The snowflake, winter’s most elegant creation. Thousands of these beautifully symmetrical, astoundingly unique particles were being created by the delicate clouds blanketing the sky on this winter morning. One such snowflake would get caught in a swift breeze. The wind would take this frozen particle all the way from the top of the great mountain range of Willy Nilly, across the seemingly endless forest of evergreen trees,—each one of which was concealed by a soft layer of snow, sparkling in the moonlight— and finally, towards its last resting place: a small expanse of turf, separating the houses of a certain seven inhabitants of the meager village of Ponyville.

The snowflake would fly over the Forevergreen Tree, a tree that, also being a highly sacred symbol to the ponies, stood far higher than the tallest buildings of Ponyville. It would see the village’s distribution center, which, located equidistant from all of the ponies’ houses, stored the many foodstuffs, winter clothing, and other basic commodities that the town’s forty inhabitants would need. At long last, this symbol of Nature’s beauty would end its journey in one of the residential ‘pods’ that surrounded the town. It plopped down in the center of this pod, enjoying the view of seven of the ponies’ homes, all arranged in a nearly perfect circle, with room left for a walkway to the town center, before the pinnacle of winter’s creation would meld into the soft mass of snowflakes —each being just as elegant as the first— that so delicately enveloped the ground.

With the Sun having not yet risen, Ponyville was quiet. One pony, though, would break this silence. Cheerilee was not exactly one to wake up while it was still dark outside, but today, she had promised a close friend that she would arise early to watch the sunrise with her. The mauve pony yawned as she rose out of her slumber. The pony was not at all enthusiastic about being up in the pre-dawn hours of the morning; she drowsily rubbed her stinging eyes, and the low howl of the wintry breeze did not do anything to improve the situation. She was barraged by temptations of cancelling her morning plan and going back to sleep, but she presided nonetheless, using thoughts of a shivering, forlorn, and abandoned pony as inspiration to press forward.

Using a series of elegantly structured apparatus, the mauve pony proceeded to form her signature pink and violet stripped pigtails—each of which were bound with some string and a vanilla flower. Upon completing this, Cheerilee fastened a scarf and some slippers upon herself, in a vain attempt to ease the displeasure that was associated with exposure to the elements. The pigtailed pony embraced her fireplace once more,—she understandably felt a profound affinity towards it, the source of her warmth, the essence of her livelihood, paramount to her wellbeing—and then she was off.

As the pony stepped outside, she stopped, unnerved by the brutal chill of the early morning. The associated winds began to wear down on Cheerilee’s willingness to uphold the bargain that she had agreed to during the previous day. Perhaps ‘bargain’ would be an inaccurate term of which to describe this occurrence, though. She was not pressured nor reluctant to agree to the morning’s event; rather, she made this promise out of sheer affinity and affection for this friend of hers. Unfortunately, with the reality of the wintry weather setting in, the exasperated pony was mentally bashing herself for agreeing to this now seemingly preposterous proposition that her friend had formerly presented to her.

After she reoriented herself with the original intent of being outside, Cheerilee began going on her way. The pony left the circle that contained her house, and, via the walkway connecting the pod to the rest of the town, the pony proceeded to walk towards the village center. On her way to the nucleus, the pony crossed over a relatively small bridge, which, allowing her to stop and note a clear view of the gleaming frozen stream that went through her part of the village, was, for one reason or another, far more slippery than the rest of the path that she had taken, causing her acute difficulties while traversing it.

The now cautious pony continued to make her way towards the nucleus, and, upon completing this, entered the distribution center, a large, hemispherical structure that, among other things, contained some commodities that were most prudent to the morning’s activity: a couple of blankets. After looking through the compartment that contained such items, it was apparent that she was not the only person that had been through the distribution center that morning. By analyzing the situation, she arrived at the stance that it was indeed her friend whom had already acquired blankets. Cheerilee took some more, though, in the unlikely event that her assumption was incorrect, recorded the action by stamping one of her hoof prints into the log,—this was designed to measure the utilization and distribution of resources among the villagers—and, after securing her materials, resumed walking towards the hill, located on the other side of the village from which she had arisen.

Her trip took her through an empty, frozen expanse of the village which, in the warmer seasons, was bustling with crops—the agricultural ‘belt’. The belt, densest on the southern side of the village, stretched around its’ entire circumference; this design was to maximize the efficiency of the transportation of harvests to the village center. Uninterested in stopping to contemplate the agronomics of her life, Cheerilee continued frolicking her way through the empty fields, until reaching the outer extremes of her civilization.

Upon reaching the boundaries of the village, Cheerilee stopped once more, analyzing the trees that separated her from her destination. Though the expanse of forestry parting her from the village’s overlooking hill was merely less than half a kilometer thick, the disdainful pony viewed the short hike as a wilderness—an odyssey that would have required an insurmountable quantity of effort of which to overcome.

Finally getting over her annoyance, the pony initiated her walk into the ‘wild’. She continued walking for several minutes, stopping only to note the occasional ‘pitter-patter’ that was resultant from the movement of the certain animals that were not hibernators. After a few more minutes of walking, the now anticipatory pony arrived to what appeared to be a clearing in the tree line;—the clearing was indicated with the sudden lessening of the trees, corresponded with a widening of the pathway—after making note of the scene, she proceeded to walk through the clearing. The clearing morphed into the extreme top of the overlooking hill. This hill was more along the lines of a cliff, though, as it was a good forty meters above the ground, allowing Cheerilee to see all of Ponyville,—in all of its glory—as well as the somewhat distant horizons.

As Cheerilee turned to her left, she could see another person, her friend, wrapped up with a blanket, laying on her side, looking off into the distance. Not all of her friend’s body was covered, though; her tail, with clear, definitive mauve and purple stripes, was visible. The figure noted Cheerilee’s arrival and proceeded to turn around, making herself known. Cheerilee could clearly see her friend’s light brown face, her beautifully delicate smile, and her eyes;— starring compassionately at the mauve pony, shining in the moonlight, dazzlingly—this was Scootaloo, Cheerilee’s younger sister, who she had had a profound affinity towards for a large majority of their lives.

As Cheerilee sat down next to her sister, the two ponies said nothing, only starring of into the abyss of the horizons. Scootaloo, despite the fact that she had a blanket on, was shivering, and Cheerilee decided that it would be a good idea to try cuddling with her frigid sister. The mauve pony, knowing that her sister was quite sensitive to this kind of thing—Scootaloo was the type of person who would not be caught dead willingly engaging in intimate acts such as this with anyone, including her sister—smiled, and merely extended her left foreleg in her sister’s direction, as to indicate an invitation for her to come closer.

Scootaloo was not hesitant to oblige, and proceeded to sit in the lap of her older sister, wrapped her forelegs around Cheerilee’s neck, and nestled her head underneath the right side of her sister’s chin. The mauve pony came in for a finish by wrapping her forelegs around her sibling, and began rubbing the back of the brown pony’s neck,—a location with an above average level of sensitivity—and threw herself backwards, her back against the ground. Scootaloo, being more of the domineering type, was on top of this cuddle pile of sorts. She purred, enjoying the sensation of her neck being rubbed.

The two said nothing to each other; they were still, for the most part. The ponies merely gave each other an occasional stroke, whether on each other’s necks, faces, or through their manes, and just listened to each other, feeling each other’s warmth, heartbeats, and the cyclic rhythm of their breathing.

This would go on for several minutes, until Scootaloo decided to break the silence.

“So, what will you wish for?” asked the brown pony.

“What?” responded the mauve pony, still not fully cognitively able.

“You know, the festival?” said Scootaloo.

“Oh, right,” Cheerilee responded. “I dunno; I haven’t been able to think of anything, just been longing for something more out-of-the-ordinary. You know, since the hiatus that was last year’s festival?”

“Well, I don’t exactly understand why you would want that again, considering the fact that you didn’t eat for over a day and had to sleep outside, in the cold, with little to no proper gear,” said the younger pony.

The mauve pony was silent for a few seconds, thinking, before she uttered, “I just want more problems to solve. More puzzles to complete. Something to spice up this now boring existence,” The pony again said nothing for a minute, staring off into the distance. “But even if I did know what my wish was, why would I tell you?” she asked, jokingly.

The two continued talking casually for several minutes, becoming more anticipatory towards the upcoming festival. Sometime after, they had almost forgotten about their original reason for being outside in this quiet, sleepy part of the morning; it was then that their memories were revived when the first echelons of sunlight made themselves known.

The first ray of sunlight shinned brilliantly from the horizons, illuminating—from the perspective of ponies whom had, by this point, adjusted their eyes to the darkness—the entire cliff base and the anterior clearing in the tree line, stunningly, beautifully, dazzlingly, causing Scootaloo to exclaim, “Look!”.

The two ponies held each other as they watched the Sun make its debut for this day; its beams shattered the darkness of the early morning, basking all of the valley in its glory. The sisters cherished every second of the sunrise, knowing that they would not have much opportunity to sit around like this, for the next few days would be would be spent preparing for and partaking in one of the most esteemed holidays for all of ponydom—the Winter Wishes Festival.

Author's Note

The original version of this chapter remains here for those whom may be interested in the changes made during revisions. Any future chapters will be based off of the revised version.