A tan blur rocketed across the marketplace, creating a breeze in its wake strong enough to blow loose objects from the unprotected stalls. It stopped for only an instant here and there, before changing direction and darting off again at staggering speeds. The pony vendors and shoppers didn’t flinch or even so much as blink, even when the projectile came within inches of them. It always changed direction at the last moment, continuing to and fro in an excited tizzy.
Featherweight sat nearby, as unimpressed as most of the salesponies. One new stall owner, who had been uncomfortably eyeing the object hurtling through the air, leaned over to him nervously.
“Hey kid, er… what is that exactly?” he asked nervously. “Should we be concerned?”
Featherweight smiled. “Nothing to worry about. That’s just Zippoorwhill.”
Finally, the projectile came to a sudden halt, and what had been nothing but a blur a moment before was now a tiny tan pegasus filly with a straight brown mane and a paw print cutie mark, wearing a silver tiara and a pair of laughably large black-rimmed glasses. She hovered in midair in front of one of the stalls, peering at the selection of fresh vegetables intently. Then, in one swift combined motion, she snatched up a bundle of asparagus with one hoof and deposited a pair of bits on the counter with the other. Then she was gone in another blur, shooting toward the other end of the market.
In another second, she was hovering directly over Featherweight. The colt winced as she perched on his back. Small though she was, his wiry frame made it difficult to support her.
“Zippi, get off,” he wheezed, all four legs shaking as he struggled to stay standing.
“I’m done shopping!” Zippoorwhill announced in her slight Marexican accent, ignoring Featherweight’s protests completely as she adjusted her position on his back. “Thanks for coming along, Featherweight.”
“No sweat,” choked Featherweight, who was sweating quite a bit at that particular moment. “Now Zippi, can you please get—”
“Ooh, I just had the best idea!” Zippoorwhill cried, leaping back into the air barely an instant before Featherweight would have collapsed. “Let’s go back to my house! Papa bought some of that soda pop I like. Let’s go drink it until we’re too sick to fly straight!”
Featherweight failed to see what about Zippoorwhill’s suggestion was supposed to be the ‘best idea’, but as usual, she was already darting off before he even had a chance to open his mouth to argue. The colt rolled his eyes and chuckled as he took to the air and followed her, noticing the stall owner’s sigh of relief as they left.
A casual onlooker might have wondered why a calm, modest colt like Featherweight put up with the little flitting ball of energy that was Zippoorwhill, but in truth, he didn’t mind her as much as he sometimes pretended. The filly had moved into town with her father about a year prior, and had met him (well, crashed into him, more accurately) at recess on her very first day in Miss Cheerilee’s class.
Unfortunately for poor Zippoorwhill, her hyperactivity and short attention span had a tendency to make the other foals stay clear of her. Even the outgoing Cutie Mark Crusaders gave her some space, although that might have been because she already had her cutie mark.
Featherweight may have seemed like the last pony that would give Zippoorwhill a chance, if not for a positive quality that most foals his age lacked: a tremendous amount of patience. Open to everypony and difficult to perturb, he accepted the new filly’s request for friendship, and though he couldn’t deny that “annoying” was sometimes an accurate way to describe her actions, if one waited long enough, the charming and intelligent filly beneath would often shine through.
Besides, Featherweight himself wasn’t exactly one of the more popular colts in school. He was grateful for the extra company.
Zippoorwhill, as usual, hadn’t waited for her slower-moving friend to catch up. She’d already vanished inside the house by the time Featherweight arrived. Before he could knock on the front door, the filly’s bedroom window opened and she poked her head out, grinning at him.
“There you are, slowpoke! Come on, just come in through the window. It’s quicker.”
Featherweight didn’t bother arguing. Zippoorwhill had a habit of entering buildings via windows anyway, and often dragging him along as she did so, and he noted that by now it was beginning to feel almost normal to fly past the narrow sill into the filly’s bedroom. He’d barely gotten his hooves back on the ground inside before Zippoorwhill tossed him a bottle of soda. He fumbled for a moment, but somehow managed to catch it with his forelegs.
Zippoorwhill uncapped her soda and quickly downed half the bottle. Noticing an entire case of the stuff sitting in the corner, Featherweight took a moment to wonder if his friend’s alarming sugar intake had anything to do with her hyperactivity, but he quickly dismissed the thought. After all, sugar rushes usually came with sugar crashes, and Zippoorwhill, in his experience, never seemed to stop.
“You’re awful quiet,” Zippoorwhill said suddenly, pulling Featherweight from his thought. “Whatsa’ matter? Don’t you want your soda pop?”
“Oh, sorry,” Featherweight apologized, uncapping the drink. “My mind was just wandering a bit.”
“Oh?” Zippoorwhill asked curiously. “Whatcha’ thinking about?”
“Well—”
“Oh! Idea!” Zippoorwhill cried sharply, shooting back into the air. “Where’s Angus? D’you think he wants a soda pop?”
The filly whistled loudly, and a few moments later, Angus, her Scoltish terrier, appeared in the doorway, his bushy eyebrows raised curiously.
“There you are,” Zippoorwhill said sweetly, scooping up the dog in her forelegs and flying a lap around the room with him. “Featherweight, you remember Angus, right?”
Featherweight nodded and decided not to remind the filly that, since he’d joined her in taking Angus for a walk in the park barely a full day earlier, it would be kind of surprising if he didn’t remember the little pooch.
Angus licked Zippoorwhill’s face a few times. The filly giggled and set him down on the bed, and then flopped down on top of the covers next to him.
“I dunno what I’d do without Angus around,” Zippoorwhill commented, scratching the terrier behind the ears. “He’s my most bestest friend in the whole wide world, for sure!”
Featherweight felt his ears drooped slightly. Fortunately, Zippoorwhill was too busy darting over to pour a small volume of soda into Angus’s water bowl to notice.
“We’ll have to brush your teeth tonight, Angus,” she chirped as the dog lapped at his treat. “Soda pop is bad for those little doggy teeth, after all!”
Featherweight remained quiet, sipping his own drink as he watched Zippoorwhill fawn over Angus for a bit longer. After a few minutes, he rose to his hooves.
“Well, I guess I’d better go, Zippi,” he said, glancing out the window at the setting sun. “It’ll be dinnertime soon, and mom might be mad if I’m late.”
“Alrighty!” Zippoorwhill called, turning away from Angus long enough to wave to the colt. “See you in school next week!”
“Yeah, bye,” Featherweight replied, clambering out the window again. He heard the sound of Zippoorwhill cooing over her dog again as he flew away.
You’re jealous of that dumb dog, aren’t you? he asked himself, scowling. It’s like I don’t even exist when Angus is around. Sometimes I wish he would just—
Featherweight forced himself not to finish the thought. No, what am I saying? he wondered. Zippi would be miserable without that dog. Zippi’s just a friend; if she wants to play with Angus, I can just get by without her for a while, right?
The smell of fresh vegetable stew filled Featherweight’s nose as he approached his home, and he pushed Zippoorwhill and Angus from his mind for a while as he hurried inside.
Thunk.
Featherweight rolled over in bed and opened his eyes just a fraction of an inch. Early morning light shone between the curtains. It appeared to be just after dawn: far too early to get up on a Saturday. He closed his eyes again.
Thunk. Thunk.
The window panes shook, and Featherweight sat up. Who’s making all that racket at this Celestia-forsaken hour? he wondered irately.
Thunk!
The sound was louder this time, and the window shook again behind the curtains. Stumbling out of bed, Featherweight made his way across the room and pushed them aside, squinting in the bright light. He’d barely gotten them open when a fast moving object crashed against the window, causing him to jump back in surprise.
Thunk!
Even though Featherweight’s eyes hadn’t adjusted to the morning light, there was no mistaking the tiny pegasus knocking herself against his window like an insect drawn to a porch light.
“Featherweight!” Zippoorwhill called urgently as she launched herself against the glass again. “Let me in! It’s an emergency!”
Featherweight rolled his eyes and complied. As soon as he opened the window, Zippoorwhill hurtled inside and crashed into the far wall, slumping down to the carpet. She jumped up again instantly, apparently unharmed, and leapt forward, grabbing Featherweight by the shoulders and shaking him around.
“Featherweight, you’ve got to help me! The most terrible thing ever has happened!” the filly cried desperately, her wings moving in sporadic buzzing fits behind her.
“Zippoorwhill, it’s like six in the morning,” Featherweight mumbled, gently pushing her away and rubbing his tired eyes. “What’s wrong, did you run out of soda or something?”
To the colt’s surprise, Zippoorwhill looked genuinely hurt by his comment. “S-sorry,” he apologized, wary of her pout. “I’m just a little grumpy because it’s so early. What’s wrong?”
“It’s Angus!” Zippoorwhill wailed. “He’s gone missing! Just totally disappeared! Poof!”
Featherweight raised an eyebrow. “For real?” he asked skeptically. “You’re sure he’s not just hiding in your house somewhere?”
“Super sure!” Zippoorwhill assured him. “I checked under the bed and behind the couch and in the bathtub and down in the basement and up the water spout and all around the mulberry bush and over the river and through the woods and—”
“Alright!” Featherweight said loudly, fearing the filly would go on forever if he didn’t intervene. “He’s missing. Do you have any idea where he might have run off to?”
“No…” Zippoorwhill said sadly. “But he can’t have just vanished. Can you help me look for him? Please?”
Featherweight was taken by surprise. “What, now? Um—”
“We could look for clues and stuff!” Zippoorwhill pointed out. “You were a reporter for the school paper, weren’t you? You know all about gathering information. I’ll never find poor Angus without a pony with your skills!”
Zippoorwhill put on the most desperate-looking pout she could possibly manage. Her big, sad eyes, magnified by her glasses, stared up hopefully at Featherweight.
The colt gave in. “Y-yeah, okay. Let’s go.”
“Yahoo!” Zippoorwhill cheered, flitting madly around the room before launching herself downwards and catching Featherweight in a hug that was more of a flying tackle than anything else. “I just knew I could count on you! Now come on, the longer we wait, the more trouble Angus could wind up in. Follow me!”
Zippoorwhill grabbed Featherweight’s camera off the desk and dropped the strap around his neck, then rocketed out the window, leaving a dazed Featherweight to wonder what he’d just gotten himself into.
'Looking for clues' went about as well as Featherweight had expected. A thorough search of Zippoorwhill’s home revealed two rather obvious facts: there had been a dog here at one point, and it wasn’t here now. Still, Featherweight took a few pictures of Angus’s favorite spots in the house, as well as a few of his favorite chew toys, hoping against hope that something he collected would prove useful.
Zippoorwhill, in the meantime, darted around the immediate neighborhood, whistling and calling Angus’s name, but the terrier did not appear. She soon returned to Featherweight, looking morose.
“Find anything?” she asked.
“Nothing out of the ordinary,” Featherweight admitted. “I just don’t understand it. Angus loves you; why would he run away like this?”
Zippoorwhill’s eyes went wide. “Maybe he didn’t run away!” she gasped. “Maybe Angus was petnapped!”
Featherweight blinked. “Zippi, that might be a little bit of a strong assumption, given the evidence…”
“I can just imagine him now!” Zippoorwhill continued, ignoring him. “I bet he’s locked up somewhere, with no food and just a bowl of old, slimy water, whimpering and waiting for me to come and scoop him up and take him somewhere safe!”
Zippoorwhill hopped unexpectedly onto Featherweight’s back, and held out a forehoof in a grand, determined fashion. “I won’t stand for that a second longer!” she announced. “We’re coming to save you, Angus!”
“Not until you get off my back, we’re not,” Featherweight panted.
“Oh, fine,” Zippoorwhill replied, floating into the air. “Come on, we have to go into town and investigate!”
Featherweight couldn’t help but feel the whole situation was gradually slipping further and further out of his control, but his objections were nothing before Zippoorwhill’s determination. Sighing tiredly, he followed her into town.
“Come on, we haven’t checked the east side of town yet!”
“Zippoorwhill, stop!” Featherweight pleaded, gasping for breath as he collapsed on the road behind his friend. “We’ve been running around town without an objective for six hours. Can we at least stop and get something to eat before we keep looking?”
“There’s no time for that,” Zippoorwhill scolded, her hooves on her hips. “The petnapper could be halfway to Manehattan by now, and the longer we spend looking for him, the further he’s gonna get!”
Featherweight rolled his eyes. “But we haven’t eaten all day,” he complained. “We need to stop for something.”
Zippoorwhill opened her mouth to reply but was cut off by the sound of her own stomach rumbling. She blushed briefly and quickly reached up to adjust her glasses in a failed attempt to hide her embarrassed expression.
“Oh, fine. Let’s get a couple of daisy sandwiches or something, and then it’s right back to searching.”
Featherweight sighed with relief and quickly led the way to the small outdoor eatery near the center of town. The foals ordered their sandwiches (and a soda pop for Zippoorwhill) and went over the game plan once again while they waited.
“Okay, so we’ve covered about three-quarters of the town on foot and from the air,” Zippoorwhill said, drawing imaginary diagrams on the tabletop with the tip of her hoof. “It should only take us about an hour to check out the east side, and if Angus isn’t there, we’ll go back to my house and discuss the evidence, and figure out which town the petnapper is most likely to have headed to.”
She grinned. “Just think, Featherweight! You and me, on a quest for the ages to rescue Angus! We’ll travel to the ends of Equestria if we have to! We’ll brave harsh snows and scorching heat! We’ll fight off timberwolves and manticores and even changelings with our bare hooves! We’ll leave no stone unturned until we find—”
“Angus?” Featherwight asked, pointing and tilting his head to get a better view of a patch of scruffy brown fur not unlike the terrier’s poking out from another customer’s saddlebag.
Zippoorwhill gave a gasp so tremendous it would have given Pinkie Pie a run for her money. Within a second, she’d leaped from the table and yanked the mass of fur from the mare’s saddlebag. “Angus!” she cried, hugging it tightly. “I thought I’d never see you ever again! Featherweight and I were just about to set out to search all of Equestria for you and… and why do you feel like you don’t have any bones anymore?”
“Because you’re hugging a scarf, dear,” the mare at the table deadpanned.
The foals looked up at the scarf’s owner. Featherweight recognized her easily enough: Rarity, the older sister of his classmate Sweetie Belle.
Zippoorwhill blinked, uncomprehending, and looked back down at the long-furred scarf. Then she leapt back into the air, hovering at Rarity’s head height, and swung a forehoof in a grand and dramatic fashion to point at her.
“So you’re the petnapper!” she accused. “You stole Angus and turned him into next season’s fashion! And you’re one of the Ponytones, no less! What a scandal! You ought to be ashamed of—”
Featherweight clamped his teeth on Zippoorwhill’s tail and yanked her out of Rarity’s face. “Don’t jump to conclusions!” he scolded. “I know it looks like Angus’s fur, but do you really think the local tailor is kidnapping pets to make them into clothing?”
Zippoorwhill shrugged noncommittally. “Well, interrogate her then, Mr. Reporter,” she recommended. “She’s gotta know something.”
Featherweight craned his neck to look up at Rarity, who was still staring down at them, baffled. “Sorry about that,” he apologized. “Zippoorwhill’s dog has gone missing, and she’s a little bit frantic.”
Rarity smiled. “Oh, no harm done, darling” she said with a chuckle. “But I have to ask, whatever made you think that I of all ponies was responsible for his disappearance?”
“It’s that scarf of yours,” Zippoorwhill said, still sounding suspicious. “I know a lot about dogs, and that looks an awful lot like canine fur.”
Rarity looked at the scarf again. “I suppose it probably is,” she admitted, “but I certainly didn’t kidnap any pets to make it. I was simply lucky enough to come across a traveling pony selling the stuff in the market a day or two ago.”
She lifted the scarf with magic and wrapped it around her neck. “Now, I know my fashion as well as you know your canines, dear, and this color, this texture… oh, this is going to be so in this winter! The salespony had quite a few varieties of fur, so I purchased a few for my latest line. I must say, I think this first prototype came out simply marvelous!”
“There, see?” Featherweight said, patting Zippoorwhill on the back. “It was just a coincidence. I’m sure Angus is fine.”
Zippoorwhill heaved a sigh. “Well, I guess not finding the culprit is a good thing if it means Angus might still be okay,” she admitted, rubbing a forehoof on the back of the other, embarrassed. “Sorry for accusing you, Miss Rarity.”
Rarity nodded solemnly. “It’s quite alright, darling. I know quite acutely losing a pet can be quite hard. Why, my own darling cat Opalescence disappeared not two days ago.”
Zippoorwhill gasped, and even Featherweight’s jaw dropped. The foals exchanged shocked glances. Rarity looked confused for a moment, but then the realization seemed to dawn on her as well.
“Dear, you don’t suppose these incidents are connected?”
“I hope it’s just a coincidence,” Featherweight admitted, “but now I’m not so sure. If only we had another clue…”
Zippoorwhill knocked lightly on Featherweight’s head. “Equestria to Featherweight,” she said loudly. “The answer’s sitting right in front of us. The fur salespony is the petnapper!”
“What?” Featherweight asked, stepping back. “Zippi, that’s ridiculous.”
“Actually, I guess it is at least possible,” Rarity said slowly. “I’m quite sure I’ve never seen that pony around town before. He wore a long traveling cloak, much like Zecora’s, so I’m afraid I never got a good look at him, but he seemed to walk in the oddest fashion. I was too excited by the prospect of a whole new winter line to think much of it, but I suppose he was rather shady, as Ponyville folk go.”
“Do you know anything else about him? Anything at all?” Featherweight asked.
Rarity shook her head. “I’m sorry, darling, but I don’t. I do hope he’s not guilty of the crimes you suspect him of, though. The thought of a Ponyville petnapper is simply dreadful.”
“Well, we’re gonna find out,” Zippoorwhill said, giving a determined nod.
“Don’t do anything too dangerous,” Rarity cautioned as she stood up to go pay for her lunch. “I do sincerely hope your poor dog turns up, though.”
“Same with your cat,” Zippoorwhill replied.
“Oh, and tell Sweetie Belle we said hello,” Featherweight added.
Rarity smiled. “I’ll do that. Ta-ta, you two!”
Rarity trotted away, and Zippoorwhill once again turned to Featherweight and gripped him by the shoulders, practically pressing her nose against his.
“Alright, Featherweight. We have clues. Actual clues!” she announced. “Now we just have to figure out how to use them. We need to find a cloaked pony with a strange gait. If what Rarity says is true, he might be our petnapper! And even if he’s not, maybe we can get more information out of him.”
“Zippi, we’ve been all over Ponyville today, and I haven’t seen anypony like that,” Featherweight pointed out. “What makes you think he’ll appear now?”
“You’re right,” Zippoorwhill said, tapping her chin thoughtfully as she floated back into the air. “What we need is some kind of plan to lure him out…”
There were a few seconds of silence, and then an expression that could only be the harbinger of a totally crazy idea crept across the filly’s face. Featherweight swallowed hard.
“Featherweight, you promised you’d do anything it takes to help me find Angus, right?” she asked, putting on her best pout again.
“Promise is a strong word…” Featherweight said awkwardly.
“Great, I knew you’d be up for it!” Zippoorwhill chirped, as if the colt had given an affirmative answer. “C’mon, we need to go back to my house for a bit! I have a super amazing, can’t-possibly-fail plan that you’re just gonna love!”
Zippoorwhill’s “super amazing, can’t-possibly-fail plan” was something even Featherweight couldn’t have imagined. Caught up in her constant flurry of activity, by the time he could even ask what was happening, he was already decked out in a poorly-fitting and almost laughably unconvincing dog costume.
“Bait?” he asked disbelievingly.
“Bait,” Zippoorwhill responded resolutely, adjusting the costume’s floppy ears so they laid flat on the sides of the colt’s head.
“Bait,” Featherweight repeated dully. “Nopony’s gonna fall for this you know.”
“Not if you act like that, they won’t!” Zippoorwhill said crossly. Now get out there on the street corner and act like a defenseless puppy.”
Featherweight crept slowly out the front door, careful not to trip on any part of the baggy, ridiculous dog suit.
Why am I even doing this? he wondered. I’m accomplishing nothing, and humiliating myself in the process, just because she told me to.
He glanced toward Zippoorwhill’s hiding place. The filly was fairly well concealed, but he could still see the light reflecting off her glasses. She poked her head out and waved cheerfully at him before slipping back into cover.
Featherweight sighed. Because she’s counting on me. She trusts me. That’s why.
He had to admit, Zippoorwhill’s theory about the petnapper had actually become plausible. Given the circumstances, he owed her at least a little more cooperation. Though he could think of quite a few ways he’d rather be spending his Saturday afternoon than standing on a street corner in a dog suit.
An hour passed. Ponies ambled by. Many ignored him, and a few gave him strange looks, but he continued to sit there, trying in vain to look like a convincing dog.
Soon, it was nearly four o’clock. Hot, itchy, hungry, and tired of ponies’ confused stares, Featherweight was about ready to call it a day. Just as he started to rise to his hooves, somepony came around the corner and caught his eye.
A pony in an overly large, brown cloak stumbled into view. Concealed by a hood, only the tip of an orange muzzle poked out. Featherweight was fairly sure it was a stallion at least, but the way it stumbled along and the strange shape of its body made it hard to be certain. The pony walked somewhat bent over, and had a considerable hunchback.
Featherweight sat stone still as the cloaked figure stumbled along. Once it neared his side of the street, it stopped, staring at him intently from beneath the folds of the cloth.
It can’t be, Featherweight thought. Is this really the petnapper?
The cloaked pony mumbled to itself for a moment. There was a second of silence, more mumbling, and then it began to approach the disguised colt.
“It’s a weird-lookin’ one,” he heard the pony whisper. “Any old critter will do, though.”
Two forehooves appeared from under the cloak, reaching for Featherweight. Shocked, he scrambled backward a few feet.
“Zippoorwhill! Help!”
The hours of waiting hadn’t dulled Zippoorwhill’s attention. She shot out of the shadows, screaming out an unintelligible war cry, and collided with the cloaked figure in the most impressive aerial headbutt Featherweight had ever seen.
The petnapper toppled, becoming a mass of legs writhing beneath the cloak. Two clearly separate voices began yelling and arguing from underneath.
“It’s… not a stallion!” Featherweight said, shocked. “It’s two different colts!”
“They’re onto us!” one of the voices said. “Let’s get out of here!”
Somehow still both hidden beneath the cloak, but no longer maintaining the illusion, the pair of perpetrators fled into in alleyway. Zippoorwhill grabbed Featherweight around the chest and yanked him into the air.
“Come on! We can’t let them get away!” she urged. “They know what happened to Angus!”
Featherweight recovered from the shock enough to start wrestling to escape the costume. Zippoorwhill, to his amazement, carried him easily through the air until he was able to free his wings. Once the filly released him into the air, the two of them darted after the mystery colts, with Zippoorwhill leading and Featherweight trailing behind, as usual.
Unfortunately, the pegasi had lost valuable time while Featherweight struggled with the costume. By the time they turned a corner into another small back alley, the cloak had been discarded on the ground, and the two perpetrators were nowhere to be found.
“They got away…” Zippoorwhill mumbled, sinking to the ground and hanging her head in defeat. “Now we’ll never find Angus…”
Featherweight landed next to the filly and placed a foreleg over her shoulders. “Yes we will,” he assured her. “Those petnappers got ahead of us, but not that far ahead. There’s no way they could possibly have made it to the end of this alley without us seeing them. That means the only way they could have disappeared was if they hid in one of the buildings.”
Zippoorwhill perked right back up and turned to her friend hopefully. “Really? You think so?”
“Well, unless they teleported or something,” Featherweight added. “They were just colts though. Chances are they just hid.”
The foals looked down the narrow alley. Most of the walls were just the backs of buildings. There were only two or three actual entrances to choose from, and most of them were quite run down. Featherweight cautiously approached the doorstep of an abandoned-looking place, with boards on the windows and mold growing on the corners of the porch. The door was slightly ajar.
“Think we should check in here?” he asked.
By the time the question had fully left his mouth, Zippoorwhill had flown over his head and into the dark foyer. Guess that answers that, he thought as he followed her inside.
The interior was totally bare. If there had ever been any furniture, it had long since been moved out. Dust covered everything, and cobwebs filled the corners.
Neither Featherweight nor Zippoorwhill paid much attention to that though. Their attention immediately turned to the faint sounds of whimpering and barking coming from nearby.
“The animals!” Zippoorwhill whispered excitedly. “We found them! We found the petnappers’ secret hideout!”
“We did, didn’t we?” Featherweight realized, both aghast that another one of Zippoorwhill’s plans had worked and ashamed that he hadn’t trusted her to pull it off. “Where’s that sound coming from?”
Zippoorwhill fluttered over to a door in the dark hallway ahead and pulled it slowly open. A musty wooden staircase led down into semidarkness, and the animal sounds grew louder. She gave Featherweight an excited glance.
“They must have gone down here,” she said. “Come on, we can still save Angus and all the other animals!”
“Are you sure we should just rush in like that?” Featherweight asked nervously. “We could go and get a police pony or something…”
“There’s no time for that!” Zippoorwhill insisted. “The petnappers are down there right now, and they might be doing terrible things to Angus and the other animals! We didn’t even have to travel to the ends of Equestria or fight deadly creatures to find them, either. Now all we have to do is go down there and get my dog back!”
Featherweight hung his head. “Zippi, I dunno…”
Zippoorwhill huffed and placed her forehooves on her hips as she hovered above the colt. “Well, fine,” she snapped. “You’ve second-guessed every single idea I’ve had today. If you didn’t care about helping me save Angus, you should have said so in the first place.”
Featherweight blinked. “Zippi, I’m just—”
“Well you know what? That’s fine!” Zippoorwhill continued. “Go home and hide if you want. I’ll rescue the animals myself.”
With an indignant snort, she turned and began to march down the cellar stairs.
“Zippi, come on. Don’t do this…” Featherweight urged.
The filly ignored him, her nose held high in the air as she trotted further down the stairs.
Featherweight stamped a hoof. Why won’t she listen to me? he cried in his mind. Why does she insist on rushing into things all the time? And why…
He squeezed his eyes shut. Why won’t I give her a chance?
The filly had almost disappeared from view. It was now or never.
“Zippoorwhill, wait.”
The filly turned around, staring over the rims of her glasses angrily. “Why should I?”
“Because,” Featherweight replied, gliding down the stairwell and alighting next to his friend, “you almost left without me.”
There was a shuddering second of silence. And then, as was typical for her, Zippoorwhill’s mood made a heel-face turn. Suddenly beaming, she ruffled Featherweight’s mane playfully.
“I knew you wouldn’t wanna miss out on this. Come on, let’s go catch those petnappers!”
Featherweight’s uncertainty about the mission quickly deepened when he and Zippoorwhill entered the next room. The cellar split into two separate long corridors, each lined with small cages. Many of the cages were empty or damaged, but a few were locked up, keeping their prisoners locked inside. Zippoorwhill quickly darted to one of the cages and gasped.
“Featherweight,” she whispered frantically, “come look at this.”
Featherweight hurried over and peeked between the bars, and his face drained of what little color it had. The animal inside was… probably a cat, but it was hard to tell, considering all its fur had been shaved off. The skinny, naked feline hissed at the foals as it shivered.
“They’re shaving the animals,” Featherweight said, unbelieving. “Shaving them and selling the fur to ponies like Rarity.”
Zippoorwhill looked more closely at the disgruntled cat. Her eyes widened for a moment.
“Featherweight look. Right there, on top of her head.”
Featherweight put his face as close to the bars as he safely could. There was one single tuft of brilliant white fur atop the cat’s head, tied up in an unmistakable purple bow.
“This is Rarity’s cat!” he realized.
“Ironic, huh?” Zippoorwhill asked. “She could have bought her own cat’s fur and turned it into a coat lining or something without even realizing it.”
The filly straightened up again. “There are a bunch of corridors with cages in them,” she pointed out. “It looks like some of the animals haven’t been shaved yet. Let’s split up and see if we can find Angus before it’s too late.”
Featherweight bit his lip, but he nodded. “Right. Call me if you find him. Or the petnappers.”
“Can do!” Zippoorwhill replied, flitting off down the hall.
Featherweight watched her zip away, and then trotted off down a parallel hall, being as quiet as possible as he glanced into each of the small animal pens. The animals appeared to be properly fed, at least, though the ones missing their coats looked considerably more miserable than the ones that didn’t.
The colt reached the end of the row, but the terrier he was looking for was nowhere to be found.
Featherweight heard the sound of a cage door swinging shut behind him. “Back already, Zippi?” he asked, still peeking into the last cage in the row. “Did you find Angus?”
Instead of Zippoorwhill’s high voice, Featherweight was answered with a low growl, menacing enough to send a chill through him. Swallowing hard, he slowly lifted his head and looked down the hall.
A pair of large dogs, both totally shaved and very, very angry, bared their teeth at the colt. Frozen, Featherweight waited, but the two naked canines stood their ground.
“H-hey there,” he said nervously. “How’d y-you two get out of your c-cages?”
Very slowly, the colt lifted a forehoof, but even the slightest movement only made the dogs growl more ferociously.
They’re going to attack, he realized, horrified. The ceiling’s too low to escape by flying; they’d still be able to reach me if they jump. And even if flying was an option, they’d be on me as soon as I tried to take off!
Desperately trying to think of other options, Featherweight slowly backed up another step, but the dogs advanced to match his movements. “N-nice doggies,” he managed to squeak. “Go on, r-run along. I’m nopony you’d be interested i-in…”
The colt tried to take another step back, and his hind hoof touched down on a spot of grime on the stone floor. With a sharp yell, he slipped and staggered backwards, and heard the sound of the dogs rushing forward before he could even regain his balance.
Well, this is it, he thought to himself in that one terrifying second. I knew following Zippi down here was a bad idea.
As soon as all four hooves had purchase on the floor again, Featherweight tensed, squeezed his eyes shut, and waited for the inevitable pain. Instead, he heard a sudden buzzing sound, followed by a pair of surprised yelps.
“Now what kind of way is that to behave?” a familiar voice asked. “He didn’t do anything to you!”
Featherweight’s eyes promptly popped open again. “Zippoorwhill?” he asked.
Sure enough, the filly hovered just above him, her wings buzzing furiously as she held each of the two shocked-looking dogs under each of her forelegs. “Looks like our petnappers aren’t being too careful,” she said, rolling her eyes. “Not double checking the locks on the cages? Not very professional if you ask me.”
Zippoorwhill flew a short distance away and carefully landed, setting her two passengers down and giving each of them a few gentle strokes. She pulled a few doggy treats from her saddlebag, and soon, the two previously agitated pets were much calmer, crunching away on the filly’s snacks. Grinning, she floated back into the air and darted over to Featherweight’s side.
“There,” she said, nodding in satisfaction. “That should make those two a little friendlier to us.”
Featherweight stared at her, uncomprehending. “But… but…” he stuttered, “but how did you—”
“I’m good with dogs, remember?” Zippoorwhill asked, grinning mischeviously and wiggling her hips to show off her cutie mark, which managed to earn both a nod of assent and a slight blush from Featherweight.
“That’s not what I meant, though,” he continued. “How’d you even know I was in trouble in the first place?”
Zippoorwhill shrugged. “Well, I didn’t know, really. Angus wasn’t in the row I checked, so I was coming back to meet up with you anyway. Something was telling me you probably didn’t wanna be down here by yourself for longer than you had to, since you almost didn’t come along in the first place.”
Featherweight nodded again. “Well, uh… thanks. I would have been in some serious trouble there if you hadn’t showed up.”
“No problem,” Zippoorwhill said, waving away the thanks with a dismissive hoof. “Now follow me! I saw another door at the back of the cellar. If the petnappers are back there, maybe they can show us where Angus is!”
This time, Featherweight had no arguments. Determined to help the filly reclaim her lost pet, he bounded after her into the depths of the basement.
“I hear them,” Featherweight whispered, pressing his ear against the heavy door. They’re talking on the other side.”
“What are they saying?” Zippoorwhill asked frantically.
“How am I supposed to know?” Featherweight asked. “Does it matter?”
“No it does not!” Zippoorwhill announced, sounding triumphant for reasons Featherweight could only guess. “All that matters is what they will tell us when we get in there!”
There was a brief pause. Zippoorwhill remained hovering, pointing at the door in a dramatic fashion, but she did not move. After a few seconds, she eased herself slowly to the ground. Featherweight was surprised to see her determination replaced by a look of concern.
“So, um, are you ready?” she asked him. “We can do this if we work together, right?”
Featherweight raised an eyebrow. “You were the one who was so sure it was a good idea to come down here and rescue Angus ourselves,” he pointed out.
Zippoorwhill bit her lip. “Well yeah, but… I mean, only because we would have lost valuable time looking for help first. It doesn’t mean I’m not… you know, a little worried.”
She smiled weakly. “So, can I ask for your help this one last time?”
Featherweight shifted his weight nervously. “Zippi, I’m gonna be honest with you,” he began with a sad smile. “You were right about what you said when I tried to avoid coming down here. All day I’ve been, err, hoping to find ‘better’ options instead of your suggestions. I didn’t trust you enough, I guess. But now here we are, ready to confront the ponies who took your dog, and we wouldn’t be here if I had actually refused to give you that chance. I-I’m sorry about how uninterested and even arrogant I must have seemed.”
Zippoorwhill continued to chew her lip. “So…” she started hesitantly, “does that mean… this time, you’re in?”
Featherweight nodded emphatically. “I’m in! Let’s do this.”
“Alright!” Zippoorwhill cheered, pumping a forehoof in the air. “Let’s get ‘em. Ready, set… go!”
The two ponies hurled themselves against the door. Unfortunately, it swung open much easier than they’d expected, and both toppled into the room in a heap.
“Whaa! Who’s that?” a colt’s voice asked.
“It’s Featherweight and Zippoorwhill from earlier!” said another, higher voice. “They must have followed us here!”
Zippoorwhill popped right up from the ground into the air, and Featherweight scrambled to his hooves as well. Before him was a chubby, blue-green colt, holding a small electric shaver in his aura. His companion, a tall orange colt, also stared at him, looking shocked and slightly guilty as he held tightly to a familiar Scoltish terrier pinned against his chest.
“Angus!” Zippoorwhill squealed. “You’re alright! Not shaved or anything! Featherweight, he’s alright!”
“Snips? Snails?” Featherweight asked. “You’re the petnappers?”
Snips cringed. “Petnappers is putting it a little harshly, don’t you think?” he asked meekly, failing to make eye contact with Featherweight.
“There are a couple dozen cats and dogs shaved and locked up in the next room,” Zippoorwhill deadpanned, pointing to the door.
Snips’ face flushed. “Well, I guess, technically, yeah…” he mumbled.
“We didn’t mean no harm, though!” Snails said desperately. “We were gonna let em all go, really.”
“Speaking of letting go,” Zippoorwhill said angrily, crossing her forelegs over her chest as she hovered, “how about you let go of my dog, Snails, before I come over there and take him myself?”
Snails gulped and quickly released his grip. As soon as Angus reached the floor, he immediately bounded across the room towards his owner. Yipping happily, he leapt into Zippoorwhill’s outstretched forelegs and was pulled into a hug.
“Angus!” the filly cooed as the terrier licked her face. “We’ve been looking everywhere for you. I hope Snips and Snails didn’t treat you too badly, you poor thing.”
Featherweight couldn’t help but smile at seeing Zippoorwhill so happy. After a moment, he turned back to Snips and Snails, who were looking particularly glum.
“So… what were you two thinking?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. “I never would’ve taken you two to be criminals. Why’d you do it?”
“We weren’t trying to kidnap the pets,” Snips explained, hanging his head. “We were just borrowing them.”
“And shaving them!” Featherweight said forcefully, advancing a step and causing Snips to back up, despite the fact that the unicorn colt was probably twice his weight.
“That’s not a big deal, is it?” Snips asked defensively. “It’ll grow back!”
“That’s not the point,” Featherweight retorted. “Why did you decide you needed pet fur so badly that it was worth stealing and shaving Ponyville’s pets?”
“It’s not our fault ponies want to buy it!” Snips continued, while Snails nodded in agreement. “The Great and Powerful Trixie’s been having some, uh, funding issues regarding her magic show. She told us if we could each come up with a hundred bits for her by next week, she’d take us to Canterlot to be her personal assistants in her next performance! How else were we supposed to come up with the money that fast?”
Zippoorwhill rolled her eyes. “Get a job?” she asked snidely. “You’d think that’d be a little easier than sneaking around town stealing helpless animals, not to mention more ethical.”
The colts’ ears drooped. “We messed up real good this time, didn’t we, Snips?”
Snips smirked. “Yeah, but at least it’s not as bad as that time we brought an Ursa Minor to Ponyville, right?”
Snails cringed. “Right.”
Snips looked back to Featherweight. “So what should we do now?” he asked nervously.
“Well, obviously the first thing to do is return everypony’s pets,” Featherweight said. “I imagine a lot of ponies will be angry, but it’s what’s gotta be done.”
“What about all the fur we haven’t sold?” Snails asked, pointing to several bags of fur stacked in the corner.
“Ooh, ooh!” Zippoorwhill squeaked, zipping around frantically. “You could donate it to Rarity! I bet she could make little coats for the pets, so they could look at least semi-normal until their real coats grow back!”
Snips sighed. “Well, there goes our chance at two hundred bits,” he sighed.
“Do you two really think you deserve those bits after what you did here?” Featherweight asked, shaking his head.
The two colts just looked guilty as they trotted slowly past Featherweight to return to the room where the pets were stored. Snips paused in front of Zippoorwhill on his way out. “Sorry for worrying you,” he mumbled. “We weren’t gonna hurt Angus, I swear.”
Angus hopped out of Zippoorwhill’s grip and scampered over to Snips. He gave a colt a quick nuzzle on the leg before returning to his owner.
Zippoorwhill smirked. “Well, Angus forgives you, so I do too. Just don’t come after my dog again, or you’ll be the ones who suddenly go missing for a few days!”
Snips’ eyes went wide, but he relaxed when Zippoorwhill broke into a mischievous chuckle. “Come on, Snails,” he said. “Let’s round up the animals. We’ve got a lot of returns to make.”
It was sunset. Featherweight, Zippoorwhill, and Angus stood together outside the run down building, watching as Snips and Snails led the ragtag pack of naked pets away into Ponyville.
“Hey, check it out,” Zippoorwhill giggled, pointing to the receding backsides of the two colts and the small army of pets. “Snips and Snails and puppy dog tails.”
Featherweight laughed, relieved to see Zippoorwhill joking around again. “So, I guess we should probably go get Angus cleaned up now, huh?” he asked.
“In a second,” Zippoorwhill said, surprising the colt with her soft tone. “I wanted to talk about something first.”
Featherweight only stared at her curiously, so she continued. “Before we confronted Snips and Snails, you mentioned some stuff about being afraid to trust me. And the more I thought about that, the more I realized it really wasn’t your fault.”
Featherweight cocked his head. “Huh?”
“I mean, you’re right,” she admitted. “I was caught up in the passion I had to rescue Angus as quickly as possible. Looking back, I guess some of the decisions I made were kind of silly…”
“But they were good ones!” Featherweight assured her. “Everything worked out, right? We rescued Angus, and all the other pets are going home now, too.”
“True,” Zippoorwhill said pensively, idly stroking Angus’s head, “but it wouldn’t have if you weren’t willing to back me up, even with my weirdest or most extreme suggestions.”
She paused for a second, taking a deep breath and adjusting her glasses. “I guess what I’m trying to say is… well, thank you. Sometimes I’m moving a little too fast to stop and make it clear how much I appreciate your friendship. Not just today, but always.”
Featherweight blinked several times. “I, uh… thanks, Zippi,” he stuttered. “You’re a great friend too. I wouldn’t have agreed to the stuff we did today if I didn’t really care about you.”
Zippoorwhill blushed, and Featherweight quickly stumbled to correct himself.
“I mean, uh… not care as in, um… ugh, you know what I mean.”
The filly giggled and pulled Featherweight into a hug. Not one of her usual rib-crushing hugs either, he noticed, but one that was gentler, yet somehow warmer at the same time. Then suddenly, she was back in the air, wings buzzing frantically.
“Okay, enough mushy stuff!” she announced. “Come on, the faster we get Angus cleaned up, the faster we can go get some hayburgers for dinner!”
She scooped up Angus and darted down the alley. “Come on, race you to my house!”
Featherweight laughed and leapt into the air. “One of these days I’m gonna be faster than you!” he called.
“In your dreams!” came the reply from Zippoorwhill’s already rapidly disappearing frame as she reached the end of the alley and rounded the corner.
With his heart feeling especially light, Featherweight chuckled and flapped harder, chasing his friend through the twilit streets.
The End
Author's Note
Thanks to MaskedFerret for editing!
http://www.fimfiction.net/user/maskedferret
This story was written before the show introduced the name "Ripley" for Zippoorwhill's dog.
Angus's name was inspired by the real Scottish terrier of the same name who lives with an old lady down the street from me.
