Alright, Tailwind, alright. Hush now. Papa's here.
That's better. Now, what's been troubling you, my darling, and why am I the only one who can help?
Oh. Well, truth be told, I don't want me to leave either. But I have to, for all our sakes.
Why? Have I really never told you that story? Well, shame on me. I tell you what; I tell you why breezies go get pollen from Equestria, and you go to bed, and in the morning, I'll be sure to give you a great big hug, just like this one!
Well, if you're still asleep when it's time for me to leave, then I'll just have to wake you up for the hug. But if you go to sleep soon enough, we won't have to worry about that.
Of course I'll still tell the story. Do we have a deal?
Good filly. So, the reason for the pollen run. It all began with a flower.
What kind? One you'll never see, in a place you'll never visit, out beyond the beyond. This was a very special flower, you see. All flowers sleep in their fashion, but this one could think as well. And as you know, anything that can sleep and think will dream.
Though it was a little flower, it had very big dreams. It dreamed of a whole world! One with horses as tall as the sky, with forests full of talking trees and proud deer, with winding rivers filled with laughing dolphins.
But the flower's favorites—for it was a fairly lucid dreamer, a sleeping flower not being much different than an awake one—were the breezies, little clever things like the flower's own self.
Yes, it wasn't just any world the flower dreamt of. It was our world.
But dreams only last as long as the dreamer sleeps, and while certain little fillies may try otherwise, nothing can sleep forever. In time, the flower awoke and the dream was gone. Gone were the giant and the trees, the deer and the dolphins. Gone were the breezies. All that was left was the flower, the only thinking thing in its little grove beyond the beyond.
Don't fret, my darling. This one has a happy ending.
You see, most creatures might just feel sad for a time after losing such a wonderful dream. But not the flower. No, the flower decided to do something about it.
Now, you must remember that this was a very special flower. Special enough that it could reach out and snatch up the pollen right out of its neighbors. So it snatched and snatched and snatched, until it had gotten all of the pollen in its little grove. Then it ate it all up.
Yes, ate. A very special flower, that one. And you should be glad it was, because soon enough, it was stuffed so full that it drifted back to sleep. And it did it all quick enough that that same dream was waiting for it once it did.
There was just one little problem: Everything in the dream remembered when the flower had been awake, when they were nothing more than fading memories.
Yes, it was scary for them. Scary enough that most of them had to put it out of mind. They forgot the time they were nearly forgotten, told themselves it never happened and would never happen again. The giant and the trees, the deer and the dolphins, all of them went on with their lives as though they always had.
But not the breezies. Not the flower's favorites. We took after the flower. We decided to do something about it.
Goodness, no. I'm not that old, child. But that's how my father told the story to me.
No, your grandpa wasn't that old either.
No, nor my grandpa. The story's as old as the pollen run. Now let me go on.
It was all well and good for the breezies of the time to decide they'd try to keep the flower asleep, but that didn't mean they knew how. We tried gathering up all the pollen we could, but it was already in the dream, only memories of what the flower had eaten before. So we tried being quiet, so as not to rouse the flower, but none of the bigger folk would keep it down with us, and they're all much louder than we'll ever be.
Soon, all too soon, the flower's sleep grew restless, and the world seemed to curl at the edges like a dried-out leaf. But then something amazing happened.
The flower was very special, yes, but it wasn't the only thinking plant out beyond the beyond. A great tree, old and wise, felt the flower's struggle and reached out into the troubled dream. The tree knew a trick of living in its own dream, which it would teach the flower. In the meantime, it offered the pollen from its own dream to keep the flower fed.
So, we breezies ventured into a strange world, a dangerous one. Far from our home, our magic grew weak. And just as a tree is much bigger than a flower, so to was the tree's dream even bigger than our home.
Ah, but my dear, the wise tree thought of that. When it saw our struggles, it reached out to its own favorite children, the ponies, to help us:
In the mighty ones' dreams, it said, "Children of my roots, deep and strong, tend to the land and make sure the flowers are blossoming for our guests."
In the horned ones' dreams, it said, "Children of my trunk, proud and tall, use your magic and chase off those creatures that might look on our guests and see only a meal."
And in the winged ones' dreams, it said, "Children of my leaves, light and free, give our guests the breezes they need to see them safely through our home."
So breezies left, and with the ponies' help, breezies returned. We found that bringing pollen into the flower's dream worked just as well as bringing it into the flower's belly, and every generation, we've gone back out into Equestria to keep it fed. Thus it has been, and thus it shall be, 'til the flower learns the trick of the tree.
So that's why I have to go, but don't you fret. You're my little Tailwind, always at my back, pushing me to the distant fields and pushing me back home. I'll see you again, my darling. Nothing will keep me from it.
Yes, really. Your papa's been training for this for months. And the rest of my team... Well, I'll be leading them. I'll see to it that they all get home safely as well. And really, with the help of the ponies, what could go wrong?
