Magic of Little Blueberry’s Love

In the forest, whose name they never learned, Myrtle did her magic with a kettle containing their peacefully boiling supper. Borlena knew how not to betray her presence, and Jam noticed nothing unusual about his wife’s behavior, except her weird obsession with the idea that their foals needed to be born in Las Pegasus or, at least, near it. It was supposed to give them some privileges. For this reason she had taken him away from home a month and a half before and now she used this argument every time he suggested going back home. If he insisted, his wife’s eyes started burning with such rage that Jam always preferred to change the subject. But he was homesick and missed Blueberry more and more every day. It was like a heavy stone pressing upon his heart. Every morning he tried to gather up his courage and talk to his wife on the banned subject, but every time, fearing Myrtle’s wrath, postponed the all-important talk till the next day.

Jam had never heard of any privileges for those born in Las Pegasus, even though he was deemed one of the most educated ponies in his village and even subscribed to a Canterlot newspaper. And why go so soon if the little ones would be born months from now? Mares bear their foals for 11 months, and only two of them had passed, so what’s the point in torturing themselves with this primitive forest life? Winter was about to come, adding to their problems. Of course, they were real northerners and didn’t fear cold, but pregnant Myrtle needed warmth and comfort.

‘Er… darling’ started Jam, dropping yet another bundle of brushwood near their campfire.

‘Yes, dear?’ Myrtle’s eyes sparkled with approaching rage.

‘Er… nothing’ Jam gave in yet again. Just as Shining Armor was unbelievably blind to the obvious changes in Cadance before their wedding, so was Jam to the completely altered character of his usually so gentle, caring wife, who had never before shown the slightest signs of anger or raised her voice at anypony. If sometimes the unusual intonation surprised him, he put it down to her pregnancy – it was well known that pregnant mares could behave weirdly.

When he went shopping to Las Pegasus he put on a wide-brimmed hat and some strange, old-fashioned clothes that covered him almost entirely. Myrtle insisted on such disguise. This was another banned subject – whenever Jam tried to discuss it, Myrtle would have a fit of rage. So Jam submitted, even though this outfit made him feel like a fool. But what wouldn’t one do for the sake of the beloved wife and the mother of his future foals?

There was a sudden noise at a distance – a very odd noise. Myrtle’s body strained; she huddled up as if gigantic wasps swarmed around her, ready to attack. The noise was similar to a stream of air cut through with something big and heavy. An air chariot could advertise itself this way. Soon the noise subsided. ‘I’ll go look what it is’ Jam said.