His parents were the happiest two ponies in Equestria, their son was finally following the 'right path', or so far as they knew.

Opening the curtains to allow the slanted rays of the mid afternoon sun into the bedroom, Thunder Rain ran to his bed, under which he promptly stuck a hoof, rummaging about in the various items stored under there, until it came to rest on a certain pair of old lent saddlebags.

Excitedly pulling the worn leather bags open, the little colt started to pull out one bolt of fabric after the next and set them on the wooden floor of his bedroom. At last, after three brightly colored bolts of fabric lay on the floor, little Thunder Rain pulled out a metal locket, one of his most prized possessions.

Opening the metal case with a grin, Thunder carefully pulled out several spools of thread, in matching colors to those of the fabric and set them on the on the floor next to him. Finally, the last piece of equipment came out from the locket: a little metal needle.

Pulling out an old patchwork quiltish thing that he started the night before, the little dark gray colt sat down to spend many happy hours adding a number of colors to the messy creation, not caring at all what it looked like, just relishing in the joy of threading and stitching.

Chapter 5: Weaving Hope

"Well, I must say you did a great job with those materials I gave you, Thunder!" Rarity exclaimed, picking up the thin patchwork quilt that Thunder Rain had completed over the week. It was Saturday afternoon, a time Thunder had come to love. Later that day, he had told his parents he was going to practice flying with some of his friends, and, of course, they let him go. The truth was that Thunder merely wanted to sneak off to the Carousel Boutique and take sewing lessons with Rarity.

Arriving right after lunch, Thunder knocked on Rarity's door right as she was finishing up with a client.

"Now, go along now and tell me if there's any problem, I'd be more than happy to fix it!" Rarity called after a magenta pegasus who was walking out of her shop, a white bag clenched in her teeth. "Ah, Thunder! How have you been doing?" Rarity ushered the little dark gray colt in to her shop, closing the door with blue magic as she did so.

Thunder was overjoyed, he made it through a whole week of sewing and was just waiting to see what Rarity would make of his creation. Quickly whipping out the product of his labor he gave it to Rarity.

"How did I do?" He asked eagerly as the white unicorn looked over the patchwork quilt, "Do you like it?"

"I simply love it!" Rarity said, letting all concepts of fashion fly out of her head and judged the piece of work simply on how much practice her little student had gotten making it, "Now, today we're going to learn about batting and backing. You know how your quilt is all thin and floppy, not much good for keeping you warm?"

Thunder nodded his head excitedly, feeling an explanation coming on.

"Well, we can take a piece fabric that's a little larger than this and sew it on to the back...."

The rest of the afternoon was spent happily stitching the piece of backing onto Thunder's quilt, which, was more the size of a throw rug, all the while chatting about things general things, until the subject of parents came up.

"Your parents must be overjoyed to have such a talented young colt in their house!" Rarity said, helping Thunder with a particularly difficult corner.

Thunder flattened his ears at that remark, focusing on the needle that was bobbing up and down, in and out of the fabric like an uncertain fish. "No," he said, slightly guiltily, "They really aren't."

"Why ever not?" Rarity asked, puzzled that any set of parents could not like their child doing something as great as sewing.

"They think I should be a great flyer like them," Thunder said, a confused mixture anger and sadness brewing inside him, "But I hate flying!" Thunder broke into tears, "I just want to be sewer...like you, Rarity, but they hate it when I mention clothing and who knows what they'd do if they discovered that I sneaked off here!"

Rarity wrapped a hoof around the young colt, comforting him. "It's alright, we all have struggles to overcome in life, and sometimes it's our parents."

Thunder looked up at the white mare, thinking about what she said, "R-really?"

"Really. I mean, take me for instance, I was born into a farm family like Applejack's, I learned how to sew simple farm clothes and mend dungarees, but as much as I enjoy sewing in general, there's nothing I adore more than dressmaking.

"One morning, me and my parents were walking through town and it was on the eve of the Ponyville parade, a parade where everypony gets dressed in their finest clothes and shows them off and the winner gets a prize. Now when I saw this parade, my mouth fell open. I knew about sewing, but not about THIS kind of sewing. I loved it, and started making frilly impractical dresses, reading books on fashion and a number of things that my parents thought of as 'useless'. But, after I showed off one of my creations at the next Ponyville parade that next year, and WON my age division, they accepted me for who I was and let keep on following my heart.

"So you see, little Thunder, if you just keep doing what you love, others will come around to it," Rarity finished her story, and looked down to find a happy little colt wrapped around her legs.

"Thank you, thankyouthankyouthankyouTHANKYOU!" Thunder cried in happiness, amazed, awed and inspired by his teacher's story.

"Well, uh, you're welcome," Rarity said, somewhat awkwardly, trying to think of the right words to respond to that much gratitude. "I hear there's a competition for young mares who want to show off their sewing being held in the town hall in about three weeks time...you could join it!"

"But Rarity," Thunder said, getting up and fluffing her wings, "I'm a colt...not a mare."

"Ah," Rarity said wisely, helping her student back over to the the work table, "We don't have to tell them that, do we?"

Giggling with his mentor, Thunder Rain spent the rest of the afternoon and some of the evening, sewing backing onto his quilt and stuffing it.

That evening, a happy little dark gray colt with a bright yellow mane was flying towards home, a new quilt in clentched teeth, smiling from ear to ear.

Chapter 6: Report Cards

"Alright class, have a good summer!" Cheerily announced the end of yet another school year, handing report cards to her many students.

"You all did such a good job, here you go, be sure to show these to you're parents!" Cheerily added, handing a report card to a smug faced Diamond Tiara. Tiara's face fell upon seeing the card, but, to maintain her reputation she propped it back up again. Thunder watched in amazement as the schoolyard bully fought a losing battle with composure and emotions.

"Here you go Thunder, I hope you have a good summer too!" Cheerily said, handing a white card to the little colt. Thunder took it eagerly, looking at it in his hooves, he wished he hadn't looked at it in the first place. All his grades were C's....passing, but MUCH worse than the past year. He gulped thinking of his parents.

Trotting out of the red schoolhouse, Thunder Rain noticed Twist proudly holding her report card between her teeth. Behind those glasses was a glistening soul, and when Thunder caught notice of what was on her report card, he knew why. Twist had gotten all A's.

Cringing slightly after thinking of his own card, Thunder took to the sky.

It had been a few weeks since the glisten of hope in Rarity's shop, and the summer was upon him, and so was the Young Mare's Sewing Competition in one week's time. Thunder and Rarity had been working almost every afternoon, after Rarity closed her shop for the evening and Sweetie Belle was off playing with the rest of the Cutie Mark Crusaders, they would work on a very special project.

It was Thunder's most advanced piece of work yet, a jumpsuit. Not just any jumpsuit, but a flying jumpsuit. You see, since Thunder had started flying, he noticed something very annoying, the cold. Flying at a high speed in any altitude made him shiver, so it made sense to create something that might fix that. So even if he didn't win, at least his entry could be set to a practical use.

Thunder's jumpsuit also had a flair about it. The young colt had an impressive eye, not only for the mechanical aspects of sewing, but of fashion. Dressed on a dummy at Rarity's shop, the suit looked quite impressive. The all blue jumpsuit, covering everything except the mannequin's feet, neck and head, had orange stripes on either side, followed by a sleek appearance to show off the pony underneath. Along with the stripes, it also had apropriate orange starbursts at each of the ankles.

Thunder was very proud of his new piece of work, designing and sewing every moment he got determine to show his parents his true colors in a weeks time. For this new garment, Thunder was allowed to use Rarity's sewing machine, a lovely piece of equipment. After carefully paying attention to the instructions and warnings Rarity gave him, Thunder took the machine into his own hooves. Gliding across stitch after stitch, enjoying every minute of it, the base of the suit got done in the first two weeks!

The jumpsuit itself was made of a stretchy cotton fabric with a zipper going down the front, splitting the otherwise perfect covering in two. The zipper was what Thunder and Rarity were trying to put on now.

"Ok, just a little it more, that's, that's it..." Rarity coaxed as her student, Thunder Rain, pulled the needle carefully through the hoops of one side of the zipper. It was after the last day of school, after Thunder had dropped his report cards off at his parent's house.

"Am I doing alright?" Thunder asked through braced teeth, his voice thick and slow because of the concentration he was giving his work.

"You're doing great! Almost finished...." Rarity continued to guide her pupil. This was the only zipper she had that would match the garment, also, it was one that would not take well to being removed if put on wrong. Since the intent of the jumpsuit was to protect pegasi flying at high speeds, neither Thunder nor Rarity wanted the zipper to come off, so Rarity purchased a special zipper, one that fused with the fabric after being fastened on. So this was a one shot deal, screw it up, screw up the project.

Thunder's hooves were shaking with nerves when he pulled the last stitch through. "Yes!" He called, but then turned to his teacher, "Is it all right?"

Rarity was nodding her head, agape with what her student had created. The sleek jumpsuit lay out in front of them, the sky blue fabric glinted as it reflected the light.

"Now," Rarity said, regaining her composure, "We have to add the wing holes." The tricky thing about designing things like jumpsuits for pegasi was that wings are very different in size and shape, and the garment had to be made and worn before the holes could be marked. "But that will have to be tomorrow's subject, it's getting late and I think I hear Sweetie Belle coming back. Goodnight!"

Stuffing the stretchy blue jumpsuit into his saddlebags, Thunder trotted out the front door. After exiting the torchlight of Rarity's store, he noticed the sun was almost down. The sunset hung, beautiful in the night sky, yet threatening to go away at a moments notice. Thunder's dark coat was affected by the orange and pink lights coming from the waning sun, making him look as colorful as a painting, yet his body motions and the way he carried himself made him look as humble as a carpenter.

After a soft landing on the cloud on which his home rested, Thunder Rain walked up the front steps, his hooves making a familiar squeak as the ascended the wooden stairs. Throwing open the door, Thunder shouted to his parents.

"I'm home!" He called. But he wasn't greeted by the regular warm welcome that his parents usually gifted him with. After setting down his saddlebags with a soft thump, Thunder walked into the living room. His parents were sitting on the sofa, looking gravely at Thunder.

"Have a seat," Thunder's father instructed, "We have to talk."