Pony Stories

Octavia stood on the empty stage in the concert hall filled with hundreds of ponies. She removed her bow from the strings of the bass. The final note echoed. A second of silence and then came the thunderous clapping from the audience. She closed her eyes and bowed, her hair slipping over her shoulder. She rose back up as the curtains closed. Octavia had just finished her first solo concert in the Canterlot Royal Music Hall. She had been waiting her whole life for that moment, ant it was over. She quietly dragged her bass backstage and placed it in its rack. The smell of polished wood and rosin filled the air. She sat there, backstage, thinking and smelling the air. It was a beautiful smell. She closed her eyes again, remembering her first concert. She was a little filly, playing the cello. She got her cutie mark that day. But she discovered the beautiful, deep, pure sound of a bass. She fell in love with it. She had played the bass her whole life. She kept to herself, she didn't need anyone but her bass. Her parents worried, but she didn't care. She loved music. She only cared about music. Her heart, her soul, every part of her was held together with that simple word.