Winter came right as Cranky got the mail. He had noticed a nip in the air for the past week or so, and his worn joints kept creaking in complaint. But these were natural things a donkey could get used to given enough time. He’d endured far worse during his long trek across Equestria, forever searching for the love of his life and now soon-to-be wife.
Ah, Matilda. She possessed the uncanny ability to make the years melt away in his heart.
On the morning in question, Cranky had slept in until close to noon. He was still groggy when he creaked outside. Smacking his lips, Cranky made his usual trek along the narrow dirt pathway to the appropriate spot. Without opening his eyes he reached down, placed the mailbox (knocked down as usual due to some mail pony) atop its wooden stake, and retrieved the letters from inside.
Then came the explosion, preceded by a faraway shrill squeal and followed by a full-scale avalanche that roared like a dragon launched headfirst right towards him. One moment Cranky was standing there, gradually wading into consciousness and ready to head inside for a warm cup of ground oats, and the next moment he got consumed by several inches of snow.
When Cranky finally managed to force his head out of the newly made snowdrift, he could only gaze dumbfounded at Ponyville transformed into a winter wonderland. The ponies in town seemed confused as Cranky was about the fiasco. However, he suspected, and the Ponyville Chronicle soon confirmed, that apparently some foolish pegasus had almost blown apart the entire factory in Cloudsdale—and all to stop winter from coming.
“I tell you, Matilda,” Cranky grumbled several days later during lunch, “these ponies get crazier and crazier. If it’s not one thing, it’s another. They can’t leave well enough alone.” A snort punctuated his words.
Matilda simply took another bite of her daffodil sandwich. There were times when she didn’t say anything, Cranky had noticed, and just let him rant until her utter peacefulness calmed him down. She knew him too well, and that it usually didn’t take Cranky long to start feeling as if he were making a big deal out of things yet again. Besides, Matilda had taken to wearing a lavender shawl about her shoulders to ward off the winter chill, which brightened her eyes and kept distracting him. She looked so breathtaking right then, even his latest gripes might have soon faded away.
Yet then Matilda said, “Princess Twilight says it was an accident. I guess the pony involved didn’t want to lose her friend over winter, and things went out of control from there.”
“And that’s just the problem, isn’t it?” Cranky shoved his chair back with a curt squeak, hooves firm on the table. “I know the ponies here in Ponyville are a good bunch at heart. Still, a friendship crisis is no excuse to blow up someplace like a factory.” He groaned, ears drooping. “At this rate, who knows what sort of calamity might happen on our wedding day?”
A smile tweaked his lips as a thought struck him.
“Say, we should elope instead! Tell no pony and take off to Manehattan or Seaddle.” Already Cranky could picture the two of them walking the streets of these cities, enjoying the sights, or even strolling across a sandy beach at sunset.
He’d always wanted to take Matilda to the beach, nice and warm, near the peaceful swishing waves. They would watch the sunset, and as the light faded Cranky would lean in for a kiss.
“Oh Cranky Doodle,” Matilda cooed in his vision, “we couldn’t do that.”
His sunset daydream shattered.
“Why not?” Cranky asked, blinking to readjust to the dim interior of his house.
“What about celebrating the occasion with our friends here? We already promised to hold the ceremony at City Hall. Every pony would miss us.”
Matilda was right, as usual. They had promised. And despite everything, Cranky had to confess to having grown fond of the ponies in town. They were crazy, but they were the crazy, kindly sort who would have been devastated at the very thought of them eloping without warning—especially a certain young pony, whom Cranky could already imagine sitting in a puddle of her own tears, eyes large and doleful.
As if she could read his thoughts, Matilda added, “Pinkie Pie would feel particularly sad. She’s our wedding planner, after all.”
“Yes, Pinkie would feel sad.” Actually, sad would have been an understatement. If Cranky had thought blowing up a factory over friendship was bad, he shuddered to think what might result if Pinkie couldn’t find them. So he flopped back onto his chair. He heaved a heavy sigh and glanced at the frost clinging to the windowpane. “Maybe the cold weather is getting to me. That and staying cooped up in this house.” The very thought of it made his joints throb slightly. “Winter and I have never exactly gotten along, and it reminds me that we’ll have to wait another season before our wedding.”
“We’ve endured longer waits than a season.” Matilda reached across the table, placing her hoof on his. “Also, it’s colder in this house than it is outdoors. You should try to go and enjoy the winter here, Cranky Doodle. Ponyville has the nicest in Equestria, in my opinion.”
“All right, Matilda,” Cranky relented, and they nuzzled. “I’ll do my best.”
If Matilda was always right, then Cranky was always true to his word.
The follow day found the donkey bundled up in a hoof-knitted sweater and stocking cap, ploughing through the snow down to Ponyville. His hooves made soft crunching sounds on the snow along the road into town, cleared only hours before by a crew of ponies. They waved as Cranky went past, and he returned their greeting with a bob of the head. They had done a fairly good job of clearing most of the main roads. Ponies huddled together near the buildings, used excess snow to build miniature snow ponies, and filled the air with both their laughter and light-hearted chatter.
At least they were having a good time.
It still came across as a little too much for a donkey wading into winter to handle all at once. Things would only get worse if he ventured too close to Sugarcube Corner, and Pinkie Pie learned about his promise to Matilda.
She was a nice kid, but she would have gone too fast for Cranky.
So Cranky opted for the calmer stretches of the nearby White Tail Woods. The snow here was thicker, and he had to pick up his hooves more. Yet he could pause and rest whenever he liked. He wandered past the leafless trees. For all their peace, though, Cranky couldn’t shake the feeling of familiarity associated with White Tails Woods in the midst of winter. The association only grew stronger and more confusing the longer Cranky struggled to think of a means to enjoy winter, and strove to remember if at any point he had ever looked forward to this season. His memories, unconsciously, started to rewind, to back before Cranky wandered Equestria searching for Matilda, and even back before he decided to attend the Galloping Gala where they first met. His memories went back further and further, until the image of a small village with thatched, snow-clad rooftops and smoke coming out of chimneys appeared before his mind’s eye.
In other words, Cranky remembered his hometown and his days as a youngster. He froze in place. Those times were like faded photographs from an entirely different life. He hadn’t gone back to his village in decades, and he also hadn’t thought about it in decades.
But somehow it was as if Cranky could now glimpse his younger self laughing while running along the village street, through the freshly fallen snow, only too vividly. He remembered dragging a sled with great energy past donkeys into the forest, in which he knew the location of the perfect sledding slope for a daring soul. He had been the type of daring soul who built enormous snow forts and often got into ardent snowball fights with the other youngsters. And once he was old enough, Cranky had planned to travel as much as possible, and to learn as much as he could out in the larger world.
For Cranky had loved playing in the snow almost as much as he loved adventure.
The thought surprised him.
Huh. Perhaps Cranky had enjoyed winter once.
When had that changed? Cranky peered at the pale cloudless skies beyond the bony branches. A sudden wind gust whistled past, and then his gaze dropped to the fresh snow. Pushing a hoof into the whiteness, he started to curl it up into a smooth snowball. As a young donkey he had found the perfect way to do it once, almost like scooping up ice cream. Cranky concentrated, trying to find the right angle to begin rolling. Then his ears perked up at the sounds of snapping branches off to his right, breaking into his soul-searching.
Half a second later Cranky heard some pony shout, “Whoa, watch out!”
On instinct, Cranky jerked backwards. Which was just enough to avoid getting struck by what appeared to be a rainbow, but not enough to prevent getting spun around by it. The world swirled in a series of crackling joints and dancing recollections.
Ice-skating. Ah, Cranky used to do that too.
The next thing Cranky knew he lay on the ground, with the scenery rocking back into place, alongside the face of a pony he recognized primarily due to her association with Pinkie Pie (and the fact that she’d helped save Equestria time and again). Of course, even if Cranky hadn’t known Pinkie Pie, it was hard to miss this particular pegasus pony given the way she zipped around Ponyville all the time.
“Oops, my bad. Hey, are you all right?” Rainbow Dash asked, hovering over him, “Uh . . . let’s see. What was your name again?”
“Cranky!” Cranky sat up, brought back to his senses by sheer outrage. “The name is Cranky. How many donkeys do you know in Ponyville, kid?”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Chill, Cranky! I’m just kidding. No need to get so upset.”
“I’m upset because some pony nearly ran me over!”
“Oh, yeah. Fair enough.” Rainbow Dash dropped to the ground, clearly apologetic at last. “Like I said, it was my bad. Huh, here you go.” Here she reached out with Cranky’s stocking cap in hoof, which had likely gotten blown off in all the confusion. This gesture, combined with her somewhat humbled air, softened Cranky somewhat. He recalled his promise to try and enjoy winter, and getting into an argument wouldn’t help that one bit. “Oh, and you’ll probably want this too, huh?” Rainbow Dash held out a suave though slightly disheveled toupee.
Out of the spirit of compromise, Cranky didn’t comment on the state of his toupee. “Thanks,” he said instead, accepting both the toupee and cap, and putting them back into place. “I also guess I ought to apologize for snapping at you. Why were you such a big rush, though? Winter isn’t going anywhere in a hurry.”
“Yeah, I know.” The answer sounded so depressed that Cranky couldn’t help but take notice. Rainbow Dash poked at the snow with her hoof, as Cranky had done moments before. But her mind was clearly elsewhere. Then she noticed Cranky looking and cleared her throat. “Actually, if you really want to know, I was on my way to visit a friend of mine.”
“Your friend?” Cranky hadn’t thought any pony lived in this part of the forest. “Where?”
“In the next glade over. Come on, I’ll show you.” With that said, Rainbow Dash took off—gently this time—and flew past the bushes nearby, while Cranky followed at his own slow pace. By the time he reached it, Rainbow had landed near the roots of a particularly thick tree, close to a large mound of snow.
Uh oh.
The bottom dropped out of Cranky’s stomach. “Your friend?” he asked.
“My friend Tank.” Rainbow Dash indicated the mound. “I’ve been sort of coming to visit him over the last several days, to read him stories about Daring Do, or to simply talk about my awesome exploits over this winter.” For a moment the youngster puffed out her chest and looked proud. But then, gazing at the mound, she sighed and deflated somewhat. “Still, it hasn’t been the same without him.” She sniffed and wiped away a sudden tear. Cranky had never seen the pony so still or pensive, and the difference from her usual spry and foolhardy manner rattled him a bit.
“Gee, I’m sorry, kid.” Cranky plopped down at her side, a bit ashamed now. Here he’d been chastising this young pony when she was on her way to visit some friend buried deep in the forest. Honestly, Cranky couldn’t remember ever having met this Tank—though he was obviously some pony who had meant a lot to Rainbow Dash. Enough to keep her focusing on her flying, at least. “Winter can really take a toll, depending on the pony.”
“Normally I love winter,” Rainbow Dash pressed on. “I’d spent months getting ready for our incredible winter together, doing all sorts of cool stuff that would make this the best winter ever. Until I learned Tank couldn’t handle the colder weather. Then, nothing became more important to me than trying to stop it and keep my pal around.”
The confession was like a stone dropped into a pond.
“So you were the pony who nearly blew up the cloud factory?” Cranky asked in a calm tone, although inside he couldn’t help wincing at how mad he’d been over the same event earlier. Maybe it was because he knew more about the situation. In any case, Cranky took a deep breath and kept his attention focused on the mound. “You blew up the cloud factory because you wanted to save your friend.”
“Yeah, I know now that it was foolish. I was wrong to try and keep winter from coming. It wasn’t fair to every pony. It was selfish and wrong. I just got desperate and didn’t think clearly, you know?” Rainbow Dash shook her head. “Now I’m not even sure what I was thinking, to go that far. Maybe I just went crazy.”
“Love,” Cranky said.
Rainbow Dash looked at him, puzzled.
“When you love or care for some pony a lot, you’re willing to do just about anything for her or him. That’s something I’ve learned over the years.” Cranky managed a small smile. “I know what I’m talking about, kid. I spent years looking for Matilda, from one edge of Equestria to the other, and overcoming numerous trials on the way. Sometimes I thought about giving up, or wondered if Matilda was lost to me forever. The thought of seeing her again kept me moving.”
“I didn’t realize you’d traveled that far. Pinkie Pie mentioned you’d been searching for Matilda a long time, but I didn’t think of what that meant. Must have been tough, huh?”
“Of course, I started when I was younger and kind of reckless myself.” Cranky chuckled. “I took risks and made mistakes, so I suppose I can kind of understand where you’re coming from. Once my recklessness even got me face-to-face with Wendigoes, and I just barely got out of that mess.”
“Whoa, it’s almost like you’re the donkey version of Daring Do!” Rainbow Dash burst out.
“Daring who, now?”
“Only the greatest adventurer to ever live!” The lack of recognition on Cranky’s face, or perhaps something else she saw there, made Rainbow Dash pause and clear her throat. “Well, never mind, I’ll tell you all about Daring Do later. First, tell me about this whole confrontation with Wendigoes.”
Cranky wasn’t exactly sure if a story about facing down an icy herd that could freeze ponies was the most appropriate at the moment, particularly given the winter weather and mound before them. However, Rainbow Dash appeared to perk up again—and Cranky couldn’t just let the kid down, could he? And perhaps the tale would help them both face the rest of winter.
“Tank would like to hear it too,” Rainbow Dash tacked on, which only sealed the matter.
“All right then, kid,” Cranky said. “I’ll tell you what there is to tell.”
Cranky had gotten lost deep in one of the farthest forested regions of Equestria during the very heart of winter. The ponies in the last town he’d passed through had warned him about the harsh, unpredictable weather in their parts. They claimed the forest that stretched to the north of them was similar to the Everfree Forest, where nature was wilder and moved without the gentle guidance of any pony. They also mentioned, in hushed tones, Wendigoes supposedly roamed among the trees in the winter. So the ponies had encouraged Cranky to wait out the rest of the season in town until springtime came.
But Cranky had never seen the Everfree Forest, and the thought of nature moving on its own fascinated more than frightened him. He saw the skies overhead were clear for miles around and shook his head at the follies of superstition. Besides, one of the locals had mentioned a young donkey matching Matilda’s description had come by that way a week or two earlier to visit a cousin in the town on the other side of the woods. So in a burst of youthful naiveté, mixed with hopes of finally reuniting with Matilda, Cranky had laughed off the warnings and headed right into the forest. He was sure that, come evening, he would be in the next town over and ideally laughing with Matilda in a warm, cozy house somewhere.
He was wrong.
He was horribly wrong.
The woods indeed had a magic all their own, getting Cranky turned around even he was sure of traveling in a straight line. It was as if they wanted anyone who entered them to stay forever. And then a blizzard started to pick up as time passed, the skies grew darker, and Cranky became more and more desperate. The fierce winds blew away his map, along with many of his supplies, while the frigid conditions made Cranky numb to the very core. He collapsed in a snowy glade at one point, sure that before long he would freeze to death.
As Cranky lay there, he heard a series of whinnies that echoed all around him. Then, from the corner of one eye, he saw them—a trio of what looked like spectral horses with bright silver eyes stampeding through the skies overhead. Wendigoes. They were singing some old tune in a language Cranky didn’t recognize, but which sounded ancient and somehow managed to chill him afresh. Even in such a perilous situation, though, Cranky couldn’t help thinking that they had a certain beauty. Like a smoky stream, perhaps.
One of these Wendigoes noticed him.
“Look, Sisters,” the Wendigo whistled. “Look at the pony who dares to roam through our woods, and who has gotten lost in the snow.”
“Not a pony, but a donkey,” another Wendigo corrected. Her cries were higher-pitched and shriller than the first. “Though whether a donkey or a pony, it’s such a pitiful sight.”
“Shall we put him out of his misery, Sisters?” a third Wendigo squealed, and her voice was the shrillest of the three. “It would be a mercy. A sweet, painless mercy.”
“Yes, we should,” the first Wendigo who spoke replied. “Although before we freeze him, I am curious why he dared to come here. Surely he has heard tales of us?” So saying, she drifted down and landed a matter of hoof falls away. “Speak, young donkey,” the Wendigo demanded, “and tell us what we want to know.”
“Likely he is too weak to speak, Sister,” the second Wendigo to speak said. “Just let him be, and let us freeze him.”
Cranky had listened with great fear to this whole conversation, yet also with a growing sense of agitation. Here were these creatures, however magical, who were chatting as if he were some inconsequential object they’d stumbled across. As if he didn’t have a mind of his own. And Cranky found them deciding his fate so loftily more than he could stand.
“The inhabitants hereabouts are getting too bold, Sisters,” the third Wendigo scoffed. “Perhaps after we freeze this one, we should proceed to the next town through these woods. They are so isolated, we can bury them in snow and watch as they fight among each other to survive, and not even their precious Princess Celestia would know what had happened until afterwards.” At which all three of the Wendigoes laughed, tickled by the possibility. However, the comment made Cranky boil inside, because he knew this next town was the one Matilda might have headed towards.
Matilda, and all the residents of that town, were in danger.
“My name is Cranky,” he shouted in a surprisingly strong voice. As Cranky spoke, he struggled to his hooves. Inside, it was as if he felt a blaze were starting to burn. “Cranky Doodle Donkey. And you’d better leave that town alone,” he pressed on, and the three Wendigoes started aback. Clearly they hadn’t expected a response of any kind from him.
“Or what, little donkey?” the third Wendigo recovered, sounding cross. “You are surrounded by our Sisters, and far from any shelter, so what hope could you possibly have to—”
“Leave them alone!” Cranky stomped one hoof, and now the blaze inside made him feel quite warm. And, for some reason, shock began to show across the faces of all three Wendigoes. Cranky didn’t pause for a minute to consider why. Instead he was thinking of Matilda, with her bright smile and the way she had kissed him so sweetly. He had to protect Matilda.
“What? What is this heat?” The second of the Wendigoes retreated back a pace. “He is but a lone donkey, so what is this intensity?”
“He is like a furnace, Sisters,” the first of the Wendigoes said. “A furnace in our forest.”
“The sight of him burns me!” the third Wendigo screeched. “Nonetheless, I will freeze him!” The Wendigo charged forward, right at Cranky.
Being stubborn even then, though, Cranky stood his ground and launched himself forwards. He met the Wendigo head-to-head, and a shiver ran through his body as if he’d gotten plunged into ice-cold water. Yet steam also rose up in a billow, and the third Wendigo cried out in a mixture of surprise and agony.
The other two Wendigoes, affrighted by what had happened, turned tail and ran—followed soon after by their steaming Sister. They shot far away into the air, and with them the blizzard died down. Cranky watched them go with a feeling of satisfaction. Now they would surely leave the town alone. If Matilda was there, she would be safe. The warmth drained from him.
Cranky collapsed once again, this time succumbing to the darkness.
When Cranky woke up, he was at a medical clinic in the next town over, the town he had been trying to reach. Some pony had found him out in the snow that morning, nearly frozen, muttering about Wendigoes. The doctor chastised Cranky for wandering about in the forest at night. He also didn’t seem to believe his story about meeting Wendigoes in the woods, implying that Cranky might have hallucinated due to fatigue and the bitter cold. Truly, it did sound much too dreamlike as Cranky went over the whole thing in his head, such as the part about him blazing inside and driving them away with heat. Despite all that, he had a certain chill in his limbs which would return whenever winter came around from then onwards.
Furthermore, Cranky received another disappointment. The donkey who had come to town hadn’t been Matilda at all. She was a much younger donkey, somewhere around her teenage years. At least she and her cousin, at hearing his adventure in the forest, had actually believed him. By the time he left the following day, though, Cranky was full of doubts about his whole experience. Although years later, when Matilda and he happened to bump into the same donkey, she would comment that since Cranky’s visit the woods had become safer and less treacherous than before. Their town received more travelers than ever, and had grown quite a bit. Additionally, ponies had stopped talking about Wendigoes appearing there.
“So there you go, kid. That’s it,” Cranky finished with a sigh, “except for how I started to prefer warmer weather afterwards.”
“Oh my gosh, oh my gosh, oh my gosh!” Rainbow Dash was staring at him with eyes wide. “Why didn’t I ask you to tell me this sooner?” She was flying, wings quivering. “That. Was. So. Awesome!”
Despite himself, Cranky found himself quite warm after telling his story. Matilda had been right—Ponyville’s winter came nowhere close to the storm he had weathered years ago. Still Cranky sighed. “Of course, as I’ve said, all that was during my younger days. And I guess I could have more fun during the winter then. Now I’m just an old donkey with worn joints.” At that moment it as if the weight of years surged back through him, and he reached his hooves with great effort. “Maybe I’d better get back home.”
“Wait a minute.” Rainbow Dash zipped around in front of him. “You can have fun during winter at any age. Come with me.”
Before Cranky could protest, Rainbow Dash ushered him into the glade where they’d met and began rolling the snow along the ground into a nice-sized snowball. The base of a snow pony. She added a head and tail, although they were rather rough in Cranky’s opinion. He could do a nicer job, and as if on instinct he started a snow donkey of his own.
“All right, see? It’s simple,” Rainbow Dash announced, after patting the final features into place on her snow pony. But then she took a look at Cranky’s project and gasped. “Whoa! How did you do that?”
Rainbow Dash had every right to gawk. For there stood a snow donkey with smooth curves, well-defined features, and eyes that seemed ready to blink at any time. And, despite himself, Cranky smiled.
“That is what years of experience looks like, kid,” Cranky simply said. “You still have a long way to catch up to me when it comes to snow-sculpting.”
The snow sculpting contest evolved into snow forts, which led on to snow angels, and even a subdued snowball fight—during which Cranky had to admit Rainbow Dash threw a mean curveball. What’s more, Cranky’s joints didn’t bother him nearly so much as they had before. They played about in the snow until the evening hours, which later seemed to pass like a dream. And when they parted ways it was as better friends than before.
“Maybe these ponies are not as crazy as I thought,” Cranky reported to Matilda the following afternoon. “It was a big misunderstanding, with the accident at the snow factory. If I’d known Rainbow Dash’s friend Tank couldn’t survive the cold weather, I would have understood, I think.”
“Couldn’t survive?” Matilda asked.
“He was some pony Rainbow Dash cared for greatly. Thankfully, a few stories and hours of fun in the snow helped take her mind off his passing.” Cranky sipped from a warm cup of ground oats.
“That was kind of you. As always, you’re a true donkey of character.” Matilda smiled at him. “I’m sure Rainbow Dash would enjoy meeting up with you throughout the winter, and then even after Tank wakes up again in the spring.”
“Wakes up again?” Now Cranky was bewildered. “Matilda, what in the name of Celestia do you mean?”
“I mean, Cranky Doo, that Tank is Rainbow Dash’s pet tortoise. Didn’t you know?”
The silence yawned between them, while Cranky allowed this information to sink in fully. Then he grumbled, “Crazy ponies.”
Yet there was a smile on his lips.
Author's Note
I hope you enjoy this! 
