Pony Shorts

Chapters

Zen
A Little Storm of Chaos
On Crowd Songs
Letters and Late Fees
Morning Routine
Equestria
Cold Flight, Warm Hearth
Experimental Report: Animus
One-Bit Novels
The Taste of Bitter Almonds
The Mark
Derpyganger
Origami
Stratus
The Sleep of Reason
Black Bun Pie: Cragodile Hunter
Tom x Bloomberg OTP
Bucky McGillygutty X Kicks McGee OTP

Zen

Pinkie Pie spat out the handle of the rake and sat back for a moment to admire her hoof-iwork.

While you could take Pinkie out of the rock farm, you could never truly take the rock farm out of Pinkie, and she’d adapted the space accordingly. The Cakes weren’t particularly keen gardeners, and so let Pinkie pretty much have free reign with Sugarcube Corner’s garden. What was once unkempt lawn was now covered in small, white pebbles, surrounding fifteen carefully placed stones, small shrubs and plants, and raked into patterns reminiscent of the sea, with loving care and much attention.

The result was a little oasis of tranquillity in the heart of Ponyville. Pinkie took time to tend to her garden every week. Not only did it form a hobby, it also provided gifts for her family, in the form of exquisitely grown gemstones from the specially arranged rocks. Occasionally, she even invited guests.

“Wow. You did all this yourself?” Twilight asked, looking at the garden with a mix of surprise and awe.

“Yup! Got the idea a couple of years back when my dad sent me a copy of ‘Rock Farms in Eastern Equestria’ for my birthday!” Pinkie beamed.

“You know, I’ve never really looked into rock farming. I guess they do it differently all over Equestria, huh?”

“Oh yeah! In the east, they think that all the care you give the rocks helps them grow! They made a whole philosophy about it! The layout and design is meant to reflect your own inner pony!”

Twilight nodded, looking around. “… Is there anything special about the arrangement…?”

“Of course, silly, that’s the whole point!” Pinkie grinned, hopping with barely contained glee. “It’s laid out so that, no matter where you are, you can only ever see fourteen rocks, but really there’s fifteen! Go on, count ‘em!”

“One… Two…” Twilight continued, under her breath, then frowned. She counted again. And again.

“… Pinkie, I can count sixteen.”

“Yeah, I don’t think I’ve quite got the hang of it yet.”

A Little Storm of Chaos

Rainbow Dash stared at the various miscellaneous objects she’d gathered from around Ponyville that morning. She’d taken some books from Treetop Library (to Twilight’s amazement and delight), bought a bag of sugar and some cocoa from Sugarcube Corner, some milk from the market, a small bottle of red food dye, and some cooking utensils borrowed from Applejack.

Added to that was a packet of cloud seed from Cloudsdale, at no small expense, and a hastily scrawled recipe.

“… Right…. So… First I put the sugar in the bowl…” Rainbow hesitantly poured out a portion of sugar into the waiting mixing bowl, sitting on her kitchen table. She stared at the sugar in the bowl, then back at the recipe.

“… And now… Heat. Right. I can do this.” She tentatively placed the bowl on the hob and flicked on the heat with her wingtip. “… Now what. Oh, right, the milk.”

Glancing again at the recipe, she began to mix the cocoa and milk in another bowl, stirring with a spoon in her mouth until she was certain it was well mixed. Checking the oven again, she found the sugar had melted into a fine syrup. She quickly added some of the food colouring, then grabbed a fork in her mouth and started to tease at the syrup, drawing it out into long, thin threads that trailed all over the kitchen surface and quickly got entangled in her feathers and fur.

“Ackpth!” She exclaimed, as she tried to clear the light strands off her wings, slipping and plunging her hoof straight into the warm syrup. This only served to make matters worse, and soon she was covered, head to hoof, in lightly spun sugar and sticky syrup.

Struggling to extend her wings, she managed to bring them together in a thunderous clap of compressed air that cleared her body and threw all the web-like sugar into the air. It hung in the air, and she carefully guided it back down into a bowl with controlled gusts from her wings.

She quickly threw in the packet of cloud seed and the chocolate milk, and then, wisely, dove for cover.

~~~

Pinkie was clearing up after a good day’s sales when she heard the bell on the shop’s front door. Mr. and Mrs. Cake were making a start on the morning’s stock in the kitchen, so she ran out from the store cupboard to serve the late customer.

Dashing into the shop front, she found it empty, save for a carefully wrapped package sitting just outside the still-open door. Curiously, she wandered over and looked at the label tied to the ribbon.

“ ’To Pinkie Pie, Don’t Eat It All At Once.’ Huh. I guess it’s for me!” She grabbed the ribbon in her teeth and pulled.

The package exploded outwards as a cloud of Pinkie-pink cotton candy ballooned from the confined space, heavy with chocolate milk rain. Almost immediately it began to precipitate, drenching the stunned Pinkie.

She didn’t take long to recover, and was soon skipping happily in the chocolate puddles, giggling like a little filly.

Rainbow, watching from the roof of Sugarcube Corner, smiled happily.

On Crowd Songs

Snow was falling over Ponyville, the first of the season. From their homes, ponies watched the flakes float down from the grey skies above, each one hoof-crafted in Cloudsdale. Each weatherpony at the factory had their own, unique design, so an observant pony could identify which flakes were made by which pony by examining them.

One pony wasn’t looking out the window. The mint-green unicorn was hunched over a desk, surrounded by sheets and sheets of screwed up manuscript paper. Being Ponyville’s premier musician came with certain responsibilities at this time of year, and every year she had the same problem.

The door swung open, interrupting her train of thoughts with an icy blast of wind. An earth pony wrapped up in coat, hat and scarf shuffled in, dumping two bags of groceries on the mat.

“Bon Bon, you’re back! How’s the market?” Lyra asked, turning around. Bon Bon tugged off her scarf and flicked it over the hook by the door.

“Closing early today, I think. I managed to get everything we needed before the stalls started packing up, though. How’re you getting on with… That?” she asked, pointing a hoof at the mound of paper.

“Phbbth.” Lyra replied.

“Phbbth? Oh my, sounds serious.”

“Lyrical block. Can’t think of where to start. I’ve got the tune pretty much done, though.”

“Well, you know I’m no poet. If you want to take a break, you could help me wrap up the gifts for Hearth’s Warming…”

“Waitwait. What was that?” Lyra asked, suddenly struck by inspiration.

“… You could help me wrap up the-“

“Yes! That’s it! Wrap up! Winter Wrap Up! Hah hah!” with sudden lyrical frenzy, the unicorn dove back into her work, quill flying across the pages. Bon Bon blinked in confusion.

“… I’ll… Be in the kitchen making some mulled punch.”

~~~

The Mayor scanned the sheets before her, and looked up into Lyra’s nervous grin.

“Well, it’s… Catchy, but I’m not sure about it, Lyra.” She said, adjusting her glasses.

“Why’s that, mayor?” the unicorn replied.

“It’s the name, ‘Winter Wrap Up’. The day’s always been called the Winter’s End Festival, we can’t just… Change the name! It’s tradition!”

Lyra chewed her lip, trying to think of a quick answer.

“Well… It’s… Maybe a new name will make it… more interesting, and, uh… help us finish on time this year?” she beamed.

The Mayor looked back down at the lyrics, and then glanced at the score again, humming a section to herself. Finally, she sighed, and handed the sheets back to Lyra.

“Yes, maybe you’re right. Winter Wrap Up it is.” Lyra grabbed the paper with her magic and tried to make a hasty exit.

“Oh! One other thing, those six solo parts you’ve written in…” the Mayor continued, and Lyra froze. “… I was thinking… That as a nice, rewarding gesture, you should give those parts to the girls who saved us from Nightmare Moon last summer? Oh, and perhaps extend Twilight Sparkle’s part, it’ll be her first year, after all.” she smiled, in the way that all politicians do.

Lyra bit back a rebuttal and forced herself to nod. She’d planned for herself and her friends to sing the coveted solos, but such was the curse of executive meddling. Once she’d left the town hall, she made straight for the post office to ready and send everypony their personal copies.

The town may have had a reputation for being late every Winter’s End Fes-… Winter Wrap Up, but they also had a reputation for the best performance, and there was no way that she was going to let be tarnished, not while it was her responsibility to uphold it.

~~~

One of the consequences of each snowflake being unique, was that they were collectable. In most cultures this would be impossible due to the sad fact that these tiny works of art tend to melt if you so much as look at them, but the tireless unicorns had the answer.

“It’s just simple magic, Spike. You see, each snowflake is made of tiny ice crystals connected together in an intricate pattern that’s unique to each craftspony up in Cloudsdale, but when the temperature rises, the ice melts and loses its pattern, so we collectors cast a simple preservation spell on each flake so that it never melts!”

Twilight smiled enthusiastically, hovering a book in front of the dragon containing carefully preserved snowflakes, accompanied by detailed sketches of the patterns as well as the date and location of finding.

“… Ponies actually… Collect these? … I thought stamp collecting was boring enough, but…” Spike replied, distinctly unimpressed.

“Spike! It’s just a hobby! And besides, some of the rarer flakes, ones made by real masters of the art, sell for thousands of bits to museums and galleries! It’s a big part of the art industry, you know.”

“Seriously?”

“Sure. I remember one noble in Canterlot who used to wear jewellery that had rare flakes embedded in the gems! You could look into it like a magnifying glass and see all the details!”

Spike was spared further tuition on chiliophily by a knock at the door. Opening the door, he was greeted by Ditzy Doo, wearing a scarf that was really far too long for her, and trailed along the ground.

“’ornin’ ‘ike! ‘Ere’s ‘our ‘ail!” she mumbled around a mouthful of letters, passing them to the dragon.

“Thanks Ditzy! How’s flying today?” Spike replied, putting the letters down on a table.

“Not bad above the clouds, it’s quite still, not much wind. I’m grounded today though, health and safety. They never let us fly our town rounds if there’s total cloud cover, just in case.”

“Explains the scarf. Would’ve thought something that long would get caught in your wings!”

“Eh-heh, yeah… Carrot Top made it for me. She’s uh… Enthusiastic about knitting right now. … Bit too enthusiastic.” She turned, showing Spike her knitted mailbag, and two pairs of knitted booties hanging from the straps. “I barely escaped the sweater alive this morning, let me tell ya. Anyway, better get on with deliveries. I’ll see you two at practice later!”

“Practice?” Twilight asked, after Spike closed the door. “What for?”

Spike shrugged, flicking through the letters. “Oh, here’s one from the town hall. Let’s see…

‘To Twilight Sparkle,

For this year’s Winter’s End Festival, (henceforth known as Winter Wrap Up), you have been selected to sing a solo part in the traditional opening performance. Please find enclosed your copy of this year’s song, and be sure to attend the weekly practice sessions.’

… Huh. Well, that explains it.”

Twilight stared blankly. “Singing!? I can’t sing! Why are they getting ME to do this!? Why not Pinkie? Or Fluttershy? Anypony! Oh, hay, I need to practice! Spike, cancel today’s plans, I need to study singing technique!”

~~~

All around the centre square of Ponyville were gathered the good citizens of the town, clutching song sheets between chattering teeth, shivering hooves, and shaky telekinesis. Fluttershy stood on the podium in front of the Town Hall, patiently waiting for everyone to arrive.

“Uhm, good evening, everypony! I… uhm, is this on? Oh, I forgot to… Ah, right, thank you. Good evening everypony! Uh, as I’m sure you’re aware, tonight’s our first practice session, and, uh… I hope everypony brought their sheets, but it’s okay if you didn’t, I brought spares… Can… Can everypony line up? If it’s not too much trouble… Oh, thank you. R-right then… One, two…”

She tapped her hoof on the podium, and gestured to Rainbow Dash.

“Three months of winter coolness…”

Letters and Late Fees

“ ‘… but, luckily, we were able to find all the teeth, and managed to pay the Mayor’s ransom!

Your faithful student, Twilight Sparkle.’ ”

Celestia smiled, and rolled up the report. She was about to compose a reply when a second rush of smoke and flame indicated another letter. The hue of green was unmistakeable, it was clearly Spike’s, but there was no reason for Twilight to send another letter so soon after the last one.

Intrigued, Celestia floated it over and broke the seal, unrolling the parchment and reading.

“ ‘Madam,

Your most dutiful servant, Spike, humbly requests that Your Highness forward the contents of the following missive to your servant, Adalinda, on his behalf, if it does not inconvenience Your Highness.

I have the honour to be, Madam, Your Highness’ humble and obedient servant,

Spike.’ ”

Attached was a folded parchment, addressed to the Adalinda mentioned in the letter. Celestia chuckled to herself.

“He’s always so formal when he writes, unlike Twilight…” she mused, getting up and taking the folded letter with her. She strolled through the halls of Canterlot palace, nodding her head at the various servants and visitors when they bowed and curtsied as she passed.

Shortly, she came to the doors of one of the palace’s many towers, the one that housed the Princesses’ extensive library. A guard opened the door at her approach, and she quickly stepped inside, and wandered up to the main desk. She set the letter on the desk, and rung the bell for attention.

Somewhere, high above, came the sound of fluttering pages, followed by a strong blast of warm air as a great winged dragon carefully threaded their way through the walkways and spiralling stairs, down to the reception. While nowhere near as large as other specimens of dragonkind, it was at least five times the height of the Princess herself, but evidently the tower had been designed with such sizes in mind.

“Ah, your highness, always a pleasure. Come to return a book, have you? Your late fees probably extend to most of the royal treasury by now.” The dragon asked, staring down her enormous spectacles at the Princess, her voice clearly giving her away as female, though tempered by age.

“Then it’s a good job that, as Princess, all these books are my personal property and I’m exempt from charges, isn’t it?” Celestia smirked.

The dragoness snorted, a little wisp of smoke floating away to the upper floors. “You never change, Celestia. I would like that copy of A Mare’s Desire back, all the same. You’ve had it nearly a century, and you’re down here every week with your post!”

“But I’m only just getting to the good bit, my dear Adalinda! Besides, Luna borrowed it.” Celestia retorted, almost defensively. “Speaking of post, there’s one for you this week.”

Adalinda raised a scaled eyebrow and glanced at the comparatively tiny scrap of parchment on the desk below. Reaching down, she daintily picked it up and unfolded it, adjusting her glasses to read the tiny handwriting.

Her features softened as she read, smiling broadly, occasionally chuckling. When she’d finished, she folded it back up and placed it, with care, back on the desk.

“How is he?” Celestia asked, looking up at the librarian.

“Just fine, Celestia.” She smiled, happily. “My Spike, working in a library for your scatter-brained apprentice… Like mother, like son, mm?”

Celestia grinned. “I’m sure he’s as great a help to her as you were, and are, to me, my dear Adalinda. Now, while I’m here, I appear to have mislaid my copy of A Disreputable Stallion, you couldn’t get another in for me, could you?”

Adalinda sighed, and rolled her eyes. “Your wish is my command, O Princess of a Thousand Dawns.”

“Don’t start.” Celestia frowned at the dragoness, eyes narrowing.

“Start what, O Light of the Morning?”

“Addy.”

“Oh, alright. Though really, what you see in those trashy things is beyond even me. Give me Taciturn’s Histories any day.” The dragoness muttered, returning to work.

“Thank you, Addy~” Celestia sang, smiling sweetly at her and giving a mock curtsy before prancing away.

Adalinda watched her compose herself at the doors, striding back out with regal grace, and laughed to herself.

“A thousand years on and that filly’s still a handful…”

Morning Routine

Sepia Tock awoke in a cold sweat, vague and disturbing images burning his mind’s eye as anguished cries in an unknown tongue faded away.

He sat in his bed for a moment, just breathing, clearing his head. The blankets had been kicked off in his throes, and his two pillows were on opposite sides of the room.

Nightmares. Third time that week. And always the same. Those voices, voices he recognised and yet… He could never make out who they belonged to, or what they were saying, but he saw them reach out to him, he heard them scream his name.

But it wasn’t his name. It had never been his name. It was just a nightmare. He glanced at the clock on his bedside table, as the moonlight fell across the face. It glowed in the pale light, luminescing with light all its own. His own design, of course, he wasn’t Ponyville’s best clockmaker for nothing.

5:02 AM. Nearly dawn.

It was always 5:02 AM. Every night he had those dreams, those same dreams, he always awoke at 5:02 AM.

He looked at the clock again. It was an odd thing, and he’d made it on a whim. Tall and blue, painted wood with little panels. He’d even installed doors at the back, with tiny glass panels, and on top was a little gemstone that shone when the clock needed re-winding. He’d never had the heart to sell it.

He sighed, and dragged himself out of the bed, putting the covers back to where they should be. As he passed the bookshelves, his gaze lingered a moment on another one of his timepieces, a simple fob watch with an intricate pattern of overlapping circles on the cover.

He was suddenly struck by the urge to open it. It was an irrational urge, his mind told him, he already knew what the time was, and that fob had never kept good time anyway.

Or had it? When was the last time he’d looked at it?

He reached out his hoof and deftly swept the fob onto his foreleg, carefully placing it on the floor.

He stared at it, critically inspecting it. A scratch cut across some of the circles, marring the design. Rust had set in to the chain, slowly eating away. The finish was tarnished, blackened in places, almost like scorch marks.

For some reason, he found it hard to concentrate on it. His body and mind kept reminding him of a thousand other things to do, anything to take his attention away from that little watch.

He shook them away and steeled himself. Quickly, he jabbed his hoof at the catch, and instinctively shrunk back.

When he dared open his eyes, he saw an innocuous, innocent little fob watch, coming up to 5:15. The minute hand ticked, and a tinny little chime announced the quarter hour.

Sepia yawned, shrugged, and put it back on the shelf. Time for work.

Equestria

Across an infinite expanse of grass, under a black and starless sky, ran The Herd. They had run since time eternal, and would run 'til the fields were ended.

Each was midnight black, and bore a horn and wings. On their backs rested the stars, each lighting the way before them.

One, little Equestria, had no burden. She ran in the dark, no star to guide her, following her brothers and sisters and trusting them to light the way.

Equestria envied her brothers and sisters their star-burdens, and sought to create her own. She dug at the earth with her hooves, lifting a ball of dirt, grass and seed onto her back, but it would not shine. She ran on with The Herd, and her tears of sorrow watered the ball, running along its surface and pooling into seas, oceans and rivers.

When Equestria looked back at her failed world, she noticed two fireflies, one shining brighter than the other, had begun to circle it, attempting to make it shine like the stars.

Grateful for their efforts, she gave them her power and remade them in her image, naming the brighter light Celestia, and the lesser light Luna. To these she gave the task of protecting the fledgling world, determined that one day it would rival that of her sisters and brothers.

To this end, Celestia and Luna walked the earth, their light providing life and making the seeds and plants spring forth. From their walking and care came the first races of Equestria, the dragons, griffins, buffalo, serpents, hydra, and all other manner of beasts, great and small.

But Celestia and Luna found no comfort in their new companions, and felt alone in the world. They entreated Equestria for others like themselves, and the great alicorn gave them another gift, the spark of creation.

Celestia took the spark and wove her magic into the world. The waters rose to the sky as clouds, and from these, Celestia created her first children.

"I shall give unto them my wings, that they may roam the skies and care for it. I will call them Pegasus, for they were born of the water and the air, and there they will make their home."

Celestia worked again, and her light and fire infused the world, warming it and gifting it with magic. From this, she created her second children.

"I shall give unto them my horn, that they may channel and control the magic of the world, to weave it and command it as they will. I will call them Unicorn, and in their hearts and minds will burn the fires of curiosity and knowledge, that they may learn about us and the world we have given them."

Under the Pegasi's labours and the Unicorn's guidance, the planet flourished, but the animals and plants ran wild, untamed.

Luna, seeing this, took the spark from her sister and breathed her own magic into the world. From the earth sprang two wingless, hornless ponies, one brown as the earth, the other striped black and white.

Celestia scoffed at her sister's creation.

"They have neither horns, nor wings, what use will they be in guiding the world?"

Luna turned to her sister and replied.

"They have no wings that they may be closer to the ground. They have no horns that they may never forget the toil and labour they will endure to keep the world in order. To them I give dominion and authority over all plants and creatures that inhabit our world. They will be the Earth Ponies, for from the Earth they came, and over Earth do they have their power."

Celestia mocked her sister's efforts, and the two lights began to compete in their creations. In their strife, the spark of creation fell from their hooves and plummeted to the earth, where it ran rampant. From this came Discord, the ancient trickster and source of all chaos.

The sisters realised their error and, weeping, entreated Equestria once more to save her world from their mistake. The great alicorn gave one last gift to the sisters, plucking three feathers from each and weaving them into the Elements of Harmony.

Using their power, the sisters bound Discord in a prison of stone, but the world could not be freed of his chaos. Where once the creatures of the world worked together in harmony and friendship, they now fought in hate and anger.

The Unicorns, seeking an end to all this, brought together the Pegasi and the Earth Ponies, and they three created a nation where they would be safe. The Striped, known as the Zebra, disagreed with this course of action, proclaiming that hiding away would solve nothing, and that they should work in harmony with the races of the world as they once did. They left the new nation and went away to their own country, where to this day they still live closer to nature in an attempt to bring harmony back to the world.

The Pegasi, Unicorns and Earth Ponies, seeking a leader, asked the sisters to rule over them and guide them, and they named them 'Princess'. So began the rule of Celestia and Luna, and the beginning of a nation that would stand for many thousands of years.

... and that's how Equestria was made.

Cold Flight, Warm Hearth

The sky above Ponyville was thick with grey cloud, as another helping of snow began to fall. Inside their homes, the ponies of the town were gathered in front of blazing fires and warm hearths, celebrating the day of Equestria's founding with their family and loved ones.

This year, Rainbow Dash was alone. Her responsibilities as the leader of Ponyville's weather team kept her in town over the holiday, and traditionally she would go spend time with her family in Cloudsdale at a later date to make up for it. Besides, the pay bonus was always welcome.

She stood on the edge of her cloud-home, which at this time of year was mostly obscured by the banks of snow clouds that sat near-permanently over Equestria during winter. She pulled her scarf tighter and tucked the ends into her jacket for extra warmth. Her saddlebags were bound tight around her waist, carrying one last Hearth's Warming gift she had left to deliver.

Stretching her wings, she inhaled deeply, enjoying the feeling of the crisp winter air blowing through her mane and running through her feathers. With a crouch and a leap, she dove off the edge of her estate and down into the thinner clouds below, scything through them with her wings folded before bringing herself into a glide as she passed over the town.

Dash enjoyed flying in the snow. It offered far more challenge than a simple flight on a summer afternoon, and the biting wind tended to dissuade all but the most dedicated of thrill-seeking pegasi. Another blast of icy wind blew over Dash's wings as she banked into it, flying on the up-draught back up and through the cloud cover.

She revelled the feeling of the cloud soaking her mane and coat, the sudden chill giving her body an extra push as her heart pumped faster to warm her. With a spin, she pointed down and punctured through the clouds, soaring over Sweet Apple Acres and shaking the last few stubborn leaves off the orchard trees.

She turned towards her destination, giving another beat of her wings to push her forward, leaving the farm behind. Following the path of the nearby stream, she soon came to Fluttershy's Cottage. With one final wing-beat, she slowed her descent, landing lightly on the snow-covered meadow.

Light streamed from the window of the cottage, and as Dash approached, the door swung open, framing the silhouette of Fluttershy as she stood in the doorway, beckoning.

Hurrying inside, she shook the snow off her body and breathed a sigh of relief, shivering as she acclimated to the warmth of Fluttershy's home.

"Rainbow! Are you alright? You know flying in this weather is dangerous!" the yellow pegasus said, fussing around her friend as she helped her with her jacket.

"Psh, I'm fine. Flying in that? Nothin'!" Rainbow replied, ruffling her mane with her hooves and shaking out the last few ice crystals. "Happy Hearth's Warming, Fluttershy."

"And you, Rainbow." the normally timid pegasus grabbed her friend in a warm hug. "Can I get you some hot chocolate?"

"That'd be great, thanks. Oh! Fluttershy!"

Fluttershy stopped half-way to the kitchen.

"How is he?"

She smiled, pointing towards the back room. Rainbow followed, nodding to Angel as she passed, the little rabbit lounging in front of the fire with a book and a carrot in his paws. He gave a curt nod back, as one equal to another.

Smirking, Rainbow pushed the door to the back room open, heading inside. There, on top of a table, was a cardboard box, painted with a design reminiscent of her own cutie mark.

She unhitched her saddlebags and pulled out a small box of her own, opening it to reveal a pair of fins, carved to look like pegasus wings. Leaning over the table, she nudged the lid off the larger box, revealing a round shape within.

"Happy Hearth's Warming, buddy. I know you'll sleep right through it, but I got you somethin' anyway. I'll just put 'em on you for when you wake up in spring, okay?"

The motionless Tank didn't respond, deep in hibernation. Rainbow smiled at her beloved companion and gently affixed the fins to his shell. As she closed the lid of the box, Fluttershy leant her head in.

"Your hot chocolate's out here by the fire, Dash. When you're ready, that is."

Rainbow Dash grinned at her friend. "Sure, I'll be with ya in a sec'."

~~~

Merry Christmas to one and all! Whether you celebrate it or not!

Experimental Report: Animus

A Study on the Prolonged Effects of a 'Come to Life' Spell on an Inanimate Object
by Twilight Sparkle and AAAA.

Aim:
The aim of this experiment was to observe the effects of a 'Come to Life' spell on an inanimate object over a prolonged period of time, and determine the cause of any observed 'behaviour', as first observed by the renowned electro-arcanist Galponi.

Method:

A pair of identical objects will be taken, one to be used as the control and the second as the subject. A 'Come to Life' spell, as described in the works of Golem & Familiar, 4th Edition, will be cast upon the object and maintained by a self-sustaining feedback circle inscribed onto the object, according to the Ouroboros Theorem.

The animated object will be observed over a number of days, and effects of the spell will be recorded and compared with the control. The experiment will terminate after seven days, and the object will be freed from its enchantment.

For this experiment, the object chosen is an edition of the textbook Advanced Alchemy for the Aspiring Arcanist, by the Rune Sisters. This object has been chosen for its simplicity, inability to move, and being easily replaceable in the event of an arcane backlash.

Results:

Day One:
The two textbooks are sitting side-by-side on the library's front desk, facing the door. While the control shows no observable change, the enchanted copy of the textbook has exhibited some autonomous behaviour, such as opening when being directly observed. How the book is able to determine when a pony is looking directly at it and not past it is not yet known, but I observe that the effect only occurs if the pony is within a distance whereby they might read the text. It has so far been observed to open only to the index page, and has provided some small amusement for the library's patrons.

Day Two:
Still no change to the control.

The animated book appears to be exhibiting some signs of sentience, as it now opens to a spell relevant to the observer's interests. This was first observed when Spike walked past the book on his way out to buy lunch, and it flicked to a spell for creating enchanted gemstones from simple reagents.

Further cases of this were observed and reported (sometimes indignantly and with great volume) by the patrons. Decided to move books away from front desk when a stallion entered the library and the spell book flicked forward to nothing in particular but fortunately we were able to pry the unfortunate stallion from the rafters.

Day Three:
No change to control.

The enchanted book seems to have become inactive now it has been moved to the kitchen and is no longer visible to patrons.

Day Four:
No change to Johnson.

Awoke to find enchanted book on my bedside table. I have no recollection of moving it, and Spike insists he hasn't gone near it since the... Incident. Returned book to kitchen and observed no further unusual effects.

Day Five:
No change to control. Actually, he was just asleep.

Was awoken shortly after midnight by particularly girly scream from Spike. Galloped into kitchen to find him cowering in the corner, staring wide-eyed at the book. Could get no useful information from incoherent gibbering and returned him to bed.

When morning came, Spike refused to get up or disclose what had happened, so left him in bed. Came downstairs to find book missing. No further observations could be made.

Day Six:
By the sun why did i choose a textbook of MAGIC of all things

the doors locked, i cant open it nopony can hear me its in here i know it i can feel it looking at me

caught glimpse of book flying between rafters like bird, keep hearing rustling pages

book perched on desk in front of me

seems to be searching me just keep calm keep writing maybe it will go away

book emitting high magical signatu

Everything is fine, nothing to worry about.

IT GOT MY QUILL BUT I HAVE IT BACK NOW

OH PONYFEATHERS

THEYRE EVERYWHERE

BOOKS WHY

Day Seven:
After long and difficult struggle, have managed to destroy book by casting Living Tether Spell on book and control, and having Spike incinerate control. Lost 20% of library stock in resulting magic-infused flames as book defended itself, but eventually succumbed to spell.

Book's thralls appear to be unresponsive, and paper golems have returned to constituent parts. Still cannot account for missing cutlery and daisy sandwich. Library in state of disarray from fight. Basement flooded from animated brooms. Carpet has been subdued but still exhibits signs of aggression, currently pinned under dresser.

Discussion:
I suppose, in retrospect, bringing to life a book of spells was not one of my better ideas, although I did not foresee that it would be able to USE the spells contained within it.

Results seem to correspond with Galponi's theories about inanimate lifeform sentience, further research required.

Conclusion:

NEVER. DOING THIS. AGAIN.

'Til next time, Sparkle.

One-Bit Novels

"You won't get away with this, Ahuizotl!" panted Daring Do as the evil demon's panther lackey tightened the ropes binding her to the stone slab.

"Oh, but I already have!" he replied, smirking with murderous intent as he leant over and pulled the large lever sticking out of the stone wall.

The ground rumbled and the chamber echoed with the sound of ancient machinery grinding into action, as stones fell from the roof!

"Not again!" Daring grumbled, straining against her bonds as Ahuizotl looked dusted his coat nonchalantly. With a bound, he leapt from the room, his minions quickly following. The stone door slammed into place behind them, trapping Daring in the room!

She realised with mounting fear that the walls were not only rumbling, but were now moving towards her! Spikes shot out from the stone with a metallic ring, their points glistening in the flicking torchlight!

As if that wasn't bad enough, deadly spiders emerged from the cracks in the walls in their hundreds, clambouring along the spikes towards her! Without missing a beat, an ominous hiss came from the detailed relief of the Sun Demon, as venomous snakes poured from its mouth, eager to sink their fangs into Daring's flesh!

Only one thing could possibly make this situation any worse, and Ahuizotl didn't disappoint.

The stone table shifted under Daring, and she looked in horror at the sudden sea of sand that surrounded her!

"Quicksand!" she exclaimed, renewing her struggle with the ropes as snakes and spiders crawled around her and the sands began to rise!

This seemed to be the end for our brave heroine, but her brilliant mind had already seen a solution! Tipping off her safari helmet, she put one end over her hoof and, biting the other end, pulled with all her might!

With a snap the helmet flew across the chamber, bouncing off a spike and looping the Sun Demon's nose three times before ricocheting off the walls and striking the lever! With a clank, the deadly machine went into reverse, as the snakes and spiders retreated back to their lairs!

With one last push, the ropes broke! Our heroine was free! Knocking sand out of her ears and dusting off her trusty hat, she smiled and said:

"Another day, another dungeon!"

~~~

... and so, with Ahuizotl defeated and the Sapphire Statue secured, the world was safe and sound once again, thanks to Daring Do!

Fleur de Lis closed the book and scoffed as she put it back down on the mahogany table, taking a sip of her fruit brandy.

"As if anyone with half a brain would design such an overly complicated and completely pointless trap! And that part with the lava pit..." she said to herself, nickering.

As she mused, her gaze wandered around the room, eventually settling on one particularly beautiful little piece resting on her mantle: a statuette of a two-headed jackal, sitting with its paws protecting a precious gem, all rendered in the finest sapphire.

"I didn't have nearly as much trouble getting mine." she added, grinning.

The Taste of Bitter Almonds

I trudged along the streets of Downtown Manehattan, the rain soaking into my coat. It pooled on the rim of my hat and poured down my nose, and my horseshoes were sodden. I didn't want to be out in this, and it seemed I wasn't the only one. The streets were near-empty, even accounting for the late time. But a case is a case, and this is where my contact had led me.

Corner of 38th Street, 'The Yellow Crescent'.

I looked up at the sign, rain running off my hat and down my mane. It seemed like it'd taken a few knocks. I couldn't tell if it was meant to be a crescent moon or a banana. From the outside, the place looked like a run-down dive. The bricks were crumbling, the mortar barely holding the structure together. Windows were smashed in. The strong smell of cheap punch pierced through the rain.

I shook some of the excess water off myself, and pushed open the door. My first impression was everyone turning to look at me, but I expected that. You don't work in this town, doing what I do, without getting some recognition, but I knew they wouldn't try anything. Not here. Because while the Crescent was a dive, it was neutral territory. A place where all the gangs of Manehattan could meet and do business.

The perfect place for some undercover information.

I'd hit a wall on the Bright Eyes case. Over a hundred witnesses, but they all gave conflicting testimony. But one dame, she broke under the pressure. Near-hysterical. Gave me my first real lead on the case. I knew somepony had been paying them off; that there was something deeper under this all, and the tangled web I was uncovering just seemed to get worse and worse. No amount of brushing was gonna fix this one.

I made my way across to the bar, taking a sweeping glance at everything and everyone around me. The Crescent looked a bit more respectable inside, with wooden panelling, likely oak judging by the staining, and walls lined with red velvet. Smoke shrouded the tables, but I saw a flash of cards and could hear the ringing of bits. Some patrons turned to their partners and muttered, shooting glances in my direction. The strains of a weary jazz band drifted over.

The bartender looked like a stallion you didn't mess with. He stood, at a guess, fifteen hands high, and sported a collar, with more than a few knife and teeth marks in it. I wouldn't have been surprised if he had a pair of studded horseshoes for the awkward customers. He looked at me and glowered, brow sinking down until it nearly obscured his eyes.

"No flathooves in this bar. Yer trouble, all of yer. Geddout." he spat at me. I took a step back and raised a hoof.

"I'm jus' here for a drink an' some talk. No trouble, I promise."

His brow sunk even lower and I swear his growling sounded like an Ursa. Thinking fast, I carefully reached into my pocket and pulled out a small pouch of bits with my teeth, tossing it to the bar. That unmistakeable clink as they hit the wood made him change his tone, and he even attempted to smile.

"Righ'. What'll it be? An' I ain' sellin' nuthin' illegal. All above-board 'ere. Ain't got no rhubarb."

"I'll jus' have the Apricot Rose. Give it a shot of lime, too."

I leant against the bar, happy to rest my hooves while the barman fetched me my cocktail. The band had just struck up another piece, starting with a lively sax solo. As I looked around the place once again, trying to pin my contact, my eyes met a pair belonging to a face I really didn't want to see.

The unmistakeable cyan coat. The two-tone mane. That tailored linen suit. The black lacquered harp case.

Heartstrings.

She smirked at me, but didn't give any other indication that she'd seen me. The other mobsters at her table just carried on their game of cards. But now I was worried. That dame had that effect on ponies. Heartstrings was one of the best clean-up mares in the city, and if she was here tonight, somepony was gonna get their clock cleaned.

I just hoped it wasn't gonna be me.

I was nudged out of my introspection by the barman tapping me on the shoulder. I could feel the iron studs in his shoes with even that light of a touch. He slid my drink across, and I was pleased to see it even had a rosebud in it. My opinion of the Crescent went up a notch. Any stallion that can mix a proper Apricot Rose was worth his salt in my books.

Carefully levering the glass in my teeth, I took a sip. At the end of a long day, there was nothing like a glass of punch to ease your aching hooves. All the delicate flavours, the apricot, the rose petals, the twist of lime, melded together perfectly. But there was something else I couldn't quite place.

I didn't have time to ponder it, as a zebra settled next to me at the bar. I recognized him, as well. There was no mistaking that pinstripe and the gold teeth. Korianga, boss of half the gangs in Manehattan. The snake had slipped through the hoofs of the law more times than I cared to count, and half the police were on his payroll. It's why they needed mares like me.

"Inspector Bon Bon," he said, as one equal would to another, flashing that golden grin at me. I gave a curt nod back. I wasn't sure what he wanted with me, but it can't have been anything good. After all, I'd put him away more than once.

"Ah calm down, Sweets," he said, almost reading my mind. "I haven't got any grass with you. Just taking an evening off, like yourself."

I continued to say nothing, focusing on identifying that flavour I couldn't place.

Korianga leant over, grinning. "How's your drink?"

My eyes went wide and I dropped the glass. It shattered on the floor. Now I knew that taste.

Everypony in the bar stopped and looked at me. I could swear they were all grinning. I turned to Korianga and grabbed him by the collar of his expensive suit.

"Antidote. Now."

He looked confused, so I struck him a good right hoof to jog his memory. Perhaps I jogged it a bit too hard, because he hit the floor and went out like a light.

Korianga's goons leapt up at the sight, shouting threats and promises at me as they rushed the bar. The barman just calmly ducked down, he knew what was coming. I braced myself, setting my hooves apart. If I was gonna die tonight, then by Celestia, I was gonna take them down with me.

The first goon came flying at me, literally. Thinking fast, I grabbed a neighbour's drink and threw it at the incoming's wings. Knocked him off trajectory straight into the stallion whose drink I stole. Two down. Another came at me from the right, and span around to buck me one. I managed to move out of the way just in time, as splinters flew up from the bar as it cracked under the blow. That would've hurt. Fortunately, the barman clocked him over the skull with a heavy hoof and brought him crashing down.

Now smaller brawls were picking up at other tables. Gamblers taking the chance to settle old scores. Rival gangs seeing an opportunity for advancement. But in the chaos I knew I wasn't gonna find what I was looking for. Korianga probably still had the antidote on him, but there was no way I was gonna be able to search him now. I ducked as a magically thrown stool arced over my head and hit a row of bottles, exploding into shards of glass and juice.

Another gang member rushed me, and managed to get in a blow. I hit the floor and slid a few feet into a table, knocking it over. My head was ringing as I felt myself picked up by telekinesis and flung aside. Last I saw before blacking out was Heartstrings beating the mobster hard over the head with her harp case.

~~~

I woke up some time later, still lying where I fell. First thing I saw was Heartstrings leaning over me, her suit clean as a whistle and not a hair out of place. I don't know how she does it.

I looked up, vision still swimming as a full percussion section played a concert in my head. It was complete chaos. Ponies slumped everywhere in various states of health. Wrecked tables and chairs. Glass scattered like flower petals at a wedding. All the good stuff draining into the floorboards. I could see the sax player groggily trying to find his way to the exit, his instrument dented way outta shape from making contact with a guy's skull.

"Not going to cause any trouble, huh?" she said, grinning, as she helped me stand up. A mobster, sure, but she had nothing to gain against me.

It was then that I remembered why I was lying there to start with. "Antidote! I was poisoned!"

She tilted her head at me for a moment, then the light of comprehension dawned in her eyes and she laughed.

"Antidote? Hah! You thought they'd put something in your drink, didn't you?"

"... But they did! Korianga outright admitted it!"

"Ah, Inspector..." she said, picking bits of glass out of my mane with her magic. "Don't you know it's the house's speciality to add almonds?"

The Mark

Long ago, when the world was young, the races of the land ponies later called Equestria lived according to the cycles of the changing seasons. Spring, when life returned from the dead and the cold, gave way to summer, when the sun shone and fruit ripened. Autumn came in the twilight when the world began to fall asleep, and gave way to winter, when all was frozen and barren.

They planted their crops in the spring and harvested in the autumn, following the endless arc of the celestial bodies as they danced through the eternal night. Small cogs of a greater machine, that meted out the universe' existence with every swing of the pendulum and turning of the gears.

But the world was not impersonal. Each concept that graced the world had a form, a being, a name. Spring ran wild in the meadows at dawn, shaking the dew from her hair as the pale light of the morning sun glistened off her scales. Budding flowers and leaves were left in her wake, each carefully crafted within her gentle hands.

Summer, the pompous Lord of the Light, strode across the land, and the world around him would grow in splendour to reflect his majesty. His face was the sun of the midday, his coat the lush leaves of the forest. He granted life to wherever he willed, but his anger was unbearable. The earth would scorch under his gaze and the grass would wither.

Autumn came in his footsteps, the kindly elder who stored away the life of the planet so it would survive another winter. Her pelt was the flames of the hearth and the red, gold and orange of the trees, and in her claws she clutched the harvest, spreading it across the world so that none would go hungry.

Winter was two-faced, both haughty and humble, cold and warm, hard and gentle. It could not be seen, for to see the face of winter was to perish in its cold, but its beautiful craft was a source of admiration to many. Each flake it would breath to be different from those that came before, and each surface on which it left its touch would be latticed with the crisp and clear beauty of ice and frost.

And for the races of that land, Equestria, this was enough. The world would continue ere it always had done, and the forces that kept it so well would strive to keep it still.

But for one race, it never was enough.

While the dragons become masters of their own domain and the gryphons found their home in the crags and cliffs, or while the buffalo eked out a stoic but happy existence on the open plains, the pony found itself alone and defenceless in the world.

Its cousin, the zebra, was at home in both the jungles and the grasslands. The donkeys and the mules were content with their lot. But the pony grumbled.

When Spring came, the last wicked touches of Winter would kill the seeds as they slept in the earth.

When Summer came, the crop would be burnt under his majestic gaze, and fruit alone was not enough to sustain the herds.

When Autumn came, the days grew short and cold and the shelter once provided by the forests turned to dust.

Winter they loathed most of all, for they were hungry, and could find no pasture anywhere.

The three tribes of pony, Earth, Pegasus, and Unicorn, gathered together in one place to plan a course of action. They would not go on living under the rule of the seasons, but would take the world for themselves, to control the weather, to raise the sun and moon, to clean winter and bring spring, at their own time and bidding.

Three were chosen, one from each tribe, to make their way to the centre of the Deep Forest, the home of the elder spirits, and there steal the six elements that allowed them control over the world.

The three swiftly reached the borders of the Deep Forest, where even the trees were alive in the presence of their masters. They fought their way through the thickets and the woods, until they came upon the Castle of the Seasons. They met no resistance as they made way to the central courtyard of the castle, for the Seasons never saw fit to guard their keep.

Before them in the courtyard stood a great fountain, on which rested five stones. The Earth Pony reached out and took two, naming them Kindess and Honesty. The Pegasus reached out and took two, naming them Loyalty and Laughter. Finally, the Unicorn took the fifth, naming it Generosity.

Upon the removal of the fifth stone, the fountain dried up and the stone beneath their hooves began to crack and crumble. The timbers of the castle rotted and fell, tiles smashed to the earth as the very land around the keep shattered and fell away, stranding the quaking ruins on a cliff-top surrounded by a deep gorge. The woods themselves howled in torment as the force that kept them in control faded away.

The Seasons appeared before the Three, furious. Lord Summer spoke first, as the three ponies averted their eyes from his blazing glory.

"See now what you have done! The world will wither and wane without the power that kept it in balance!" he cried, even as his own form began to fade.

"The cycle is ended, no more will it move of its own accord," spoke Spring, as her buds decayed before the ponies.

"No more will the land bear life and fruit, in this eternal sleep," spoke Autumn, as the crone grew older.

Winter merely remained silent. Turning its heads towards the ponies, it spoke gently.

"You realise not what you have taken upon yourselves, little ones. The world is your charge, now. To keep or to destroy. The sun will not rise without your intervention, nor set unless it is guided. The seasons will not turn without you to oil the great wheels. Water will not move without the sweat of your brow flowing with it. Rain will not come unless you first shed tears of grief."

It leant forward, and opened its great, rime-encrusted claws.

"But I will give you both a boon and a curse. Take Magic, for Magic is the binding of the six. While you yet have Magic, the world will not seem so dark and dead."

Winter let the sixth orb fall, and the Unicorn took it, naming it Friendship. Before them, Winter turned its baleful gaze back upon the three, as the other head spoke, haughty, frosty and in contempt.

"Yet you will not be without adversary. You have slain the Seasons, and their remnant shall ever be with you. As the light of the sun casts shadows, and the moon is dark for half her days, neither can Harmony exist without Discord to balance it. While yet you still draw breath on this land, Discord will go with you. He will bear our form, and bear our power. He will drive your people to the brink of destruction."

The other head turned again.

"And a second curse I give unto you, that all the world will know what you have wrought this day."

Winter touched each of the Three upon their back, and as they cried aloud in pain, a mark took form upon them.

"You alone of the peoples of this land will bear this Mark. It will be a sign to the world that while you stole the powers of nature for your own, you are now their masters. You will be reviled and you will be hated. Your Mark will ever be upon you and your children, 'til the days of this world are ended and the wheels at last cease to turn."

With these words, Winter faded away with its brethren, and the Seasons came to an end. The ponies looked at themselves, and found each had taken the form of the other. The Unicorn, black as night and with stars in her mane, called herself Luna. The Pegasus, white as the clouds and with all the colours of the morning sky in her mane, called herself Celestia. The third took no name, for he was ever an Earth Pony, and an Earth Pony he would remain.

Luna brought down the moon.

Celestia raised the sun.

And a new era dawned.

Derpyganger

As the sun began its slow descent and red and orange tinted the sky, a slate-grey pegasus with golden eyes made her way back to her home in Ponyville, yawning and subsequently colliding with a lamppost. She slid down the iron pole and hit the ground with a thump, peeling off from the metal with a 'pop'. She shook her head and her eyes went in all directions as they righted themselves to their ordinary, lop-sided position. A passing earth pony winced and leant over, looking concerned.

"You okay there, Derpy?" he asked as he checked both her and the lamppost for structural damage.

"Yup! Just fine! That thing came outta nowhere!" she chirped back, leaping back into the air and hovering. Her ordinarily messy mane had suddenly gained a quiff from its impact, but she was otherwise unaffected. Yawning again, she stumbled back to all fours and smiled. "Worn out after today's mail run. I've gotta get back. Have a good evening!"

She flew away with a wave to the earth pony, who just smirked, shrugged his shoulders, and carried on walking.

Derpy managed to get back to her home without further incident, and managed to unhitch the catch on the second attempt. She stumbled through the door and closed it behind her with a kick from her back hoof, and let out a breath in relief. Stifling another yawn, she drew the curtains and lit the lamps, then collapsed on her sofa in front of the fire.

"Finally," she muttered, as a small spark of light formed at her forehead. It worked its way down across her head, revealing a dull black carapace where previously there was grey coat and blonde mane. Her ears sharpened and a pointed horn appeared between her eyes as they changed from their golden hue to light blue compound spheres. Her teeth sharpened into fangs as the glow rushed down the rest of her body. Her hooves gave way to ragged appendages and her wings became translucent and torn. Finally, her golden tail disappeared and was replaced by a translucent tuft.

Her wings flickered, buzzing, as she drew herself off the sofa and stumbled towards the kitchen. Levering open a cupboard, she grabbed a bag of sugar by her fangs and tore it open, quickly chowing it down as it poured from the packet. She smiled, revitalized, and flopped back onto the sofa, picking up a small pile of letters addressed to her.

Opening the first, she found it to be an invitation to a party, one of Pinkie Pie's many. She could taste the threads of friendship on the card, taking a moment just to savour it. Smiling, she set it aside, and opened another. This she found to be a letter from a pen-friend she corresponded with in Manehattan. Reading the letter was like a delicious banquet for her, better than any material food, as the warmth, friendship and love that flowed from the words fed her.

She leant back and looked at a photo on the mantelpiece of her posing in front of the post office in town, and smiled happily to herself. She remembered, before coming to Ponyville, how she used to have to take form after form for scraps of feeling and emotion from passing acquaintances or travellers. But one day she saw a little pegasus foal, in a city far away, with a grey coat, blonde mane and tail, and the most beautiful golden eyes. Somehow, the sight captivated her: her, a cold and unfeeling changeling. Something about the colours, the simplicity of it. How happy she looked.

She copied the colours, she copied the messy, unkempt mane and long tail, but she could never quite get the eyes right. It had always been the eyes that gave her away in other towns. They knew she wasn't a real pony.

But then she'd found Ponyville. Tired and starved, using the last of her strength to keep up the illusion, she'd fallen into the town and met an exuberant pink pony who instantly befriended her. True friendship. The first she'd ever tasted in her life. It was incredible, and enough to bring her back from the brink.

She'd got a job. She'd rented a room, and slowly, slowly she had made friends. Real friends. They teased her for her eyes, but it was friendly teasing, and she could even find the fruit in that. Her natural clumsiness, accentuated by having to concentrate to keep the illusion going all day long, earned her a nickname, 'Derpy Hooves', and it had stuck.

She had been living in Ponyville for years, right under everyone's noses. A changeling in the form of a pony.

But she loved them all. And she knew that they loved her, too.

Origami

"You know, Spike, after how well our last experiment went, I'd have thought that you'd have thought this through."

"Well, how was I to know that he'd got into your parchments? Besides, it was the Princess who sent us the book on paper-folding as a present."

Twilight poked her nose out from her hiding spot under the library table and was greeted by a tiny burst of flame. She quickly retreated.

"At least we didn't have any bigger pieces of parchment... But we can't stay under here all day!" she said, frustrated.

"I don't know, it's pretty comfortable."

"Spike!"

"Twilight, I tried setting them on fire, it didn't work! Any parchment just gets sent to the Princess, you know that! I mean, you use me as a postal service at least three times a week!"

Twilight slumped down, sighing. From under the table she could look out at the library main floor, where a veritable paper jungle had sprung up. Paper flowers grew among groves of paper trees. A paper frog hopped obliviously past her, and was pounced on by a small paper tiger. A paper dragon sat on the table just above her, patient to wait for its 'prey' to re-emerge, firing little bursts of magical flame at paper birds that wheeled and circled above.

Spike inched forward, nose to nose with Twilight, and watched the scene unfold with her in silence, broken only by the rustling of a thousand delicate little creations. A paper butterfly fluttered under the table and rested momentarily on the end of his snout, before continuing it's flight back over the little forest of folded lilies to their right.

"If we could make it to the kitchen we could try soaking them." Twilight said, at last.

"There's a herd of buffalo in that direction." Spike replied.

"Well... They're herbivores... Right?"

"I think they're grazing on the carpet."

"How does that even work!? Oh, who am I kidding? They're controlled by the possibly malevolent spirit of a book of magic I stupidly brought to life and subsequently set on fire after fighting tooth and hoof against it for control of my library!"

Twilight groaned and rolled over onto her back, staring at a fixed point on the underside of the table, just to the left of a wad of chewing gum.

"... Maybe I can reason with him?"

"How?" Spike replied, observing as two cranes fought over a particularly well-folded lotus bloom.

"Well, he lives in the paper, right? That's how he got out: he was hiding in my lab reports, then I placed them on your book, and then you put that book next to the pile of spare parchment."

"So...?"

"So, I can write to him! Spike, take a lett-"

"No quill."

"-er... Oh, ponyfeathers. And Owlicious is away at Fluttershy's cottage for the week... ... Wait, you could use your claw!"

"What!? Do you know how hard it is to get ink out of my scales?"

"Come on, Spike! We have to try something! I exhausted my repertoire of spells hours ago!"

"Fine! ... I'll see if I can reach the ink."

Spike edged closer to the edge of the table and quickly extended an arm to feel the top of the desk, managing to snag a pot of ink. Putting it carefully aside, he then tried to snag a paper flower before any of the more vicious fauna noticed his intruding limb in their cellulose environment. Unfolding it, he hesitantly dipped his finger into the ink and began to scratch a message on its surface.

" 'What... do... you... want...'," he muttered, etching out the words. "Should be simple enough. Now what?"

"Put it back out there and... then we wait."

Spike obliged and gingerly placed the paper down beyond the table's sheltering surface.

A paper rabbit poked its head out from behind a growing tree and hopped towards the unfolded letter, sniffing at it. The paper then began to fold itself into a new shape, becoming a little miniature pony. It trotted unsteadily back towards Spike and Twilight, falling over and unfolding itself in front of them.

The parchment now had a few thin, green lines of text written below Spike's original message.

" 'I want to be free.' " Spike read, picking up the message.

"B-but I can't have animate magic books running amok around my library!" Twilight protested, pointing an accusatory hoof at the complex ecosystem before them.

" 'I just want to browse.' " Spike continued, reading the words as they appeared on the paper.

Twilight groaned again, placing her hoof on her forehead. She deliberated for a few moments, seemingly fighting some internal battle, before relenting.

"Fine, if I give you a blank notebook and promise to move you from shelf to shelf occasionally, will you stop creating chaos in my home?"

The paper didn't respond. Instead, it freed itself from Spike's grip and re-folded itself into a flapping crane, floating away. The pair watched as the habitat before them slowly began to unfold and re-organize itself as stacks of unused parchment littering the floor of the library. Hundreds of sheets of paper swirled about the floorspace as creatures, plants and geology all reverted back to their natural state.

Cautiously, Twilight ventured out from under the table. The library was covered with paper, but at least it seemed to have stopped moving.

One small crane sat motionless in the centre of the floor. She floated it towards her, eyeing it critically, and smiled. Pulling a journal down from off a nearby shelf, she opened it to its centrefold and placed the crane down on the leafs. Before her eyes, it slowly unfolded and slipped between the pages as the book closed and moved, of its own accord, towards the fiction section.

"Luna," said a voice under the table.

"Yes, sister?" replied a voice under the writing desk.

"Have you thought of any way of getting rid of that flaming parchment phoenix yet?"

"I'm afraid not."

Celestia sighed. She was beginning to get a cramp.

Stratus

It was a cold morning.

Nearing the end of Autumn, as Celestia moved the orbit of the sun just slightly to allow the changing seasons to take place, Ponyville got very cold indeed. Frost began to seep in overnight, and although the sun of the morning scorched that frost away, it tended to leave behind something else.

Fog.

For unicorns and earth ponies, fog was nothing unusual. It was just a cloud in the wrong place. Some of the younger fillies and colts would play hide-and-seek in the mists, keeping themselves warm in the cold air by running about. Older ponies appreciated the beauty the fog brought to the town, especially as it began to clear and details, so often overlooked, were slowly revealed to waiting eyes.

However, there was a small sub-section of the Ponyville population that didn't appreciate the fog at all. It tended to give them trouble.

On this particular cold morning, the sun was just cresting the morning horizon when a demure yellow pegasus was awoken by the crowing of a rooster. She stretched, smiling as she blinked in the light that streamed through the drawn curtains. Gently, she pushed them back with a wing-tip, to see what the new day had brought.

She looked.

She blinked, and looked again.

She frowned a little, rubbed at the window with her wing, and looked again.

There was no mistaking it. Fog. Not just any fog, either. She couldn't even see the tree that she knew stood barely five paces from the window.

Fluttershy groaned, and briefly contemplated just going back to bed. This contemplation was broken by the soft, yet increasingly less so, tugging on her tail. She turned to see Angel Bunny standing there, napkin adorning his neck and plate held firmly in paw.

She gave him a loving nuzzle on the head and drifted towards the kitchen, hovering just above the floorboards. Angel had been a bit fussier than usual with his food lately, so she was taking great strides to please him. He had taken the notion into his little mind that simple lettuce and carrots were no longer good enough for a rabbit of his stature. He required butterhead lettuce and Chaterneigh carrots. Truth be told, the extra expense was beginning to burn a hole in Fluttershy's saddlebags. Fortunately, she mused, the phase seems to be passing. Just another couple of days and he might go back to normal.

Comforted by that thought, she opened the cupboard to find...

... Nothing.

Her head drooped. She was out of lettuce and carrots. She'd have to go to the market. Today. In the fog. Now.

Sighing, she turned tail and drifted, slightly less enthusiastically, towards the door. Angel glanced at her with a raised brow.

"I'm just going down to the market to get your breakfast, Angel. I'll be back soon." she replied. He wasn't happy with the response, but he didn't seem to have much choice in the matter. Coincidentally, neither did Fluttershy.

She pulled open the door, and stepped out.

Sorry, she pulled open the door and attempted to step out. Several times. The fog was having none of it.

You see, one problem with being a ground-bound pegasus is that you can't switch off your 'cloud walking' (as it was so delicately termed). Unicorns and earth ponies would pass through clouds as if they were nothing, but a pegasus could touch, feel and mold clouds. It was a large part of making the weather, after all.

Problems arose on days like today. Foggy days. That tactile nature of clouds to a pegasus tended to carry over to low-lying stratus clouds. That is to say, fog.

The fog was so thick this morning, that for Fluttershy it was like trying to force her way through a feather mattress. It took five minutes to reach the the little bridge over the brook that marked the end of her path.

At least an hour later, struggling and panting, Fluttershy reached the market square. One of the other problems with fog was that it was pretty hard to fly through, not that Fluttershy liked flying at the best of times. If anything, it was closer to swimming than flying. Either way, it was easier to walk, though not by a large margin.

The fog was slightly less thick in town, thankfully, but still it clung to her wings and mane like thick candy floss. Unicorns and earth ponies trotted by freely, unhindered by the baneful substance that Fluttershy was slowly beginning to loathe. She forced her way through the mists towards the market stalls, which were just being decorated in produce.

She barely noticed the shape of Applejack's cart, and was about to pass right by before her friend noticed her.

"G'mornin' Fluttershy! Yer lookin' mighty bushed there. Fog givin' yer trouble?" Applejack said, stepping out to join the worn-out pegasus.

"Y-yes, a little." Fluttershy admitted, taking a moment to catch her breath.

"Had a pegasus workin' the farm a while back. He always shirked off on foggy mornings, never understood why at th'time, but I guess it's hard for y'all to walk through somethin' yer used to standin' on, huh? Be like if I started swimmin' through mud!"

"It's n-not difficult, just..."

"I know, I know, don' need t'justify yerself to me, Fluttershy. Here, have some apples fer yer trouble. Don't look like this 'ere fog's clearin' up anytime soon, so it'll give yer some energy fer the return trip." Applejack said, flicking three apples off her tail directly into Fluttershy's saddlebags. She nodded gratefully and continued the seemingly unending slog towards the lettuce vendor.

When she finally reached the stall, she was fortunate enough to get the last of the butterhead lettuce. Its sweet flavour made it a favourite with many of the townsfolk, and it had a tendency to sell out within the first hour of market opening. Storing it safely beside the apples, she made her way back across the square towards the carrots.

Here, she was less fortunate.

"I'm sorry, Fluttershy," Carrot Top explained sympathetically, "I don't get enough custom from the Chaterneigh to make it worth me bringing it to market. If you want some that badly you'll have to go over to my farm for it. If you just leave some bits under the doormat you can help yourself from the barn, I trust you more than most of the folk here in Ponyville..." she added, scowling at a pony who was taking decidedly too intent an interest in a dangling carrot.

Fluttershy mumbled thanks, and with great effort, turned towards the direction of Carrot Top's farm. She knew it was just beyond Sweet Apple Acres, but...

"Oh, good morning, Miss Fluttershy." A deep voice boomed beside her, and she jumped. Big Mac smiled. "Sorry, didn' mean t'scare. I heard what Carrot Top jus' said, an', well, I'm headin' back towards Sweet Apple Acres myself with one of the carts. I can give you a lift, if y'like."

Fluttershy almost fainted from mixed exhaustion and gratitude.

It wasn't much fun riding in fog, either. It felt like having spider's webs plastered across your face every inch of the journey. Still, Big Mac plowed through the thick mists, parting them by the span of his shoulders alone, and it saved Fluttershy at least another hour of forced marching.

Once she'd arrived at Sweet Apple Acres, she thanked Big Mac and headed across the hill towards Carrot Top's farm. It was still hard-going, although the sun was beginning to thin the fog out enough for Fluttershy to walk with slightly less hindrance. Not much less, but she was thankful for small mercies.

She took a bunch of Chaterneigh carrots, and dutifully left the payment under the mat outside Carrot Top's home. Task accomplished, she began the slow trek towards her own home.

Exhausted. Short of breath. Soaked.

Fluttershy dragged her hooves through the last few steps. She could see the outline of her home in the fog. She was almost there.

She paused.

She could see something else in the fog. Something blue, with highlights.

It was rearing.

Realisation dawned on her just in time, and she ducked. A thunderous clap of hooves sent the fog spinning away, revealing the path, her house, and the blue figure standing in front of it, wiping her brow. Rainbow Dash looked up and smiled at her friend, waving.

"Oh, hey, Fluttershy! There you are. I just woke up, and came over to see if you wanted help clearing this fog!"

The Sleep of Reason

A young, white mare lay in the centre of a field of lush, green grass that swayed in the gentle summer breeze, creating ripples like waves upon the water. Around her were wild flowers that stretched in natural beds across the field, mixing and intertwining, a palette of pastel colours, yellows, purples, whites and rich reds. Above her, the sun stood still in the sky, marking high noon. The sky was cloudless, a perfect azure dome that stretched from horizon to horizon.

The young mare stood, and smiled as her pink mane was carried on the strengthening breeze. Her wings unfolded, the feather-tips ruffling as the wind picked up, and she leapt into the air. She felt the air streaming around her, over her, through her mane and tail, as she wheeled through the boundless skies, above the featureless plains.

The sun hung motionless in the sky; but there, nearly invisible in the bright blue expanse, lurked a crescent moon. The field beneath the mare began to thin as she flew past, giving way to a winding river. It snaked towards the horizon in all directions, flowing always away from the spot directly beneath the mare. On the continually-shifting banks grew trees, shrubs and bushes, that changed shape and form as they were subsumed by the moving river.

In one direction, the river began to dry, and left behind a vast tract of sand, dotted here and there by opportunistic grasses and palms. In another, the river climbed up into the sky, disappearing into a mountain range that rose to meet it. Behind, shrubs became trees, trees became forest, and soon the mare found herself following the only length of the river left unchanged, flowing towards a spot that was indistinguishable and dark.

The sun moved. Slowly, at first, but the nearer the mare drew to that widening spot of darkness, the faster the sun descended from its throne, and the brighter the crescent moon grew. Stars pierced the blue veil, spreading drops of purple and orange into what was now a twilight sky. The sun reached the horizon beyond the dark maw, and slipped below the curve of the land.

The mare began to see details in the dark. A small clearing amidst trees. A gently flowing brook. Glowing fungi. Flying lights, dancing in the branches of the trees. The glint of glassy dew on the grass.

A blue mare, younger than herself, sat in the centre of it all. Her mane was the pale blue of a cloud in the night sky. Her coat, the dark blues of midnight.

The mare with the pink mane drew closer to the dark grove, and descended to the ground, gently. Her hooves touched the ground, which felt cold now that the sun's warmth had vanished from it.

"Good morning," the younger of the two said.

"Good morning," the elder replied, her white coat shining in the dim evening light. She walked to the younger mare, and sat beside her. The two, together and yet alone, watched as the stars grew in size; spreading circles of white that overcame the black sky. As the white reached the horizon, it worked inwards, covering river, mountain and forest, until nothing remained of that dreamlike world except a young, white mare, and her sister.

An older mare sat in the centre of a small, cramped room. The grey stone walls, covered in banners bleached by a sunlight that didn't exist, rose away to a ceiling that wasn't there. All that lay above was empty, black space. Around her were scattered papers, scrolls, books, quills and ink. A single empty bottle remained upright, and contained one red rose. A small reminder of a world beyond the walls.

On her head was a circlet of gold. It weighed down on her like a millstone.

Under its weight, she struggled to her feet, shod as they were in golden manacles. Her hair no longer blew about in the breeze. It flowed, but it was an artificial wind. The rainbow hue of her mane merely exaggerated the grey stone walls. There was no door, and no window. A palatial prison.

She walked forward, her head down. The stone moved around her, encasing her, but allowing her the illusion of freedom. A door appeared before her, the wood polished smooth and studded with gold. She opened it and walked through into a corridor so narrow, she could not stretch her wings. Above her, the black roof was filled with eyes. Parchment and ribbon fell from the void, floating like the feathers that fell from her unused wings as she dragged her shackled legs down the polished tiles. Voices clamoured for her ear, shouting meaningless words, rising to an incomprehensible shrieking, until the mare just cried out for it all to stop.

She collapsed to the ground. The stone walls crumbled and faded away, and she was on a balcony overlooking a city. Her city. Ponies walked the streets below, busy with their own cares and lives. She longed to join them, but even as she stretched her neck to look out over the balcony's edge, she felt her hooves pulled tight against golden chains that dragged her back, back into the stone corridors lined with taunting glass windows. The sunlight could only enter this world regulated by the confines of glass and lead. Colours were contained in prisms and designs not of her own creation.

A window in the distance cracked, and broke.

A younger mare stood in the frame as glass shards fell around her. She stretched her wings, and as she flew down towards the elder mare, the stone walls were torn down, allowing streaming sunlight and a fresh breeze to flow into the prison. She landed, surrounded by a halo of blinding radiance, and walked over to the elder mare. She sat down beside her.

"Good morning," she said.

"Good morning," the elder replied, and her chains melted away.

A white mare walked slowly through the corridors of her palace. There was no sound as her golden-shod hooves struck against the marble tiles.

She looked up and around her. This wasn't her palace.

The walls were wrong.

Polished whites had been replaced by midnight hues. Purple and golden banners had been taken down in favour of black and blue. Sunlight did not stream through the stained glass windows, only the pale glow of moonlight.

The silence of the hallways was deafening. She kept walking, following what should have been the path to the throne room. As she approached the large double-doors, she noticed that there were no guards. Abandoned lances lay on the floor. Rusting, bronzen armour. There were no signs of a struggle. They were simply gone.

The doors swung back. On the throne sat a dark mare in cobalt armour. Her mane streamed around her like the path of the galaxies in the night sky.

The light through the windows changed. Pale moonlight became flickering flames. Sound returned to the palace. Screaming. Roaring fires. Chaos. A window fell away and showed the city below, burning. Smoke rose to meet a blood-red moon that hung, suspended, low in the sky. The stars, far from the beautiful patterns they usually took, were alien and strange. They swirled, span, erupted and fell to the ground in streaks of blazing light.

The dark mare looked up and saw her sister.

The nightmare began to fade, and soon all was white. All that was left were the two mares.

"Good morning," the elder said, although her voice lacked conviction.

The younger turned her head away, and did not reply.

A dark blue mare lay in the dust as she wept. About her was white rock, stretching infinitely toward the horizon in every direction. Craters and ridges marred the surface, casting long shadows everywhere she looked. Above, the stars looked down in judgement, unmoving, uncaring. They did not twinkle and sparkle as they did on the surface of the planet below, a planet no longer visible in the inky expanse of a lunar sky.

The sun burned fiercely on the crest of the mountain ridges before her. Not the gentle sun of spring, nor the warmth of a summer sun, the reds and oranges of an autumn sunset, or the weak rays of winter. This sun was a ferocious beast, churning and spitting fire, plumes of liquid flame that arced from the surface. No warmth came from it.

The dark mare watered the ground with her tears, and clutched in her hooves a small pebble with a hole in its centre. The sun gave shape to her shadow, which flowed around her like a dark pool. Each tear added to its size as it pulsed with something resembling a heartbeat.

The dark mare tried to stop crying, for she knew that if her shadow grew larger, it would soon speak. It would speak of things she wished to forget. Things she did in her anger and jealousy that she regretted with every fibre of her being on this empty, dead rock that she used to love so much.

The shadow rose from the surface and took the shape of a larger, black mare in cobalt armour. Green eyes shone in the void that marked her body, and the unforgiving light of the sun glinted on white fangs that flickered in and out of the formless darkness.

It smiled as it said, "Good morning."

A dark blue mare sat in her rooms at the palace. The décor spoke of the night, the moon, the stars, and the beauty of twilight, dusk and dawn. She looked out of the great window that lead to her balcony, and smiled as she saw the moon - her moon - cresting the far horizon as it entered the young night sky.

She rose and walked out onto the balcony, relishing the cool night air as it played with the stars in her mane. The great city stretched away below, and she stood and watched for a moment as the lights in windows and on street lamps awoke in a dance that threaded the roads and alleys of the city. She opened her wings and leapt from the balcony, plummeting with speed towards the gardens below her room, and swooping at the last moment into the air. With a few wing beats, she had reached the cobbled streets of the city, and landed carefully among the crowd.

None noticed her. They just continued around their work. Restaurants and cafés working the evening shift were filled with laughing, chattering customers, while vendors standing by the doors hollered and hawked passers by, and each other, in an attempt to increase the night's custom. The dark blue mare walked past them, savouring the smells of delicious soups, stews and hot meals as they wafted through paneless windows into the open street. She watched as workers pulled over the awnings that covered the street, to keep in the warmth, but allowed cracks to remain through which the stars of the night sky could be glimpsed as they reeled and whirled above.

She moved to another part of the city. Here, the workers were closing for the night, talking and sharing jokes with their colleagues as they packed away their wares and secured their shops. They left in parties of three or four, walking either to home and to family, or to friends and a night out. A few ponies stopped in the street to admire the cloudless skies as the dark mare passed them.

The cobbles beneath her hooves gave way to neatly cut grass, as she found herself in the city parks. Here, couples both young and old sat on the turf, or walked beneath the trees, stargazing and pointing out constellations as they enjoyed each other's company.

The dark blue mare was gladdened by what she saw, and continued her walk. As the city moved away from her, she found herself following a once-familiar path by an impossible river that stretched in all directions.

In the distance, a spot of light appeared. She continued towards it, as the moon progressed, at the same pace, through the sky above. Stars dimmed and went out. Hues of blue and gold tinged the sky, while the light grew.

There was a grove of trees. A brook. They lacked detail, perhaps a mark of a waning imagination, dulled by years of service to an ephemeral people. In the middle of the grove sat an elder white mare, whose mane flowed in the gentle breeze, reflecting all the colours of a soft spring flowerbed.

The dark blue mare approached, smiling, and joined the elder white mare. They sat together in silence and watched as the world around them faded into the glory of the dawn.

They looked at each other, and said, in unison:

"Good morning."

Black Bun Pie: Cragodile Hunter

"Twilight! Twilight!"

A pink bolt streaked through the centre of Ponyville and broke down the door of the Treetop Library (for what was, by now, the third time this month), ahalting its progress by colliding with a small dragon, a lectern, and a recently-rearranged bookcase.

Twilight let the dust settle, glanced at her door, and gave a deep sigh. Spike crawled off, groaning, while Pinkie Pie disentangled herself from the book pile she had created.

"What is it, Pinkie?"

"Twilight! I got a package from my uncle Black Bun Pie! He's a cragodile hunter!"

Twilight blinked. "A what?"

"Cragodile hunter! My parents don't approve of him, but he's so amazing! He's really pushing the boundaries of the family profession!" Pinkie exclaimed enthusiastically, hopping up and down, a brown paper package balancing miraculously yet somewhat precariously on her back.

"... Your family profession...? Oh. Oh! Rock farming, of course," Twilight replied, her expression flickering quickly from understanding to confusion, "What have cragodiles got to do with rock farming?"

"Isn't it obvious?" Pinkie retorted, leaping across the library to a chalkboard and beginning to sketch.

"The cragodile (crocodylus lithicus) is a creature of living stone, not too dissimilar to the more familiar and well-known Timber Wolf! Their life-cycle is not well documented and we have little knowledge of their origins, habits or behaviours, but what we do know is that their hide is some of the most purely concentrated geological deposits known to ponykind!"

Pinkie jumped aside, revealing a carefully sketched diagram of a cragodile, overlaid with that of another with its limbs outstretched, enclosed in a circle and a square.

"And my uncle Black Bun is Equestria's first, (and so far, only), cragodile hunter! He tracks and traps cragodiles all over Equestria!"

"I... see," Twlight lied, "what does he do with the ones he catches?"

"Takes the surface strata of rock and gemstone and releases them back into the wild! But that's not what I came for! He sent me something extra special!"

Pinkie placed the package on the table and quickly opened it, revealing what looked like a large, rocky egg nestled within. Twilight peered into the box with curiosity.

"I'm guessing it's a cragodile egg?" she asked, looking up at Pinkie.

"Wrong!" Pinkie chimed, beaming.

"But I-" Twilight stammered, but was interrupted by a marked cracking sound, like that of splitting and splintering stone. She leant back over the box and her eyes met with two emerald-green ones looking back at her.

"It's a baby cragodile! He was just napping! My uncle found him all alone and couldn't leave him so he sent him to me, since I reared Gummy so well, but I don't think he and Gummy will get along and I don't want to upset either of them so I thought, 'I know, I'll take him to Twilight's!' and I realised that's just perfect because-"

"Pinkie!" Twilight interrupted, placing a hoof over her friend's mouth. "I can't take care of a baby cragodile! I don't know the first thing about cragodiles, and I already have Owlowiscious and Spike here with me! I mean, what about food? What does a baby cragodile eat-"

Twilight was halted a second time by another sound, this time of tearing paper. Her eyes widened in horror as she turned to see the baby cragodile rolling around on the table with a book in its claws, nipping off little chunks of text, page by page.

"The mother cragodile chews up tree trunks into wood pulp for the babies, it lets them grow big and strong! And I realised you were the perfect one to raise him because books are made from wood pulp! And you've got so many! Look how happy he is!" Pinkie beamed and nuzzled the little cragodile on the head as it ravenously tore into another chapter. Twilight stood, slack-jawed and speechless, unable to react.

"Well, I can see you love him already so I'll just leave him here and come back to check on him tomorrow! Bye Twilight!" Pinkie said, trotting swiftly out of the door.

Spike walked back into the reading room as Pinkie left, his head wrapped in a bandage and eating a bowl of ice cream. He glanced at the flurry of confetti descending from the table and the stationary Twilight.

"Uh. Twi? Are you okay?"

"I- Ju- I do- Wha- Bu-, " she managed, before her eyes rolled back in her head and she collapsed to the floor.

Tom x Bloomberg OTP

"... 'As Bloomberg extended his roots across Tom, his root hairs feeling every rugged facet, every hidden depth, he knew that this was more than coincidence. This... was destiny.'" Twilight looked up from the pages at Fluttershy, the yellow pegasus standing there awkwardly and attempting to hide behind her hair.

"... Okay, Fluttershy, I know you've got a passion for literature, and you're not a bad writer, but... Really? A rock and a tree?"

Fluttershy blushed and crossed her forelegs, rubbing them nervously.

Twilight frowned. "And this goes on for over fifty pages! How did you come up with all this?"

"... P-Pinkie Pie let me borrow her dad's book on rock f-farming and Applejack told me about how trees... Pollinate." she blushed again, more fiercely.

Twilight shook her head and sifted telekinetically through the pages, skimming over the text and occasionally repressing the urge to gag. In the middle, she found an unnumbered page that seemed to be written on different paper, and peered at it.

" '"Oh, Bloomberg, I want to feel your roots interlocking with mine, our xylem beating in harmony..." Fluttertree said, her-' Wait."

Twilight looked back at her friend, somewhat visibly disturbed. Fluttershy was blushing so brightly she was radiating heat.

"Th-th-that w-wasn't meant t-to be in th-there!" she stammered, grabbing the sheets of paper from a speechless Twilight.

"I'd, uhm, b-better be going, th-there's a lot to do, I- I have to change Hummingway's b-bandages and... Bye!" she shot through the door, scattering a few sheets of paper in her wake.

Twilight stared at the open door, her eye twitching.

"... I thought Rarity's romance novels were bad..."

Bucky McGillygutty X Kicks McGee OTP

Bucky McGillygutty was a simple leg, with simple pleasures. All she wanted out of life was a tree to buck and a place to rest her weary hoof at day's end. All her life she'd been a farm leg, rising in the morning with the cockerel and working the day through. In spring, she'd stride the fields, planting new seedlings. In the heat of summer she would find shade under the leafy boughs of the orchard's trees.

But it was autumn she loved most. Applebuck Season.

Her forelimbs had always said she had a strength rarely seen in girls of her kind, and she loved to use it. The feeling of the muscles tensing beneath her coat, that energy released in an unstoppable rush towards the firm and unyielding bark of a waiting tree. That sweet vibration as it resonated with the force of her strike, shaking apples free from their branches.

But she never worked alone. By her side all day long was her lifelong friend, Kicks McGee. She didn't say much, but she was a hard worker. Bucky admired that about her. She could respect a hard worker. During the long summer afternoons, she and Kicks often rested together in the shade. Neither said anything, but no words were needed. They just enjoyed each other's company.

Over the years, Bucky had often been thankful to have Kicks by her side. Sometimes she just couldn't get the last apple off a particularly stubborn tree, but Kicks was always there, ready to help. Then there was one Applebuck Season, some years ago, where Bucky had misplaced her hoof in a sharp kick, and had to spend the rest of the season in a cast. But Kicks was there. She was always willing to lend a helping hoof.

Sometimes at night, as she lay in bed, she pondered what she'd ever do without Kicks.

It was almost as if they were...

Made for each other.

They were simple legs, with simple pleasures. But the company of another was the greatest pleasure of all.

~~~

Fluttershy looked up from the page, carefully putting the quill back on her desk. She looked over what she'd just written, and sighed wistfully as her gaze turned to the pastures outside her window.

"I have got to get a better hobby."