The Christmas Additionby rabbitfasterChaptersThe Apple Family in: The Warmth of HomeTwilight Sparkle and Spike the Dragon in: Family TiesFluttershy in: A Brief History of PonyvilleIntroductionThe Apple Family in: The Warmth of HomeIf one were to take it upon themselves to ever wonder about that shining beacon of hope on the edges of town during these long winters nights, a long stroll through the silent apple orchards, the crunch of hooves on snow being the only echo, would show them that all is well in the Apple family homestead. A warm hearth is always burning, lovingly tended usually by the largest member of the Apple family, Big Macintosh, also tasked with trudging through the ever growing banks of snow to gather more wood to be burned. The kitchen, wood of its creation long since forever ingrained with the smell of apples, plays host to the middle sibling Applejack, toiling away at pastries and occasionally sneaking herself a bite from a fritter filled with cherries. Applebloom, the youngest of the apple siblings can usually be found in the living room reading a story to her grandmother or listening to any of several tall tales of her granny’s past christmas’ including a rather daring escape from a cabin surrounded by timberwolves in the dead of winter, of course, whilst pregnant with their father. All would be found as it should be, but still, we find reason to take a peak in through the window and perhaps, perhaps listen for a moment just to be sure. Applejack gently placed the tray of now cooling cookies onto the counter and delicately scraped each off and onto a snowflake painted plate. Applebloom was rather proud of her painting accomplishments and with but a flicker of thought Applejack wondered if perhaps her sister had finally found what she had been searching for and the fire had simply yet to ignite. A small smile graced her lips as she cleaned off the tray of any crumbs or grease and turned, dusting the floor for crumbs with her tail as she walked. As she appeared through the kitchen and into the living room the eyes of her family fell upon her. It was three weeks into what they called the snow season here on the farm and despite what others may think, after the first week of snow with no chores the Apples adjusted quite well to the easy life the years harvest provided for them. Even Big Mac ceased his attempts to find airing holes in any wall to plug up with spackle and wood shavings after three days and succumbed to the habits of sleeping in and even occasionally, thought he would never admit it, a mid day nap. The cookies found themselves delicately deposited onto the coffee table at the center of the room and for a moment it seemed the family was sitting down to dinner before Applejack rose and headed for the kitchen once again. Applebloom spoke up before her sister had taken more than a few steps “Aren’tcha going ta enjoy the cookies ya just made us sis?” Warm though it was in the home, Applebloom still wore a simple green scarf about her neck that nearly swallowed her forelegs in its fuzzy grip, making her look all the more young for it. Applejack turned to cast a glance over her family, smiling all the while, “Ah, forgot the milk. Don’t want Granny here ta choke none now AB.” Applejack, ever the one for routine still had her trusty stetson with her at all times. However, during the winter, a little known fact, Granny would insist that she not wear it on her head. So with the help of an old dress string, Applejack still wore the hat around her neck, the Stetson resting over the bend where her neck met her shoulders and back. “Applejack?” Applejack turned to answer Big Mac with a gaze and he continued, “Would ya mind grabbin’ me tha peppermint extract please?” He was similar in fashion to Applejack, having opted for a simple change in his attire. Granny Smith had allowed him to wear his yoke under a simple condition. Upon agreeing to it, Granny had knitted two very small Santa Hats to be placed on the grips of his yoke. Again, though he would be hard pressed to admit it, they made him feel more in the spirit of the holidays and he enjoyed waking up to see them resting on his ever faithful gear. “Not a’tall Mac.” Once in the kitchen Applejack rummaged around for the extract and placed it beside the cups on the counter she had procured. In a few moments the milk was over the stove in a pan to be warmed and Applejack was depositing the extract in front of Big Mac with a thin, tall vial beside it. Big Mac reached around his yoke and picked a piece of hay stalk out from behind where it had been hidden from view and gently placed it into the vial like a flower sticking out of the vase. Strange as it may have seemed, it was just one of the few small ways that he enjoyed the season while it was here. Applejack, returning with the steaming milk in mugs for each of them, placed them gently around the table and they all began with fervor. Everyone knew the apple family cookie recipe was delicious. And though Granny had indeed been snoozing not moments after Applejack had departed to the kitchen, she now grabbed a pristine specimen if ever there were one and began the lengthy process of "truly enjoying" the old recipe. Granny, never one to be called a hypocrite in any fashion, had donned a pair of plush reindeer antlers and a small santa's cap. As the other apples knew well it would be a chore to get her to ever take those off while December was still on the calender. From the vantage point of the window where our little peak has taken place into the lives of this wonderful family we clearly see that as Applebloom excuses herself for a moment she comes back from upstairs with three presents stacked behind her back and shuffles over to her family, depositing one in front of the other for each of them. As they unwrap their gifts and exchange others between each other, we tie the ribbon on this occasion and leave it to be opened again another day when we find ourselves wondering about that little haven past the edges of town, and the true gift the family there has always given us. Twilight Sparkle and Spike the Dragon in: Family TiesIn most cases it is believed that a being is either inclined to the morning hours, or finds them to be about as comfortable to awake in as a pit of snakes. In Twilight Sparkles professional opinion, having spent countless days studying whether she really was or was not a morning pony, a schedule can be adjusted and the morning can be something of a pleasure; Even when the sun has not risen yet. It was one such morning as this that Twilight Sparkle found herself staring out the window near her bed. The snow drifted to and fro, occasionally sticking to the frost that had gathered in a thin film over the glass and wood. Though Twilight was often known for bouts of semi-consciousness otherwise known as ‘being in deep thought’, this was something of a different case. In Twilights current thought process there was but one thing happening instead of the everyday birds nest of idea’s and algorithms. Outside the window she was not seeing the street the way it was now, but instead the way it was over two years ago. Two years ago, weeks before her very first Winter Wrap Up, before she had even heard about the tradition in her new home, walking beside Spike the dragon and carefully picking their way through the snow drifts and over the icy cobblestones. This is what occupied her mind, an afternoon long since past. With a sigh she turned away from her window and donned a scarf. The sounds of clattering pots, pans, and the whoosh accompanying dragons breath bid her to continue her trek down the stairs and to the threshold of the kitchen. Standing at the mouth of the beast so to speak was nerve wracking for Twilight even when no problem was immediately recognizable. Without fail she knew how to create one when one was not there, she was magic after all. Like many other times this was not just a figment of her imagination either. With a small spark and a flash all of the dishes that were currently in use froze and Spike turned around in mild confusion. With a spatula still dripping pancake batter he places his scaled fingers on his hips in consternation and speaks, “Hey, Twilight, whats up?” The spatula moving to point at the cookware still free floating in her magic. For a moment it seemed that she wouldn’t speak as Twilights jaw continued to work itself open and closed. Finally after a few passing ticks of the clock she answered in a small, quiet voice unlike that of the normally lecture prone librarian, “I thought that maybe it would be nice if we went out for breakfast. Give you a break from your chores for today and maybe enjoy the weather?” The statement came out as a question and even more timid then it had started. Spike was an early riser even among early risers and he knew Twilight like the back of his scaled hand. It goes without saying that if anyone knew Twilights tells, it was Spike the dragon. His vast knowledge of his purple housemate was put to good use as he eyed her critically while setting down the spatula. “Whats on your mind Twi?” It was even spoken as it came out of Spikes mouth, but to Twilight, who visibly recoiled, it was white hot with danger. She didn’t have her head straight yet and the last thing she needed was a meltdown before she could get her points across. ‘Whatever they are’ thought Twilight. She took a moment and swallowed her apprehension before speaking, however, as she was opening her mouth she clamped it back closed and let loose a bodily sigh. Her shoulders slumped and she slowly sank down until she was sitting, still half in, half out of the kitchen proper. For a few moments Spike imagined he could almost hear the snow falling outside of their home. As if reading Spikes mind the first word out to break the silence was from Twilight, he felt uneasy at its tone. With barely an audible voice she shattered the silence, “Home.” Spike flinched at how easily the silence had returned before moving forward a few paces, almost reaching an arm out to Twilight though he was nowhere near close enough to touch her yet. “What about our home Twilight? What’s wrong? What’s going on?” His tone panicked, and his thoughts rampaging through the darker corners of his mind, Spike had no way of reigning in the dark cloud that was forming over this pristine day. “This…. Is… Is this your home Spike?” The question had barely left her mouth when Spike found his voice, “Whats happening?! What do you mean is this my home? I’ve lived here for almost three years with you, where else would I belong Twilight?” And just like that she shuddered and Spike finally noticed the small splotches dotting the floor and ran the short distance to Twilights warmth. “What is happening, what’s wrong,” He shook her lightly, carefully like she might break, “Twilight you have to tell me!” for all his effort he felt her foreleg closer around his back and pull him closer. The embrace was tight and needy and Twilights quiet trembling threatened to well over and break, whines and the occasional long sob already breaking through as her grip tightened. “I..Spike are you home here with me? Is this where you belong?” She squeezed him tight and continued after controlling her breathing, “I…Celestia, me, we took you from whatever life you would have had. How do you know I belong here with your family out there Spike!?” As her voice raised Twilight finally broke and the wails could surely be heard from the street, Spike, nor Twilight, cared. The young dragon ran his fingers through Twilights mane, softly scratching down her back and rubbing at her spine while holding her around the neck with his other arm. In a moment of clarity he was reminded of his first holiday season in Ponyville. He had made a comment to Twilight and she had gone quiet. He had begun to wonder if he needed to contact their friends and the princess about it when Winter Wrap Up had been brought up and Twilight had launched headlong into the fray. He had thought she was fine after that, better for whatever had happened had passed. With the utmost care he moved her face to his so they could see eye to eye for a moment and held Twilight firm before speaking softly, “Twilight? Do you want to know the truth?” She looked up into his eyes and for a moment he could see a shimmer of doubt, perhaps even a faint glimmer of hope, and he knew she was listening. She nodded and Spike pulled her gently into a hug, his arms around her neck and body pressed tight to her chest. After what seemed like the blink of an eye Spike loosened his grip but did not let go, looking at Twilight and smiling. With one hand he caressed her face and gave her a small kiss on her cheek. “Twilight, you are my family. Nothing will ever change that. I will grow beside you for the rest of your life and we will always watch out for each other because that’s what family does. I would never go looking for something that I already have here, and even if I did, never in all the years I will ever live, would I ever find a family as good as the one that I have been given in you.” Twilight was happy to say that it was inconclusive. If every morning could go as this one had, she could indeed call herself a morning pony. She collected herself and she and Spike exchanged a few more comforting words between each other before embracing again and heading back for the kitchen to quickly clean up. Both now wearing scarves and Spike with a pair of small boots, made their way out the front door in time to see a rainbow streak fly fast over their heads and a team of earth ponies pulling a carriage down towards Main Street. They walked side by side sharing what warmth the morning’s events had brought them and heading in the general direction of a small coffee and sandwhich shop near the center of town. As the unlikely family strolled down the snowy streets the overhanging lights turned off for the day and a small wind blew loose snow in beautiful arcs across every surface. One errant breeze send a smattering of the powder into the cracked open door of the library where most of it was quickly neutralized by the floors anti moisture spell. A few flakes, however, found themselves still aloft and floating towards the only book still open in the libraries den. On the open pages was several pictures painstakingly places, decorated, and forever enshrined with more meaning than most would ever know. One picture showed five friends posed together, another showed a very luckily timed picture of two princess, four pieces of cake, Pinkie Pie, and a very, very unfortunate royal guard. On the other page, a piece of Spike’s shell was pressed flat and forever preserved beside the last picture on the page, A photograph taken by Celestia of the first evening Spike had stayed with Twilight in her castle apartments. Curled up on her forelegs, Twilights head resting between his flexible back spines. This book will eventually close, and it is on this thought that similarly this little peek into the lives of our friends must also. Fluttershy in: A Brief History of PonyvilleFluttershy’s Cottage had always been a haven for animals. Even before it was built the land where her home now occupies had a rich history. At the oldest time remembered it used to be a hovel, a hollowed out hill near the edge of town that housed a very strange amalgamation of creatures, from voles to robins, from lizards to wolves and their cubs. It was almost as if this place had a destiny, that it was fated to be a shelter for all animals that would broach its hallowed walls. It was by no small amount of luck that many years before the Everfree ever was tainted or the Princess’ separated, that three rather large oaks stood as silent sentinels over the entrance to that section of forest. Again, by no small amount of fated ‘happenstance’ a family of travelers happen to come across these tree’s while exiting the forest after a long journey from the original capital city of Canterlot. Upon exiting the forest, the father saw the wonderful shelter that the oaks provided and decided to have his family stay for the night under their mighty canopy. What the father didn’t know, or account for, was that this area had not been monitored by weather ponies from the capital. And the construction of a new cloud city had taken most of the pegasi from across the new nation regardless. In effect, this had left several storms to rage and one such particular one spread slowly over the unsuspecting family and the majority of the giant valley before them by nightfall. With the moons rising came blistering cold winds and as the snow fell, the banks seemed to rise out of nowhere, taking from them the warmth of the earth. Surely had the youngest son not stumbled , fallen, and broken through a dirt wall into the hovel they might just have frozen. Fortunately the scream of their youngest sent the family into the hole after him. They soon stood in the midst of several hundred species of local animal and not a hair moved in those first moments. After several moments of silence the youngest sneezed, shivered, and began to whimper. One of the large wolves off to the side, hearing the whimpering cries of a child and thinking of her young, stepped forward slowly to nuzzle at the childs back. After the initial shock the child playfully grabbed at the wolves hair and cuddled into its chest as it sat down. It took mere moments for other animals to approach. The birds swarmed over the hole in the ceiling and it slowly shrank from their combined nest building tactics. The three bears that had been sleeping relinquished a small opening between them where the family could rest together. Still chattering in their teeth and scared mostly witless the family took what they could and rested with the animals. It was an experience that even at such an age the youngest, a small colt, would never forget. Several decades later a colt returned to that hovel and found several of the animals he had seen before. The young child had grown, but he had not forgotten the unbiased kindness he had been shown in his families most desperate moment. He spoke with the animals, not knowing if they would understand but filling his heart with hope. To his great happiness they seemed to know what he was doing when he began cutting down the giant oak tree’s and plowing the area around the hill, readying it for a foundation. The bears came and helped to move logs, the birds cleared brush, the foxes dusted and packed earth. It was as if the forest knew itself that this project held some importance. The colt had known ever since the night his family had been saved. For every night since he had dreamed of this place had dreamed the home he was building and knew. This was something he was fated to do. It took nary on a year for the work of the earth to be done and for him to begin building the cottage that had been the focus of his dreams. Three days after the cottage had been completed he began work on fake trees inside the home, dens made into exterior rooms he had built onto the original walls, and other such shelters. For he had always known that someday he would return the favor the animals had done for him and his own. It took almost another three months for all the additions to be complete as best as his mind could show him each night. Though he rarely admitted it, there was always a part of the cottage missing that he could never figure out. A few weeks after the colt had passed his 26th birthday and 5th year in his new home he heard a commotion coming from just outside his home and rushed into the backyard when his pet wolf began to growl. What he found amongst the snow and wreckage of one of his fences was a cream colored Pegasus mare with what looked to be a broken wing struggling to break away from his broken fence. It took the colt a only a moment to realize the fence was moving and another for him to make the connection that the scattered timber and sap was not the wreckage of a fence, but the body of a fabled timber wolf. Thanks to quick thinking on his part the wolf was chased away with a torch and the mare carefully brought inside by a bear that had been hibernating nearby and awoken from the noises. Wide-eyed the whole time a bear carried her, the pegasus mare squeaked out and nearly fainted when finally set onto the couch within the cozy cottage. The next morning she awoke to a warm compress and bandaged wing, tea and buttered biscuits with greens to spread. After munching on the food left and hearing a steady thudding from outside the young mare followed the sound and eventually wound up in the back area of the cottage watching a rather handsome colt chop wood and talk to himself. She blushed rather hotly when he spoke out-loud about her saying “Okay Forest, its no big deal. You saved a beautiful mares life last night, *chop* said gorgeous mare is sleeping on your couch right now, *chop* you actually cooked for her *chop* you are getting worked *chop* up over *chop* this and it's not good for *chop* you.” Forest Rain, the youngest of his family, continued to talk to himself until his arms felt weak from chopping and he finally sat down. It was then that he turned at the squeaking noise he finally heard and saw the mare sitting with wide eyes and stiff wings, a blush burning across her face. She winced at her wings stiffness and he forgot himself as he rushed over. “Are you alright?” He heard her voice for the first time and his pupils dilated, “T-thank you. I-I feel fine. I’m just cold…c-could…could you please make me more soup? I’m lost….” Her name was Lilac Winds and she was the most beautiful mare Forest had ever seen. In that moment, and every moment there after. After time they grew close and Forest learned she had been scavenging for herbs in the forest when she had come across timber wolves of all things. She lived in a very small village of farmers in the valley near the forest and had come rushing back but lost her way. The wolf had followed and caught up with her quickly, injuring her wing before she crashed through his fence and he had saved her life. The months went by as they grew closer, Forest often taking trips into the town to deliver sleds of wood accompanied by wolves and foxes carrying gifts of furniture or quilts made for the farming community. No one ever saw him take more than three steps into town without Lilac Winds by his side. It’s even said that one winter he helped save an apple farmer’s wife and family from freezing by donating wood and helping to rebuild their damaged farmhouse. All with Lilac by his side. Years later, the small village that had steadily grown, let go of one of their own as Forest Rain and Lilac Winds were married, and moved into the cottage where they had met as their marital home. Of course never a week went by when they were not in town tending to the farmers animals or the villagers pets. It seemed that Lilac had quite the affinity for animals and ended up receiving a rabbit as a birthday gift from a litter she had helped to birth. Yes, Forest with his wolf and Lilac with her rabbit made quite the sight everywhere they went but it was always for certain that they loved each other. After long years in the cottage they began to spend more time in the village and even built a house there should they ever decide to stay, and, as most do in time when they are in love, they bore a child and moved into the village to be closer to the community that would help raise their beloved pegasus daughter. Her name was Fluttershy. And after she was born, her father, Forest Rain, dreamt every night of great things his daughter would do. Of the life his family would make together. It is on this very night, as the snow falls slowly down over Ponyville that Fluttershy closes the book that tells of her families history and pulls Angel closer for a moment to tell him she loves him. The rabbit, feeling particularly nostalgic after hearing about his own mother being with Lilac, gripped Fluttershy lovingly and motioned for the door. Stretching Fluttershy understood and nodded. “I think that’s a great idea Angel bunny. Lets keep with my families tradition and go visit our friends. Maybe they could use a quilt.” She smiled, wrapped Angel partially in the scarf around her neck so he sat between her shoulder blades and trotted out the front door, following the same hoovesteps her parents had with the trail that lead to Ponyville. As the snow fell silently around Fluttershy and Angel bunny, the crisp crunch of her hoovesteps being the only sound, the lights of Ponyville slowly danced into view. IntroductionEquestria has been known as a place of well-wishing, care-giving, and generally kind hearted folk. In our fortunate times in this recent era, we have come to know many inspiring and truly unforgettable characters. It can always be said that each of us have inside us the capacity to do things with kindness in our hearts, to go forward and do good. I don’t believe any would argue that during the latter part of every year, when the snow curls lazily to the ground, and fillies and colts play out in the snow, we all come just a ..little closer. It could be that our anticipation of the faces of friends and family when they receive our gifts gives us good will towards them, or the receiving of such kind tiding ourselves. Others would say that it’s simply in our blood, or a time-honored tradition that small communities join and care for one another during these beautiful yet deceptively harsh times. It is with these ideas in mind that we focus on a community that we all know and find it hard not to love. Ponyville is one of many, but in our hearts it is the stage. It is with a sense of great honor that I set this stage, these stories, these glimpses into the lives of our beloved friends, with these few simple words…. It was a chilling winters eve in Ponyville….
The Apple Family in: The Warmth of HomeIf one were to take it upon themselves to ever wonder about that shining beacon of hope on the edges of town during these long winters nights, a long stroll through the silent apple orchards, the crunch of hooves on snow being the only echo, would show them that all is well in the Apple family homestead. A warm hearth is always burning, lovingly tended usually by the largest member of the Apple family, Big Macintosh, also tasked with trudging through the ever growing banks of snow to gather more wood to be burned. The kitchen, wood of its creation long since forever ingrained with the smell of apples, plays host to the middle sibling Applejack, toiling away at pastries and occasionally sneaking herself a bite from a fritter filled with cherries. Applebloom, the youngest of the apple siblings can usually be found in the living room reading a story to her grandmother or listening to any of several tall tales of her granny’s past christmas’ including a rather daring escape from a cabin surrounded by timberwolves in the dead of winter, of course, whilst pregnant with their father. All would be found as it should be, but still, we find reason to take a peak in through the window and perhaps, perhaps listen for a moment just to be sure. Applejack gently placed the tray of now cooling cookies onto the counter and delicately scraped each off and onto a snowflake painted plate. Applebloom was rather proud of her painting accomplishments and with but a flicker of thought Applejack wondered if perhaps her sister had finally found what she had been searching for and the fire had simply yet to ignite. A small smile graced her lips as she cleaned off the tray of any crumbs or grease and turned, dusting the floor for crumbs with her tail as she walked. As she appeared through the kitchen and into the living room the eyes of her family fell upon her. It was three weeks into what they called the snow season here on the farm and despite what others may think, after the first week of snow with no chores the Apples adjusted quite well to the easy life the years harvest provided for them. Even Big Mac ceased his attempts to find airing holes in any wall to plug up with spackle and wood shavings after three days and succumbed to the habits of sleeping in and even occasionally, thought he would never admit it, a mid day nap. The cookies found themselves delicately deposited onto the coffee table at the center of the room and for a moment it seemed the family was sitting down to dinner before Applejack rose and headed for the kitchen once again. Applebloom spoke up before her sister had taken more than a few steps “Aren’tcha going ta enjoy the cookies ya just made us sis?” Warm though it was in the home, Applebloom still wore a simple green scarf about her neck that nearly swallowed her forelegs in its fuzzy grip, making her look all the more young for it. Applejack turned to cast a glance over her family, smiling all the while, “Ah, forgot the milk. Don’t want Granny here ta choke none now AB.” Applejack, ever the one for routine still had her trusty stetson with her at all times. However, during the winter, a little known fact, Granny would insist that she not wear it on her head. So with the help of an old dress string, Applejack still wore the hat around her neck, the Stetson resting over the bend where her neck met her shoulders and back. “Applejack?” Applejack turned to answer Big Mac with a gaze and he continued, “Would ya mind grabbin’ me tha peppermint extract please?” He was similar in fashion to Applejack, having opted for a simple change in his attire. Granny Smith had allowed him to wear his yoke under a simple condition. Upon agreeing to it, Granny had knitted two very small Santa Hats to be placed on the grips of his yoke. Again, though he would be hard pressed to admit it, they made him feel more in the spirit of the holidays and he enjoyed waking up to see them resting on his ever faithful gear. “Not a’tall Mac.” Once in the kitchen Applejack rummaged around for the extract and placed it beside the cups on the counter she had procured. In a few moments the milk was over the stove in a pan to be warmed and Applejack was depositing the extract in front of Big Mac with a thin, tall vial beside it. Big Mac reached around his yoke and picked a piece of hay stalk out from behind where it had been hidden from view and gently placed it into the vial like a flower sticking out of the vase. Strange as it may have seemed, it was just one of the few small ways that he enjoyed the season while it was here. Applejack, returning with the steaming milk in mugs for each of them, placed them gently around the table and they all began with fervor. Everyone knew the apple family cookie recipe was delicious. And though Granny had indeed been snoozing not moments after Applejack had departed to the kitchen, she now grabbed a pristine specimen if ever there were one and began the lengthy process of "truly enjoying" the old recipe. Granny, never one to be called a hypocrite in any fashion, had donned a pair of plush reindeer antlers and a small santa's cap. As the other apples knew well it would be a chore to get her to ever take those off while December was still on the calender. From the vantage point of the window where our little peak has taken place into the lives of this wonderful family we clearly see that as Applebloom excuses herself for a moment she comes back from upstairs with three presents stacked behind her back and shuffles over to her family, depositing one in front of the other for each of them. As they unwrap their gifts and exchange others between each other, we tie the ribbon on this occasion and leave it to be opened again another day when we find ourselves wondering about that little haven past the edges of town, and the true gift the family there has always given us.
Twilight Sparkle and Spike the Dragon in: Family TiesIn most cases it is believed that a being is either inclined to the morning hours, or finds them to be about as comfortable to awake in as a pit of snakes. In Twilight Sparkles professional opinion, having spent countless days studying whether she really was or was not a morning pony, a schedule can be adjusted and the morning can be something of a pleasure; Even when the sun has not risen yet. It was one such morning as this that Twilight Sparkle found herself staring out the window near her bed. The snow drifted to and fro, occasionally sticking to the frost that had gathered in a thin film over the glass and wood. Though Twilight was often known for bouts of semi-consciousness otherwise known as ‘being in deep thought’, this was something of a different case. In Twilights current thought process there was but one thing happening instead of the everyday birds nest of idea’s and algorithms. Outside the window she was not seeing the street the way it was now, but instead the way it was over two years ago. Two years ago, weeks before her very first Winter Wrap Up, before she had even heard about the tradition in her new home, walking beside Spike the dragon and carefully picking their way through the snow drifts and over the icy cobblestones. This is what occupied her mind, an afternoon long since past. With a sigh she turned away from her window and donned a scarf. The sounds of clattering pots, pans, and the whoosh accompanying dragons breath bid her to continue her trek down the stairs and to the threshold of the kitchen. Standing at the mouth of the beast so to speak was nerve wracking for Twilight even when no problem was immediately recognizable. Without fail she knew how to create one when one was not there, she was magic after all. Like many other times this was not just a figment of her imagination either. With a small spark and a flash all of the dishes that were currently in use froze and Spike turned around in mild confusion. With a spatula still dripping pancake batter he places his scaled fingers on his hips in consternation and speaks, “Hey, Twilight, whats up?” The spatula moving to point at the cookware still free floating in her magic. For a moment it seemed that she wouldn’t speak as Twilights jaw continued to work itself open and closed. Finally after a few passing ticks of the clock she answered in a small, quiet voice unlike that of the normally lecture prone librarian, “I thought that maybe it would be nice if we went out for breakfast. Give you a break from your chores for today and maybe enjoy the weather?” The statement came out as a question and even more timid then it had started. Spike was an early riser even among early risers and he knew Twilight like the back of his scaled hand. It goes without saying that if anyone knew Twilights tells, it was Spike the dragon. His vast knowledge of his purple housemate was put to good use as he eyed her critically while setting down the spatula. “Whats on your mind Twi?” It was even spoken as it came out of Spikes mouth, but to Twilight, who visibly recoiled, it was white hot with danger. She didn’t have her head straight yet and the last thing she needed was a meltdown before she could get her points across. ‘Whatever they are’ thought Twilight. She took a moment and swallowed her apprehension before speaking, however, as she was opening her mouth she clamped it back closed and let loose a bodily sigh. Her shoulders slumped and she slowly sank down until she was sitting, still half in, half out of the kitchen proper. For a few moments Spike imagined he could almost hear the snow falling outside of their home. As if reading Spikes mind the first word out to break the silence was from Twilight, he felt uneasy at its tone. With barely an audible voice she shattered the silence, “Home.” Spike flinched at how easily the silence had returned before moving forward a few paces, almost reaching an arm out to Twilight though he was nowhere near close enough to touch her yet. “What about our home Twilight? What’s wrong? What’s going on?” His tone panicked, and his thoughts rampaging through the darker corners of his mind, Spike had no way of reigning in the dark cloud that was forming over this pristine day. “This…. Is… Is this your home Spike?” The question had barely left her mouth when Spike found his voice, “Whats happening?! What do you mean is this my home? I’ve lived here for almost three years with you, where else would I belong Twilight?” And just like that she shuddered and Spike finally noticed the small splotches dotting the floor and ran the short distance to Twilights warmth. “What is happening, what’s wrong,” He shook her lightly, carefully like she might break, “Twilight you have to tell me!” for all his effort he felt her foreleg closer around his back and pull him closer. The embrace was tight and needy and Twilights quiet trembling threatened to well over and break, whines and the occasional long sob already breaking through as her grip tightened. “I..Spike are you home here with me? Is this where you belong?” She squeezed him tight and continued after controlling her breathing, “I…Celestia, me, we took you from whatever life you would have had. How do you know I belong here with your family out there Spike!?” As her voice raised Twilight finally broke and the wails could surely be heard from the street, Spike, nor Twilight, cared. The young dragon ran his fingers through Twilights mane, softly scratching down her back and rubbing at her spine while holding her around the neck with his other arm. In a moment of clarity he was reminded of his first holiday season in Ponyville. He had made a comment to Twilight and she had gone quiet. He had begun to wonder if he needed to contact their friends and the princess about it when Winter Wrap Up had been brought up and Twilight had launched headlong into the fray. He had thought she was fine after that, better for whatever had happened had passed. With the utmost care he moved her face to his so they could see eye to eye for a moment and held Twilight firm before speaking softly, “Twilight? Do you want to know the truth?” She looked up into his eyes and for a moment he could see a shimmer of doubt, perhaps even a faint glimmer of hope, and he knew she was listening. She nodded and Spike pulled her gently into a hug, his arms around her neck and body pressed tight to her chest. After what seemed like the blink of an eye Spike loosened his grip but did not let go, looking at Twilight and smiling. With one hand he caressed her face and gave her a small kiss on her cheek. “Twilight, you are my family. Nothing will ever change that. I will grow beside you for the rest of your life and we will always watch out for each other because that’s what family does. I would never go looking for something that I already have here, and even if I did, never in all the years I will ever live, would I ever find a family as good as the one that I have been given in you.” Twilight was happy to say that it was inconclusive. If every morning could go as this one had, she could indeed call herself a morning pony. She collected herself and she and Spike exchanged a few more comforting words between each other before embracing again and heading back for the kitchen to quickly clean up. Both now wearing scarves and Spike with a pair of small boots, made their way out the front door in time to see a rainbow streak fly fast over their heads and a team of earth ponies pulling a carriage down towards Main Street. They walked side by side sharing what warmth the morning’s events had brought them and heading in the general direction of a small coffee and sandwhich shop near the center of town. As the unlikely family strolled down the snowy streets the overhanging lights turned off for the day and a small wind blew loose snow in beautiful arcs across every surface. One errant breeze send a smattering of the powder into the cracked open door of the library where most of it was quickly neutralized by the floors anti moisture spell. A few flakes, however, found themselves still aloft and floating towards the only book still open in the libraries den. On the open pages was several pictures painstakingly places, decorated, and forever enshrined with more meaning than most would ever know. One picture showed five friends posed together, another showed a very luckily timed picture of two princess, four pieces of cake, Pinkie Pie, and a very, very unfortunate royal guard. On the other page, a piece of Spike’s shell was pressed flat and forever preserved beside the last picture on the page, A photograph taken by Celestia of the first evening Spike had stayed with Twilight in her castle apartments. Curled up on her forelegs, Twilights head resting between his flexible back spines. This book will eventually close, and it is on this thought that similarly this little peek into the lives of our friends must also.
Fluttershy in: A Brief History of PonyvilleFluttershy’s Cottage had always been a haven for animals. Even before it was built the land where her home now occupies had a rich history. At the oldest time remembered it used to be a hovel, a hollowed out hill near the edge of town that housed a very strange amalgamation of creatures, from voles to robins, from lizards to wolves and their cubs. It was almost as if this place had a destiny, that it was fated to be a shelter for all animals that would broach its hallowed walls. It was by no small amount of luck that many years before the Everfree ever was tainted or the Princess’ separated, that three rather large oaks stood as silent sentinels over the entrance to that section of forest. Again, by no small amount of fated ‘happenstance’ a family of travelers happen to come across these tree’s while exiting the forest after a long journey from the original capital city of Canterlot. Upon exiting the forest, the father saw the wonderful shelter that the oaks provided and decided to have his family stay for the night under their mighty canopy. What the father didn’t know, or account for, was that this area had not been monitored by weather ponies from the capital. And the construction of a new cloud city had taken most of the pegasi from across the new nation regardless. In effect, this had left several storms to rage and one such particular one spread slowly over the unsuspecting family and the majority of the giant valley before them by nightfall. With the moons rising came blistering cold winds and as the snow fell, the banks seemed to rise out of nowhere, taking from them the warmth of the earth. Surely had the youngest son not stumbled , fallen, and broken through a dirt wall into the hovel they might just have frozen. Fortunately the scream of their youngest sent the family into the hole after him. They soon stood in the midst of several hundred species of local animal and not a hair moved in those first moments. After several moments of silence the youngest sneezed, shivered, and began to whimper. One of the large wolves off to the side, hearing the whimpering cries of a child and thinking of her young, stepped forward slowly to nuzzle at the childs back. After the initial shock the child playfully grabbed at the wolves hair and cuddled into its chest as it sat down. It took mere moments for other animals to approach. The birds swarmed over the hole in the ceiling and it slowly shrank from their combined nest building tactics. The three bears that had been sleeping relinquished a small opening between them where the family could rest together. Still chattering in their teeth and scared mostly witless the family took what they could and rested with the animals. It was an experience that even at such an age the youngest, a small colt, would never forget. Several decades later a colt returned to that hovel and found several of the animals he had seen before. The young child had grown, but he had not forgotten the unbiased kindness he had been shown in his families most desperate moment. He spoke with the animals, not knowing if they would understand but filling his heart with hope. To his great happiness they seemed to know what he was doing when he began cutting down the giant oak tree’s and plowing the area around the hill, readying it for a foundation. The bears came and helped to move logs, the birds cleared brush, the foxes dusted and packed earth. It was as if the forest knew itself that this project held some importance. The colt had known ever since the night his family had been saved. For every night since he had dreamed of this place had dreamed the home he was building and knew. This was something he was fated to do. It took nary on a year for the work of the earth to be done and for him to begin building the cottage that had been the focus of his dreams. Three days after the cottage had been completed he began work on fake trees inside the home, dens made into exterior rooms he had built onto the original walls, and other such shelters. For he had always known that someday he would return the favor the animals had done for him and his own. It took almost another three months for all the additions to be complete as best as his mind could show him each night. Though he rarely admitted it, there was always a part of the cottage missing that he could never figure out. A few weeks after the colt had passed his 26th birthday and 5th year in his new home he heard a commotion coming from just outside his home and rushed into the backyard when his pet wolf began to growl. What he found amongst the snow and wreckage of one of his fences was a cream colored Pegasus mare with what looked to be a broken wing struggling to break away from his broken fence. It took the colt a only a moment to realize the fence was moving and another for him to make the connection that the scattered timber and sap was not the wreckage of a fence, but the body of a fabled timber wolf. Thanks to quick thinking on his part the wolf was chased away with a torch and the mare carefully brought inside by a bear that had been hibernating nearby and awoken from the noises. Wide-eyed the whole time a bear carried her, the pegasus mare squeaked out and nearly fainted when finally set onto the couch within the cozy cottage. The next morning she awoke to a warm compress and bandaged wing, tea and buttered biscuits with greens to spread. After munching on the food left and hearing a steady thudding from outside the young mare followed the sound and eventually wound up in the back area of the cottage watching a rather handsome colt chop wood and talk to himself. She blushed rather hotly when he spoke out-loud about her saying “Okay Forest, its no big deal. You saved a beautiful mares life last night, *chop* said gorgeous mare is sleeping on your couch right now, *chop* you actually cooked for her *chop* you are getting worked *chop* up over *chop* this and it's not good for *chop* you.” Forest Rain, the youngest of his family, continued to talk to himself until his arms felt weak from chopping and he finally sat down. It was then that he turned at the squeaking noise he finally heard and saw the mare sitting with wide eyes and stiff wings, a blush burning across her face. She winced at her wings stiffness and he forgot himself as he rushed over. “Are you alright?” He heard her voice for the first time and his pupils dilated, “T-thank you. I-I feel fine. I’m just cold…c-could…could you please make me more soup? I’m lost….” Her name was Lilac Winds and she was the most beautiful mare Forest had ever seen. In that moment, and every moment there after. After time they grew close and Forest learned she had been scavenging for herbs in the forest when she had come across timber wolves of all things. She lived in a very small village of farmers in the valley near the forest and had come rushing back but lost her way. The wolf had followed and caught up with her quickly, injuring her wing before she crashed through his fence and he had saved her life. The months went by as they grew closer, Forest often taking trips into the town to deliver sleds of wood accompanied by wolves and foxes carrying gifts of furniture or quilts made for the farming community. No one ever saw him take more than three steps into town without Lilac Winds by his side. It’s even said that one winter he helped save an apple farmer’s wife and family from freezing by donating wood and helping to rebuild their damaged farmhouse. All with Lilac by his side. Years later, the small village that had steadily grown, let go of one of their own as Forest Rain and Lilac Winds were married, and moved into the cottage where they had met as their marital home. Of course never a week went by when they were not in town tending to the farmers animals or the villagers pets. It seemed that Lilac had quite the affinity for animals and ended up receiving a rabbit as a birthday gift from a litter she had helped to birth. Yes, Forest with his wolf and Lilac with her rabbit made quite the sight everywhere they went but it was always for certain that they loved each other. After long years in the cottage they began to spend more time in the village and even built a house there should they ever decide to stay, and, as most do in time when they are in love, they bore a child and moved into the village to be closer to the community that would help raise their beloved pegasus daughter. Her name was Fluttershy. And after she was born, her father, Forest Rain, dreamt every night of great things his daughter would do. Of the life his family would make together. It is on this very night, as the snow falls slowly down over Ponyville that Fluttershy closes the book that tells of her families history and pulls Angel closer for a moment to tell him she loves him. The rabbit, feeling particularly nostalgic after hearing about his own mother being with Lilac, gripped Fluttershy lovingly and motioned for the door. Stretching Fluttershy understood and nodded. “I think that’s a great idea Angel bunny. Lets keep with my families tradition and go visit our friends. Maybe they could use a quilt.” She smiled, wrapped Angel partially in the scarf around her neck so he sat between her shoulder blades and trotted out the front door, following the same hoovesteps her parents had with the trail that lead to Ponyville. As the snow fell silently around Fluttershy and Angel bunny, the crisp crunch of her hoovesteps being the only sound, the lights of Ponyville slowly danced into view.
IntroductionEquestria has been known as a place of well-wishing, care-giving, and generally kind hearted folk. In our fortunate times in this recent era, we have come to know many inspiring and truly unforgettable characters. It can always be said that each of us have inside us the capacity to do things with kindness in our hearts, to go forward and do good. I don’t believe any would argue that during the latter part of every year, when the snow curls lazily to the ground, and fillies and colts play out in the snow, we all come just a ..little closer. It could be that our anticipation of the faces of friends and family when they receive our gifts gives us good will towards them, or the receiving of such kind tiding ourselves. Others would say that it’s simply in our blood, or a time-honored tradition that small communities join and care for one another during these beautiful yet deceptively harsh times. It is with these ideas in mind that we focus on a community that we all know and find it hard not to love. Ponyville is one of many, but in our hearts it is the stage. It is with a sense of great honor that I set this stage, these stories, these glimpses into the lives of our beloved friends, with these few simple words…. It was a chilling winters eve in Ponyville….
