Dust Bunnies and Dirty Clothesby Steadfast HoofChaptersBeginningGroomingInterspecies CommunicationPersistenceAgitationDietCommunicationBeginningPrompt: Beginning He adjusted his sash for the fifth time that day, Almundi shifted in his plastic seat and glanced down the hallways. It had been over forty minutes since he was instructed to wait in that chair. The professors’ must have been well on their way discussing his eligibility for enrollment. Almundi sighed hard, smiling despite his anxious state. He thought back to his village in the Smokey Mountain. His family, their encouraging words. His hoof went to the charm around his neck. The one his sister made him. His toes clicked across beads before settling on the runestone in the center. He thought about his tools, about the process of chiseling a warding rune, or painting a healing sigil. He leaned back in the plastic seat his eyelids fluttering as he thought about the literal days he spent perfecting runes before his wanderlust would tempt him into the mystical caves boring through his home. His hoof went to his chest tracing scars hidden underneath his shaggy white fur. Lifetime reminders of those desperate adventures. The memories made him squirm in his seat. Almundi sighed again. Leaning against the backrest his horns knocked against the wall. He brought the charm to his face. The beads clicking loudly in the empty hallway. He glanced around, his lips tightening as the many rules they held on magic danced in his head. His eyes stared longingly at the crude necklace before he gave a solid sigh. It wasn’t dangerous magic he was casting, they would probably forgive him. He reasoned bobbing his head. Almundi held the stone to his lips, whispering lost words into the stone, he heard the thrum as the rune activated, felt his magic flow through it. He took a deep breath first as he always did. Relishing the smell of what his mother was cooking that day, sounds of familiar labor played in his ears and he felt himself finally relax in the seat. Finally he opened his eyes and saw feminine hooves weaving fabric, a familiar charm bobbing below as his sister worked. His host stopped her work; noticing her glowing charm. She gasped before giving a drawn out greeting to her older brother. Almundi smiled as his sisters and mother spoke to him in their native tongue. Wishing him well and asking about his progress. He whispered excitedly back telling them about exotic Canterlot, and how fiiled it was with ponies. they chattered happily as he told them that he finally made it into the Academy. The first of his clan to go there let alone leave the mountain. He puffed up as they assured him of his entrance. Their goodbyes filled him with fire as he cut the connection, his mind a little murky as the rune dimmed. Soon after a door opened and Almundi was called inside. The plastic chair squeaked as he rose. He adjusted his sash before swaggering into the room, beaming with confidence. GroomingPrompt: Grooming “Why do we shave our beards?” you mutter, looking at your scraggly reflection. Your hoof scratches across your prickling chin, mushing your face around as you murky mind reaches for answers. You shrug and slowly fumble for your tooth brush still thinking about your question. ‘Is it because we’re trying to impress potential mates?’ you become more animated as the minty caulk hits your tongue as you diligently brush your teeth. ‘or was it mainly in the warmer climates that we shave?’ The water is warm and melodic as you pour coat wash onto a short hair brush. Again your mind wanders back to that question since the bleach walls do little to entertain you as you scrub yourself with the soap. ‘ Better yet, why do we clean ourselves and stuff? I remember somewhere it said that if insects didn’t clean their antennae they couldn’t smell as well so that makes sense,’ You open the curtain quickly and reach for your towel, trying to keep the chill bite of the air off your wet coat. ‘but then don’t some animals do, do it for attracting others? So am I doing it because I want to or is it all just a instinctual thing that all animals do?’ The towel rests on your lap as you sit on the toilet your mane still dripping with water. ‘If its an instinct then why haven’t dogs invented shampoo like we have? Or birds use gel for some cool hairdos?’ you smile into the mirror using your long tooth comb to style some cool do’s as you chuckle about birds in biker coats and black sun glasses. Again you rub your hoof across your scraggly face as you stare for a bit. “I know its supposed to be hot today but ehh, what the hell,” you trot out the bathroom looking proper even with your five o’clock shadow and begin to laugh as you think about some cows trying on some dresses. Interspecies CommunicationPrompt: interspecies communication The wind howled across the mountain aerie as a burly griffin lounged next to a smaller and much sleeker one. They relaxed in content silence watching fauna dart through underbrush with droll expressions. “you remember when we actually had to hunt for those things?” the larger breathed cocking his head to a white tail that was cautiously grazing. Somehow it sensed his gaze, lurching its face their way before bolting into the woods. Both griffins instinctively leapt to their feet, their postures posed to pursue the prancing prey. They looked at each other before quickly glancing away. The smaller one laughed breathily shifting his steel blue wing as he settled back down. The larger just flopped back down, the day’s work catching up with them. “heh, I cannot believe we just did that, and no I don’t remember dude. I grew up in equestria.” The larger griffin chirped, ruffling his feathers before preening them. “that’s right. Come ta think of it they’re the ones who gave us our first cattle farms, as a goodwill type a thing I think” he said his voice muffled behind his brown feathers. “heh… yea that was right before the minotaur declared war on us. Everyone had to move back home when they started attacking griffin settlements In equestria…” the smaller one spoke sadly, his eyes far away as he stared at nothing. The larger griffin paused before looking at him his eyes soft. “yea… mom and dad died in one of the train raids, right? Dartwing?” The smaller griffin looked curiously at his brother when he said his equestrian name. Dartwing. He had almost forgotten about it, it was one of the many things he had to let go to fit in with his new alien home. “ Why’d you say that? I thought you hated that name,” Dartwing said, bitterly staring at the rocks below. “sorry, I thought you liked it… I don’t… hate it, it’s just… weird, using words instead of, well names,” he looked at his little brother awkwardly. “I don’t know, I guess I’ve lived here with the clan all my life and you're just, different Michael.” “You’re right,” He hissed back hotly at his brother, who at least had the grace to look down ashamed. He clacked his beak shut as an awkward silence filled the air. His tail fanned restlessly. He was more upset at his own outburst then his brother’s lack of tact. He knew things were different here. That they were blunter, that some still preferred meat over the imitation that a cow of all people created that stopped the war. His brother was at least trying, unlike everyone else who ignored him. He clenched a fist before letting it go sighing hard. “You’re right.” His brother, Nathan, or as his mother always said with a hint of yearning, Apple Wood looked up at him questioningly. Dartwing smiled at him, “I do like dartwing better.” He got up and stretched. His brother following his moves, thinking they were going to head back. Dart wing stopped him before he took off towards the mountains, instead he looked down towards the woods. “Do you think you can show how to hunt?” PersistencePrompt: Persistence I am the last of my kind. The last of a line of sagely leaders. Once we hunted the mystical and nigh indomitable Wendigos. Now we have fallen to their prey. Our packs easily outsmart their smaller parties but our fangs have failed to pierce and rend their steel. I am alone, leading my grey cousins. Their magic has wiped many of us away but they can never follow too far into the cold north, the biting winds keeping them grounded, and the frozen ground killing all but the sturdiest plants. They have forgotten the wild ways trading them for metal sticks that spew fire and smoke. These have taken many of us, but we still hold our Territory. We will not show our stomachs. This is our hunting grounds and we hunt still. AgitationPrompt: Agitation “JERKS!” A chair splintered as it was lanched into a wall. “Just when I get close they disappear again!”- a table flips, smashing everything on top of it into a paste – “why do they always leave me behind!? Am I too useless!? I just want to help them!”- a sofa is torn in half before its flung to either ends of the room. –“Cant they see that!? Why cant she understand? I-I just want to help her.” Spike clutches his head in two large muscular hands, upsetting the bandages around it as he lashes out. Smashing one last chair he burns out and falls on his knees. The empty room is filled with his erratic breathing. “Why cant she see that?… I-I just want her back so bad,” his breathing becomes harsher and then finally turns into quiet sobs. “ I just want to see you again twilight. Why’d you have to leave?... I just cant do this without you,” Spike curls up on the wooden floor, his wounds forgotten as he hugs himself tightly. “You’re my best friend twilight… why can’t we be together?” His question goes unanswered as he spends the rest of the night, alone. DietPrompt: Diet “It’s okay twilight, I can go eat in the basement if this keeps bothering you so much.” Spike hissed civilly through clenched teeth. Twilight had to repress another gag with her hoof before settling enough to roll her eyes around the table to settle on the simpering dragon across her. It did nothing for the smell but she soldiered on, ”N-no Spike. We already talked about this,” she was able to regain most of her composure by breathing through her mouth. “You’re a growing dragon and therefore your diet needs to change to help. It doesn’t bother me, really, go ahead.” Spike gave her plastic smile a flat stare. Never breaking eye contact he quickly cut a piece of his pork chop and swallowed. Twilight dry heaved over the side of the table. “that’s it, I’m leaving,” Spike said as he got up with his plate walking away. He stopped as a shaking hoof raised over the lip of the table and noodled for him to stop. “wait, wait, you were at least able to get it to your mouth this time, that should count for something,” Twilight wheezed. Spike sighed dragging a claw across his face. “I seriously don’t see what the big deal is twilight. Big mac, and all the other stallions eat fish to help with their protein. Whats wrong with me eating a little meat.” “Nothing! I don’t understand myself! its just some seared severed flesh from another animal wh-HRGGH” Spike continued walking away, “I’ll bring the dishes up when I’m done twi” “y-yea, that’s probably for the best.” CommunicationPrompt: Communication ‘I think he’d probably be pissed at me. I mean yea I’m excusing myself for work, but really, that’s all it is, an excuse.’ The heat is uncomfortable, but I don’t really feel it as I shift the metal in the enchanted coke forge. ‘Shoot, it’s uneven.’ A flick of my left ear sends a signal through my earing. The forge whooshes as more oxygen is pumped into it. I sigh, shifting the metal a little more. ‘jerkbag really had to go and do that?’ It’s almost time. I can feel it. My eyes burn, even behind my thick goggles. Still I stare into the flames watching the glowing steel. ‘…I just don’t know what to say to them… that cheesy consoling crap just, doesn’t seem, right. At least not for them.’ I grab for the tongs, not bothering to look as I grope through them before pulling one. I glance it over, making sure it’s right, then I secure the cool end of the rod. Control, Accuracy, Rhythm. Those words fly through my head as I eye the forge, not taking out the rod. I pick a wide square headed hammer. ‘…I just don’t know…’ My goggles fog and I blame the smoke. My ears ring as my strikes start, eratic, wide, and wild. I pound the molten clay, but my brother stays dead. Figures. Steam erupts as I toss the metal into the water barrel, tongs included. I leave my hammer on the anvil and start droping my safety equipment. The outdoor air is sensual as it hits my skin. I make my way back home, set on saying something, anything to help. A bitter smile crawls across my face as I think back to before. ‘I should at least try..,’
BeginningPrompt: Beginning He adjusted his sash for the fifth time that day, Almundi shifted in his plastic seat and glanced down the hallways. It had been over forty minutes since he was instructed to wait in that chair. The professors’ must have been well on their way discussing his eligibility for enrollment. Almundi sighed hard, smiling despite his anxious state. He thought back to his village in the Smokey Mountain. His family, their encouraging words. His hoof went to the charm around his neck. The one his sister made him. His toes clicked across beads before settling on the runestone in the center. He thought about his tools, about the process of chiseling a warding rune, or painting a healing sigil. He leaned back in the plastic seat his eyelids fluttering as he thought about the literal days he spent perfecting runes before his wanderlust would tempt him into the mystical caves boring through his home. His hoof went to his chest tracing scars hidden underneath his shaggy white fur. Lifetime reminders of those desperate adventures. The memories made him squirm in his seat. Almundi sighed again. Leaning against the backrest his horns knocked against the wall. He brought the charm to his face. The beads clicking loudly in the empty hallway. He glanced around, his lips tightening as the many rules they held on magic danced in his head. His eyes stared longingly at the crude necklace before he gave a solid sigh. It wasn’t dangerous magic he was casting, they would probably forgive him. He reasoned bobbing his head. Almundi held the stone to his lips, whispering lost words into the stone, he heard the thrum as the rune activated, felt his magic flow through it. He took a deep breath first as he always did. Relishing the smell of what his mother was cooking that day, sounds of familiar labor played in his ears and he felt himself finally relax in the seat. Finally he opened his eyes and saw feminine hooves weaving fabric, a familiar charm bobbing below as his sister worked. His host stopped her work; noticing her glowing charm. She gasped before giving a drawn out greeting to her older brother. Almundi smiled as his sisters and mother spoke to him in their native tongue. Wishing him well and asking about his progress. He whispered excitedly back telling them about exotic Canterlot, and how fiiled it was with ponies. they chattered happily as he told them that he finally made it into the Academy. The first of his clan to go there let alone leave the mountain. He puffed up as they assured him of his entrance. Their goodbyes filled him with fire as he cut the connection, his mind a little murky as the rune dimmed. Soon after a door opened and Almundi was called inside. The plastic chair squeaked as he rose. He adjusted his sash before swaggering into the room, beaming with confidence.
GroomingPrompt: Grooming “Why do we shave our beards?” you mutter, looking at your scraggly reflection. Your hoof scratches across your prickling chin, mushing your face around as you murky mind reaches for answers. You shrug and slowly fumble for your tooth brush still thinking about your question. ‘Is it because we’re trying to impress potential mates?’ you become more animated as the minty caulk hits your tongue as you diligently brush your teeth. ‘or was it mainly in the warmer climates that we shave?’ The water is warm and melodic as you pour coat wash onto a short hair brush. Again your mind wanders back to that question since the bleach walls do little to entertain you as you scrub yourself with the soap. ‘ Better yet, why do we clean ourselves and stuff? I remember somewhere it said that if insects didn’t clean their antennae they couldn’t smell as well so that makes sense,’ You open the curtain quickly and reach for your towel, trying to keep the chill bite of the air off your wet coat. ‘but then don’t some animals do, do it for attracting others? So am I doing it because I want to or is it all just a instinctual thing that all animals do?’ The towel rests on your lap as you sit on the toilet your mane still dripping with water. ‘If its an instinct then why haven’t dogs invented shampoo like we have? Or birds use gel for some cool hairdos?’ you smile into the mirror using your long tooth comb to style some cool do’s as you chuckle about birds in biker coats and black sun glasses. Again you rub your hoof across your scraggly face as you stare for a bit. “I know its supposed to be hot today but ehh, what the hell,” you trot out the bathroom looking proper even with your five o’clock shadow and begin to laugh as you think about some cows trying on some dresses.
Interspecies CommunicationPrompt: interspecies communication The wind howled across the mountain aerie as a burly griffin lounged next to a smaller and much sleeker one. They relaxed in content silence watching fauna dart through underbrush with droll expressions. “you remember when we actually had to hunt for those things?” the larger breathed cocking his head to a white tail that was cautiously grazing. Somehow it sensed his gaze, lurching its face their way before bolting into the woods. Both griffins instinctively leapt to their feet, their postures posed to pursue the prancing prey. They looked at each other before quickly glancing away. The smaller one laughed breathily shifting his steel blue wing as he settled back down. The larger just flopped back down, the day’s work catching up with them. “heh, I cannot believe we just did that, and no I don’t remember dude. I grew up in equestria.” The larger griffin chirped, ruffling his feathers before preening them. “that’s right. Come ta think of it they’re the ones who gave us our first cattle farms, as a goodwill type a thing I think” he said his voice muffled behind his brown feathers. “heh… yea that was right before the minotaur declared war on us. Everyone had to move back home when they started attacking griffin settlements In equestria…” the smaller one spoke sadly, his eyes far away as he stared at nothing. The larger griffin paused before looking at him his eyes soft. “yea… mom and dad died in one of the train raids, right? Dartwing?” The smaller griffin looked curiously at his brother when he said his equestrian name. Dartwing. He had almost forgotten about it, it was one of the many things he had to let go to fit in with his new alien home. “ Why’d you say that? I thought you hated that name,” Dartwing said, bitterly staring at the rocks below. “sorry, I thought you liked it… I don’t… hate it, it’s just… weird, using words instead of, well names,” he looked at his little brother awkwardly. “I don’t know, I guess I’ve lived here with the clan all my life and you're just, different Michael.” “You’re right,” He hissed back hotly at his brother, who at least had the grace to look down ashamed. He clacked his beak shut as an awkward silence filled the air. His tail fanned restlessly. He was more upset at his own outburst then his brother’s lack of tact. He knew things were different here. That they were blunter, that some still preferred meat over the imitation that a cow of all people created that stopped the war. His brother was at least trying, unlike everyone else who ignored him. He clenched a fist before letting it go sighing hard. “You’re right.” His brother, Nathan, or as his mother always said with a hint of yearning, Apple Wood looked up at him questioningly. Dartwing smiled at him, “I do like dartwing better.” He got up and stretched. His brother following his moves, thinking they were going to head back. Dart wing stopped him before he took off towards the mountains, instead he looked down towards the woods. “Do you think you can show how to hunt?”
PersistencePrompt: Persistence I am the last of my kind. The last of a line of sagely leaders. Once we hunted the mystical and nigh indomitable Wendigos. Now we have fallen to their prey. Our packs easily outsmart their smaller parties but our fangs have failed to pierce and rend their steel. I am alone, leading my grey cousins. Their magic has wiped many of us away but they can never follow too far into the cold north, the biting winds keeping them grounded, and the frozen ground killing all but the sturdiest plants. They have forgotten the wild ways trading them for metal sticks that spew fire and smoke. These have taken many of us, but we still hold our Territory. We will not show our stomachs. This is our hunting grounds and we hunt still.
AgitationPrompt: Agitation “JERKS!” A chair splintered as it was lanched into a wall. “Just when I get close they disappear again!”- a table flips, smashing everything on top of it into a paste – “why do they always leave me behind!? Am I too useless!? I just want to help them!”- a sofa is torn in half before its flung to either ends of the room. –“Cant they see that!? Why cant she understand? I-I just want to help her.” Spike clutches his head in two large muscular hands, upsetting the bandages around it as he lashes out. Smashing one last chair he burns out and falls on his knees. The empty room is filled with his erratic breathing. “Why cant she see that?… I-I just want her back so bad,” his breathing becomes harsher and then finally turns into quiet sobs. “ I just want to see you again twilight. Why’d you have to leave?... I just cant do this without you,” Spike curls up on the wooden floor, his wounds forgotten as he hugs himself tightly. “You’re my best friend twilight… why can’t we be together?” His question goes unanswered as he spends the rest of the night, alone.
DietPrompt: Diet “It’s okay twilight, I can go eat in the basement if this keeps bothering you so much.” Spike hissed civilly through clenched teeth. Twilight had to repress another gag with her hoof before settling enough to roll her eyes around the table to settle on the simpering dragon across her. It did nothing for the smell but she soldiered on, ”N-no Spike. We already talked about this,” she was able to regain most of her composure by breathing through her mouth. “You’re a growing dragon and therefore your diet needs to change to help. It doesn’t bother me, really, go ahead.” Spike gave her plastic smile a flat stare. Never breaking eye contact he quickly cut a piece of his pork chop and swallowed. Twilight dry heaved over the side of the table. “that’s it, I’m leaving,” Spike said as he got up with his plate walking away. He stopped as a shaking hoof raised over the lip of the table and noodled for him to stop. “wait, wait, you were at least able to get it to your mouth this time, that should count for something,” Twilight wheezed. Spike sighed dragging a claw across his face. “I seriously don’t see what the big deal is twilight. Big mac, and all the other stallions eat fish to help with their protein. Whats wrong with me eating a little meat.” “Nothing! I don’t understand myself! its just some seared severed flesh from another animal wh-HRGGH” Spike continued walking away, “I’ll bring the dishes up when I’m done twi” “y-yea, that’s probably for the best.”
CommunicationPrompt: Communication ‘I think he’d probably be pissed at me. I mean yea I’m excusing myself for work, but really, that’s all it is, an excuse.’ The heat is uncomfortable, but I don’t really feel it as I shift the metal in the enchanted coke forge. ‘Shoot, it’s uneven.’ A flick of my left ear sends a signal through my earing. The forge whooshes as more oxygen is pumped into it. I sigh, shifting the metal a little more. ‘jerkbag really had to go and do that?’ It’s almost time. I can feel it. My eyes burn, even behind my thick goggles. Still I stare into the flames watching the glowing steel. ‘…I just don’t know what to say to them… that cheesy consoling crap just, doesn’t seem, right. At least not for them.’ I grab for the tongs, not bothering to look as I grope through them before pulling one. I glance it over, making sure it’s right, then I secure the cool end of the rod. Control, Accuracy, Rhythm. Those words fly through my head as I eye the forge, not taking out the rod. I pick a wide square headed hammer. ‘…I just don’t know…’ My goggles fog and I blame the smoke. My ears ring as my strikes start, eratic, wide, and wild. I pound the molten clay, but my brother stays dead. Figures. Steam erupts as I toss the metal into the water barrel, tongs included. I leave my hammer on the anvil and start droping my safety equipment. The outdoor air is sensual as it hits my skin. I make my way back home, set on saying something, anything to help. A bitter smile crawls across my face as I think back to before. ‘I should at least try..,’
