Making Fire and Using Shampooby ZeckChaptersYou Put WHAT In Your Mane?! Tomato SoupShovel to the Face? You Put WHAT In Your Mane?! You Put WHAT In Your Mane?! “Buzzy, we really shouldn’t be here,” Bertha whispered. “I said you and Bow didn’t have to come,” Buzzy shot back. “And what if something happens to you?” Bow whispered. “Big Daddy would string us out to dry.” The three sisters crept along the McColts’ mountain, keeping out of sight of both their home and that ramshackle settlement on the other side of the valley. Their destination was at the bottom of the mountains and a bit further in the valley. The routine was the same as always. The three mares snuck out of their home once a week and slipped down the mountain. Their charcoal-grey manes helped them blend in, so that if a pony saw them from far off, they would appear as a flickering shadow. The sisters reached the bottom of the mountain. Buzzy crept to the rock that they always hid behind and peeked over the edge. No sign of movement from home or those rotten Hooffields. She waved her hoof and Bow followed. Bertha came next, creeping along the ground so low that her two ponytails dragged in the dirt. “Sis, why do do this?” Bertha asked as she pressed herself next to Bow. “We have a bathhouse.” Buzzy scrunched her light purple nose. “You two can bathe in that stuff if you want. Not me. Now be quiet and follow me. Or, go back to bed.” “No,” Bertha said, running her hoof through one of her ponytails. “You two might like wearing your manes short, but I don’t, so I have to wash mine.” “Just hurry up,” Bow said. “Right,” Buzzy said and stepped out from behind the rock. She made her way toward the dried riverbed and began to follow it. Before, when they were younger, the river still had a little bit of water flowing through it, so they didn’t have to travel as far, but as the years had passed, the Hooffields had dried the river up growing all the food that they constantly fired across the valley. It was such a waste. The sisters followed the riverbed until they found the small pond where the water still pooled. Buzzy felt her light purple coat grow cleaner just by looking at the sparkling liquid. She looked at her two sisters, both of whom had their own smiles, and then the three raced toward the water. Bow arrived first. She tore off her blue shirt and yanked the red tie out of her short mane, allowing it to spill down around her head and face. She jumped into the water, her greyish-blue coat vanishing beneath the surface with a loud splash. Bertha and Buzzy reached the water next. Bertha stopped when her pale green hooves touched the water. She pulled off her shirt and set it gently on the ground, and then undid her red mane ties, allowing her two ponytails to merge into one mass of charcoal colored hair. She then undid the tie at the end of her tail and slowly walked into the water until it was up to her neck. She lowered herself in until her mouth was submerged and began blowing bubbles, giggling as they popped in front of her face. Buzzy didn’t waste any time. She jumped over Bertha’s head, tucked her four legs, and crashed into the water. Her purple shirt was instantly soaked, but she didn’t care. She could feel the dirt washing away as she sank. After a few seconds, she broke the surface again, her mullet-styled mane clinging to her neck and forehead. “See?” she said as she floated in the water. “Tell me this isn’t worth it.” She began to fiddle with her own shirt until she was able to wiggle out of it. She rubbed it between her hooves, cleaning it to the best of her ability. “Ah, my mane needed this,” Bertha said as she floated on her back. “It does feel nice,” Bow said as she swam up next to her sister. “Wish we had this back home.” Buzzy scowled. “As if the Hooffields would let us. They’d fine some way to spoil it.” “You’re right,” Bertha said as she spit out water. “We’d better get going,” Bow added as she splashed Bertha. “Big Daddy might notice we’re missing if we’re gone too long.” Buzzy rolled her purple eyes. Bow said that every time, and every time nothing happened. Big Daddy McColt slept like one of the logs their home was built from. Still, Bow was technically the oldest—by four whole seconds—so Buzzy and Bertha had to listen to her when push came to shove. “Fine,” Buzzy said as she walked out of the pond. She began to wring water out of her shirt. “You two head back. I need to dry my shirt.” “Every time you just jump straight in,” Bertha said as she tied one of her two ponytails. “And every time, you end up staying behind because your shirt is wet,” Bow added. “If you’d just take it off before hoof, this wouldn’t happen.” Buzzy shrugged. “Well, you two might like wearing those crusty old shirts day after day, but I like mine to at least smell like something other than dirt and sweat.” Bow and Bertha looked at each other and then down at their shirts. Buzzy knew what came next. “Could you…wash ours too?” Bertha asked with a meek smile. She and Bow held out their shirts and Buzzy rolled her eyes. “Chores for a week, both of you,” she said. “How about we cover for you so that Big Daddy don’t wake up?” Bow countered. “And one day of chores,” Bertha added. “It’s only fair, Bow.” Buzzy smiled. This was the deal they always came to. Her sisters had never quite gotten the hang of washing their clothes in the water, and so Buzzy did it, and in return they took care of her share of the chores for a day. “Deal. Leave them by the rocks. I’ll meet you two back home in half an hour or so.” “Don’t be late,” Bow whispered. With that, she and Bertha began to make their way back up the riverbed. Buzzy watched them go and then washed their shirts. She soaked them and scrubbed them until she felt sure most of the dirt was gone. “Now to find some wood for the fire,” she said to herself. She trotted over to the far edge of the pond and rummaged through bushes until she found enough branches to get a fire going. Then she walked over and found her spot. It was a small area, free of burnable materials, and she had placed several stones in a circle there. The ground inside the circle was charred from the many times she had built a fire. Humming to herself, Buzzy sat down and began to work. She got a small flame going, and she immediately hunched over and sheltered it. She blew on it a few times until it grew to a decent size. “Now all I got to do is dry our clothes,” she said as she laid the clothes on the drying rock next to the fire. She sat down and let the fire’s warmth fill her body. This was a much better way to dry off than just shaking her body like her sisters did. How did they not get cold walking back home? The sound of splashing reached Buzzy’s ears and she rolled her eyes again. Apparently Bertha hadn’t had enough playtime. The purple mare stood and walked toward the pond, calling, “Girls! We had a deal. How are you supposed to—?” Buzzy stopped when she saw the pony sloshing in the water. It wasn’t Bertha, or even Bow. The pinkish pony stayed perfectly still, like prey caught in a predator’s gaze, as her greenish-yellow eyes stared at Buzzy. Her curly, tangled mane was just starting to get wet, slowly losing it fluffiness. The stalk of some small plant was balancing on the edge of her open mouth, and in one hoof she had a bottle of something. “Hooffield!” Buzzy growled. “What’s a McCold doing here?” “It’s pronounced, ‘McColt’!” “Oh, my mistake. You’re all so sick, I was confused.” “We ain’t sick! We’re perfectly healthy.” “You mean you all look like that all the time?” The Hooffield put her hoof to her mouth and gasped. “How horrible!” Buzzy gritted her teeth. “Yeah, well…says the pony who looks like her mane exploded!” “I hardly think a pony with a mullet has any right to make fun of my appearance!” “Why you little…!” Buzzy bit her lip and then turned up her nose. “Hmph! Whatever! Just hurry up and get out of our swimming hole!” “Your swimming hole?” the Hooffield shot back. “Hardly. It’s because you McColts chopped down all the trees and clogged the river with your logging that I even have to come here! All the water we have back home is used for growing food. If anything, this is my pond! I’ve been coming here for years!” “You’re lying! I ain’t never seen you here, and I’ve been coming here since I was a filly!” “How like a McColt. Lying to change history. I’ve been coming here and I’ve never seen you neither!” Buzzy was starting to shake with fury. This stupid Hooffield was ruining her and her sisters’ secret spot! “Grr! Just…hurry up and get out of here! Or I’ll call my sisters!” “Not until I wash my hair and tail,” the Hooffield said as she turned her nose up. “Fine! Just dunk it under the water and get out! You got ten seconds!” “First, washing my hair and tail takes much longer than that!” The Hooffield raised her flank out of the water and revealed a soaking wet tail. “Second, despite what your simple mind thinks, this ain’t your pond or water, so you have no right to tell me how long I have. And thirdly, you’re a McColt!” “That doesn’t even make sense, Hooffield!” “McColt!” Buzzy was so furious that she sat down and crossed her front hooves across her chest. She looked back at her fire to make sure it was still going, and then turned back to the pony in the water. “Fine! Wash your mane! But I’m watching you! No funny business!” “How like a McColt, watching a lady bathe,” the Hooffield shot back. She turned in the water so that her back was to Buzzy. “I suppose you all go to the bathroom in the open too?” Buzzy scooped up a pebble and tossed it at the Hooffield. She missed—by a large margin—but the Hooffield still looked over her shoulder and scowled at her. Buzzy returned the favor by sticking her tongue out. “Rude and childish,” the Hooffield said as she turned back around. She raised her bottle and shook it until a white cream came out onto her other hoof. She then gently tossed the bottle back to shore; making it land in a basket she had placed there, and began to rub the cream on her hair. It foamed until it covered her entire mane and she still continued to rub it all over her head. “What the hay are you doing?” Buzzy asked as the Hooffield’s auburn mane disappeared beneath a swarm of bubbles. “Washing my hair.” “No you’re not. You’re rubbing gunk into it.” “It’s called shampoo!” “That sounds disgusting! Why would you want to rub animal droppings in your hair?” The Hooffield turned around, and a look of genuine shock was on her face for a moment, but then it quickly changed to one of cruel mockery. “I don’t believe it! You’ve never heard of shampoo? I mean, I know you McColts are as sharp as a watermelon, but I had no idea it was this bad!” Buzzy blushed. “Well, um…okay then! What is it?” She tried to sound snide, but her voice cracked. “You’ve at least heard of soap, right?” the Hooffield asked. She submerged her head for a moment and the bubbles stayed on the surface of the water. She rubbed her head vigorously for a few seconds and then came back up, her once fluffy mane now limp and clinging to her face. “Course we’ve heard of soap!” “Shampoo is soap for your mane and tail, McColt!” the Hooffield laughed. “Although, with a mane like that, I can see why you’ve never heard of it.” “Yeah, well…do you use it on those giant eyebrows of yours too?” Buzzy shot back. “Because they’re just as thick as that rat’s nest on your head and rump!” Buzzy would have continued the attack, but the look on the Hooffield’s face gave her pause. Buzzy, her sisters, and her entire family had been feuding with the McCotls for generations. They screamed at each other day in and day out and launched hay bales and food at one another constantly. But Buzzy had never seen any of them look like this Hooffield now. Her eyes were blinking rapidly and her bottom lip quivered, much like Bertha’s did when she was upset. She sniffed a few times and then looked down at the water, and Buzzy suddenly felt like the bottom end of the lowest Hooffield in all of history. “I’m…” she started, but she couldn’t bring herself to say the word. No McColt had ever said that word to a Hooffield, and she wasn’t going to be the first one, no sir! “I’m Buzzy,” she said instead. The Hooffield looked up, and Buzzy couldn’t tell if the water on her face was from the pond. “I’m Lucky Barrel.” The two mares stared at each other for a long time, suddenly realizing that neither had any idea how to talk to the other that didn’t involve hurling insults or objects. Buzzy found the moment strangely calming. Lucky Barrel shook her head. “I better get going,” she said as she made her way out of the pond. She stopped at the edge and collected her basket. She pulled out a small rag, although Buzzy would have been hard pressed to call it even that, and began to run it through her mane and over her body. She sneezed several times and Buzzy could see her shoulders shiver in the moonlight. “You’re not going back like that, are you?” Buzzy asked as Lucky Barrel began to walk up the riverbed. “You’re soaked! At least dry yourself off!” Lucky Barrel turned around and raised a bushy eyebrow. “W-W-Why d-d-d-o you c-c-c-are?” she asked between chattering teeth. “Because if they find your body down here, they’re going to think I had something to do with it! Worse, more of you Hooffields are going to come around here looking for answers!” “N-N-Not much I-I-I-I can do about that.” Lucky Barrel held up her little rag, which was already soaking wet. “T-T-T-This is all—” “Oh, would you stop your shivering!” Buzzy yelled. “It ain’t even that cold out! Come over here. I have a fire going. It’ll warm you up!” “R-R-R-Really? Y-You don’t—” “Now, Hooffield!” Lucky Barrel trotted over to Buzzy and they sat down by the fire. Neither one of them spoke for a long time, but Buzzy noticed that Lucky Barrel had at least stopped shivering. And her mane seemed to be coming back to life, slowly getting its poof back. It was also starting to look really soft in the moonlight. “This fire’s nice,” Lucky Barrel said at last, startling Buzzy. “Wish I could build one. It’d make drying off a lot easier. My towel got destroyed when you McColts launched that hay bale two days ago.” Buzzy pretended she didn’t hear Lucky Barrel’s last sentence. “It’s simple, really. Just need to know what wood makes the best fuel, and what sticks to rub together.” Buzzy turned and looked at Lucky Barrel again. Her mane seemed nearly dry now, and it looked like it was glowing. “Say…where’d you get that shampoo stuff anyway?” “Oh, I made it,” Lucky Barrel answered. “You did? How?” Buzzy asked, stunned. She had no idea a Hooffield could do anything other than grow plants and be pests. “Oh, it’s simple,” Lucky Barrel said as she met Buzzy’s gaze. “You just need to know what planets make the best ingredients, and what herbs to mix together.” “Heh.” “Heh.” The two ponies sat by the fire in silence long into the night. Author's Note No, I couldn't find the names of any of the McColts or Hooffields besides the two leaders. So I came up with Buzzy because she has a buzz saw cutie mark, Bow for the bow saw, and Bertha because I wanted to. It seemed to fit. And Lucky Barrel because she has a barrel and that little hat she has in the show. Tomato SoupBuzzy quivered with pleasure as the hooves ran through her mane and rubbed her scalp. She loved the feeling, and the sensation of the bubbling shampoo against her skin was just icing on the cake. She sighed and sank a little lower in the water. A moment later, a cascade of soaking wet auburn hair spilled down in her view as Lucky Barrel peaked over her head. “You like this a lot,” the mare said. She rubbed her hooves behind Buzzy’s ears and the McColt’s tongue fell out of her mouth. “A whole lot.” “I had no idea washing my mane could be this…enjoyable,” Buzzy replied. She sighed as Lucky started to work on her neck. Her body felt like it was slipping away as the Hooffield scrubbed her down, but it ended all too soon. She let out a little huff of disappointment. “You know, if you’d just grow your mane out, I could wash it longer,” Lucky said as she walked around and sat down in the water across from Buzzy. “Can’t,” Buzzy replied. “Gets in the way of work. Honestly, I don’t know how you deal with it. At least Bertha puts hers in ponytails.” Lucky giggled and Buzzy smiled. “You’ve seen my mane dry. Do you honestly think there’s anything that could keep it in check?” “Hm…well, it certainly didn’t rip when I tugged on it.” “That hurt, by the way.” “I couldn’t help it. There’s just so much of it. I wanted to see what would happen.” After the two ponies had met on that night, they had been secretly meeting. At first it had just been out of curiosity. Neither of them had spoken to another pony outside of their families in years. Sure, the McColts and Hooffields had yelled at each other all those years, but that was hardly talking. They had found that they were both starved for a new pony to talk to, and so they had spent many nights sitting around Buzzy’s fire, eating Lucky Barrel’s late night snacks, and just talking. What had once been a weekly routine for both of them had slowly grown into a nightly one. Some nights, Buzzy wasn’t able to slip away. When that happened, she had found it hard to go to sleep. She would spend those nights wide-awake in her bed, or if she were really restless, she would offer to patrol the walls and spend the time gazing over at the far mountain. Lucky had told her that she did similar things when she couldn’t get away. She would stay up and work in the garden in the moonlight, picking out vegetables and fruits that she knew Buzzy would like, or just sit under the stars and stare at Buzzy’s home. As the pale pink pony sat across from her in the shallow, cool water, Buzzy knew that they were friends. She wondered when that had happened. Had it been the first time Lucky had offered her something to eat, or had it been when Buzzy had asked her to let her try the shampoo? Maybe it was when Lucky had offered to wash her mane for her? Buzzy smiled as she remembered how nervous she had been, and then how fast she had relaxed once Lucky had started. It had felt so good. “How are your sisters?” Lucky asked as she ran her hoof through her hair. “The same as always,” Buzzy said. “They both suspect something. Bertha probably knows, seeing as I’ve been giving her tips on treating her hair. But they haven’t said anything. As long as I keep washing their clothes and letting them come down here sometimes, I don’t think they care.” “Mm…I’d love to get a chance to wash Bertha’s hair,” Lucky said. “It’s so long and thick. Not like this mess that I have to deal with.” “Hey!” Buzzy said, and then she immediately blushed. She hadn’t meant to shout like that. “What?” Lucky asked with a tilt of her head. “I…uh, I like your mane,” Buzzy said as she stared at Lucky’s hair. “Oh, is that what that was about? I thought you were getting jealous.” Buzzy’s cheeks went as red as the tomato she had been hit with earlier that day. “Jealous of my sister’s hair? No way. I already told you that it’s too long. It’d be getting in my face all day.” Lucky grinned. “That’s not what I meant.” Buzzy looked down at the water. “I know,” she whispered. A second later, a wall of water smashed into her face as Lucky splashed her. Her embarrassment vanished with the rush of cool water and she splashed her friend back. They laughed and continued for a while, and then made their way over to the campfire that Buzzy had going. “So what did you bring tonight?” Buzzy asked as she sat down on the blanket-covered log. “Your favorite,” Lucky answered as she sat down right next to Buzzy without hesitation. “Fresh celery with diced carrots, and some tomato soup, if you want to cook it up for us.” Buzzy licked her lips. Her nightly meetings with Lucky had become the highlight of her life, and not just because of her new friend. She got to eat all sorts of delicious things now, so much so that sometimes she would eat a small dinner just to save room. Buzzy pulled out her cooking pot and Lucky dumped the soup in. They hung the pot over the fire and ate the vegetables in peaceful silence while they waited for the soup to cook. After a few seconds, Lucky Barrel leaned her head on Buzzy’s shoulder. The first time she had done that, Buzzy had jumped so high that poor Lucky Barrel had fallen flat on her face. Now though, the mare enjoyed it. It made her heart beat a little faster and— “What are you doing?” Buzzy whispered as Lucky gently took hold of her foreleg. “Shush,” Lucky replied. She slowly guided Buzzy’s foreleg around her back and then placed the McColt’s hoof on her thigh. After that, Lucky scooted in even closer, pressing her body against Buzzy’s. She didn’t make any noise, but Buzzy felt her sigh as she rested against her. “Um…Lucky?” Buzzy whispered. Her heart was in her throat. Her hoof was resting on Lucky’s thigh and it was taking every ounce of willpower to stop it from shaking. “Are you…okay? With this?” “Mm-hm,” Lucky replied quietly. Her mane was tickling Buzzy’s chin, and Buzzy could smell the scent of her shampoo. Buzzy swallowed what felt like a rock in her throat. She carefully flexed her foreleg, pulling the mare closer and relishing the sensation of her hoof pressing against her soft thigh. “So…?” Buzzy asked. “So.” “So.” Buzzy bit her lip and stared at the cooking pot. “Is this…? Are we…allowed to do this?” “I don’t think so.” “We’re in trouble if our families find out. Should we stop?” “I don’t think so.” Steam began to rise from the cooking pot. Just a little longer until the soup was ready. Soon it would start bubbling, and if they didn’t hurry, it would boil over. “Buzzy?” “Hm?” “I…liked it when you pulled my hair.” “Hm.” “If I asked you to do it again, would you?” “Mm.” The sound of bubbling liquid echoed from inside the pot. It was slow at first, but it quickly built up until it was a steady hum. Lucky Barrel shifted in Buzzy’s embrace so that she was looking up at her. Buzzy met her greenish-yellow eyes and wondered if her own purple ones had the same pleading question in them. She bet they did. The pot began to shake as it reached a boil. The two mares leaned in closer to each other, their breaths brushing each other’s faces. “Pull my hair.” Buzzy wrapped the auburn mess around her hoof and pulled gently as she leaned in closer. The small gasp that escaped the Hooffield’s mouth sent a sensation through Buzzy’s body she had never felt before. They drew closer, their eyes locked on each other. The pot whistled as steam escaped. “BUZZY!” Buzzy nearly dropped Lucky on the ground as the voice rang through the night. She looked down at the pony she was holding and saw a reflection of her own terror in the pink face. “BUZZY McCOLT, WHERE ARE YOU?” “Hide!” Buzzy hissed, but Lucky was already scrambling out of her embrace and diving toward the bushes. A moment later, Big Daddy McColt, Bertha, Bow, and several other members of her family came charging into her campsite, shovels and various other tools raised for battle. “Big Daddy!” Buzzy said. She shot a look in the direction Lucky had gone, but she saw no sign of the pony. “Uh…what are you all doing here?” She glared at her two sisters and immediately knew what had happened when Bertha lowered her head and Bow refused to look her in the eye. “Little Bolt said he saw some suspicious activity down on the Hooffield side of the riverbank earlier tonight,” Big Daddy said as he marched up to Buzzy. He barely came up to Buzzy’s chest, but right now she was trembling in his shadow, even as she looked down at him. “He thought nothing of it, but then he overheard your sisters talking about how you hadn’t come back yet.” Big Daddy finally seemed to notice what was before him and his demeanor changed. “What in the name of Grandpappy McColt is all this?” “It’s…uh…” Buzzy looked at her sisters, but she knew she’d get no help from them. “Dinner! Yeah, dinner!” “You already had dinner, girl!” Big Daddy said. “You snuck off just so you could eat more food? Shame on you. And where did you even get all of this?” “Um…it’s a Hooffields?” Buzzy offered weakly. “Excuse me? You best not be having secret dealings with those low-down, dirty, no good—” “Of course not, Big Daddy.” Buzzy shot a look in the direction Lucky had gone and hoped the mare could see the apology on her face. “I…stole it. I was out on a stroll because I couldn’t sleep, and I saw this Hooffield cooking up something that smelled delicious. And, well, since they were on our property, I figured…well, I snuck up on her and made a lot of noise. I think she thought I was a bear, because she took off like a bat. And…I didn’t want to let all this go to waste, so…” Buzzy prayed that Big Daddy would buy her excuse. For a long moment, he just stared at her and tapped his chin, but finally he relented. “Okay, good job, sweetheart. That soup does smell mighty tasty. Let’s take it back with us and we can all have a light-night meal.” “Thanks, Big Daddy,” Buzzy said, relief flooding her body. “But! I don’t want you wandering around at night anymore. If one of those Hooffields had grabbed you, who knows what might have happened.” “But Big Daddy!” Buzzy protested. “No buts! From now on, the night guard will do routine bed checks. No more of these midnight strolls. They’re too dangerous with those treacherous Hooffields about.” Buzzy stood in the middle of her ruined campsite as her family swarmed over it, snuffing out of the fire and taking the pot full of soup; soup that had been meant for her and Lucky. She felt like her world was ending as she watched the last of the fire’s embers die and she was left in the moonlight. “Here,” Bow said. She walked up and draped Lucky’s blanket around Buzzy’s shoulders. Buzzy pulled it close and sniffed it. She could still catch a hint of Lucky’s shampoo on it. “At least Big Daddy didn’t wonder why it was your cooking pot that the Hooffield was using,” Bertha offered quietly as the three sisters followed the rest of their family back up the riverbed. While the statement was true and Bertha meant well, it did nothing to mend Buzzy’s broken world. Author's Note Buzzy's reaction to having her head and mane rubbed is based on how I act when it happens to me. I turn into a whimper little puppy, and I get upset when whoever is doing it stops. These two have been sneaking away nearly every night for about two weeks now in my head. And did they actually kiss? The answer is in the next chapter. Shovel to the Face? Shovel to the Face? “Buzzy, you have to snap out of this,” Bertha said as she nudged her sister. “It’s been over a week already.” “One week and three days,” Buzzy mumbled with her chin on the table. She hadn’t seen Lucky Barrel for that long. Big Daddy McColt had been true to his word. Ever since he and the family had stumbled into Buzzy’s secret meeting, he had had patrols checking on her room every hour. She had had no chance to sneak away, or even contact Lucky to find out if she was okay. Her shirt was starting to get dingy and crusty because she hadn’t been able to wash it. Her mane was slowly turning into an oily mess and her scalp was starting to itch because she had grown so used to Lucky’s shampoo treatment. Her stomach was threatening to eat her because she was forcing it to digest pumpkin mush over and over after having experienced Lucky’s glorious cooking. But worst of all, every time she started to drift off to sleep, the memory of what had almost happened came flashing back. Their lips had been so close together. Lucky’s body had been so tense in Buzzy’s embrace. Buzzy’s heart had pounded so hard that she was certain a rib would break. Gah! If only they had shown up a few seconds later! Buzzy thought angrily as she glared at her family. Lucky Barrel had wanted to kiss her, right? Buzzy certainly wanted to kiss her. It wasn’t just some misunderstanding, right? It wasn’t just all in her head, and Lucky Barrel was actually grateful for the chance to slip away, right? “Hooffield alert!” shouted the pony on watch. “Arm the cannons!” Buzzy stood up so fast that Bertha fell backward in surprise. Normally, Buzzy would be racing to her station and helping prepare for battle, but now a different thought crossed her mind. Lucky! Lucky came to see me! Buzzy almost began hopping around the courtyard like a silly filly as the thought played in her mind. Maybe that new Princess and her little yellow friend that had arrived earlier today had convinced the Hooffields to let Lucky come over. “Open the gate!” Buzzy felt a smile spreading across her lips. She watched as the gate swung open, first revealing the new Princess, and then…was that a cake? And Ma Hooffield? “What?” Buzzy asked as her joy fled. “Ma Hooffield said it’s an apology cake,” Bow said as she raced down from the upper wall. Her eyes were swelling as she watched Princess Twilight levitate it through the door and set it down in the middle of the fort. Buzzy swallowed as her stomach growled. The cake was huge, almost as tall as the wall around the fort, and it wasn’t made out of pumpkin mush. It was three layers tall, with a row of delicious looking carrots on the bottom layer and gobs of creamy icing on the top two. Two extra large carrots were placed at the top like candles, and Buzzy had to stop herself from jumping forward and diving into the thing. If it was anything like the food Lucky prepared, it was going to be delicious. “It’s such a beautiful cake,” Bow said as tears filled her eyes. Buzzy suddenly realized that she herself was panting like a dog, but she didn’t care. She was so tired of eating the same slop over and over. She wanted something new to eat again, and she wanted it now! “Think of this as more than just a cake,” the purple Princess said. “It’s the first step in the long road to forgiveness.” Buzzy liked the sound of that. If her and Lucky’s families would stop fighting, then they could see each other again. “Nothing says, ‘Let’s be friends’ like a cake that says, ‘Let’s be friends’,” the yellow Pegasus added in a soft voice. She flew over and landed close to Bow and added, “I wrote that in icing on the top.” Buzzy was about to charge forward, but then the cake started shaking. She looked at her sister and the rest of her family, but all of them seemed just as confused as she was.Then the cake burst open at the top, flinging icing and cake everywhere. “For glory!” the ponies yelled as they popped out of the cake and immediately started hurling chunks of it at the McColts. Lucky? Buzzy was stunned to see the auburn hair mare among the attackers, flinging the cake around with a scowl. She and the other two Hooffields jumped out of the cake and landed on the ground, ready to attack more. Instinct took over and Buzzy turned and ran. She made it a few steps before she heard Lucky Barrel and the other Hooffields scream in surprise, so she spun around and saw that they had all been caught in a net and were now dangling above the ruined cake. “McColts!” Big Daddy yelled. “Assume Delta Force Formation!” Without thinking, Buzzy fell in line for her part of the running triangle. She risked a quick look back at Lucky and saw that she was looking directly at her. The Hooffield’s scowl vanished instantly, replaced with a sad look and a small wave. Buzzy darted her eyes and barely flicked her head to the right, hoping that Lucky would be able to figure out how to get her and her kinfolk down, and then she turned forward again. Big Daddy had moved to the front of the pack, and with a shout, the entire family charged out of the fort and after Ma Hooffield, grabbing tools and makeshift weapons as they did. Buzzy wasn’t sure why she was running, or why she was taking place in the feud. She was angry, sure. Ma Hooffield had crossed a line, attacking under the promise of a truce, and the McColt in Buzzy demanded that she pay for it. But the rest of Buzzy, the part of her that was just Buzzy, didn’t care. She wanted to turn around and run back to the fort. She wanted to cut Lucky down, scoop up some cake, and then the two of them could run down to the pond and enjoy it together. The D.F.F. came to a screeching halt as a barrage of food darkened the skies overhead. Buzzy and the rest of her family raised the wooden shields they had grabbed as the food rained down on them. She winced every time a carrot or cupcake hit her shield, not because it was dangerous, but because it was such a waste of food. Once the barrage had stopped, Buzzy looked up and saw the whole Hooffield family charging toward her and her family. She froze for a moment, but then Bow and Bertha charged forward to meet the attackers, along with Big Daddy and the rest of the McCotls. Bow met a Hooffield with a long red mane and a button up blue dress and started screaming in her face. The Hooffield screamed back at her as the yellow Pegasus walked over. It looked like she said something, but Buzzy couldn’t hear over all the yelling, and a second later Bow and the Hooffield tackled each other to the ground, trading blows. Bow caught the mare’s dress with her teeth and pulled as hard as she could, while the Hooffield repaid the favor by yanking on Bow’s short tail. Bertha slammed into a tall, yellow mare with two pigtails and a green dress. The two immediately began slapping and hitting each other. It was the most energy Buzzy had ever seen her little sister display, but it wasn’t enough. Bertha lost her balance and fell backward. The Hooffield lost her balance too and fell on top of Bertha, striking her again and again. Bertha let out a small scream as the pony pulled one of her ponytails, so Bertha grabbed one of the Hooffield’s ponytails with her mouth and the other one between her front hooves and pulled them both. The Hooffield mare howled as her head was yanked down and the two ponytailed ponies bonked heads. Buzzy grabbed a shovel and picked up a tomato that had landed near her. She tossed the ripe red orb into the air and then swung the shovel like a bat. The tomato sailed through the air and beamed the pony who was attacking Bertha in the face. She looked up at Buzzy in horror, but quickly returned her attention to Bertha when the youngest sister smacked her in the chin. “Yes!” Buzzy yelled as she launched another tomato and hit another Hooffield. She looked around for more food on the ground, but then she felt somepony yank her tail, hard. Without thinking, she spun around and raised the shovel above her head, hoping that the display would scare away whichever Hooffield was trying to attack her. She didn’t want to actually hurt any of them because she knew Lucky would never forgive her if she did, but scaring seemed acceptable. Buzzy’s plan worked. The pony that had been pulling on her tail screamed and fell backward, but to Buzzy’s horror, it wasn’t some random Hooffield. It was Lucky Barrel! Lucky hit the ground and kicked up in defense, her hoof aimed straight at Buzzy’s chin. The blow would have been easy to avoid, but the shock of seeing Lucky again, combined with holding the shovel above her head, caused Buzzy to lose her balance. She started to fall forward just as Lucky’s hoof came up. She took in a sharp breath to prepare for the pain, but the blow never came. “Everypony FREEZE!” A massive ball of magic washed over the battlefield and Buzzy found herself frozen just a hair’s breath away from being kicked in the face. Lucky was frozen beneath her, a frightened smile on her face. “Uh…hi, Lucky,” Buzzy whispered. She looked over and saw that the yellow Pegasus was talking, but she didn’t care. She was with Lucky Barrel, and that was all that mattered. “You were going to hit me with a shovel!” Lucky growled while the yellow Pegasus talked in the distance. “No I wasn’t! Honest! I was just trying to scare you. Well, not you-you. I thought you were a different Hooffield.” “Well it worked pretty well.” “Sorry.” Buzzy blushed. “It’s okay,” Lucky smiled and the gloom disappeared from Buzzy’s heart. “I was about to kick you in the face, so I guess we’re even.” “Not quite,” Buzzy said with a grin. “You did attack on my home.” “It was the only way I could think to see you! Please don’t be mad!” “So you did miss me?” Buzzy felt a flutter in her chest. “Well, um…” Lucky Barrel sighed. “Of course I did. I can’t stop thinking about that night last week. I wanted to see you again, so when Ma asked for volunteers, I jumped.” “Still, it is my home…” “Well, what do you want me to do to make it up to you? I’ll wash your mane as much as you want. I’ll bring you whatever you want to eat. I’ll—” The freezing spell vanished and Buzzy fell onto Lucky. The two mares stared at each other for a moment as Buzzy felt heat rising in her face, but before she could say anything, Lucky Barrel leaned forward and gave her a kiss on the lips. “Forgive me?” she asked. “Um…” Buzzy’s mind raced as she tried to sort out what had just happened. She felt warmer than she ever had before, and she wanted more. “It’s a start.” “A start? What more do you want?” Buzzy looked around. She wasn’t sure what had happened, but it looked like the generations-long feud was finally over. Big Daddy and Ma Hooffield were shaking hooves and other McColts and Hooffields were awkwardly apologizing to each other. A smile appeared on Buzzy’s face. She leaned down and kissed Lucky Barrel on the cheek, then pulled away to see the mare pouting at her. “That’s all?” Lucky asked like a spoiled filly. “Meet me by the pond tonight if you want more,” Buzzy said as she licked her lips. “A lot more.” “Deal.” “And the night after that?” “Of course.” Buzzy smiled at the mare lying beneath her. That Princess for Friendship seemed to have pulled off the one thing that would make Buzzy’s life happy. She’d have to make sure she thanked her and the Pegasus before they left. After she and Lucky cleaned each other up, of course. Author's Note I wanted to do an extra scene where these two got to be together and a few of the other ponies from the two families were there too, but I ran out of time and word count. If ponies really want to read it, I'll write it, but you have to let me know. The idea for the story came from that shot in the episode where Buzzy has a shovel and is about to straight beat Lucky Barrel's face in with it--or so it appears. It also came from Lumineko's take on the scene too, which is right here. Hope you all enjoyed reading this.
You Put WHAT In Your Mane?! You Put WHAT In Your Mane?! “Buzzy, we really shouldn’t be here,” Bertha whispered. “I said you and Bow didn’t have to come,” Buzzy shot back. “And what if something happens to you?” Bow whispered. “Big Daddy would string us out to dry.” The three sisters crept along the McColts’ mountain, keeping out of sight of both their home and that ramshackle settlement on the other side of the valley. Their destination was at the bottom of the mountains and a bit further in the valley. The routine was the same as always. The three mares snuck out of their home once a week and slipped down the mountain. Their charcoal-grey manes helped them blend in, so that if a pony saw them from far off, they would appear as a flickering shadow. The sisters reached the bottom of the mountain. Buzzy crept to the rock that they always hid behind and peeked over the edge. No sign of movement from home or those rotten Hooffields. She waved her hoof and Bow followed. Bertha came next, creeping along the ground so low that her two ponytails dragged in the dirt. “Sis, why do do this?” Bertha asked as she pressed herself next to Bow. “We have a bathhouse.” Buzzy scrunched her light purple nose. “You two can bathe in that stuff if you want. Not me. Now be quiet and follow me. Or, go back to bed.” “No,” Bertha said, running her hoof through one of her ponytails. “You two might like wearing your manes short, but I don’t, so I have to wash mine.” “Just hurry up,” Bow said. “Right,” Buzzy said and stepped out from behind the rock. She made her way toward the dried riverbed and began to follow it. Before, when they were younger, the river still had a little bit of water flowing through it, so they didn’t have to travel as far, but as the years had passed, the Hooffields had dried the river up growing all the food that they constantly fired across the valley. It was such a waste. The sisters followed the riverbed until they found the small pond where the water still pooled. Buzzy felt her light purple coat grow cleaner just by looking at the sparkling liquid. She looked at her two sisters, both of whom had their own smiles, and then the three raced toward the water. Bow arrived first. She tore off her blue shirt and yanked the red tie out of her short mane, allowing it to spill down around her head and face. She jumped into the water, her greyish-blue coat vanishing beneath the surface with a loud splash. Bertha and Buzzy reached the water next. Bertha stopped when her pale green hooves touched the water. She pulled off her shirt and set it gently on the ground, and then undid her red mane ties, allowing her two ponytails to merge into one mass of charcoal colored hair. She then undid the tie at the end of her tail and slowly walked into the water until it was up to her neck. She lowered herself in until her mouth was submerged and began blowing bubbles, giggling as they popped in front of her face. Buzzy didn’t waste any time. She jumped over Bertha’s head, tucked her four legs, and crashed into the water. Her purple shirt was instantly soaked, but she didn’t care. She could feel the dirt washing away as she sank. After a few seconds, she broke the surface again, her mullet-styled mane clinging to her neck and forehead. “See?” she said as she floated in the water. “Tell me this isn’t worth it.” She began to fiddle with her own shirt until she was able to wiggle out of it. She rubbed it between her hooves, cleaning it to the best of her ability. “Ah, my mane needed this,” Bertha said as she floated on her back. “It does feel nice,” Bow said as she swam up next to her sister. “Wish we had this back home.” Buzzy scowled. “As if the Hooffields would let us. They’d fine some way to spoil it.” “You’re right,” Bertha said as she spit out water. “We’d better get going,” Bow added as she splashed Bertha. “Big Daddy might notice we’re missing if we’re gone too long.” Buzzy rolled her purple eyes. Bow said that every time, and every time nothing happened. Big Daddy McColt slept like one of the logs their home was built from. Still, Bow was technically the oldest—by four whole seconds—so Buzzy and Bertha had to listen to her when push came to shove. “Fine,” Buzzy said as she walked out of the pond. She began to wring water out of her shirt. “You two head back. I need to dry my shirt.” “Every time you just jump straight in,” Bertha said as she tied one of her two ponytails. “And every time, you end up staying behind because your shirt is wet,” Bow added. “If you’d just take it off before hoof, this wouldn’t happen.” Buzzy shrugged. “Well, you two might like wearing those crusty old shirts day after day, but I like mine to at least smell like something other than dirt and sweat.” Bow and Bertha looked at each other and then down at their shirts. Buzzy knew what came next. “Could you…wash ours too?” Bertha asked with a meek smile. She and Bow held out their shirts and Buzzy rolled her eyes. “Chores for a week, both of you,” she said. “How about we cover for you so that Big Daddy don’t wake up?” Bow countered. “And one day of chores,” Bertha added. “It’s only fair, Bow.” Buzzy smiled. This was the deal they always came to. Her sisters had never quite gotten the hang of washing their clothes in the water, and so Buzzy did it, and in return they took care of her share of the chores for a day. “Deal. Leave them by the rocks. I’ll meet you two back home in half an hour or so.” “Don’t be late,” Bow whispered. With that, she and Bertha began to make their way back up the riverbed. Buzzy watched them go and then washed their shirts. She soaked them and scrubbed them until she felt sure most of the dirt was gone. “Now to find some wood for the fire,” she said to herself. She trotted over to the far edge of the pond and rummaged through bushes until she found enough branches to get a fire going. Then she walked over and found her spot. It was a small area, free of burnable materials, and she had placed several stones in a circle there. The ground inside the circle was charred from the many times she had built a fire. Humming to herself, Buzzy sat down and began to work. She got a small flame going, and she immediately hunched over and sheltered it. She blew on it a few times until it grew to a decent size. “Now all I got to do is dry our clothes,” she said as she laid the clothes on the drying rock next to the fire. She sat down and let the fire’s warmth fill her body. This was a much better way to dry off than just shaking her body like her sisters did. How did they not get cold walking back home? The sound of splashing reached Buzzy’s ears and she rolled her eyes again. Apparently Bertha hadn’t had enough playtime. The purple mare stood and walked toward the pond, calling, “Girls! We had a deal. How are you supposed to—?” Buzzy stopped when she saw the pony sloshing in the water. It wasn’t Bertha, or even Bow. The pinkish pony stayed perfectly still, like prey caught in a predator’s gaze, as her greenish-yellow eyes stared at Buzzy. Her curly, tangled mane was just starting to get wet, slowly losing it fluffiness. The stalk of some small plant was balancing on the edge of her open mouth, and in one hoof she had a bottle of something. “Hooffield!” Buzzy growled. “What’s a McCold doing here?” “It’s pronounced, ‘McColt’!” “Oh, my mistake. You’re all so sick, I was confused.” “We ain’t sick! We’re perfectly healthy.” “You mean you all look like that all the time?” The Hooffield put her hoof to her mouth and gasped. “How horrible!” Buzzy gritted her teeth. “Yeah, well…says the pony who looks like her mane exploded!” “I hardly think a pony with a mullet has any right to make fun of my appearance!” “Why you little…!” Buzzy bit her lip and then turned up her nose. “Hmph! Whatever! Just hurry up and get out of our swimming hole!” “Your swimming hole?” the Hooffield shot back. “Hardly. It’s because you McColts chopped down all the trees and clogged the river with your logging that I even have to come here! All the water we have back home is used for growing food. If anything, this is my pond! I’ve been coming here for years!” “You’re lying! I ain’t never seen you here, and I’ve been coming here since I was a filly!” “How like a McColt. Lying to change history. I’ve been coming here and I’ve never seen you neither!” Buzzy was starting to shake with fury. This stupid Hooffield was ruining her and her sisters’ secret spot! “Grr! Just…hurry up and get out of here! Or I’ll call my sisters!” “Not until I wash my hair and tail,” the Hooffield said as she turned her nose up. “Fine! Just dunk it under the water and get out! You got ten seconds!” “First, washing my hair and tail takes much longer than that!” The Hooffield raised her flank out of the water and revealed a soaking wet tail. “Second, despite what your simple mind thinks, this ain’t your pond or water, so you have no right to tell me how long I have. And thirdly, you’re a McColt!” “That doesn’t even make sense, Hooffield!” “McColt!” Buzzy was so furious that she sat down and crossed her front hooves across her chest. She looked back at her fire to make sure it was still going, and then turned back to the pony in the water. “Fine! Wash your mane! But I’m watching you! No funny business!” “How like a McColt, watching a lady bathe,” the Hooffield shot back. She turned in the water so that her back was to Buzzy. “I suppose you all go to the bathroom in the open too?” Buzzy scooped up a pebble and tossed it at the Hooffield. She missed—by a large margin—but the Hooffield still looked over her shoulder and scowled at her. Buzzy returned the favor by sticking her tongue out. “Rude and childish,” the Hooffield said as she turned back around. She raised her bottle and shook it until a white cream came out onto her other hoof. She then gently tossed the bottle back to shore; making it land in a basket she had placed there, and began to rub the cream on her hair. It foamed until it covered her entire mane and she still continued to rub it all over her head. “What the hay are you doing?” Buzzy asked as the Hooffield’s auburn mane disappeared beneath a swarm of bubbles. “Washing my hair.” “No you’re not. You’re rubbing gunk into it.” “It’s called shampoo!” “That sounds disgusting! Why would you want to rub animal droppings in your hair?” The Hooffield turned around, and a look of genuine shock was on her face for a moment, but then it quickly changed to one of cruel mockery. “I don’t believe it! You’ve never heard of shampoo? I mean, I know you McColts are as sharp as a watermelon, but I had no idea it was this bad!” Buzzy blushed. “Well, um…okay then! What is it?” She tried to sound snide, but her voice cracked. “You’ve at least heard of soap, right?” the Hooffield asked. She submerged her head for a moment and the bubbles stayed on the surface of the water. She rubbed her head vigorously for a few seconds and then came back up, her once fluffy mane now limp and clinging to her face. “Course we’ve heard of soap!” “Shampoo is soap for your mane and tail, McColt!” the Hooffield laughed. “Although, with a mane like that, I can see why you’ve never heard of it.” “Yeah, well…do you use it on those giant eyebrows of yours too?” Buzzy shot back. “Because they’re just as thick as that rat’s nest on your head and rump!” Buzzy would have continued the attack, but the look on the Hooffield’s face gave her pause. Buzzy, her sisters, and her entire family had been feuding with the McCotls for generations. They screamed at each other day in and day out and launched hay bales and food at one another constantly. But Buzzy had never seen any of them look like this Hooffield now. Her eyes were blinking rapidly and her bottom lip quivered, much like Bertha’s did when she was upset. She sniffed a few times and then looked down at the water, and Buzzy suddenly felt like the bottom end of the lowest Hooffield in all of history. “I’m…” she started, but she couldn’t bring herself to say the word. No McColt had ever said that word to a Hooffield, and she wasn’t going to be the first one, no sir! “I’m Buzzy,” she said instead. The Hooffield looked up, and Buzzy couldn’t tell if the water on her face was from the pond. “I’m Lucky Barrel.” The two mares stared at each other for a long time, suddenly realizing that neither had any idea how to talk to the other that didn’t involve hurling insults or objects. Buzzy found the moment strangely calming. Lucky Barrel shook her head. “I better get going,” she said as she made her way out of the pond. She stopped at the edge and collected her basket. She pulled out a small rag, although Buzzy would have been hard pressed to call it even that, and began to run it through her mane and over her body. She sneezed several times and Buzzy could see her shoulders shiver in the moonlight. “You’re not going back like that, are you?” Buzzy asked as Lucky Barrel began to walk up the riverbed. “You’re soaked! At least dry yourself off!” Lucky Barrel turned around and raised a bushy eyebrow. “W-W-Why d-d-d-o you c-c-c-are?” she asked between chattering teeth. “Because if they find your body down here, they’re going to think I had something to do with it! Worse, more of you Hooffields are going to come around here looking for answers!” “N-N-Not much I-I-I-I can do about that.” Lucky Barrel held up her little rag, which was already soaking wet. “T-T-T-This is all—” “Oh, would you stop your shivering!” Buzzy yelled. “It ain’t even that cold out! Come over here. I have a fire going. It’ll warm you up!” “R-R-R-Really? Y-You don’t—” “Now, Hooffield!” Lucky Barrel trotted over to Buzzy and they sat down by the fire. Neither one of them spoke for a long time, but Buzzy noticed that Lucky Barrel had at least stopped shivering. And her mane seemed to be coming back to life, slowly getting its poof back. It was also starting to look really soft in the moonlight. “This fire’s nice,” Lucky Barrel said at last, startling Buzzy. “Wish I could build one. It’d make drying off a lot easier. My towel got destroyed when you McColts launched that hay bale two days ago.” Buzzy pretended she didn’t hear Lucky Barrel’s last sentence. “It’s simple, really. Just need to know what wood makes the best fuel, and what sticks to rub together.” Buzzy turned and looked at Lucky Barrel again. Her mane seemed nearly dry now, and it looked like it was glowing. “Say…where’d you get that shampoo stuff anyway?” “Oh, I made it,” Lucky Barrel answered. “You did? How?” Buzzy asked, stunned. She had no idea a Hooffield could do anything other than grow plants and be pests. “Oh, it’s simple,” Lucky Barrel said as she met Buzzy’s gaze. “You just need to know what planets make the best ingredients, and what herbs to mix together.” “Heh.” “Heh.” The two ponies sat by the fire in silence long into the night. Author's Note No, I couldn't find the names of any of the McColts or Hooffields besides the two leaders. So I came up with Buzzy because she has a buzz saw cutie mark, Bow for the bow saw, and Bertha because I wanted to. It seemed to fit. And Lucky Barrel because she has a barrel and that little hat she has in the show.
Tomato SoupBuzzy quivered with pleasure as the hooves ran through her mane and rubbed her scalp. She loved the feeling, and the sensation of the bubbling shampoo against her skin was just icing on the cake. She sighed and sank a little lower in the water. A moment later, a cascade of soaking wet auburn hair spilled down in her view as Lucky Barrel peaked over her head. “You like this a lot,” the mare said. She rubbed her hooves behind Buzzy’s ears and the McColt’s tongue fell out of her mouth. “A whole lot.” “I had no idea washing my mane could be this…enjoyable,” Buzzy replied. She sighed as Lucky started to work on her neck. Her body felt like it was slipping away as the Hooffield scrubbed her down, but it ended all too soon. She let out a little huff of disappointment. “You know, if you’d just grow your mane out, I could wash it longer,” Lucky said as she walked around and sat down in the water across from Buzzy. “Can’t,” Buzzy replied. “Gets in the way of work. Honestly, I don’t know how you deal with it. At least Bertha puts hers in ponytails.” Lucky giggled and Buzzy smiled. “You’ve seen my mane dry. Do you honestly think there’s anything that could keep it in check?” “Hm…well, it certainly didn’t rip when I tugged on it.” “That hurt, by the way.” “I couldn’t help it. There’s just so much of it. I wanted to see what would happen.” After the two ponies had met on that night, they had been secretly meeting. At first it had just been out of curiosity. Neither of them had spoken to another pony outside of their families in years. Sure, the McColts and Hooffields had yelled at each other all those years, but that was hardly talking. They had found that they were both starved for a new pony to talk to, and so they had spent many nights sitting around Buzzy’s fire, eating Lucky Barrel’s late night snacks, and just talking. What had once been a weekly routine for both of them had slowly grown into a nightly one. Some nights, Buzzy wasn’t able to slip away. When that happened, she had found it hard to go to sleep. She would spend those nights wide-awake in her bed, or if she were really restless, she would offer to patrol the walls and spend the time gazing over at the far mountain. Lucky had told her that she did similar things when she couldn’t get away. She would stay up and work in the garden in the moonlight, picking out vegetables and fruits that she knew Buzzy would like, or just sit under the stars and stare at Buzzy’s home. As the pale pink pony sat across from her in the shallow, cool water, Buzzy knew that they were friends. She wondered when that had happened. Had it been the first time Lucky had offered her something to eat, or had it been when Buzzy had asked her to let her try the shampoo? Maybe it was when Lucky had offered to wash her mane for her? Buzzy smiled as she remembered how nervous she had been, and then how fast she had relaxed once Lucky had started. It had felt so good. “How are your sisters?” Lucky asked as she ran her hoof through her hair. “The same as always,” Buzzy said. “They both suspect something. Bertha probably knows, seeing as I’ve been giving her tips on treating her hair. But they haven’t said anything. As long as I keep washing their clothes and letting them come down here sometimes, I don’t think they care.” “Mm…I’d love to get a chance to wash Bertha’s hair,” Lucky said. “It’s so long and thick. Not like this mess that I have to deal with.” “Hey!” Buzzy said, and then she immediately blushed. She hadn’t meant to shout like that. “What?” Lucky asked with a tilt of her head. “I…uh, I like your mane,” Buzzy said as she stared at Lucky’s hair. “Oh, is that what that was about? I thought you were getting jealous.” Buzzy’s cheeks went as red as the tomato she had been hit with earlier that day. “Jealous of my sister’s hair? No way. I already told you that it’s too long. It’d be getting in my face all day.” Lucky grinned. “That’s not what I meant.” Buzzy looked down at the water. “I know,” she whispered. A second later, a wall of water smashed into her face as Lucky splashed her. Her embarrassment vanished with the rush of cool water and she splashed her friend back. They laughed and continued for a while, and then made their way over to the campfire that Buzzy had going. “So what did you bring tonight?” Buzzy asked as she sat down on the blanket-covered log. “Your favorite,” Lucky answered as she sat down right next to Buzzy without hesitation. “Fresh celery with diced carrots, and some tomato soup, if you want to cook it up for us.” Buzzy licked her lips. Her nightly meetings with Lucky had become the highlight of her life, and not just because of her new friend. She got to eat all sorts of delicious things now, so much so that sometimes she would eat a small dinner just to save room. Buzzy pulled out her cooking pot and Lucky dumped the soup in. They hung the pot over the fire and ate the vegetables in peaceful silence while they waited for the soup to cook. After a few seconds, Lucky Barrel leaned her head on Buzzy’s shoulder. The first time she had done that, Buzzy had jumped so high that poor Lucky Barrel had fallen flat on her face. Now though, the mare enjoyed it. It made her heart beat a little faster and— “What are you doing?” Buzzy whispered as Lucky gently took hold of her foreleg. “Shush,” Lucky replied. She slowly guided Buzzy’s foreleg around her back and then placed the McColt’s hoof on her thigh. After that, Lucky scooted in even closer, pressing her body against Buzzy’s. She didn’t make any noise, but Buzzy felt her sigh as she rested against her. “Um…Lucky?” Buzzy whispered. Her heart was in her throat. Her hoof was resting on Lucky’s thigh and it was taking every ounce of willpower to stop it from shaking. “Are you…okay? With this?” “Mm-hm,” Lucky replied quietly. Her mane was tickling Buzzy’s chin, and Buzzy could smell the scent of her shampoo. Buzzy swallowed what felt like a rock in her throat. She carefully flexed her foreleg, pulling the mare closer and relishing the sensation of her hoof pressing against her soft thigh. “So…?” Buzzy asked. “So.” “So.” Buzzy bit her lip and stared at the cooking pot. “Is this…? Are we…allowed to do this?” “I don’t think so.” “We’re in trouble if our families find out. Should we stop?” “I don’t think so.” Steam began to rise from the cooking pot. Just a little longer until the soup was ready. Soon it would start bubbling, and if they didn’t hurry, it would boil over. “Buzzy?” “Hm?” “I…liked it when you pulled my hair.” “Hm.” “If I asked you to do it again, would you?” “Mm.” The sound of bubbling liquid echoed from inside the pot. It was slow at first, but it quickly built up until it was a steady hum. Lucky Barrel shifted in Buzzy’s embrace so that she was looking up at her. Buzzy met her greenish-yellow eyes and wondered if her own purple ones had the same pleading question in them. She bet they did. The pot began to shake as it reached a boil. The two mares leaned in closer to each other, their breaths brushing each other’s faces. “Pull my hair.” Buzzy wrapped the auburn mess around her hoof and pulled gently as she leaned in closer. The small gasp that escaped the Hooffield’s mouth sent a sensation through Buzzy’s body she had never felt before. They drew closer, their eyes locked on each other. The pot whistled as steam escaped. “BUZZY!” Buzzy nearly dropped Lucky on the ground as the voice rang through the night. She looked down at the pony she was holding and saw a reflection of her own terror in the pink face. “BUZZY McCOLT, WHERE ARE YOU?” “Hide!” Buzzy hissed, but Lucky was already scrambling out of her embrace and diving toward the bushes. A moment later, Big Daddy McColt, Bertha, Bow, and several other members of her family came charging into her campsite, shovels and various other tools raised for battle. “Big Daddy!” Buzzy said. She shot a look in the direction Lucky had gone, but she saw no sign of the pony. “Uh…what are you all doing here?” She glared at her two sisters and immediately knew what had happened when Bertha lowered her head and Bow refused to look her in the eye. “Little Bolt said he saw some suspicious activity down on the Hooffield side of the riverbank earlier tonight,” Big Daddy said as he marched up to Buzzy. He barely came up to Buzzy’s chest, but right now she was trembling in his shadow, even as she looked down at him. “He thought nothing of it, but then he overheard your sisters talking about how you hadn’t come back yet.” Big Daddy finally seemed to notice what was before him and his demeanor changed. “What in the name of Grandpappy McColt is all this?” “It’s…uh…” Buzzy looked at her sisters, but she knew she’d get no help from them. “Dinner! Yeah, dinner!” “You already had dinner, girl!” Big Daddy said. “You snuck off just so you could eat more food? Shame on you. And where did you even get all of this?” “Um…it’s a Hooffields?” Buzzy offered weakly. “Excuse me? You best not be having secret dealings with those low-down, dirty, no good—” “Of course not, Big Daddy.” Buzzy shot a look in the direction Lucky had gone and hoped the mare could see the apology on her face. “I…stole it. I was out on a stroll because I couldn’t sleep, and I saw this Hooffield cooking up something that smelled delicious. And, well, since they were on our property, I figured…well, I snuck up on her and made a lot of noise. I think she thought I was a bear, because she took off like a bat. And…I didn’t want to let all this go to waste, so…” Buzzy prayed that Big Daddy would buy her excuse. For a long moment, he just stared at her and tapped his chin, but finally he relented. “Okay, good job, sweetheart. That soup does smell mighty tasty. Let’s take it back with us and we can all have a light-night meal.” “Thanks, Big Daddy,” Buzzy said, relief flooding her body. “But! I don’t want you wandering around at night anymore. If one of those Hooffields had grabbed you, who knows what might have happened.” “But Big Daddy!” Buzzy protested. “No buts! From now on, the night guard will do routine bed checks. No more of these midnight strolls. They’re too dangerous with those treacherous Hooffields about.” Buzzy stood in the middle of her ruined campsite as her family swarmed over it, snuffing out of the fire and taking the pot full of soup; soup that had been meant for her and Lucky. She felt like her world was ending as she watched the last of the fire’s embers die and she was left in the moonlight. “Here,” Bow said. She walked up and draped Lucky’s blanket around Buzzy’s shoulders. Buzzy pulled it close and sniffed it. She could still catch a hint of Lucky’s shampoo on it. “At least Big Daddy didn’t wonder why it was your cooking pot that the Hooffield was using,” Bertha offered quietly as the three sisters followed the rest of their family back up the riverbed. While the statement was true and Bertha meant well, it did nothing to mend Buzzy’s broken world. Author's Note Buzzy's reaction to having her head and mane rubbed is based on how I act when it happens to me. I turn into a whimper little puppy, and I get upset when whoever is doing it stops. These two have been sneaking away nearly every night for about two weeks now in my head. And did they actually kiss? The answer is in the next chapter.
Shovel to the Face? Shovel to the Face? “Buzzy, you have to snap out of this,” Bertha said as she nudged her sister. “It’s been over a week already.” “One week and three days,” Buzzy mumbled with her chin on the table. She hadn’t seen Lucky Barrel for that long. Big Daddy McColt had been true to his word. Ever since he and the family had stumbled into Buzzy’s secret meeting, he had had patrols checking on her room every hour. She had had no chance to sneak away, or even contact Lucky to find out if she was okay. Her shirt was starting to get dingy and crusty because she hadn’t been able to wash it. Her mane was slowly turning into an oily mess and her scalp was starting to itch because she had grown so used to Lucky’s shampoo treatment. Her stomach was threatening to eat her because she was forcing it to digest pumpkin mush over and over after having experienced Lucky’s glorious cooking. But worst of all, every time she started to drift off to sleep, the memory of what had almost happened came flashing back. Their lips had been so close together. Lucky’s body had been so tense in Buzzy’s embrace. Buzzy’s heart had pounded so hard that she was certain a rib would break. Gah! If only they had shown up a few seconds later! Buzzy thought angrily as she glared at her family. Lucky Barrel had wanted to kiss her, right? Buzzy certainly wanted to kiss her. It wasn’t just some misunderstanding, right? It wasn’t just all in her head, and Lucky Barrel was actually grateful for the chance to slip away, right? “Hooffield alert!” shouted the pony on watch. “Arm the cannons!” Buzzy stood up so fast that Bertha fell backward in surprise. Normally, Buzzy would be racing to her station and helping prepare for battle, but now a different thought crossed her mind. Lucky! Lucky came to see me! Buzzy almost began hopping around the courtyard like a silly filly as the thought played in her mind. Maybe that new Princess and her little yellow friend that had arrived earlier today had convinced the Hooffields to let Lucky come over. “Open the gate!” Buzzy felt a smile spreading across her lips. She watched as the gate swung open, first revealing the new Princess, and then…was that a cake? And Ma Hooffield? “What?” Buzzy asked as her joy fled. “Ma Hooffield said it’s an apology cake,” Bow said as she raced down from the upper wall. Her eyes were swelling as she watched Princess Twilight levitate it through the door and set it down in the middle of the fort. Buzzy swallowed as her stomach growled. The cake was huge, almost as tall as the wall around the fort, and it wasn’t made out of pumpkin mush. It was three layers tall, with a row of delicious looking carrots on the bottom layer and gobs of creamy icing on the top two. Two extra large carrots were placed at the top like candles, and Buzzy had to stop herself from jumping forward and diving into the thing. If it was anything like the food Lucky prepared, it was going to be delicious. “It’s such a beautiful cake,” Bow said as tears filled her eyes. Buzzy suddenly realized that she herself was panting like a dog, but she didn’t care. She was so tired of eating the same slop over and over. She wanted something new to eat again, and she wanted it now! “Think of this as more than just a cake,” the purple Princess said. “It’s the first step in the long road to forgiveness.” Buzzy liked the sound of that. If her and Lucky’s families would stop fighting, then they could see each other again. “Nothing says, ‘Let’s be friends’ like a cake that says, ‘Let’s be friends’,” the yellow Pegasus added in a soft voice. She flew over and landed close to Bow and added, “I wrote that in icing on the top.” Buzzy was about to charge forward, but then the cake started shaking. She looked at her sister and the rest of her family, but all of them seemed just as confused as she was.Then the cake burst open at the top, flinging icing and cake everywhere. “For glory!” the ponies yelled as they popped out of the cake and immediately started hurling chunks of it at the McColts. Lucky? Buzzy was stunned to see the auburn hair mare among the attackers, flinging the cake around with a scowl. She and the other two Hooffields jumped out of the cake and landed on the ground, ready to attack more. Instinct took over and Buzzy turned and ran. She made it a few steps before she heard Lucky Barrel and the other Hooffields scream in surprise, so she spun around and saw that they had all been caught in a net and were now dangling above the ruined cake. “McColts!” Big Daddy yelled. “Assume Delta Force Formation!” Without thinking, Buzzy fell in line for her part of the running triangle. She risked a quick look back at Lucky and saw that she was looking directly at her. The Hooffield’s scowl vanished instantly, replaced with a sad look and a small wave. Buzzy darted her eyes and barely flicked her head to the right, hoping that Lucky would be able to figure out how to get her and her kinfolk down, and then she turned forward again. Big Daddy had moved to the front of the pack, and with a shout, the entire family charged out of the fort and after Ma Hooffield, grabbing tools and makeshift weapons as they did. Buzzy wasn’t sure why she was running, or why she was taking place in the feud. She was angry, sure. Ma Hooffield had crossed a line, attacking under the promise of a truce, and the McColt in Buzzy demanded that she pay for it. But the rest of Buzzy, the part of her that was just Buzzy, didn’t care. She wanted to turn around and run back to the fort. She wanted to cut Lucky down, scoop up some cake, and then the two of them could run down to the pond and enjoy it together. The D.F.F. came to a screeching halt as a barrage of food darkened the skies overhead. Buzzy and the rest of her family raised the wooden shields they had grabbed as the food rained down on them. She winced every time a carrot or cupcake hit her shield, not because it was dangerous, but because it was such a waste of food. Once the barrage had stopped, Buzzy looked up and saw the whole Hooffield family charging toward her and her family. She froze for a moment, but then Bow and Bertha charged forward to meet the attackers, along with Big Daddy and the rest of the McCotls. Bow met a Hooffield with a long red mane and a button up blue dress and started screaming in her face. The Hooffield screamed back at her as the yellow Pegasus walked over. It looked like she said something, but Buzzy couldn’t hear over all the yelling, and a second later Bow and the Hooffield tackled each other to the ground, trading blows. Bow caught the mare’s dress with her teeth and pulled as hard as she could, while the Hooffield repaid the favor by yanking on Bow’s short tail. Bertha slammed into a tall, yellow mare with two pigtails and a green dress. The two immediately began slapping and hitting each other. It was the most energy Buzzy had ever seen her little sister display, but it wasn’t enough. Bertha lost her balance and fell backward. The Hooffield lost her balance too and fell on top of Bertha, striking her again and again. Bertha let out a small scream as the pony pulled one of her ponytails, so Bertha grabbed one of the Hooffield’s ponytails with her mouth and the other one between her front hooves and pulled them both. The Hooffield mare howled as her head was yanked down and the two ponytailed ponies bonked heads. Buzzy grabbed a shovel and picked up a tomato that had landed near her. She tossed the ripe red orb into the air and then swung the shovel like a bat. The tomato sailed through the air and beamed the pony who was attacking Bertha in the face. She looked up at Buzzy in horror, but quickly returned her attention to Bertha when the youngest sister smacked her in the chin. “Yes!” Buzzy yelled as she launched another tomato and hit another Hooffield. She looked around for more food on the ground, but then she felt somepony yank her tail, hard. Without thinking, she spun around and raised the shovel above her head, hoping that the display would scare away whichever Hooffield was trying to attack her. She didn’t want to actually hurt any of them because she knew Lucky would never forgive her if she did, but scaring seemed acceptable. Buzzy’s plan worked. The pony that had been pulling on her tail screamed and fell backward, but to Buzzy’s horror, it wasn’t some random Hooffield. It was Lucky Barrel! Lucky hit the ground and kicked up in defense, her hoof aimed straight at Buzzy’s chin. The blow would have been easy to avoid, but the shock of seeing Lucky again, combined with holding the shovel above her head, caused Buzzy to lose her balance. She started to fall forward just as Lucky’s hoof came up. She took in a sharp breath to prepare for the pain, but the blow never came. “Everypony FREEZE!” A massive ball of magic washed over the battlefield and Buzzy found herself frozen just a hair’s breath away from being kicked in the face. Lucky was frozen beneath her, a frightened smile on her face. “Uh…hi, Lucky,” Buzzy whispered. She looked over and saw that the yellow Pegasus was talking, but she didn’t care. She was with Lucky Barrel, and that was all that mattered. “You were going to hit me with a shovel!” Lucky growled while the yellow Pegasus talked in the distance. “No I wasn’t! Honest! I was just trying to scare you. Well, not you-you. I thought you were a different Hooffield.” “Well it worked pretty well.” “Sorry.” Buzzy blushed. “It’s okay,” Lucky smiled and the gloom disappeared from Buzzy’s heart. “I was about to kick you in the face, so I guess we’re even.” “Not quite,” Buzzy said with a grin. “You did attack on my home.” “It was the only way I could think to see you! Please don’t be mad!” “So you did miss me?” Buzzy felt a flutter in her chest. “Well, um…” Lucky Barrel sighed. “Of course I did. I can’t stop thinking about that night last week. I wanted to see you again, so when Ma asked for volunteers, I jumped.” “Still, it is my home…” “Well, what do you want me to do to make it up to you? I’ll wash your mane as much as you want. I’ll bring you whatever you want to eat. I’ll—” The freezing spell vanished and Buzzy fell onto Lucky. The two mares stared at each other for a moment as Buzzy felt heat rising in her face, but before she could say anything, Lucky Barrel leaned forward and gave her a kiss on the lips. “Forgive me?” she asked. “Um…” Buzzy’s mind raced as she tried to sort out what had just happened. She felt warmer than she ever had before, and she wanted more. “It’s a start.” “A start? What more do you want?” Buzzy looked around. She wasn’t sure what had happened, but it looked like the generations-long feud was finally over. Big Daddy and Ma Hooffield were shaking hooves and other McColts and Hooffields were awkwardly apologizing to each other. A smile appeared on Buzzy’s face. She leaned down and kissed Lucky Barrel on the cheek, then pulled away to see the mare pouting at her. “That’s all?” Lucky asked like a spoiled filly. “Meet me by the pond tonight if you want more,” Buzzy said as she licked her lips. “A lot more.” “Deal.” “And the night after that?” “Of course.” Buzzy smiled at the mare lying beneath her. That Princess for Friendship seemed to have pulled off the one thing that would make Buzzy’s life happy. She’d have to make sure she thanked her and the Pegasus before they left. After she and Lucky cleaned each other up, of course. Author's Note I wanted to do an extra scene where these two got to be together and a few of the other ponies from the two families were there too, but I ran out of time and word count. If ponies really want to read it, I'll write it, but you have to let me know. The idea for the story came from that shot in the episode where Buzzy has a shovel and is about to straight beat Lucky Barrel's face in with it--or so it appears. It also came from Lumineko's take on the scene too, which is right here. Hope you all enjoyed reading this.
