So dreary there, a dream unkept;
little dancing virtues, sweeping all about.
Absalom, King, then died;
and all the world’s-a-bloom!

Ah didn’t have much time ta think bout it. Winter turned round right quick, there was a few left on the tree when ah ran towards it, fast as ah could. The last of our apples fell into the last of our barrels. Sista neva grinned bigger. Ah was a little late to it. but ah finally got my mark. Was the first time ah had a full glass a cider.

First up over them ridges; you and scoots need to stay outa trouble. Lest the mastas need to find that you’s lost in the woods; snow’s flyin don’t need to be out there this late. If y’all need to run round in the snow, keep at least to the mastas’ property—that ridge is park land, even if no one is usin it.

Keepin up with them slaves ain’t what it’s worth, how much did you piss away on that old one so you could buy the young ones—

Usefulness is usefulness; dirt ponies are better suited to work when they are happy. Lord knows that happiness correlates with bucking—causality or not—I, for one, am not going to risk it.

So it ain’t the depths of your heart that propels you to take in such expenses—

For the sake of—love is generated in the mind.

~*~

I hope I didn’t hurt anyone, oh my heavens no, oh but I want her so much. She said, after all, that the professor won’t mind—rather, she is, in fact, quite open to these sorts of things. Shouldn’t be an issue a’tall.

The day had been spent procrastinating, the best kind of day. It’s an excited nervousness; can’t do too much with that feelin in your belly.
"Mistress Dash?"
"What Miss Milly?"
"Miss Rarity’s here to see you."
Without much thought I leapt up outa my sunbed.
"Gracious me, Rainbow," she said as I made my way into the foyer, she was sitting sprawled out on the chaise by the window.
"Miss Belle"
I bowed, and kissed her extended hoof.
"Oh my, what a gentlemare."

Forward my legionaries!
Dance little virtues.
Cast your dreams in flesh.
Is it not that the soul is the body,
or that the soul is flesh.
One’s dreams are not of the soul;
it is pure.
Dreams are for the self, the partner.
Her curves are voluptuous,
her sent, arousing.
She swoons—
Avast!
For now is the pulse, the flash, the spark.
The rich jellies and red blood—soft flesh,
hold me now.
I can feel her heart and mine, pounding, off beat.

Tend to the cookin, nothin here te see.

~*~

Scootaloo and Applebloom galloped up the hill, Sweetie Belle not too far behind, but winded.

"It's just right up this way!" Applebloom exclaimed.

The three stopped in front of an old grey stone wall. Towing in front of them, a great stone façade, an arched doorway mimicked by smaller arches, glass long gone. Moss, ivies, vines, and saplings clung to the wall.

The three, wordless, walked under the great arch; inside of the stone courtyard mature birch trees had taken up residence. Opposite them, another arch led to another courtyard—holding up a roof that was no longer there. The afternoon sun shone down through the trees.

It was a quiet place.

"What is this?"
"It’s an old winery."
"How’d you find it?"
"Jackie said somethin bout it to Mac."
"What was she doin up here—I thought she said you couldn’t leave your mastas’ land."
"She didn’t say."
"Wait," Scootaloo injected, "you can’t leave the plantation?"
"They don’t care bout it too much, not like ah’m not gonna come back. Mistress Dash might give me a lickin—an certainly not a hard one, a couple a swats. The Professor, she’d just roll her eyes. Sides, ah done all ma chores today."
"Why’d you wanna bring us up here?" Scoots asked.
"Cause… look at it, perfect place to hang out, not to far a walk, but seems to be in the middle a nowhere. Think of all the trouble we could get ourselves into," Applebloom grinned.
"So like our own space, our little hideout," – Sweetbelle mused.
"We just gotta keep a look out... but mah sista was talkin like she ain't gonna come up here no more, or too ofen."
"Ah like it."
"But we gotta keep it secret, so agreed then?"
"Agreed!"

~*~

I always liked my office, plenty enough room for my books. Mahogany and red stained oak walls, the whole place has an aura… like red wine. I was sipping some and reading for a while. It was a cloudy afternoon, late in the fall semester. Out my window, the elegance of the gentry abounds, with redbrick buildings and—

There is a knock on my door.

"Um… oh… Professor are you in?"
"Yes; the door is open."

Dr. Fluttershy, one of our new lecturers; she isn’t new to this, of course, she had taught for a while at the Oberlin College. She was one of the first pegasi to take us up on our offer. I’ll be damned if this school isn’t trying to look backwards.

"Um… Professor… Some of my students… mostly pegasi, have been talking to me about how some of the other faculty… what’s the word… doesn’t show them due respect."
"Yea… you aren’t the first one to come to me with this. Wine?"
"Of course."
I levitated the decanter and glass over to her; she poured herself a glass.
"Many tenured faculty in this school are… a tad racist."
"Yea… well... that’s why I’m here," she perked up. "We need ponies to start to work together. We need to keep pushing for full equality!"

I gulped some.

"Indeed. Well, I will try to do what I can to help curb it… I’ll do some chewing out over the next few weeks."
"Oh, perfect, just don’t be too harsh now."
"I won’t"
I winked. She smiled and finished the rest of her wine. She curtsied and hovered out of my office.

I think I bit off more than I can chew.

Author's Note

And the game begins. Critiques welcome.