The train shuddered and creaked as it ground to a halt, and in the berths of the sleeping cars, pony eyes blinked open in alarm. It was night-time, but even for night-time it seemed far too dark, the air felt strangely still, the outside sounded strangely quiet.
A light glowed, then two, inside the berths. The first was the gleam of a unicorn horn, and the second was a candle flame.
Two heads poked out from the curtains of their berths.
“Rarity? That you, sugar?”
“Applejack! I didn’t know you had signed up for the journey to Istanhoof!”
Applejack clambered out of the bunk, holding the candle in her teeth, with a wary eye toward the flame for fear it would singe her blonde mane, which sprawled over her shoulders without its usual hair-tie.
“Well, I know it ain’t usual for me, but them tickets turned up for sale and how could I refuse? I never saw foreign parts before! It’s only a weekend, after all!”
“I think it’s charming that you’re willing to broaden your horizons, I just didn’t know you were here! I thought I was the only one. Why didn’t you say something?”
“I was mighty tired,” said Applejack. “Worked ahead to make time. I was asleep.”
“But this is delightful! We shall see the sights together! I rather thought I would have that experience to myself!” said Rarity.
“Nopey dopey!”
Two pony heads whipped around. A pink head peeked cheerfully out of another sleeping berth and gave a big smile.
Rarity’s eye twitched, and she produced an even bigger smile, with some effort. “Ahaha! I see. We shall have even more of an experience than I had imagined!”
A voice came from another berth. “If thou could’st pray desist thine fooling around and making noise so assembled ponydom might sleep!”
Applejack gulped. “Yep, more of an experience. Well, we best get back to bed, that there’s Princess Luna and I can’t be held responsible if…”
“Applejack…” said Rarity. “If I might draw your attention for just a tiny moment? The train isn’t moving.”
“Whut?” said Applejack.
“Pipe thy cursed chatter down, prithee, or thy princess shall become exceeding cross!”
Rarity’s magic tugged the curtains from Luna’s berth, rewarded with a cranky noise worthy of Twilight Sparkle. “Princess, we may have a serious problem. The train’s stopped. Something happened.”
Luna stuck her head out into the corridor as well, her mane a fuzzy wash of blurred color. “Thou risketh the most extreme displeasure a princess can bestow!”
“Oh gosh,” said Applejack. “Rarity, whyn’cha let her sleep, huh?”
“Listen,” said Rarity. They did, and the silence was oppressive. They looked out the window, and the blackness was strange—there was no distance to it. Rarity kindled a brighter magical light, and it was plain what had happened. The train was encased in snow.
“This ain’t good,” said Applejack. “Seein’ as you were right about the problem and all, Rarity, mind explainin’ what happened here?”
“Oh no!” squeaked Pinkie Pie. “The snow weasels!”
“The snow what now?”
“Snow weasels! Obviously!” cried Pinkie Pie. “They come and bury you in snow forever! This is awful, but thank goodness, I know what to do. If you…”
“Does it involve a party in any way?” asked Rarity.
Pinkie stopped. Her lip quivered.
“It do, don’t it?” said Applejack. “Your idea of fixin’ this ain’t to dig us out, it’s to throw a party?”
“Not exactly,” said Pinkie. “Maybe a little bit? If you just trust me, this time it will make perfect sense! I need some paper!”
“You need paper?” said Rarity. “Let me get this straight. Plain old paper? For a fire, perhaps?”
“No no no! That would ruin it! And not plain old paper, at all! It should be pretty paper. You know, with decorations on it?”
“You are gonna throw a party, ain’t you?” said Applejack.
Luna had emerged from her bunk, and joined them, sleepy-eyed and bed-headed. The glow from her horn joined that of Rarity’s, and was enough light that Applejack put her candle down and extinguished its flame with a careful hoof.
“Before thou cavortest, mine subject, pray enlighten us regarding our plight?”
“Huh?” said Pinkie.
Luna sighed, and shook her head. “Thy… um.. we are… I am sorry, I will try again. When rising from our bed we must needs resort to familiar diction… before you party, may you please tell us of our plight?”
“We’ve already got a plight,” said Pinkie, “thanks to you and Rarity! I don’t think we need it much plighter in here, though!”
“Problem, darling. She means ‘problem’,” said Rarity. “You mentioned snow weasels. Are those what have captured us?”
“Well, duh!” said Pinkie. “Isn’t it obvious?”
“Mayhap, if we are encased in snow, we must needs melt it? We could… that is, we meaning all of us, not we as in myself, could make a fire.”
Pinkie listened politely to the Princess’s idea without batting an eyelash, and turned, unperturbed. “Applejack, I’ll need your hat.”
“Whut?” snapped Applejack. “Y’all makin’ a fire with paper and my hat? No way, missy! It won’t even burn that good! Think of somethin’ else.”
“Oh, all right! I’ll try. But it’s snow time, you know? It’s just the most obvious thing,” said Pinkie.
“If the most obvious thing is settin’ my hat on fire, I would hate to see your crazier ideas—jes’ sayin’!”
Rarity’s horn flared brighter. “We shall dig our way out! Applejack, do you feel rested? You may be the strongest of us.”
“Dig?” scoffed Pinkie Pie. “It’s snow time!”
Applejack’s chin lifted. “Mos’ likely!”
“Would you be a darling, and dig for us, please?”
Applejack went to the side door of the train car, and glanced back at Rarity. “Y’all could be helpin’, you know.”
“There may not be room for all of us,” said Rarity, “and do you really need our help, a strong, brave earth pony like you?”
“A strong, brave earth pony who figures she’s bein’ manipulated,” said Applejack. “But y’all just sit tight. It’s okay, I’ll have us out of here in a jiffy. Speakin’ of earth ponies, how about Pinkie give me a hoof, then?”
There was shocked silence, as Pinkie… clapped, with a cranky expression on her face.
“Now see here!” snapped Applejack. “What has got into you? Joke’s over, y’all come and help dig, okay?”
“No! Weren’t you listening? It’s snow weasels! We’re in snow time!” cried Pinkie. “Don’t you know what that means?”
Applejack stared at her, astonished. “I suppose I don’t. What the hay does that mean, then?”
“It means I still need pretty wrappings! Princess Luna, we’re so lucky you’re here! Take off your nightgown, quick!”
The other ponies stared at Pinkie in horror.
“What?” said Pinkie. “It’s not that kind of fic! Sheesh! Be serious!”
“That kinda what now?”
Princess Luna did indeed have pretty wrappings—though her mane was a cloud of luminous fuzz without the distinct gradations of brushed hair, her body was swathed in a sheer nightgown, translucent, with moons and stars printed upon the delicate fabric. She stared at Pinkie, aghast. “A mad pony wishest us to strip naked? What be the purpose? Nay, prithee do not answer! Some things shall sully the air of neither day nor my beloved night!”
“Easy there, Princess…” reassured Applejack, while Rarity glared at Pinkie.
“Behave!” ordered the fashion unicorn, and Pinkie stared back at them all as if they had gone mad, before flouncing over to her bunk and jumping in with a cry of “Fine!”
“I think we best get our butts out of here before this turns ugly,” said Applejack. “Here we go…”
She pulled open the door, using the convenient pull-ring for equine teeth, and was greeted by a blank wall of snow, at which she grinned. Rearing, Applejack struck with her forehooves, chopping down fiercely to knock a spray of snow onto the floor beneath her, and blasting snow across the inside of the train for good measure—including over Luna and Rarity, who cried out in different styles of dismay, spattered with cold, wet snow.
Applejack glanced at them. “Sorry! I’ll try ta…”
As the unicorn and alicorn glared at her, their horns aglow, all the snow disappeared from their persons, as if it had never existed.
“There you go! That wasn’t so hard, was it? I promise I’ll be more careful, but that got me a big ol’ start.” Applejack noticed that the snow had been removed from her person as well. “Mighty charitable of you. Now let me jes’… oop!”
The wall of snow was back to its previous, untouched state. Applejack whirled on Rarity and Luna.
“Now see here! I’m mighty sorry I got snow on your precious manes an’ all, but some ponies are tryin’ to do a job of work here, and I do not appreciate your un-doing that work just to teach me a lesson! You could have put it behind me, like I will have to start doin’, but you just had to go puttin’ it back jes’ to…”
“Applejack!” snapped Rarity. “We didn’t. Did you do that, Luna?”
“Indeed, we did nothing! We thought thou had tidied us! Thou did not?”
“Oh…” said Rarity. “I could get used to living a thousand years ago, did you know that? I would love to talk this way more often.”
Luna looked at her sadly. “Thou would… you would not like the price of it, Rarity. But… I like, that you like it.”
“That’s nice and all,” said Applejack, “but if you din’t put the snow back, who did?”
“I told you!” came a voice from Pinkie’s bunk. “Didn’t I tell you about the snow weasels? This is snow time!”
“Snow time?” said Applejack.
Pinkie’s head stuck out of the bunk. “Snow time! Time has stopped. It doesn’t matter how much you dig, because as soon as you stop, the snow’s time goes back to what it was when you started.”
Applejack’s eyes flashed. “Wal, then—if that’s how they want it! I won’t stop!” And, before anyone could react, she had attacked the wall of snow again, heedless of the mess, demolishing it with her hooves and forcing herself up into the hole she made, like a pony snowblower burrowing into the solid wall of whiteness.
Pinkie’s jaw dropped, and she stared in horror as the snow flew, and then she let out a piercing shriek. “No! Stop her! Make her not do that!”
Rarity whirled, startled by Pinkie’s sudden horror. “What? What is it, dear? It looks like she’s doing awfully well, why stop her?”
Pinkie’s eyes were desperate. “Because if she’s in that, and pauses for even a moment…”
The hole vanished. The blank wall of snow stood in its place. Pinkie screamed.
“Heavens!” cried Rarity. “Princess, can you dig?”
“We are not sure! Oh!” cried Luna, for Pinkie had shoved past her and was digging frantically at the wall of snow, weeping.
“Out of the way, Pinkie!” cried Rarity. When this didn’t help, she added, “Princess, pull her out of the way!”
“We may not be strong enough!”
“Do your best!” said Rarity. She dragged Pinkie away from the wall of snow, into the grasp of Luna, and stood glaring down the white expanse, as her horn flared into incandescence. It would be like digging in the ground—but perhaps with a twist like the way one heat-sealed delicate fabrics before stitching…
A hole appeared in the snow, and grew larger. Luna and Pinkie stared, and then Luna was able to join Rarity in the magical excavation, for Pinkie could see something was being done, and held back rather than flinging herself at the wall.
“Oh, hurry, hurry!” she pleaded.
The unicorn and alicorn persisted, gouts of snow filling the interior of the train, and then Rarity cried, “I’ve got her! Just a bit more, Princess!”
“Get her hat! Don’t forget her hat!” yelled Pinkie desperately.
“Well, all right, darling,” said Rarity, “there!”
Down through the hole in the snow slid Applejack’s chilled body, followed by her hat, which Pinkie pounced on.
“You poor brave thing!” cried Rarity, hugging Applejack, who coughed and started to breathe again, shivering. She opened her eyes, and Rarity hugged her more, because it was plain that being buried alive in snow hadn’t looked like a nice way to die. Applejack’s heart was pounding, and she looked dazed and terrified.
Rarity looked around for Pinkie Pie, only to see a shocking sight. Pinkie had Applejack’s hat under her hoof. She had Luna’s nightgown in her teeth, and she was trying to rip it off Luna’s body, while Luna protested, “Cease, mad pony, do not entertain designs upon the royal person! You know not what you do! Do not force us to resort to stern measures!”
She had the full Royal Canterlot Voice going, but it was to no avail—Pinkie set her jaw and only pulled harder, snarling “This has gone far enough!”
“It is thee who goest too far entirely!”
Pinkie spat out the nightdown and confronted Luna. “Now listen! You obviously don’t know anything about snow weasels, okay? I let Applejack try to fix this, and you and Rarity have tried to fix this, and it’s getting dangerous! My friend could have died from your foolishness! Before anybody gets hurt, I’m telling you it’s my turn, and we’re going to fix this my way!”
“Thou insolent…” began Luna, who was not accustomed to being accused of foolishness, but a certain small sound stopped her. Applejack had cleared her throat.
“Wait, sugarcube, okay?”
They waited, while Applejack took a breath. She did sound as if she’d nearly died, but she spoke to Pinkie anyhow.
“I see you got my hat, din’cha, Pinkie?”
“Yes,” said Pinkie Pie. “I’m sorry, but it was necessary!”
“And y’all tryin’ to get Luna’s nightie, there? P’raps for kindlin’?”
“And she’s arguing, and this is important!” squeaked Pinkie indignantly.
“Important? We protest that escaping this prison of snow is important!” said Luna.
“Hold on a minute,” said Applejack. She coughed, and went on. “Those of us who have lived in Ponyville a long time have learned to trust Pinkie Pie here. Now, that’s a right nice nightie you got there. But my hat ain’t jes’ a nice hat—it’s my hat, honey, and that means something, or it should. Now, I don’t know what that nightie means to you, Princess, but we’re jes’ folks and we seen you without it before… and if you’re attached to it, y’all listen up good here and learn.”
Applejack gulped. Tears came to her eyes. “Pinkie—to save us all—you may burn my… hat.” She squeezed her eyes shut, and Rarity hugged her again.
“It’s important that it’s a nice hat!” said Pinkie Pie. She turned to Luna. “Well?”
Luna gazed at her with narrowed, suspicious eyes. “Thou mad pink wretch.”
“Nopey dopey! I only retch if the baked goods are baked bads! Now come on, Black Snooty. If Applejack can do it, you can! Trust Aunt Pinkie!” Her mood had bounced back with typical briskness, and her eyes twinkled with merriment.
“Princess… Applejack is correct,” said Rarity. “I realize it seems… well, crazy, but there may be something to this. Perhaps it is about natural, rather than magical fire such as we might produce? Or it is a fire made from clothing that is the key?”
“Nope!” said Pinkie. “Come on, we’ve been stuck here long enough!”
Luna continued to stare at Pinkie, and then her horn glowed, and the nightgown lifted from her elegant body, into the air where it folded itself into shimmering layers and then drifted over in front of Pinkie Pie. Pinkie’s eyes gleamed with satisfaction, which wasn’t even daunted when Luna dropped the nightgown on the floor in front of her with a contemptuous flourish.
“Show us, then,” said Princess Luna.
Pinkie nodded. She took Applejack’s hat. “It’s important that it’s such a nice hat. It makes it more meaningful,” she said. She then took the nightgown, looking at it critically, unfolding it with nudges and grabbing the edges with her teeth, folding it around the hat.
“Applejack’s hair is down. Can somebody look in her bunk for… never mind!”
Pinkie scampered over and began tugging at Applejack’s tail.
“Uh, honey… y’all trying to strip us all the nakedest ever, or somethin’?”
“That’s just a bonus!” replied Pinkie, and scooted back to the hat and nightgown, bearing her new prize—the ribbon Applejack used as a tail-tie. She looped it around, pulling it taut between teeth and a forehoof, and then grabbed the bundle she’d made with her teeth and trotted towards the blank wall of snow. She dropped it on the floor, and grinning merrily at the snow-wall, she nudged the hat wrapped in nightgown and tied with tail-tie… into the snow.
Nothing happened. She nudged it again, her grin going forced.
“Smile!” she hissed to the others. Confused beyond reason, they put on awkward smiles as well, and Pinkie beamed with pleasure, turned, beamed at the snow-wall, and nudged the hat against it once more—and this time, it went in.
The ponies’ jaws dropped as they watched. It was like the bundle phased through the wall as if it wasn’t there, though to them it had been a cold, dangerous obstacle.
Pinkie Pie bounced with glee, and stared expectantly at the wall of snow—and, suddenly, it was gone. They all caught a glimpse of the hat and nightgown dropping out of sight outside the door of the train, and then Pinkie had bounded through the door and was back with their things in her teeth.
She tossed her improvised package onto the floor before them, and chirped “All done!”
“But…” said Rarity.
“Thou miraculous fool! Er… not that I mean that in a bad way…”
“How’d you do that?” snapped Applejack. “What’d it do? Did it do anything to my hat?”
“It had to be your hat!” said Pinkie. “I’m sorry. We didn’t have anything else valuable! Not really, really valuable, anyway!”
“Yeah, but… look, I am awful grateful you got us out of this, Pinkie, but what the hay was all that about? What did you do?”
“Weren’t you listening?” said Pinkie. “Don’t you know anything about snow weasels? I told you it was snow weasels, I know I did! Didn’t the fact that it was snow weasels give you any kind of a hint? I guess not! And gosh, it was good that I was there, if nobody knew anything about snow weasels, because who knows what might have happened if I wasn’t?”
Applejack shook her head, as if to clear it. “All right. All right! Jes’ pretend for a second that we don’t know nothin’ about no snow weasels. What is it that you know about snow weasels, then?”
Pinkie Pie blinked cutely—and explained.
“Their snow time likes a present!”
Jaws dropped. There was a horrified silence. Then, Rarity’s gaze met Applejack’s.
“We shall never speak of this again.”
“Got it,” replied the country pony, deeply shaken.
