Kisses and Crinkles

Drip.

Drip.

Drip.

Drip.

A single drop of water. A flickering star of gold set in the infinite channels and furrows of the wood.

It ran down the door frame, following the gap between two panes, drawing a long glistening mark as a reminder of the strange substances and weird forces that the natural order has pitted us against.

Water. The material that defies all intuition. A configuration of chemicals that shouldn’t be a liquid to splash around, yet it is. It shouldn’t stick to every surface like glue, yet it does. All thanks to unfathomably implausible circumstance. It mingles with the elements, it carries heat, it is the stuff of life, of ponies, of gods. Any amount of water too small or too large is either useless or destructive. But in moderation it is fundamental piece in the puzzle of life. It’s subtle, it can adapt and boundless strength is hidden within.

Gravity. The unseen property of space and time that holds everything together. The sole reason why we can stand on our hooves, why a leaf dances to the ground and why a mountain stands unyielding. There is no satisfactory explanation of gravity, not by physics, not by magics, not by the divine. And yet it’s still there. That urge, that indispensable pull, pervasive and inevitable. There is always perpetual movement towards an intangible goal, always a reason to go forward. Motion unending.

Light. The fundamental unit of information in the universe. Every force and all matter is related to light. It stands for warmth, for growth and vitality, for energy and magic. For life, for progress, for castles and cities, for safety. The light at the end of the tunnel. The world appears to us under its influence. We perceive, we learn, we evolve. And just like so many cosmic rays, chemicals, atoms, molecules and particles constantly shifting, joining and parting in an infinitesimal network of light, ponies create, improve, learn, think and love, the cradle of civilization, the emergence of sovereignty, in a world blazing bright in comprehension.

Drip.

Drip.

Drip.

The drop of water had crossed the corner onto the floor. Where had it come from? Had somepony brushed against the door frame with their wet coat? Did the door have a crack and needed to be replaced? Inexorably the droplet launched itself forward, finding a way through a vast map of ridges and channels on its jumpy journey across the trampled floor boards. Relentlessly it expanded outward until it hesitated before its ultimate goal, the big wavering puddle around Lyra’s hooves. Her soaked tail dribbled once more, the puddle expanded outwards and swallowed the little drop. Home at last.

Who had designed this stupid raincoat anyway? Admittedly it was exceedingly light, and Lyra could move pretty well since it didn’t cover the tail. But she wondered if it was worth it. Her tail felt uncomfortably clammy, and not being able to lift the clingy wet hairs away from your hind legs was bordering on torture.

“Alright, Parting’s set, I think she’s going to be fine,” Bon Bon said, “Let’s pack up and … uh …”

Right. Getting dressed. Boots and scarf. Lyra hadn’t forgotten, she only had been momentarily distracted. They had one set of watertight boots, and Lyra would have to be the one to wear them.

Somepony had to go out there and look for the missing pony. That much had been clear from the beginning. And that pony was going to be Lyra, because she definitely wasn’t going to send Bon Bon out there into that maelstrom on her own. It was cold out there and loud, and the forest might potentially be really dangerous by the sound of it. That was no place for her little Bon Bon.

“Are you alright?” Bon Bon said.

“I’m fine, Bon Bon,” Lyra said, trying to ignore the fact that she had been dumbly staring at the wall for minutes. She had to be fine. She had to be reliable, strong and in control to resolve this situation as cleanly as possible. If not for the pony who was probably trapped and hurting deep in the forest, then for Bon Bon, to whom she had made the promise of a very special time. She could do this. There wasn’t going to be a catastrophe while she was in charge. “I was just getting dressed.”

“Please be careful, Lyra,” Bon Bon said, “We don’t know what’s out there. And judging by what Parting said, something strange is going on. It could be dangerous, or you could get lost too. Promise me you’ll come back before that happens, alright? I don’t want things to get worse.”

Seeing Bon Bon scared was pure agony. “Don’t worry, Bon Bon, it’s going to be fine,” Lyra said. Her smile was forced. “I’m going to hop in there and find that guy, no big deal. Besides, I need you to be careful too, okay? You have to get help and come after us as fast as possible, or it might be too late. Uh, for him, I mean.” Lyra cringed at the slip. Bon Bon squirmed uncomfortably. That wasn’t the kind of imagery she had intended to bring up.

“But how will you find him?” Bon Bon said, “I can barely see my own hooves outside.”

One after the other, Lyra slipped her hooves into the boots until she felt their elastic bands seal them tight around her shins. The boots looked ridiculous, big clunky shoes of shiny plastic, perfectly paired to her bright yellow raincoat in appearance. But they were absolutely watertight, probably even airtight as far as she could tell. She would probably be needing that.

“Don’t worry, I’ll manage,” Lyra said, “I know my way around the forest, remember? With what Parting told us, I’ll be able to find that picnic spot of theirs. And if something goes wrong, I’ll just wing it. That’s something I’m really good at.”

Bon Bon grabbed the last boot and pulled it up, allowing Lyra’s hind leg to slip inside properly. Then she took the red scarf from the coat hanger and liberally swung it around Lyra’s neck. She held one end of the scarf with her mouth and wrapped the other end around it, before she firmly stuffed the knot down Lyra’s raincoat. Finally, she pulled the hood over Lyra’s head up to her horn, safely bagging her mane and her ears.

“I don’t like this,” Bon Bon said.

“I don’t like this either, and neither do they,” Lyra said, pointing at the third pony somewhere inside the pile of blankets off in the common room, “But we don’t have a choice. We have to do this right now, or something bad might happen to him.”

“I know! But what about you?” Bon Bon pleaded.

Lyra lifted a boot and gently caressed Bon Bon’s chin. “Don’t worry, Bon Bon, I’ll be fine,” she said as calmly as she could, “I know that there might be something out there that’s dangerous. I promise you that I’ll be careful. I’ll see you soon, alright?”

“Alright,” Bon Bon whispered, holding Lyra’s leg for a moment before letting go.

n the current situation, few things were certain. But she also knew that Bon Bon trusted her. She needed Bon Bon to trust her. She couldn’t stand seeing her distressed like that. And it hadn’t been a lie earlier, Lyra really did need Bon Bon to remain calm and composed. Even if Lyra did find the stallion in the forest, she had no way of rescuing him alone. She needed Bon Bon to come after her with help.

“Don’t you think we, um…” Bon Bon said, “we should, uh, take off our … you know …” She nodded toward her hindquarters.

“No!” Lyra said, a little more vehemently than she would have liked. That had hit the sore spot. “No, Bon Bon. This was supposed to be your special weekend. I wanted this to work out so much. I’d set everything up for it to be perfect. Everything was taken care of, there wouldn’t be any interruptions. I wanted it to be special for you, Bon Bon. A few days off, because you deserve it. I’m not going to let that go to waste just because some city ponies decided to come out here and get themselves in trouble at exactly this moment. We’re going to go out there, find that guy, come home and get right back to where we left off. Nopony’s taking anything off here. That’s final.”

It was the stupidest excuse for wearing diapers Bon Bon had ever heard. It was also the reason why she loved Lyra so much.

Before she could say anything else, Bon Bon closed the distance and pressed her lips against Lyra’s. The kiss was raw and emotional, and not without urgency. It told everything Bon Bon wanted to say to Lyra in the shortest time possible. You’re amazing, Lyra. No matter how severe the problem, there’s always a proactive solution. You keep things going forward. All of this, it’s a bad idea and I wouldn’t do this with anypony else. But with you I feel safe.

Too soon they broke. Time was up. Bon Bon pulled on the door handle and the door almost hit her in the face by the sheer force of the blowing wind. She adjusted her hood one last time, looked around to confirm the lack of an alternative route, and started straight forward.

Big, fat drops of rain splashed their payload everywhere as Lyra watched Bon Bon pass through the endless curtains of water. She seemed infinitely lost within the furious sea of black, but she didn’t buckle. She had to crouch, but she didn’t stop. Bon Bon resisted the forces of nature barreling down on her and made her way towards Ponyville, one cautious step at a time. She was almost out of vision, but she hesitated, turned around. There was something she had to say.

There were many things Bon Bon could have said. Their task was ambitious. Their way was dangerous. They had to be careful. They had to see each other again. All this was true. But none of it was what was really on Bon Bon’s amazing mind at that moment. Bon Bon was cunning, because her intuition was always perfectly sensible.

“Lyra!” Bon Bon shouted, barely audible, “The machete! It’s in the basement, under my bag!”

Lyra waved in acknowledgement and Bon Bon ran off into the night.

Close the door quickly. Heat was a valuable resource at the moment. As was information. Lyra would have never found her machete if Bon Bon hadn’t told her where it was. And there was reason to believe she would need it. Overgrown pathways? Impenetrable thicket? What was going on out there? Lyra returned to the common room to find Parting nested within a pile of blankets in front of the fireplace.

“And you,” Lyra said. Parting wasn’t sleeping yet, but she didn’t look far off as she regarded her with red eyes.

“Don’t fall asleep. Stay awake and keep the fire going, and keep the food on the stove warm,” Lyra said, ”take whatever you need, in case anything comes up. I’m heading out now and I need you to wait for us when we return.”

“I will be ready,” Parting said. She hung her head, her voice gloomy. “Please, just find Teak.” She rested her head on her forehooves. “He shouldn’t be out there. I should have stayed with him. I’m so sorry I can’t be any more help. But I just have to see him again.”

She looked miserable. She was hurt and exhausted, and she would be of no use out there. She could only resign and wait. Lyra had immediately found her and her coltfriend affable when she had seem them together in the field yesterday. They had been happy and carefree, lost in each other’s presence. Now Parting was alone, separated from her beloved by circumstance, and she craved nothing more than to bask in his presence again.

Lyra knew the feeling perfectly well.

“Hey, come on. It’ll be alright, okay?” Lyra said more gently, “You’ve come this far, right? Can’t give up now. And everything will work out in the end, you’ll see. We will return, I promise you that.”

To Lyra’s relief, Parting raised her head again. She regarded her with glossy eyes and nodded.

Lyra had nothing more to say, really. She couldn’t bear keeping Parting company any longer due to the growing pang of guilt in the back of her head. Sure, they would return, that was true. But nopony could be certain in what condition they would find Teak, suppose they could locate him in the first place. That wasn’t something she could afford to think about right now. Lyra made for the door.

She made sure to stand far back before she grabbed the handle and pulled open the door. As she stepped out, the world was swallowed in the all-encompassing warble of the water smashing against the hood of her raincoat. The heavy raindrops and tiny pellets of ice drumming about everywhere was a thoroughly unpleasant sensation. And after the brief respite inside, the cacophony of the storm was again way too loud.

Raindrops noisily smashed against solid surfaces, hail crackled against glass or metal, and water splashed into puddles and mud in droves. Even though she knew it to be futile, Lyra found herself scanning what she presumed to be the horizon in the direction of Ponyville. Of course there was no Bon Bon. She was on her way to do her part. Off into the glowing dome of the town’s street lights, refracted through a million falling droplets.

Lyra closed the door and turned away from the path. She headed past the house towards the forest.

She only got to the shed before the weather started grating on her nerves. It wasn’t just the physical sensation of the masses of water constantly splashing down on her, the perpetual prickling everywhere at once. If it just wasn’t so darned cold!

Lyra drew her head in and buried her muzzle in her warm scarf, but it didn’t help all too much. The chill was pervasive. It bit into her skin. No wonder the ground was crunchy beneath her boots, it was almost odd that it wasn’t hailing outright with temperatures so low. Lyra felt the frost sting within her exposed joints and on her side that faced the wind. The cold was becoming a problem quickly, and she could already tell that wasn’t well enough prepared. Some journey this was promising to become.

Lyra found brief shelter in the basement as she carefully navigated down the stairs. Great, they had left the door open. That wasn’t a problem during bad weather usually as any excess water would just vanish in the grating at the bottom of the stairs. But either the poor little drain couldn’t handle a storm of this magnitude, or, even worse, Ponyville’s sewers were already overflowing. In any case, there was a big puddle of water relentlessly growing in the on the concrete floor. Fortunately, everything that was up on the tables, except for some metal tools, a bunch of rubble and some pencils.

Lyra had to tread carefully not to slip. She navigated over to the large table at the wall. Quickly she located Bon Bon’s felt saddlebags, their rough texture unmistakable, and nosed them aside. Her chin brushed against steel cold like ice. There it was.

She grabbed the machete by its cloth-wrapped handle. It was a beautiful piece of work. The polished blade glinted deadly even now in the scarce errant ray of light from outside. It balanced itself in her grasp delicately and with the deadly precision to cut a blade of grass, yet so blunt and destructively heavy, promising to smash even the hardest of rocks.

It empowered Lyra to hold such a magnificent piece of craftsponyship. She was ready to accomplish anything, and her trusty tool would never fail in its duty. There was nothing that could stand in her way. Just come and try to stop her. Lyra held the machete with her horn and swung it around a bit. It moved exactly like she wanted it to. She would have heard the blade sing in the air if it had been at all possible. The blade was a perfect extension of her body. It would be all she needed. She was ready. Let’s do this. Maybe this journey wouldn’t be so bad after all.

Her metal companion in tow, Lyra walked out of the basement with new resolve. After cautiously climbing the stairs, she broke into a gallop and ploughed her way through the resistance of the forces of nature. Her heart was beating and her hooves carried her with little trouble over the muddy lawn. She felt very awake.

Her first goal was the spot where Parting and Teak had entered the forest the day previously. She was familiar with the path they had taken. It was far out on the other end of the field. The ground there rose in a gentle incline that ran in the direction perpendicular to the passing road, away from Ponyville. Trees didn’t like to settle there because the ground was soft and the earth was exposed between a flimsy layer of grass. The ground always teetered on the brink of becoming an actual trodden path since ponies liked to take walks in the swath that cut deep inside the forest. Lyra herself had been down that way plenty of times, and it was safe to assume that the two stray ponies had followed it to get away from civilization and deeper inside the forest quickly.

She didn’t have any particular trouble finding the right direction. The first few times the sky was set ablaze, the blinding flash of lightning and the following boom of thunder trampled her into the ground, scaring the life out of her. However, it sufficed to let her make out the treeline off in the distance and find the familiar landmarks of particularly large trees which she could reorient herself with. It wasn’t long before the thunder became little more than a slight squint of the eyes during the flash, and the subsequent flattening of the ears in order to soften the worst of the thunderous roar.

She had to slow down to a more realistic pace as soon as she had entered the tall grass of the meadow, but still she was making good progress. The soaked stalks clunk to her like sticky tentacles, until she learned to stick to the flat leafy plants. Similarly, her boots stopped getting stuck in the mud when she realized to walk on top of densely clustered vegetation, instead of the sparsely populated earthen areas in between.

Eventually she even got the stream of water clouding her eyes under control. She pulled her hood back a little and brushed her dripping bangs to the side, creating a small channel with her mane for the water to escape down the sides of her head. Her quest was going swimmingly. Lyra actually found herself enjoying the exertion, feeling the pull of exhaustion in her limbs, feeling the air thickly pumping through her nostrils, feeling alive, driven by the sole purpose of reaching her goal.

Eventually the meadow ended. The height of the plants around Lyra dropped drastically and she entered the wide plains sprinkled sparsely with thin trees, the depths of the forest looming at the far end. Here, her pace picked up considerably.

The ground was more solid, as the plants grew more intermingled with somewhat dry earth, leaves and branches. It wouldn’t have been all too pleasant to tread the ground bare-hooved, but her boots allowed Lyra to crunch over the ground in a gallop for a few stretches. She could lessen the burden of the ever-present rain by cleverly picking her way to stay close to the increasingly dense tree trunks. This allowed her to navigate around the pittering waterfalls in between, where several sets of leafage dumped their excess water all at once.

The rest of the plantwork must have come to a similar conclusion as Lyra. The vegetation progressively crowded around the trees, with proportionally more plants cowering closeby the more massive trees and their fatter roots, leaving the ground very soft and pleasant to walk upon. Lyra even spotted annoying vines clambering against the trunks and trying to claw their way up to safety.

Cowards. Lyra would show them. She wasn’t afraid. Though she was freezing on the outside, her body kept from the inside from the steady motion. Her constant running was accentuated by the occasional climb over some obstructing rubble or a wide step over a gap, but other than that, she was doing fine. She got used to the darkness, and her immediate surroundings revealed themselves to her in recognizable outlines. Especially the plant life, which helped Lyra immensely in not ramming her face into a tree. Even further toward the horizon, the maw of the forest proper loomed like a beast threatening to swallow her in one bite.

Lyra slowed down just a bit. The premonition was now almost tangible, weighing down on the back of her head like a cap of lead. This was almost going too well. But why shouldn’t it? Something about that forest suddenly seemed very off to her. Thinking about how she would go inside and actually seeing it first-hoof were two different things entirely. What would she find in there once she reached it?

Lyra didn’t actually have to stop, she only chose to do so to collect herself for a moment. There was a very large, old tree nearby, its leaves brittle and branches flimsy compared to the now low-hanging crowns of the surrounding trees, but the trunk was very thick. The earth around it had been eroded by time, exposing its massive roots and whatever slithered and crawled underneath.

Near the center, there was a big, dark and relatively clean hole dug into the ground with precision. Maybe a fox hole, or badgers. Lyra stopped to inspect it and, after a moment, called out in greeting. She didn’t actually expect the foxes or badgers to be able, or even willing, to help or understand her, but it couldn’t hurt to try. And if not, a little company wouldn’t do her bad. She felt that pull in her chest, that desire to see another living being.

But there was no response. The hole was devoid of any inhabitants. Or maybe they were just afraid to come out. There was a pony running around in a rainstorm swinging a large knife. Maybe she should have thought this through better. Anyway, Lyra pressed on.

She marched toward the heart of the forest more cautiously now. She didn’t know where exactly the forest’s borders were drawn on the map, but by how close the trees were, she had likely already passed the threshold. The ground underneath her hooves had ceased to be even, and Lyra had to be careful to avoid debris and jagged knolls.

She became aware of the yummy earthen smells that suffused the forest air, but they weren’t any of the nice sensations that usually came with them. Instead of being appetizing and invigorating, there was a weird sour note to the aroma that bluntly overshadowed all the conventional nuances more pleasant to the nose. The heavy moisture hanging in the air made it stuffy enough to become objectionable to breathe. And to top it off, the bitter chill gave it a sharpness that ruined any potential enjoyment.

No, this wasn’t a nice atmosphere. Lyra halted for a moment to slow down her breathing. The air was actually hard to breathe and she wouldn’t be able to keep up otherwise. Where was she going anyway? Okay, let’s think for a moment.

Lyra had now entered the forest. She had followed the familiar route through the plains. Many ponies knew that route, as it was a relatively flat and painless way in and out of the forest. There were few slopes, no climbs and no rocks to surmount. For those reasons, many ponies also liked to break away at this point and circle the forest to find a better entrance further up and down its border. If you went to the left, you could walk up the gentle incline toward the plateau on top of the hill. There were lots various foods, as well as some nice and quiet groves and clearings that were popular spots for ponies seeking recreation or beautiful landscapes to paint.

On the other side, to Lyra’s right, lay the base of the hill within the massive depression in the ground that connected the forest to the wetlands further in the north. The ground was soft down there, and it carried numerous tiny streams, making the area populated with abundant growth. This was the path most often trodden by foresters and rangers on a mission, but usually wasn’t very interesting otherwise.

Of course, Parting and Teak had probably known nothing of this and had likely wandered straight into the forest right here. It was a tiny trampled path and Lyra knew where it led. It went a little downhill for a spell and then the ground broke away to the right as the side of the hill became steeper. The path continued on following the hillside, twisting upwards ever so often towards the top of the hill, before it terminated in the deep rift on the far side. That rift was Root Channel, and Lyra knew for a fact that the two had crossed it into the territory beyond.

That was where she would be heading for next. Or at least she would have. But the path that was supposed to be here didn’t exactly look accessible. What Lyra could see of the way was utterly overgrown. Between the massive trees, there were thick bushels of severe stalks and woody leaves growing in onto the little clearing from all sides.

Whatever may have been further in Lyra couldn’t exactly tell. Even if it hadn’t been so dark, visibility wasn’t very good in this part of the forest, the trees and plants were simply too close together. She could barely see the treetops between the dense wall of tree trunks above. Under her hooves, the ground was very earthen and soft, and she could feel the bulking network of roots she was treading upon. She wouldn’t even have known that it was still raining if there hadn’t been the occasional fat drop of water crashing into the ground every so often.

Lyra looked around. Further downhill the undergrowth seemed to become even worse. She couldn’t see any way to pass at all, she wouldn’t even be able to force her way past those weird lanky vines that held on to the trees and stood deep within the thicket so much like a barrier. On the other side however, in the direction upwards, it seemed to thin out somewhat. Only a few brambles and leaves remained. If Lyra strained her eyes, she could even make out a few clearings that were open in the direction she wanted to go. That seemed like a decent path to take.

Even though something was clearly weird here, she wasn’t going to get anywhere by standing around. Slowly she set her hooves in motion and cautiously picked her way further into the forest.

“Hello?” Lyra shouted, “is anypony there?” Her voice seemed way too quiet against the rumbling of the weather.

No answer. Where were all the animals? There should have been at least a small critter crossing her path or some sign of an animal hiding from her, or the hooting of an owl or anything at all. But there was nothing, apart from a bunch of stray insects that had been annoying her all the way since she had been out of the rain. Lyra felt painfully alone. This place gave her the creeps!

The trees closed in from all sides. Lyra came around a bend and passed between another pair of trees keeping the overgrowing underwood at bay. The soft ground gave way under her front hoof, but she easily caught herself without falling. This was some really nasty terrain to walk. Cautiously, she stepped forward and climbed on the flat rock that blocked her way.

She knew this rock! It could normally be seen from the pathway below, which meant she was walking parallel to it. She was on the right track, even if she couldn’t see much right now. The way darkly continued on ahead, to her sides obtrusive vegetation. Above her, the trees lost themselves in blackness, not even the scarce light from the sky able to penetrate this deeply now.

Except for that light right there.

Wait. What the hay was that?

A queer source of light, high in the treetops, gently flickering and moving and illuminating the jagged lines, that were the trees’ trunks and branches, in a cold, distant glow. It seemed to dodge the trees as it swayed left and right, coating each of the surrounding massive trees in soft brightness one after the other.

And it continuously lost in altitude. It was coming straight at Lyra.

Lyra took a cautious step backward and tensed in anticipation, until she saw the tiny glowing apparition effortlessly floating out from between the trees. It was a sprite!

“Hey there, little guy,” Lyra said, “what are you doing out here?”

It was a teeny little sprite, and a funny looking one at that. It had a small, drop-shaped body hanging from a joint, from which four flat leaves sprouted. The little thing gently spun in the air, ever rotating around its own axis, keeping itself afloat not unlike a gyrocopter. It tilted lightly to gain horizontal momentum as it flitted to and fro, its path erratic, though still overall in the general direction of Lyra. Typical of beings entirely from the magical plane, its glow was bright and cold, very much unlike the vivid and organic glimmer of unicorns.

“Why aren’t you down in the swamp?” Lyra said, “You came to the wrong forest. There are no magical plants or animals around here.”

Of course the sprite wouldn’t answer her. It couldn’t speak. It was hardly less trivial of an organism than the insects that had been buzzing about earlier. All the sprite veritably did was to follow in the arcane wake of other magical beings. It wasn’t difficult to surmise why Lyra had attracted it. Still, it felt good to actually talk to someone, or something, for once.

Even though that thing did nothing but annoyingly rotate and swim through the air. And increasingly close to Lyra while at it. Too close for comfort.

“Alright, buddy, that’s close enough,” Lyra said, stepping back once more. She climbed off the rock and cowered behind its mossy underside, trying to get some sort of blockade between her and the little flying specter, but it was no good.

Hardly impressed by what was going on around it, the sprite continued twirling in the same direction until it almost bumped into the stone. Instead, it recoiled and slightly altered its course, repeatedly trying again to overcome the obstacle from a new angle.

Much like most insects, the various kinds of sprites weren’t of much use to ponykind, in fact they were regarded as pests and annoyances. Parasprites, twittermites, and all the other vermin that had plagued Ponyville over the years. They weren’t generally gladly received by most ponies, and Lyra felt similarly. Even now, Lyra could almost feel its disgusting touch, its vulgar pull on her ethereal senses, much like a queer prickling on her skin or an indecent tug on her horn. And the sensation quickly intensified as the glowing little orb randomly bounced over the rock and made straight for her face.

“Gyaahk,” Lyra made as she jumped back, “Get away from me!” She tried to shoo it away with a hoof, but there was no way she was touching that thing, even with her boots on.

“Stop following me!” she bellowed as she made for an opening that led downhill between some trees.

Of course the thing didn’t listen. Lyra turned and wielded her machete. That’ll teach him. Emphasizing the movement with her head, she swung the weapon with its broadside at the sprite. The blade never actually touched it since the sprite just bounced away in the gust of the movement, but the machete was still large enough to give it a kick in the opposite direction. The little orb of light uncaringly twirled on as it was flung back into the night.

“Good,” Lyra said, “and now stay there. Don’t come after me.”

She turned back and rapidly began her descent into the thicket. Stupid sprite. She had more important things to do than wasting her time with its arduousness. She had to find her way through this incredible, almost maze-like growth of plants, and she had to be quick about it, since there was still quite a way ahead of her. She wasn’t making progress as fast as she had planned. How could she have known the forest would be this overgrown? What was it with all these plants anyway? And why was she still feeling the touch of that sprite all over her body?

In a half crouch, Lyra continued her way downhill. She tried to keep her balance on the crumbling soft earth as she picked her way from one passage to the next, while staying clear of the forest’s debris. She slid down an incline, jumped over a fallen log and hopped down a ledge, and then the vegetation opened up before her and permitted her into a bigger clearing.

Lyra jumped out of the brush and thankfully found herself standing on even ground again. Beneath her lay a trodden little furrow that followed the course of the hillside. It was the path that led to Root Channel! She could breathe a little easier now that she knew she had been going in the right direction.

The comfort was only brief though as Lyra looked around and found all sides of the clearing blocked off by dense flora. She was surrounded by swathes of flat leaves which formed neat walls hanging over both sides of the road almost as if to mock her. Behind the leaves, the sickly looking vines continued to clamber up the trees with a ferocity as if to tear them down.

This was just great. Against her secret hopes, Lyra wouldn’t be following this road in either direction without difficulty. To top it off, she found herself panting so hard that she couldn’t hear much else. She hadn’t really gone all that far, and she certainly wasn’t out of shape. Why did she feel like she had just finished a marathon? She knew that the moisture on her forehead now had to be mostly sweat, and she felt ready to take a break. And to top it off, her stomach was tight as a knot at the sight of these weird plants. She had a bad feeling about them, there was clearly something amiss. Something didn’t feel the way it should.

And then Lyra realized. The prickling on her skin that had reminded her of the sprite, it had been gone as soon as she had stepped out onto the road. Was it the plants? She crossed onto the other side and stood in front of one, within the masses of plants.

Its leaves were broad and dull and strangely stiff as they hung fat and heavy to form an impenetrable wall completely barring the way. Lyra raised her hoof and lifted one of the leaves. It was very dark and barely green, with a thick bright fiber running down the middle and branching twice to the left. It felt lifeless and thoroughly unfit to perform the vital duties that plants usually required from their leaves. And worst of all, it did indeed pull on Lyra’s hoof through her boot, very much like the sprite had.

Lyra swallowed hard. Even though she was sweaty and damp under her raincoat, she felt the hairs on her neck stand on end. She took a step back and tried to get her thoughts in order. Something strange was going on here. What had she gotten herself into?

Just then, a fat drop of ice cold water slammed down on her head. Lyra looked up to barely see the tree trunks vanish into the black of the night. So the rainstorm was still going on out there. At least that was something that was still normal about this whole quest. If she didn’t find anything, she could say that the bad weather had been too much of a hindrance. Not that she enjoyed the thought of returning home empty-hooved at all, but Lyra knew her limits. Right now, that seemed the only option, like it or not.

Wait.

Wait just a second.

The sky above her was midnight black. The trees were shrouded in darkness. As was the earth underneath her hooves, she could barely make out her own legs. It was only the endless masses of plants that she could see. There was no light from anywhere. And unless she had mysteriously developed night vision, there was only one explanation. Lyra blinked twice, but her fears were confirmed. The plants, they were indeed glowing.

Lyra’s heart was veritably racing now. She felt light headed, her mind was reeling. The irritation of her senses. The soft glow. These weren’t regular plants, this was some kind of magic. And wherever there was any sort of strange and potentially dangerous magic going on, that was a place where she didn’t want to be.

Driven by morbid curiosity, she stepped over to another plant. Fat, broad leaves greeted her. Way too dark except for one bright, thick fiber down the middle, branching twice to the left. And the next one. Fiber down the middle, two branches to the left. And the next one too. And the one following that. And all the ones after that.

These plants were all the same.

Enough. Get out. This place isn’t good. These horrible mockeries of nature weren’t something that Lyra could handle. She should quietly back out before she actually disturbed whatever sinister forces were responsible for this. She would get back home and report this incident and let somepony more qualified handle the situation.

She was just a normal pony after all, and nopony could expect her to know what to do here. And the consequences, well, let’s not think about that right now. She had only come in just now, and she easily could retrace her hoofsteps to get back out again. The decision wasn’t easy, but it was the only sensible course of action at the moment.

Lyra turned around, and her heart froze.

The way she had come through.

It was gone.

===

Rain was pouring down in droves onto the deserted streets. Torrents coursing down the solid walls of wood and stone, before splashing onto the roadside and joining the relentless tides tearing down alleys and walkways. The air was roiling as raindrops violently hammered onto everything that wasn’t hiding in cover, mixing the muted thumps of thatched roofs and the hollow drumming of tiles with the solid splattering of pavement and the sharp clapping of water against glass and metal when another street light flew by.

Bon Bon raced toward the town square for the second time. Her muscles were like steel as her hooves thundered over the cobblestone, splashing water every which way. Cold rain was streaming down her face in endless currents. The water was everywhere, creeping under her coat and suffusing her mane as she snorted it out of her nostrils and shook it out of her eyes.

Through gritted teeth, Bon Bon swore like nopony had ever heard her swear before. She’d had one job. One vital task upon which the lives of two ponies depended. Lyra had counted on her.

And she had screwed up.

It had seemed so simple when she had left the house behind. It had only taken a short while of cautiously feeling her way through the blackness along the trodden path until she had ran into the first of Ponyville’s street lights. From there, progress went way more smoothly. Keeping in the wind shadows of the increasingly dense buildings, Bon Bon was able to first walk, and then gallop further into town in order to hopefully find more ponies around.

She tried rapping at the first windows that weren’t pitch black. The house was familiar, Bon Bon knew the ponies who were supposed to live here, a quiet couple who did something along the lines of writing on paper and calculating with numbers. Surely they would be able to help Bon Bon out with her dilemma. Or would they?

It didn’t matter because there was no answer. Either the ponies inside were asleep with a light on, or they simply couldn’t hear her over the monumental noise swallowing up her calls. Bon Bon dropped away from the window and continued on her way. She tried another house further down. Only the fact that its door was one step above ground saved it from the streams of ice water. Bon Bon knocked, and listened to her heart thumping before she continued onward. No answer. Dark windows. She wasn’t getting anywhere with this.

But it wouldn’t have been any good anyway. They probably wouldn’t have been able to help. Who lived there anyway? Schoolfillies? Venerable storytellers? Accountants? What were they going to do, write an invoice? There had to be a better way.

A new goal came to Bon Bon’s mind, the forester’s lodge at the south end of town. Rangers, foresters and other ponies who worked the forests liked to camp out in there between shifts, and Bon Bon would surely find somepony who knew their way around the wilderness.

She had to get there without delay. Every second that ticked away meant another moment in which Lyra and Teak were stuck in whatever accursed circumstance haunted the forest. She had absolutely no time to waste trying to ask random ponies for their opinions, if they even had a clue how to handle the problem at all. No, she already knew what she needed, a capable and ready rescue team who were prepared to get started at a moment’s notice.

Every moment that passed Bon Bon grew increasingly more tense. She slipped and almost fell into the flow of water around her hooves, stumbling and righting herself before wading on. Every second was like a searing needle in the back of her head. Time was ticking, and all this took way longer than she had anticipated, but she couldn’t let herself be distracted. Just put one hoof in front of the other and follow the way.

The forester’s lodge wasn’t actually far from their house, just on the outskirts of Ponyville if she circled the town. But that path had no lights, and she couldn’t afford anything happening to herself right now. Even the side alleys were blockaded with the spindly chaos of litter and branches congregated by the torrents. There was no getting through, and the best course of action was to stick to the broad roads of town square.

Bon Bon strained against the weather. The steady drumming on her back was exhausting to the point of numbness, and she could feel the bite of cold creeping through her thick coat. She didn’t want to think about what Lyra had to be going through right now. She only had her flimsy raincoat to keep her dry, and nothing to protect her from the freeze other than that scarf.

Bon Bon prayed that nothing had happened to her. She trusted Lyra more than anypony else to be able to take care of herself even in circumstances such as this, but still, so much could go wrong. Lyra could have slipped and hurt herself, or she could have gotten lost in the forest and be frantically looking for an exit. And even then, there was a weird presence in the woods which threatened to make things even worse.

Town square came up. She recognized that arrangement of a dozen streetlights coating the world in black and gold. A bit of distraction. She didn’t want to think such horrible thoughts. But the sight of one of the familiar shops made her feel even more morose. She was reminded of her own shop, and even the worst day of sales was better than this.

At last, Bon Bon found a clear alley and was able to pass straight into the street leading south. Again, most windows were dark, but the houses were high and provided some shelter. The wind had also turned, taking it out of her face as she now ran in its direction.

With the wind in her back, Bon Bon could move much more freely. She was familiar with the houses, the crossings and the bends, the cobbles under her hooves and the facades to her sides. The last of the towering, functional buildings marked the end of Ponyville’s center, as houses transitioned into the more sprawling, familiar style of the town’s residential areas again. She even allowed herself to slow down when the junction leading to the forester’s outpost came up.

Bon Bon would actually do this. She would alarm the rugged outdoor ponies to her situation, that there were to ponies wandering around in the forest at this time, and that one of them might be hurt. She had an approximate idea where Lyra had went, and then they would form a search party and go out there. They would work their tracking magic or whatever it was that they did, and they would find her, finally restoring some peace to Bon Bon’s perpetually queasy stomach. With a bit of luck, they would even find Teak. Everything would work out. It had to.

The little range was made up of manufacturing sites related to lumber and woodwork, containing the forester’s lodge she sought. The buildings were old and weathered. They had passed the tests of weather and time, and even now provided solid stability as the storm tore at pillars and roofings. The ancient industry was an alive relic of an older Ponyville, indomitable and steadfast. Bon Bon wanted nothing more than to hold on to the purchase and claw her way out of her own personal storm.

No less so a remnant from the past was the bottleneck between two squat buildings constricting the road, which one had to pass between before entering the area. As was one of its inhabitants, a stringy old stallion who had been an esteemed local artisan for many years. Bon Bon had never managed to remember his name. Surrounded by turbulent darkness, one of the houses stood with lit windows, and a red ember glowing in the night. It was him, smoking his pipe outside the front door, enjoying the calamity.

The old stallion watched Bon Bon shoot straight for the passage. Only when he realized that she wasn’t slowing down did he casually take a step to the side and out of her way. He expertly waited until she stumbled on the slippery slope.

“Where are you headed at so late an hour, young lady?” he croaked.

“No time,” Bon Bon gasped, “I need to get to the rangers.”

“The rangers?” the stallion said, “I’m afraid you’ll be disappointed, young lady. There’s nopony here.”

Bon Bon’s hooves skidded to a halt, as did her thoughts. “What?” She said.

“As you’ll recall, it’s sunday,” he said, biting down on his pipe, “and even my old grandma knew not to work on a sunday.”

As calm as he had seemed before, the old geezer ducked back into the doorway when Bon Bon reared up with a scream of frustration. It was sunday! She had known that! No, no, no! How could she have forgotten. She didn’t work on sundays herself, nopony worked on sundays except on the market. The forester’s lodge was empty. There was nopony there. No help. The windows were pitch black.

Bon Bon felt the onset of panic return stronger than ever. The raging tempest pulled her back in as her hooves slipped from the purchase.

“Argh,” she grunted, stomping her hoof against the cobbles until her shins hurt, “No! This was supposed to work! Who will go to the forest with me now?” Would she be forced to go and try her luck in the forest alone? What a pathetic excuse for a rescue party that would be.

“Now calm down, young lady,” the old stallion said, “I’m sure it isn’t as bad as you … uh …” He shut up when Bon Bon looked ready to jump at his throat. “Well, how about this,” he continued, “You go visit the constable. She’s a nice pony, and she’s bound to have somepony around who can help you.”

The constabulary. There were always ponies there, and they had to be somepony around who was a proficient ranger of the wild. Yes. The prospect was the only life belt in the raging world. This had to work.

“Yes,” Bon Bon said as she turned around and started galloping. The old guy was soon swallowed by the storm again, and his red ember only hung around a little while longer before following.

The rain hammered her in the face as Bon Bon ran up the same alley again where she had come from. But she couldn’t care less. The constabulary lay past town hall, on the northern side of Ponyville, in the vicinity of some other administrative buildings. She had to get there as fast as possible, and the rainstorm wouldn’t stop her now. It was good that she had come along this way once already, because she knew exactly which turns to take when, and how to best dodge the streetlights and wagons that were placed on the sides. The familiarity was her advantage. It allowed her to waste no time to … well …

What the heck was she doing anyway? She had been wandering around town for what must have been an hour now and had turned up nothing! She had promised to gather a search party to come help Lyra in the forest, but she was still with empty hooves. She didn’t know where to find anypony that was capable of helping her, the town was deserted because it was in the middle of the night, and Bon Bon herself wasn’t more than a mere hoofnote in the grand symphony of chaos the storm was bringing down upon the lands.

And all she had to go on was the fact that somepony might be at the constabulary who may or may not be able to help her. The constable and her gang were nice ponies for sure, but Bon Bon couldn’t be sure they even possessed the skills necessary for a search party, let alone that they hadn’t taken the liberty to get drunk and hold a late-night festivity, because nopony in their right mind would get themselves into trouble at this hour anyway.

Why did this have to be so difficult? This wasn’t the point where her quest was supposed to fail. What kind of rescue mission was this if she couldn’t even get to the forest? Lyra was out there all alone, for Celestia’s sake. If something happened to Lyra due to her ineptitude, Bon Bon would never be able to forgive herself.

Bon Bon had to carry on, there was no other choice. If not for herself, then for Lyra. Lyra was the one who had gone out there to help without batting an eye, she deserved to get away from all of this unscathed the most. And Bon Bon would see to that it happened so.

If it was the torrential rain or her burgeoning tears that she tried to blink out of her eyes, Bon Bon didn’t know, but her vision wouldn’t clear. Behind the clouding veil she saw the distorted configuration of bright lights, her familiar street lamps as she came up to town square a second time. Her hooves thundered over the cobblestone, sending the water splashing every way. Her limbs hurt not only from the exertion, but even more from the biting cold that chilled her to the bone.

The rain was everywhere, it had crept under her coat and into her fur and her mane, she had to spit it out of her mouth and snort it out of her nose. But Bon Bon was beyond pain, beyond reason. Every second she left Lyra out there alone to endure these calamitous conditions only further served to fuel her anger, anger at the world and at herself, recklessly driving her on to right what seemed hopelessly lost.

Dark walls and black windows was all that greeted her when Bon Bon crossed town square. This time, she had to run right through the wide plaza to reach the alleys on the far side that would bring her into the northern parts of Ponyville.

Not long ago had this place been bustling with life, ponies working, selling, buying or simply enjoying all the sensory pleasures that were on display. Now, all that was left was the endless pittering of the rain onto barren streets and the howling of the wind between desolate trees. The patches of grass and gardens that served as recreational spots had turned to messy heaps overflowing with muddy water. The storefronts had been evacuated and sealed off in preparation of the weather.

Luckily, Bon Bon never had anything on display on the outside of her own shop. She missed her shop, craved for a bit of normalcy. But she had no time for a visit. There was way more on the line here than just herself. If Bon Bon failed Lyra now, how would she ever be able to come back to this? How would she be able to look at herself? She had always thought herself fighting the good fight against all odds, but really, had she ever had the option of giving up?

Water sprayed off one of the flat buildings at the edge of town square, and Bon Bon had to duck her head to get past it and into one of the alleys leading away. The current around her hooves had now built up noticeably as all the water was forced through the thin passages. Even worse, the water had lodged piles of debris and branches all over the place, which Bon Bon could only mount slowly and carefully without boots. She couldn’t be inattentive. One slip might mean the end of her journey.

Finally, Bon Bon emerged into the icy shower of the open sky again. Before her rumbled the river, carrying tremendous masses of water that had gathered from all over the landscape. The watermill was vacant as well, its wheel spinning freely with its mechanism unhooked, or else the raging tide would have torn it right off.

Bon Bon followed the river to the closest bridge. Though Bon Bon could hardly see the river, she could feel the stone pillars veritably vibrating from the forces of what must have been half an ocean passing between them.

Across the bridge, the road opened up. It was the wide alley, sparsely populated with patches of well tended vegetation and no less well tended buildings. Most ponies walked here regularly to get some administrative work done in one of the pretty governmental buildings located all around the spacious plaza. Or they simply went to pay the town hall a visit and have a chat with the mayor, which often wasn’t without ulterior motives, but the mayor always emphasized that she had an open ear for everypony.

Town hall was looming in the darkness, stately despite being empty as well. The large, round building stood fast against the forces of nature, the glistening water flowing down its walls. As Bon Bon ran past it, the beating of her heart drowned out everything. Her hooves were trembling, partly from exhaustions, but mostly from anxiety.

The constabulary was at the end of this road. There was no turning back now, there hadn’t been in a while. And since no better idea had presented itself, grasping at straws was all that she had. This was her last chance. Knocking on random doors was no longer an option. It was too late for that. No, she had to find help here. It was the only thing she could pray for.

And then, Bon Bon was stopped in her tracks by the spectacle that emerged from the rain.

The enormous tree had infinitely complex branches swirling elegantly into the night. It’s trunk was massive and provided the unfaltering foundation for a crown that bustled with a myriad of leaves that turned and waved, perfectly aligning themselves with the flow of the wind and the force of the rain. Every one of the tree’s limbs branched off to support another, weaving in and around each other to form a solid rampart that couldn’t be as much as touched by the fury of the storm.

The tree, it was alive, indomitably protecting itself and its inhabitants. The little door at its base, the windows along its trunk and the small balcony at the top, they were unblemished as if they couldn’t care any less. The magic of the place was so strong, Bon Bon could feel it warm her from the inside even as she merely stood and stared.

And even more importantly, all the windows were lit brightly. It was the library! Home of Twilight Sparkle, Princess Celestia’s chosen unicorn and one of Ponyville’s sharpest thinkers. Whenever something went wrong, she was there to help to the best of her abilities, which were genuinely impressive. And things usually worked out in the end whenever she was around. If there was anypony who could help Bon Bon, then it had to be Twilight.

Bon Bon had already taken a pensive step toward the library, but now was confident. The friendly tree home was brimming with knowledge and power, and it invited her to come closer and share her troubles. Bon Bon just knew she was on the right track.

Funny little plants increasingly sprinkled the ground as she walked up to the tree. Some sprouted buds in long twirly spirals that happily squeezed and bounced in the rain as if it were their favourite. Others had grown large pods which they had closed around themselves as protection against the weather, giving the lawn a look not unlike a field of clams. Even the tree house itself had developed spiraling shapes and gnarly branches around the angular outlines of the doors and windows, incorporating them robustly into its trunk. The reason for all this magic was probably to no small part one certain inhabitant of the tree house library.

Bon Bon stepped up to the door. Torch light flickered in the windows, but she could see nopony in the entry hall. She had to make sure to be heard. She sharply rapped at the door with the edge of her hoof, as hard as she could for longer than necessary, and then she rapped some more.

“Yoohoo,” came from above. Up on the balcony, under the cover of dense and heavy leaves, stood a shape, leaning over the railing. The pony shone brightly in the yellow light through the exit, her luscious curly mane forced into bundle by means of a skeletal hairdresser’s contraption. It was … Rarity?

“Bon Bon, is that you, darling?” Rarity called after a moment of recognition, “Whatever are you doing out there in that appalling weather?” She waved her hoof invitingly. “Why don’t you come inside? You must be freezing! Applejack, Twilight and I were having a sleepover, you know, for old times’ sakes, what with the storm going on and all. It’d be wonderful to have a change of pace, the others keep insisting on having these dreadful pillow fights …”

“Rarity!” Bon Bon interrupted, “I’m so glad to see you! Please, I need help. Something terrible has happened! I need Twilight! Go get her, I beg you.”

It took Rarity a moment, but her demeanor cooled quickly. Without further delay, she stepped away from the railing and went back into the house, calling out Twilight’s name.

Rarity’s fortitude was astounding. There she looked like having the time of her life, but she effortlessly regained her composure the moment the situation had demanded it. Bon Bon found herself staring at the empty balcony in awe, but she quickly shook herself out of her stupor. There would be time for silent admiration later, now she had to act.

Bon Bon had raised her dripping hoof to push open the door, but before she could even touch it, it swung open. She only just managed to recoil from Twilight Sparkle’s onrushing face, barely avoiding a collision. Twilight hardly seemed to care that she was almost standing on top of Bon Bon, as the words eagerly rushed out of her cream-covered muzzle.

“What’s going on? What happened?” Twilight said. She smelled intensely sharp and sweet, though Bon Bon couldn’t tell whether it was from the beautifying green ointment on her brow or the residue from the obviously hasty teleportation.

“Oh my, you look terrible,” Twilight observed.

“I, uh … never mind that,” Bon Bon said, “Twilight, I need your help! Lyra went out into the forest. Somepony got lost in there, and she’s looking for him. But there is also a magical monster or whatever in there, and I fear she’s in great danger! The other pony, she returned from the forest and found us, and she was the one who looked terrible! She said that the forest was overgrown with a lot of weird plants, and that she had a bad feeling when she went in there. They got lost together, her coltfriend and herself, but they got separated, and ... oh no! I should have never let Lyra go in there alone!”

“Now hold on there for a minute! Calm down,” Applejack said. Bon Bon was immediately snapped back into focus. Applejack had come down the stairs to join them. She didn’t seem to wear any beautifying artifacts of her own, though somepony had lost a cucumber slice in close proximity to her hooves. “Which forest is it that you’re talking about?”

“Whitetail woods,” Bon Bon answered effortlessly. Applejack’s words were like the blackest of coffee. Their sound was smooth, but her speech was also direct and with purpose. Applejack had worked wonders in helping Bon Bon regain her cool.

“Whitetail woods?” Rarity aid. She had followed behind Applejack into the library’s big hall, pulling complicated sticks out of her mane. “I was under the assumption there was no magical vegetation in whitetail woods, is that not right?”

“That’s correct, usually, which is all the more cause for concern,” Twilight answered over her shoulder, before turning back to Bon Bon, “It would be the best if you just told us what happened, and slowly from the beginning.”

Bon Bon nudged Twilight lightly, who took the hint and quickly ducked backwards. Bon Bon stepped inside to enjoy the sweet warmth of civilization for a brief moment, finally out of the cursed rain.

“Yesterday afternoon,” she recounted as she shook off her hood, relishing the dry air in her ears, “Lyra and I saw a couple strolling through the meadow behind our house and into the forest. We thought nothing of it at first. But in the night, we were woken by a shouting so terrible, we were able to hear it over the rainstorm. We looked outside, and it was one of the ponies we saw! Her name’s Parting Ways. She looked absolutely downtrodden, dirty and exhausted. She told us that they had gotten lost and had been wandering around the forest all the time. There were strange plants growing in the forest, and they had been able to feel some magical presence. But then they had gotten separated, and she had stumbled out of the forest alone, desperate for help to find her coltfriend. His name’s Teak. Lyra went in alone. That was maybe an hour ago. I’m supposed to find somepony capable of mounting a rescue mission to come after her.” There was a glimmer of desperate hope. “Twilight, can’t you just alert all of Ponyville’s pegasi to fly in, find them and get them out?”

“Bad idea, sugarcube,” Applejack said, “First of all, no pegasus is going to be able to fly in such weather. The rain’s way too severe, not to mention the risk of injury by hail or lightning. It just ain’t happening.”

“Good thinking, Applejack,” Twilight said, furrowing her brow, “Flying is out of the question. But we could rouse the constable, and probably the fire brigade, to organize a large-scale search. We’ll have them found pretty quickly, even if we only approximately know where they are.”

“That’s even worse, Twilight,” Applejack continued, “you can’t send that many ponies out there in these conditions. Not only does it seem dangerous, but the risk of losing even more ponies along the way, it’s way too high. The safest way of doing this is with as few skilled ponies as possible.”

“Not only that,” Rarity added, “but what about the magical threat? It could put a halt to all of our efforts if dealt with improperly. I doubt there is anypony more qualified than you, Twilight, in handling situations of this kind.”

“You are right, Rarity. Hmmm… ” Twilight made, rubbing her chin. Her gaze wandered from Rarity, who had finished extracting the styling apparatus from her mane, over Applejack, who looked like she knew what was coming next, to Bon Bon, who felt as misplaced as a wet dog with a soaking rag over her back. Twilight’s eyes soon lit up.

“You know what,” she said determinedly, “I think I do have a way we could find them if we went out into the forest. And who better to undertake this quest than us, right? Rarity, I need your magical capabilities. Will you join me?”

“I’ll always be there when you need me, Twilight, darling,” Rarity said, though not without a disappointed glance toward her freshly styled curls.

“Wonderful,” Twilight said, “Applejack, your strength and knowledge of the wild are unmatched. Are you ready?”

“You know I was born ready, Twilight,” Applejack said.

“Bon Bon,” Twilight continued, “you are the key the finding the lost ponies. With your help, I think I can get us to them quickly.”

“Anything to find Lyra,” Bon Bon said hastily.

“Excellent,” Twilight said, lifting her hoof between the other ponies, “girls, we have ourselves an adventure!”

Applejack and Rarity bumped Twilight’s hoof in a gesture of companionship. Bon Bon just stared incredulously. But before she could ask whether they were even taking this seriously, the others scattered off into the library. While Applejack and Rarity went to get their and Twilight’s boots, Twilight herself trotted into a corner and scanned the bookshelves for something in particular.

Still bootless, and almost hopeless, Bon Bon only stood in the entrance, mouth open without saying something, unsure of what to do. While waiting for the others, most of her being was concentrated on taking in as much of the fleeting warmth as possible. She wanted nothing more than to find the hearth, lay down in front of it and fall into a dragon’s sleep. But her night was far from over yet. Soon she would have to say bye bye to the library. Bye bye books, bye bye warmth, bye bye light. Bye bye funny little spiral plants. Hello hail, and wind, and thunder.

Bon Bon prayed she had chosen well.