OC Slamjam: Fillygree

by Hap

Rating: teen
Tags:
Length: 7057

Fillygree entries

FIllygree's entries for the OC Slamjam

Published 1970-01-01 00:00:00 UTC
Last updated 2015-06-09 05:29:31 UTC

Bracket 2: W: 23v42: Calluna vs Fillygree

Flowers Forever

Calluna squinted at the tiny white flower, turning it around in her magic and watching the light glint off its metallic petals. Every wrinkle, every crease of a gardenia’s waxy petals, even drops of dew were rendered perfectly in white gold. “It’s beautiful. It looks almost alive.” She glanced at Fillygree and asked, “Where are the rest of them?”

“Oh,” said Fillygree, pushing a stray lock of blond hair behind one ear, “I only made the one earring. Well, and the one rose for the boutonniere cufflinks.”

Calluna dropped the flower out of her magic, catching it in her lilac hooves as she stammered, “One? J-just one! It took you five days to make one? Thistledown’s wedding is the day after tomorrow and there are three hundred guests. I’m supposed to make a corsage or boutonniere for every guest, and each one is supposed to be graced with a pair of your fake little flowers and—”

“Excuse me? These” —Fillygree thrust a miniature rose up to Calluna’s muzzle, turning her cross-eyed— “will be beautiful long after your silly weeds have turned to dust. Everypony is going to throw the flowers in the trash on their way out the door, but these cufflinks and earrings will be passed down to their…”

Fillygree trailed off, still holding the glittering pink flower on her hoof. Calluna’s green eyes had dropped to the floor along with her flank, and she was crushing a bouquet to her chest. Silence filled the room, broken only by the crinkling of cellophane as Calluna’s halting breaths pushed against the bundle of daisies. She managed to stop the trembling in her lip long enough to say, “Nothing is going to get passed down if everypony has to share half a pair of earrings.”

Fillygree nodded, returning the tiny jewels to their case as quietly as she could. Without looking at the other mare, she spoke, barely above a whisper. “I’ll get them done on time, but if you’re really worried, you could lend a hoof at my shop.”

Calluna shook her head with a bounce of her powder-blue curls and said, “I have… flowery things to do.” She began nibbling on the edge of a daisy.

Without a word, Fillygree dropped the case into her saddlebag and shuffled out the door. Calluna took a deep breath, then held the squished bouquet out for inspection with a frown. She turned to the racks of flowers filling up most of the room and reached out one hoof to caress a gardenia. “Don’t worry, baby, she didn’t mean those things she said.”

Fillygree didn’t look up when she heard the bell above the door chime. Although the sign out front said “closed,” the sound of hoofsteps made their way through the showroom and behind the counter.

“You’re a hard mare to find.”

Fillygree looked up without raising her head. “My name’s on the building.”

Calluna looked back toward the door. “I’ve never been to Canterlot before.”

“So,” Fillygree said, scraping a blob of wax off a white block, “what brings you here?”

“I finished with my flower stuff for now. I can’t make the corsages and boutonnieres until tomorrow, or they’d wilt before the wedding. I thought I’d come help you out.”

“I don’t need your help.”

Calluna held up a white paperboard box in her magic and lifted the lid for Fillygree to see inside. “I brought strawberry shortcake.”

Fillygree sat up, leaning forward until her pale blue muzzle was almost touching the edge of the box. A dozen petite square cakes lay inside, soaked in pink syrup, with a few scraps of cream smeared here and there. There were no strawberries to be seen. Fillygree looked at Calluna and raised an eyebrow.

Calluna blushed. “I, uh, I have a weakness for strawberries.”

“Cake is cake.” Fillygree pulled a sticky cake out of the box and nodded toward a few miniature gardenias, identical to the earring but made of wax. “You can start making models if you’re worried.”

Calluna waited for Fillygree to take a bite, then said, “Do you always make your clients do all the work?”

Fillygree narrowed her eyes and chewed the crumbly cake while Calluna grinned and said, “You can’t yell at me with a mouthful of cake.”

“Ib habdoo aghoo,” Fillygree said with one hoof in the air, spraying crumbs across the workbench. She swallowed, then said, “It’s hard to argue with cake.”

Calluna slid the box onto the workbench, then looked at the other mare. “Why were you so mean to me?”

Without breaking eye contact, Fillygree crammed the entire cake into her mouth at once.

“Yeah. Look, this is my big chance. My opportunity to build my business bigger than some street corner flower cart. I only got this gig because Thistledown is my aunt. She took a big risk hiring me for this wedding. If you screw this up for me, I won't have a business to go back to in Fillydelphia.” She put her hooves together and leaned on the workbench. “So please, pleeeeeeaaaaaase take this seriously.”

Fillygree’s orange eyes wandered across the walls and ceiling while she chewed, before settling on the lilac mare in front of her. She finally swallowed, then licked her lips and sighed. “I never didn’t take this seriously. Why did you get so upset?”

“I literally just told you. Why did you get so upset?”

With a sigh, Fillygree resumed her work, mechanically squishing bits of wax into a depression on a square block, scraping off the excess, and poking a short section of wire through a hole from the back, then dropping the half-a-flower-on-a-stick onto the table. Without looking up, she said, “You insulted my work ethic and my art at the same time.”

“Ah,” Calluna said, stepping up to the workbench. “I thought you had to carve them all instead of… What is it you’re doing?”

“I pour a plaster mold around the wax models, then melt out the wax. I pour the molten metal in the mold. It makes all the earrings at once. Same with the cufflinks.”

Calluna poked at a soft lump of warm wax. “So I freaked out for no reason?”

“Well,” Fillygree said, “pretty much.”

“Wax models, huh?” Calluna lifted a tiny glob of wax in her magic and stuffed it into a depression on one plaster block, then glanced up at Fillygree. Upon receiving a smile, Calluna scraped away the excess wax and turned the block over. “There’s no hole in this one. How do you get the flower out?”

“You stick one of those on it.” Fillygree pointed at the half-flowers that came out of her own block and watched Calluna align one onto the wax in her block. “Just like that. No, jam it on there, so it sticks to the other half.”

Calluna squealed and clopped her hooves, holding up a tiny wax flower. Fillygree rolled her eyes, but couldn’t help the grin that crawled its way across her face. Calluna cleared her throat and began manufacturing gardenia tops. As the pile of flowers grew, she stole a glance at Fillygree and said, “I’m sorry.”

“Me too.”

“Still, though. Most ponies don’t react like that. You don’t strike me as a grumpy pony. Something was already bothering you.” Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Fillygree pause. “I think you don’t like weddings.”

“As a matter of fact,” Fillygree said, her hooves cycling through the motions, “I think they’re dumb. For the price of a typical wedding, you could’ve bought a house - something that will last.”

“Nothing lasts forever. If we think anything is permanent, then we’re just fooling ourselves.”

The mares sat in silence a while, adding to the pile of wax gardenias. Fillygree paused, crossing her hooves on the workbench. “Love is forever.”

“I thought you didn’t like weddings?”

“I’m not opposed to them on principle, but I’m not talking about the wedding. You love your family, and you pass that love on to your foals, and they pass it on to theirs. And when you see a necklace that your great-granddad bought your great-grandma, it reminds you of the love they passed down.”

“Wow,” Calluna said, “Who knew you could be sweet?”

Fillygree rolled her eyes, but chuckled anyway as she broke off another blob of wax. She nodded toward the pastry box and said, “Cake me,” with a few chomps of her teeth.

Calluna lifted a cake and held it up for Fillygree to take a bite, but when she opened her mouth, Calluna shoved the entire cake into Fillygree’s face. As Fillygree fell over backwards sputtering, Calluna fell over laughing.

Fillygree sat up with crumbly pink cake across her entire muzzle. “I owe you for that one.”

“Heehee, no, you owe me a few dozen,” Calluna said, pointing to the pile of wax earrings.

“Yeah, but who’s counting?”

“Heh, I guess you’re right, we—”

“No, seriously,” Fillygree said, wiping her face with a fetlock, “who’s counting? We need three hundred of these.”

“Oh! Hahaha…”

Both mares laughed as Calluna began separating the earrings into sets of ten.

“Thanks for helping me with the flowers,” Calluna said as she trotted alongside the cart.

Fillygree smiled and shifted the cart’s harness on her midsection. “It’s the least I could do after keeping you up all night doing my job.”

“It wasn’t exactly my idea of a girl’s night, but it was fun in its own kind of way.”

“Heh. You just liked playing with all the cute little flowers.”

Calluna looked back at the cart, full of flower arrangements and boxes upon boxes of corsages and boutonierres. “They’re not exactly my kind of flowers, but I understand why you like them.”

“What I don’t understand is why you do what you do,” Fillygree said, panting as she looked at the wedding chapel up ahead. “I mean, you put a lot of work into something that’s going to be gone in a few days. How does that not bother you?”

Calluna pulled a pink rose from the cart, then turned to Fillygree with a smile that stretched from ear to ear. “A flower is like a moment of happiness. It can’t last forever.” Her magic glowed brighter as the rose lost its color, shriveling to a sad brown state.

She held the flower in front of Fillygree and said, “You can try to make it last forever, but…” She stopped and took a couple steps backward, then plucked a yellow daisy that had sprouted from a crack in the road. “You’ll miss the next one.”

Fillygree smiled and blushed while Calluna slid the flower behind her ear. “Thanks.”

A few moments later, Calluna watched Fillygree wrinkle her brow as she pulled the cart up next to some caterers carrying tables into a gazebo. As Fillygree waited for Calluna to unhook her from the harness, she turned around and said, “Can you handle the rest by yourself?”

“Oh, sure. The wedding’s still a couple hours away.”

“Good, good.” Fillygree stared at the flowers for a moment, then swept her eyes across the festive scene, avoiding Calluna’s eyes. “I’ve got something to do. I’ll see you after the wedding?”

“Sure. Thanks for the help.” Calluna watched Fillygree wander off before turning back to her cart and pulling out a giant vase.

“I thought I’d find you here,” Fillygree said.

“Hmmm?” Calluna turned around and smiled around the strawberry stem sticking out of her mouth.

Fillygree sat on the bench next to her, watching distant partygoers shake their flanks in unison as others laughed and ate cake. Calluna held up a silver platter with a few chocolate-covered strawberries remaining on white paper doilies. “Strawberry?”

“Sure!” Fillygree grabbed one of the confections, then paused and patted her tummy. “This is a moment of happiness that will become all-too-permanent.”

Calluna rolled her eyes, but snuck a glance at her own belly.

“Soooooo,” Fillygree said, rolling the strawberry around on her hooves, “I was thinking about what you said, about how a single happy moment is like a flower.”

“Yeah?”

“What is life, if not a process of moving from one moment to the next?”

“Mmmhmm,” Calluna said, then spit a stem into the grass and swallowed. “You could even say that we’re permanently a part of this process.”

Fillygree chuckled. “I suppose so. I know we got off on the wrong hoof, but I really enjoyed getting to know you.” She reached into her mane, digging through her sloppy bun until she pulled something out. “I made this for you.”

Calluna picked up the tiny sparkling item in her magic, then dropped it in her hooves. It was a brilliant yellow flower, with five oblong petals that glistened even in the shade. “Is this… This kind of looks like a strawberry flower, but those are white.”

“It’s a wild strawberry. They grow like weeds in my tiny little lawn. I had to invent my own special gold alloy to get that color of yellow.” Fillygree picked it up from Calluna’s hooves, and tucked it behind the unicorn’s ear. “I wanted this to remind you that that, even though we only spent a few moments together, I’ll remember you forever.”

“Awwwwww,” Calluna said with a blush, “That’s so sweet.” She wrapped Fillygree in a hug. “And this is to remind you to keep your eyes open for that next happy moment.”

Both mares giggled before turning back to watch the wedding. As Fillygree took a bite of strawberry, Calluna leaned over and said, “You are going to write me, though, right?”

AQ: Lunar Glint vs Fillygree

All That Glints

The door opened, sending a metallic tinkle across the tiny shop’s showroom. Fillygree didn’t look up, letting the door close and strike the silver bell again. The grinding wheel demanded her complete attention, at least until this face had been polished. Most ponies needed a few minutes to browse the display cases, anyway.

She ignored the drop of sweat making its way around the loupe pinched between her cheek and eyebrow. It was more difficult to ignore the stallion standing on the other side of the counter and repeatedly clearing his throat.

Fillygree sighed and lifted the diamond from the grinding wheel, turning it around in her hooves so it shattered the sunlight that poured through the glass storefront. She set it carefully in a tray, then looked up at her customer.

His wings twitched and fluttered for an instant before locking back to his sides. The grin he wore was obviously fake, and the poor thing was hardly breathing. She had seen these symptoms before. Lovestruck stallions were a pretty steady source of income. Even before she stepped up to the other side of the display case, she had mentally picked out half a dozen pieces to show him. “How can I help you, sir?”

“Uh, I’m, looking for, uh—” he licked his lips, and his eyes darted back and forth behind his glasses “—looking for something beautiful.” He made eye contact, and held it just a moment too long.

Fillygree forced a smile. “I… guess you’ve come to the right place. Are we looking for a horn ring, wing bangles, or earrings?”

“What?” His eyebrows climbed up his forehead as his pupils shrank. “Oh, no no no, I’m not proposing, I’m just…”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Fillygree said, placing a pale blue hoof against her chest. “Most stallions aren’t this nervous unless they’re shopping for engagement jewelry.”

The stallion sputtered and blinked repeatedly. Fillygree took the moment to look him over in more detail. He made it to the gym maybe a little too often, and his manestyle… well, it just seemed wrong to use the word ‘style’ to refer to the way he kept the sky-blue mop on top of his head. He clearly did not have a girlfriend.

She stepped around the counter and began guiding him around the perimeter of the little showroom. “So, have you talked to this mare yet?”

“Ummmm… You could say that, yeah.”

“Look, here’s a nice brooch,” Fillygree said, tapping a blue hoof against the glass top of a display case, “if she likes to go to formal galas and such.”

He shook his head. “I don’t get the impression she likes big parties.”

Fillygree giggled and moved on down the display case. “Not a big fan of them myself. Do you know what she likes?”

He shuffled a ways farther and scanned a tray of emeralds set in silver. “She likes jewelry.”

“Well, that doesn’t exactly set her apart from every other mare on the planet.” As she leaned over another display case, a strand of blond mane fell in front of her eyes. “Look at this little necklace. Pretty, but noncommittal.”

“Very pretty,” he said, glancing from the display case to her and back down again.

By now, they had circled halfway around the little showroom, and as they browsed the cases in the front window Fillygree said, “So, do you see anything you like?”

His ears perked up at that. He nodded his head and got a weird grin on his face as he said, “Yeaaaah.”

Fillygree squinted and leaned back a little. “What?”

“You.”

“Oh, look,” she said, “it’s the door. Bye!” She pushed him outside and closed the door behind him, flipping the sign around to ‘closed.’ The trip back to the workbench was long, and at the end of it she slid onto her stool, diligently keeping her eyes on the diamond she’d left behind earlier.

Fillygree heard the door open, letting in sounds of the bustling street for a scant few seconds. She didn’t look up until she heard somepony drop a box onto the countertop. Repair jobs were the worst. She was an artist, a creative force. Repairs had to be perfect and it was impossible to tell the melting temperature of some mystery alloy. That and—

He was back. Fillygree stared at him through narrowed eyes, a tiny screwdriver dangling from her lips.

He just stood there, with that dumb smile on his face. Fillygree spat out the screwdriver and said, “Are you going to buy something?”

“Actually, I was hoping to win something.”

“I swear, if you say ‘your heart’ then I’m going to shove that box—”

He held his hooves up and said, “No, no! I just wanted, um. Look. We got off on the wrong hoof yesterday. I’m Glint.”

“I thought it went pretty well yesterday. I’m Fillygree.”

“I know. Your na—”

“Name’s on the door. Yeah. I’m starting to regret that.”

“I saw you at Starspark’s cuteceañera. Her tiara was beautiful - and a technically accurate depiction of one of my favorite constellations! Turns out, the jeweler who made it was at the party, too, and she was beautiful, but kind of hiding in the back, so I asked around…” Glint held up the box and rattled it. “I hear you like board games. I thought, you know, since you don’t have any customers at the moment, that maybe you might like to play Monopony?”

“You know I have actual work to do, right? I make all the jewelry in the store.” She poked him in the chest with a hoof. “Just because you are a bum doesn’t mean I have all day to mess around.”

He raised an eyebrow. “I’m not unemployed, I work nights. I’m an astronomer at the royal observatory.”

“So you study stars?”

Glint’s eyes lit up and he held up a hoof. “Well, there’s a lot more in the night sky than just stars. There’s—”

“Don’t care. If you want to play a game, fine. But—” she turned around, opened a drawer and fished around for a moment, then turned back around and dropped a heavy golden trinket on the counter “—I’m the hat.”

Twenty minutes later, Fillygree was snatching the last title deeds from Glint’s outstretched wing. He looked up as he hoofed over the last few brightly-colored bits and managed to squeak out, “A-at least you had fun, right?”

“Nope,” she said, snatching up her hoof-made golden hat piece. “It’s only fun if it’s a challenge.”

“But… But I usually beat my friends,” he said as he scooped piles of houses and hotels into the box.

Fillygree held a hoof up to her mouth in mock surprise. “You have friends?”

Glint nearly dropped the board, then hugged it to his chest as he dropped onto his flank. His lip trembled as he whispered, “I have friends.”

Fillygree reached out a hoof to his shoulder and lowered her head to look him in the eyes. “Hey, relax. That was just a joke.”

He forced a tiny smile as he finished packing up the game. “I’m sorry, I just have some trouble reading mares.”

“Yeah, I noticed that when you came back.”

He blinked as he picked up the box. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I literally shoved you out the door. What did you think that meant?”

“That… You were playing hard to get?”

Fillygree closed her eyes and began rubbing her temples with her hooves. “Go. Just go.”

As soon as the sweet old couple had walked out the door, the bell jingled again. Thinking that perhaps they had forgotten something, FIllygree turned around. Instead, Glint was standing in the doorway with a flat box under his wing. Fillygree groaned. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“Come on! Why don’t we try Hearthwarming Homesteaders?”

She rolled her eyes as she trotted back to her workbench. “Because it’s a game for three or four ponies.”

Glint slapped the box on the counter. “Are you telling me that you don’t know some sort of special rules to play Homesteaders with only two players?”

Fillygree suppressed a grin as she said, “Of course I know.”

Glint pulled off the lid and began unpacking the game. Half an hour later, he was repacking the game with somewhat less enthusiasm. “I didn’t think it was possible for you to win when I had only built like three roads.”

Without looking up, Fillygree muttered around a miniature chisel-like tool, “Becauthe you’re a lother. Now go ahway.”

Glint lethargically pulled pegs out of his board as Fillygree sat on her stool, tapping on a ring with a tiny hammer. She said, “You thought I hadn’t heard of Battleclouds just because I didn’t grow up in Cloudsdale?”

He mumbled something under his breath.

“What was that?” Fillygree asked, her hoof to her ear. “I didn’t quite hear that.”

Glint grumbled, but looked Fillygree in the eyes for a moment before shifting his gaze away. “Because you’re the unbeatable game master.”

“That’s right, now scram.”

“And the ‘Z’ on the triple letter score makes one hundred-sixty-three points.”

Glint crossed his forelegs over his chest and glared at Fillygree as she took a bite of her sandwich.

She swallowed, then said, “What? Syzygy is a real word.”

“I know,” Glint said, pushing cold fries around his takeout box. “It’s the alignment of three celestial bodies. I just don’t think it’s fair that you know it.”

“Just because I’m laconic doesn’t mean I’m illiterate.”

Glint stealthily inched his hoof toward the dictionary as Fillygree picked out five more letters. He flipped through the pages, then snapped his head up. “You are not ‘laconic!’ I can’t get you to shut up!”

Fillygree stuck out her tongue, then squealed as she ducked the dictionary that flew over her head.

Fillygree flipped over a circular card. “Plum is the tall.” She looked up at Glint.

He shook his head.

“Dealer is forced to claim the tall.” She squinted at the cards in her hoof, looked back at Glint, then to her cards again. “I’ll put in twenty.”

Glint poked at the few bits left in front of him, then dropped his cards on the counter. “I fold.”

“I guess that means I win!” Her smile shone brighter than the pile of bits she raked across the counter with her forelegs.

“I just don’t understand how you’ve even heard of this game.”

“You like space. I like games.”

“I thought you liked jewelry.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Fillygree said, holding a hoof to her muzzle and pretending not to smile. “I didn’t know I was only allowed to like one thing, ever. Isn’t there something that you like, besides astronomy?”

Glint blushed and fiddled with his hooves, then looked back up. “You.”

Fillygree looked down and hoped the warmth in her own cheeks wasn’t visible. “I suppose I should have seen that coming.”

“Seriously, though. Would you go to dinner with me?”

Fillygree sighed as she stacked cards in two piles. “No. I don’t date losers.”

Glint frowned and leaned back. “I am not a loser.”

“Are you kidding? You’ve done nothing but lose, every single day that you’ve walked in here.” She poked him in the chest with each word as she said, “You. Are. A. Loser. A persistent loser, but a loser.”

He threw his hooves into the air. “Well, nopony can beat you!”

“That’s not true. Ponies beat me all the time.”

“Really? Where can you find somepony who can beat you at a board game or a card game?”

Fillygree leaned forward, waiting for Glint to lean in toward her. She shifted her eyes left and right, then whispered, “The underground board gaming rings.”

“That’s a thing?” He leaned back and squinted at Fillygree. “That’s not a thing. You’re messing with me. That’s not a thing. Is it?”

She reclined with a grin, letting her eyes wander across the ceiling.

“Come on!” Glint shouted. He sighed, resting his hooves on the counter. “Let me take you to dinner.”

“You work nights, right?”

He sat up and blinked. “Y-yeah.”

“Shouldn’t you be sleeping at dinnertime, anyway?” She grabbed a pencil and a scrap of paper, scribbling as she asked, “When do you get off work?”

“Six. In the morning.”

Fillygree held out the note with a sly grin. “Be at this address at seven A.M. sharp. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Glint nodded vigorously, sputtering as he scooped the cards into a box. Fillygree had no idea what he was trying to say, but he kept trying to say it until he was out the door.

Fillygree turned the corner from her staircase, stepping into the workshop with a coffee cup clenched in her teeth. Before she made it two steps, her attention was drawn to the front door where a stallion was pounding on the glass and shouting her name. She sat down on her stool and took the coffee cup in her hooves. Through the storefront, she could see Canterlot’s high-society morning crowd gathering around to stare at the commotion.

With a sigh, Fillygree smiled and finished her coffee, ignoring the continuing cries of, “I can see you in there!”

When her coffee was gone, and she had finished preparing the shop to open, she made her way to the front, stopping to dust the top of each display case. Finally, she flipped the sign to ‘open’ and unlocked the door. “Why, hello, good sir. How can I help you today?”

Glint pushed his way through the door. “You LIED to me! That wasn’t a date, you sent me to a barber.”

“Okay,” Fillygree said, holding up a hoof. “Number one: I never said it was a date. And two: you really, really needed a manestyle.” She fluffed his mane and leaned back. “It fits you.”

“So… what? You were leading me on this whole time, just to… Just to make a joke about my mane?”

Fillygree laughed, and grabbed Glint by the shoulders to keep him from storming out the door. She held him still until she had her giggles under control. “You really don’t read mares well, do you?”

Glint sat down and refused to make eye contact.

“Alright. You’ve been spending a lot of time with a mare, seeing her every day for a couple of weeks. The two of you even ate together a few times.” She ran a hoof through his mane. “And now she’s fixing your hair. How do those stars line up?”

AQ: Evergreen vs Fillygree

Snow’d, eh?

A thick bank of clouds approached from the north with all the weight and color of another mountain range. The setting sun painted fire across the boiling cumulus, but the wind that sliced through Evergreen’s uniform told another story. She angled her wings and began a spiral to the ground, where an ice-blue earth pony was fussing with an overstuffed pack in between nervous glances at the sky.

Evergreen touched down on the soft pine needles and straightened her campaign hat. “Why hello there, ma’am. Could you possibly be needing some assistance?”

The mare looked up from her pack and blinked, nervously twisting a lock of blond mane that had escaped her bun. She glanced from the imposing pine forest to the lush grasses that led to the emerald lake, then turned back to the pegasus and said, “You are literally the greenest thing I have ever seen in my life.”

Evergreen giggled and poked at her jade mane with a pine-colored hoof. “Oh, my parents had quite the sense of humor, don’tcha think? Sergeant Evergreen of the Royal Equestrian Rangers, at your service!” She snapped off a quick salute before standing at attention with a grin.

“Well, maybe I could use some assistance with…” The mare looked at the tangle of tent poles and canvas poking out of her bag, then up at the ominous clouds. “Uh, directions to the nearest hotel.”

“Oh, goodness, no. There’s no civilization for a couple day’s hike in any direction. You’re about as deep in the woods as you can get. Go any deeper, and you’re on your way out the other side!” She cut off her laugh when she saw the look on the other mare’s face. Evergreen cleared her throat and straightened her crimson jacket. “What’s your name, miss?”

“Fillygree. If you can point me in the direction of a town, I can make my own way there.”

“I’m afraid not, miss Fillygree. This blizzard is gonna be snowin’ and blowin’ somethin’ fierce. You can’t walk out, not in these conditions. And I don’t think even I could survive out here with what you’ve got in that there pack. Why don’tcha come with me, my cabin’s just over that hill right there.”

Fillygree sighed, then hefted the bag onto her back. “Fine. I suppose a warm cabin does sound nice right about now.”

“THAT is your cabin?” Fillygree asked. She squinted against the snowflakes that drifted out of the whiteness hiding the top of the creaking wooden staircase.

“Yeah buddy,” Evergreen chirped from a few stairs up.

“Your home is on top of a… what is this?”

Evergreen’s eyes traced the stairs as they wound their way around the wooden support beams. “It’s a fire watch tower. It’s where I keep all my things, and it’s where I ride out the worst of the storms, but really, the forest is my home.”

“That’s awfully romantic. You give a lot of stallions that line?”

“Heehee, no,” Evergreen said, trotting up to the first corner. “I don’t get a lot of stallions out this way.” She smiled as she continued up the stairs, mumbling half to herself, “Not a lot of ponies at all, in fact.”

Fillygree stopped at treetop level, panting as she said. “If earth ponies were meant to live in the sky, they’d have been born with wings.”

“Hahahaha—” *snort* “—I think you’re talkin’ about me, eh?” She looked Fillygree over, then pointed a hoof at the mare’s bulging pack. “Why don’tcha leave that right here? You can pick it up on the way back down. I’ve got everything we’ll need.”

Fillygree glared at the pegasus, clearly trying her best to stand up straight while the pack weighed on her spine. “I can handle myself. Thanks.”

Evergreen placed a gentle wing on Fillygree’s shoulder. “Look here, bud. You’re tough, I give ya that, but I don’t think you can make it to the top carrying that pack.”

“I told you,” Fillygree said through gritted teeth as she shrugged off Evergreen’s wing. “I can handle it.” She started up the stairs again, forcing Evergreen to turn around and trot ahead of her.

Evergreen was happy to be moving again, and even happier for the silence. The world was at its most beautiful when snow was falling, in no small part because snow in the air tended to absorb the sounds of the world, leaving her in her own little world of black and white. If she tried hard, she could even ignore the wheezing earth pony who was pretending to be fine. The wooden steps were as cold as the grumbling earth mare but not nearly as icy. Without a warm surface to melt on, the snowflakes simply blew back into the gray sky that now surrounded them on all sides.

The sun had long since disappeared and the moon was surely pouring liquid silver across the top of the cloudscape, but Evergreen couldn’t detect a hint of its light. It was by blind feel and memory that she found her front door and ushered Fillygree inside. Within minutes, a roaring fire was bathing the tiny cabin in its warmth while Fillygree shivered wide-eyed beneath a blanket.

“Soooo,” Fillygree said as Evergreen busied herself over the fire, “Uh, thanks. I would have gotten the tent set up, you know, eventually. But... thanks.”

Evergreen giggled and glanced over her shoulder. “I know these woods can be tough. Even for me, sometimes.”

“So why are you out here?” Fillygree pulled the blanket tighter around her shoulders. “Tough living, freak snowstorms, and nopony around for miles.”

Evergreen pulled a pair of mugs off a shelf and glanced back at Fillygree. “Like I said, the forest is my home.”

“Still, though. You don’t exactly seem happy to be here.”

Evergreen stiffened for a moment, slowing the pace of the spoon clinking against the inside of the mug. She tapped the spoon dry, then laid it carefully on the hearth next to a single fork and butter knife. “I'm just not used to entertaining guests, is all.” Scooping up the two mugs in her hooves, she hovered over to the couch and settled next to Fillygree. She held out a steaming mug. “Here. Nothing like a double-double to warm you right up.”

“A what now?”

“Double cream, double sugar.”

“Ah, thanks.” Fillygree took a sip of the nearly-white coffee.

Evergreen slurped at her own mug and smiled, squirming her way deeper into the musty cushions and watching the fire dance. Between the hissing and popping of the burning logs, the whistling wind outside, and the creak of the tower as it swayed in the storm, Evergreen could almost forget that she was sharing the cabin with an overconfident earth pony. Until she started talking again.

“How do you do it?”

Evergreen peered into the steaming brew as if it held the answers to life. “Like, I kinda got used to it, ya know? After a while, it started to seem normal. And now—” she looked up and shrugged “—it's the only way I like my coffee.”

Fillygree looked at her host through bleary eyes and crossed her forelegs over her chest. “How do you make it out here on your own?”

Evergreen shifted her weight on the dusty couch. “Like I said, this is my home.”

“It doesn’t look like a home to me.”

Evergreen's emerald eyes followed Fillygree’s gaze as it traced the bare wooden walls and empty hearth. Even the nightstand was devoid of photographs or mementos. A few utilitarian items had been hoof-carved or cobbled together from baling twine and forest detritus. Plain brown wool blankets on the bed and stacks of canned oats said “government issue” as clearly as if they had been talking. But they hadn’t been talking. Until Fillygree had stumbled in and collapsed shivering on the couch, not a word had been uttered in the cabin for years.

“Like I said,” Evergreen muttered with the hint of a smile playing on her lips, “the forest is my home. This is just a shelter from the storm.”

A sliver of pre-dawn light tickled Evergreen’s eyes while the smell of coffee did the same for her stomach. With a start, she sat up on the couch, letting the blanket slump into a pile on the floor as she spun around. Her bed was made - sloppily, but made. The red flannel pajamas Fillygree had borrowed were resting folded on the foot of the bed. Fillygree’s overstuffed pack was missing, and a map was laid out on the room’s only table.

Evergreen didn’t bother pulling on her crisp red jacket, but took a second to jam the campaign hat over her tangled mane before darting out the door.

Fillygree didn’t turn around, or even flinch, when the door opened. She remained where she stood, draping her forelegs over the railing and staring past the wispy tendrils of forgotten breath into the overcast sky above.

Evergreen leaned on the rail next to her and said, “Just out for a rip, are ya, bud?”

The sun blossomed into the sky, refracting brilliant pink and orange through the snowflakes still making their way to the ground. The air was filled with flashes of diamond fire as one tiny crystal after another managed to catch the sun’s rays. The bottom surface of the clouds briefly resembled a worldwide blanket of cotton candy before the sun rose too high, plunging the world back into a gray twilight.

Fillygree took a deep breath, then spoke without looking back. “I thought I would leave early, get a head start, and hike as far as I could before sundown. I had everything figured out, see?” She motioned toward a pair of snowshoes that were leaning against the side of the cabin. “I even memorized your map.”

“The novelty map of coffee shop locations?”

Fillygree grunted. “Well, that explains a lot.”

“I’m sorry if I was a bit owly last night.” Evergreen shuffled her hooves, then looked at Fillygree and said, “If you don’t mind my asking, how did you end up in the Northwestern Unicorn Range, anyway?”

“It was just supposed to be an overnight hiking trip. Vanderhoof to Waffleton, one night of camping somewhere along the way, then another train ride back to Canterlot.”

“That’s a proper hike. You were planning to spend only one night in the woods?” Evergreen poked the canvas bag still balanced on Fillygree’s back. “How’d that work out for ya?”

“Well, at first I thought I was just hiking slowly. No big deal. I’d just be a day late getting to Waffleton. But I started to get worried around sunset the third day. I thought I’d missed it, so I doubled back.”

Evergreen helped Fillygree lower the pack to the snowy deck. “So, what made you think it was a good idea to run around the woods all by your lonesome?”

“I had it all planned out. Every detail. I knew the train schedules. I memorized all the edible plants in the Unicorn Range. I packed for every contingency. And besides, I wasn’t supposed to be alone, but none of my friends wanted to come. They said the hike was too much.”

“Smart friends,” Evergreen said as she squatted next to the bag and opened the flap, digging around beneath the mangled tent. “What’s this here?”

Fillygree glanced down, then looked back out over the monochrome pines and replied with her chin resting on the guard rail. “Snakebite kit.”

“You sure did pack for everything.” She looked at the jumble of odds and ends still in the bag. “You got a map in there somewhere?”

Fillygree huffed, her breath hanging in the air like an unspoken answer.

“A map kinda seems like a big thing, yeah?”

“I guess I just got caught up in the—”

“The nine different kinds of tweezers?” Evergreen said, waggling an open zippered case.

Fillygree rubbed the back of her neck. “One is for thorns, one’s for bee stings, one—” she flailed her hooves over her head “—Whatever. I thought I’d planned for everything.”

“Then mother nature just came up and gave you a proper cross-check, yeah?”

“Well, I certainly wasn’t planning on running into a blizzard in September.”

Evergreen shrugged. “We’re like the great white north, ya know. We don’t have fancy planned weather like you big city ponies.”

Fillygree rubbed her muzzle with a hoof. “It’s funny, there are legends about spooky places where the clouds move by themselves.”

“Legends?” Evergreen rolled her eyes. “Yeah, you can’t make it on your own out here.”

“But you do. Why can’t I?”

Evergreen shook her head with a smile. “I’m not alone. Not in the woods. You put me back in Vanhoover, surrounded by all those Coasties…” She shivered. “I never felt so alone in my life.”

Fillygree toyed with the end of a strap as she eyed the snow-covered world below. “I think mother nature won this round. I’m not gonna be able to walk through that, am I?”

“No, not for a week or so. Don’t worry, though. We’ve got another good melt before winter hits for sure.” She put a hoof on Fillygree’s shoulder. “Why don’t we go inside, eh?”

Fillygree flicked her tail and huffed, then brushed a swath of snow from the rail before turning around. “Yeah, why don’t we?” She hefted the bag onto her back and followed Evergreen into the cabin. “Say, you don’t happen to have any board games, do you?”

“Ha! I don’t have much use for board games out here.” Evergreen tossed her hat onto the bed and climbed onto the couch.

Fillygree grinned as she began dumping her pack’s contents onto the floor. “Well, it’s a good thing I packed a few travel-size games and a deck of cards.”

Evergreen turned around and leaned over the back of the couch, squinting at Fillygree. “Why would you pack board games for a solo trip into the wilderness?”

“Like I said” —she winked at Evergreen— “I planned for every possibility.”