Night falls like a cotton blanket over Ponyville. Outside, along the dirt streets, a small team of pegasi flit from lantern to lantern, oil lamps clutched between their forehooves. One by one, rings of gold light appear along the valley in their wake, as the final grey glow of the cloud-masked sun disappears behind the Canterlot Range. Shops glow proudly from within along the main road, the only paved expanse in Ponyville, their windows and the wares behind shining like gems. On the edge of the town, a small store is lit only by a single candle above the heavy oak door, the flame flickering in time with the swinging sign above it. So far apart from the night bustle, it could easily be missed, mistaken for the other houses around it, where many had already retired for the evening.
Inside, Heart Felt sat in her study, by her sewing machine, listening to the wind rattle her shutters. It had been a quiet day. Quiet days were her favourites; when perhaps only one of her regular customers dropped by with a quilt to patch. Quilts were not her favourite things to fix, but they were easy, there were plenty of them that needed repairing, and no other haberdasheries in Ponyville to do it. The clothing boutique on the hill did not offer repairs, and the prices were beyond her customers' ranges anyway. Her sole visitor of the day had been an elderly mare named Rhubarb Crumble, who lived only a few houses down the road from the store. She made delicious pies, but was terribly clumsy, so she was often visiting Heart's store to get things mended.
Hoof-stitching was much slower than using her machine, but it was relaxing, and she preferred to do it at night. Reaching for her pin cushion, rain began to patter on the roof above her head. A storm was coming. “I hope Rhubarb brought her laundry in,” Heart mumbled to herself, holding up the quilt to inspect her handiwork, ensuring the flowery patch she was sewing down was not crooked. Said quilt had been repaired many times, but it was patchwork to begin with. Rhubarb often said the additional patches gave it more personality, and Heart Felt had to agree. Over the years the thick blanket had acquired pieces of fabric from across Equestria, often scraps of whatever Heart had lying around that day. A square of shimmery gold silk, a ragged cutting of spotted felt, a heart-shaped piece of cotton. There were once tassels around the edges, but Heart had removed them long ago. Beneath her hooves, the thick quilt was repaired once again, and she folded it on a stool, waiting for Rhubarb to collect it the following day.
A wild gust of wind suddenly slammed into the side of the house, and with a start, Heart heard the shutters in her loft bedroom crash open and begin to bang about. Rain came in slashes through the window, pelting the wood floor. “Darn it,” Heart cursed, hurrying up the ladder and struggling with the lurching shutters. They gave a resounding creak, struggling against her hooves, before finally clicking shut. She pushed the latch down to keep them in place, and exhaled sharply with relief. The floor was soaked. A reasonably-sized puddle spread from her hind-hooves across the floor, nearly reaching her bedroom rug. “If I don’t clean this up, it’ll leak through to the store,” she sighed, lifting one dripping hoof from the water.
But before she could make for her cleaning supplies, the bell above the shop door chimed as it opened. The sound of the wind and rain was heard for a moment, before cutting off as the door closed. “I’ll be right there!” Heart Felt called, scrambling back down the ladder and hurrying towards the front. Perhaps it was Rhubarb, already missing her quilt-
The small earth pony stopped dead as she stepped into the shopfront, her hooves skidding a little, still wet from the puddle. In front of her, on the other side of the counter, stood the first bat pony she had ever seen up-close.
Most of them she had spied only for a moment, while peeking from her windows. Princess Luna’s guard comprised mostly of bat ponies. The townsfolk were terrified of them based on long-told legends; they were vicious and cruel ponies, sleeping through Celestia’s day to tread only Luna’s night, perhaps even as Nightmare Moon’s kin. They had fangs and sharp wing-claws and eerie, glowing cat-eyes. They could not be trusted. Civilian bat ponies were never seen; rumors told of an entire nation of them, somewhere beyond Equestria’s borders, but none were ever seen walking the streets. Heart Felt had often wondered if the legends were true. Since Princess Luna had returned, she was again seen with her guard of bats, and even from a distance they didn’t look that vicious or cruel. They were loyal to the princess, no matter her past. Heart Felt had to admit they were a little interesting. But being faced with one so suddenly, so closely, she felt her muscles lock and her heart take off in panic.
The bat pony was tall, taller than her at least, and wore a thick, black travelling cloak that was dripping onto the floor. Her coat was midnight blue, her short, silvery hair pulled back into a messy ponytail. Her eyelashes were thick, her eyes honey gold, and decorated with a light dusting of pink eye shadow. Most bats Heart had seen were varying shades of grey, so she had assumed they were all coloured like that. Compared to the royal guards, this one was oddly bright.
Teetering in the doorway as Heart was, it took a moment for the bat to notice her, since she was looking at the displays of stuffed animals on the far wall. As she fixed her odd slit pupils on the other mare, Heart swallowed, and somehow found her voice. “W-welcome to my haberdashery,” she wavered, taking her usual place behind the counter. “How c-can I help you?” The bat pony offered her a small, friendly smile, and Heart dropped her eyes to the counter immediately, ashamed. She must have been gawking something terrible. Before she could muster up an apology, a little plush lion was placed gently on the polished wood surface before her.
“Do you do repairs?” came the velvety voice in front of her, and Heart dared a quick upward glance before fixing her gaze on the lion. One of its arm seams had come open, the stuffing inside showing. The black button serving as its right eye was also loose. It was a very cute plush, not something Heart Felt would have expected the mare in front of her to own. As if reading her mind, she said “It’s my sister’s. She loves it a lot. She told me she, uhh….dropped it into some brambles, and this was how she found it.”
At that, Heart looked up at her customer properly. She was still smiling, and though her cat-like eyes were intimidating, they were warm. Not even the fangs poking down over her bottom lip betrayed how friendly she looked. A nice bat pony? What of their legendarily cruel dispositions? Heart gingerly picked up the lion and inspected the damage closer. There were a few thorns in its back and one or two in its head, but nothing that could not be repaired. “Yes, I can fix this,” she said, slightly braver, daring once more to look her guest in the eye. The bat pony smiled wider.
“Great.”
Heart Felt set the lion back on the counter, fidgeting a little on her stool.
“It won’t take too long, if you’d…...like to wait here,” she said, looking at the floor again. The storm outside was just as fierce, battering the shop walls. “I can fix the lion in less than an hour, and then maybe the storm will have settled a little.” She pointed with one hoof at the tall rack by the door. “Please….feel free to hang your cloak there.”
Scarpering from the room and almost tripping on her own hooves, Heart went to fetch her sewing kit from beside the sewing machine. She could hear the bat pony rustling with her cloak in the front room, and took a moment to breathe deeply. As nervous as she was, she couldn’t help but to feel a little excited - she was speaking to a real bat pony! A real, live bat pony was in her store, asking her to repair something. This was a rare chance. Bundling up her kit, Heart returned to the front room, where the bat was now sitting on a stool at the counter, her forehooves folded politely on the surface and a pleasant smile still on her face. Without her cloak, the earth pony could now see her wings - the dark pink arms held a single claw each that Heart didn’t think looked that sharp, with pale pink webbing stretching between the fingers. “You have a lovely store,” she said, and Heart blushed delicately at having been caught staring again. There was an almost-purr to her voice, and a strangely-pleasant lilt - she had never heard a bat pony speak before. The slightest of accents edged her hard consonants, but Heart Felt couldn’t place where it might be from.
Managing a weak “Thank you”, she took her place on the other side of the counter, and set her kit beside the lion. She reached for her pin cushion, sliding the band over her left hoof, and began to pin the lion’s arm seam back together. It was obviously well-loved. Her insides warmed a little at the thought of a filly somewhere getting her beloved lion mended, and a small smile grew on her face as she concentrated. The bat pony sitting across from her, not wanting to be rude, had looked once again to the shelves on the walls. Without eyes on her, Heart felt herself grow a little more confident.
“Are you from around here?” she asked quietly, never looking up from her work for fear her voice would leave her. The taller mare shook her head, and Heart saw it in her peripheral vision.
“I come here once every two weeks to pick up supplies for my own store, back in Canterlot,” she explained. “It’s a long journey, but nowhere else would I find fruit of such good quality, and there are other things to get here anyway. It’s always worth the trip.”
Heart idly wondered what kind of store she ran. Perhaps a bakery, she mused, as she pulled the thorns from the lion’s fur with a pair of tweezers held in her mouth.
“I don’t suppose you get many bat pony customers,” she said coyly, looking at the seamstress out the corner of her eye. Heart paused guiltily, her mouth hanging open slightly. The tweezers fell out, Heart flailing to catch them with her one free hoof, before they clattered on the counter noisily and then fell off the far edge, to the floor. The bat pony giggled demurely behind one hoof. Heart’s face burned. “I don’t mind,” said her customer, “I’m quite used to it. It’s alright.” She ducked out of sight for a moment, then returned with the tweezers, offering them back to Heart. “I rather appreciate the company of someone who isn’t running away in terror.”
Heart Felt’s curiosity overwhelmed her nerves, and she found herself wanting to talk to her more as she resumed her work. “If you don’t mind me asking, why Canterlot?”
Flicking her fluffy ears, the other mare said, “It’s where the others of my kind have set up. The Equestrian day-walking bat ponies, that is. It’s nice to be around others who are in the same situation.” Heart didn’t even know there were diurnal bat ponies.
“How many of you are there?” she asked before she could stop herself, still staring steadfastly at the lion in her hooves. A small humming sound.
“Very few. Maybe five or six? We don’t all come from the same tribe.”
Expertly threading a needle, Heart Felt began to stitch up the lion’s arm with a small spool of tan thread removing the pins as she reached them. She set the bobbin on a tiny hook on the counter, so it would not roll away as she worked. “And why did you decide to become diurnal?”
“It was not much of a decision. A few tribes have been that way for centuries.”
“Is that why you’re so brightly coloured?”
When no answer came forth, Heart Felt paused and glanced up, afraid she’d offended her guest - but the bat pony was grinning, her shoulders shaking a little with suppressed laughter. “Yes,” she said. “I’m a bit different from what you’ve heard, aren’t I?”
Heart Felt stuck her needle in her pin cushion, reaching over to untangle a knot in the bobbin. “You’re a lot different,” she admitted. Thunder boomed off in the distance, and Heart jumped, sending the bobbin skittering across the floor with a trail of thread in its wake. Still chuckling, the bat pony went after it. From her vantage point, Heart could see on her flank was a pink crescent moon, surrounded by three large yellow sparkles, and wondered what it could mean. It occurred to her that she didn’t even know bat ponies could have cutie marks, and felt a bit ashamed for assuming.
Upon the return of the newly-wound bobbin, Heart Felt was just about to get back to her work when-
“Moon Sugar.”
She looked up again. The bat was resting one elbow on the counter, her chin in her hoof, the other extended towards the seamstress. Nervously, she took it with her pin cushion hoof, shaking it gently. “Heart Felt.”
The minutes passed slowly, with the din of the storm outside providing a strange hush to their conversation. Heart asked Moon questions about her life in Canterlot, and learned that she was a candy maker who had moved to the city with her sister at a young age. She did not mention any parents, and Heart Felt didn’t ask. In return, Moon Sugar asked questions about Heart’s life in Ponyville, and she heard herself opening up to them over time, until she was talking about the particular Hearths’ Warming Eve where Rhubarb Crumble had made a pie so massive, she put up fliers around town inviting ponies to come and eat some of it. Upon Moon’s request, Heart went to fetch the quilt, and they both looked over it with approval, admiring the different patterns with it laid across the counter between them.
“You love your work very much,” Moon Sugar said, and Heart Felt found herself smiling in reply.
Eventually, the little plush lion was restored to near-new condition, with both his eyes firmly resewed and his arm completely repaired. Heart asked if Moon’s little sister would like a bow around his neck, and Moon picked out a sparkly purple ribbon, her face lighting up with the anticipation of presenting it to her sister. “She’ll love it,” she assured the seamstress. Several bit coins were fetched from the black cloak on the hook and placed on the counter, and Heart wrote up a receipt on a piece of parchment, before looking out the window. The rain came down just as hard as it ever had, lightning dancing across the inky sky.
“Oh dear…..” she fretted. Moon Sugar shook her head.
“It can’t be helped. I’ve imposed upon you far too long already.” She tucked the lion into her cloak, but as she reached to unhook it, Heart’s mouth opened without her permission.
“Would you like tea?”
Moon Sugar lowered her hooves back to the floor, her gold eyes glowing dimly in the shadows.
“Tea would be lovely, thank you.”
Heart escaped to the kitchen before Moon could see her smile. Their conversation had been so pleasant, so easy. It had been a long time since she’d been so comfortable talking to a stranger. She supposed it had something to do with how relaxed Moon seemed; it was contagious. While the teapot boiled, Heart climbed her bedroom ladder with a towel clenched in her mouth, and mopped up the rain puddle on the floor. After checking the shutters were still firmly latched against the howling wind, she carefully climbed back down, leaving the wet towel in her bathroom laundry basket and washing her hooves in the basin. The kettle’s whistle called her back to her kitchen, and soon she was carrying two cups of jasmine tea back into the shop front on a small tray. Moon Sugar accepted her cup gratefully. “The tea in Canterlot is not much to my liking,” she admitted, inhaling the aroma deeply. “You can’t find simple kinds like this. They are the best.” She took a delicate sip of the still-steaming drink, and the seamstress was surprised to find it didn’t burn her tongue. She decided it would be rude to inquire, however, and moved on.
“It….it sounds as though Canterlot could do with a little simplicity every now and then,” she dared, casting her eyes once again downward, into her own cup. Moon Sugar laughed.
“Simplicity! In Canterlot! They’d sooner outlaw banquets and feather boas!”
This time, Heart Felt laughed along with her guest. She decided she liked how Moon’s fangs showed when she laughed, the way her ears tilted back slightly. Her eye shadow had just the slightest amount of glitter in it, to match the subtle sparkles in her mane. She really is quite pretty, Heart thought, once you get over the initial shock. She self-consciously patted at her own mane, hoping the wind hadn’t completely ruined it.
They sipped their tea together, swapping stories, until their cups were empty and the rain had quieted to a gentle shhhhh across the grass. Moon Sugar looked at the clock above the counter. “I should get going, she said, gently placing her empty teacup back on the tray. “I have an early train back to Canterlot in the morning.” Heart set the tray to the side, skirting around the counter to help Moon with her cloak.
“Th-thank you. For choosing my store for your business,” she stuttered, blushing.
Moon just grinned. “Of course.”
With the door held open and her cloak fastened around her neck once again, Moon stepped outside into the wet night. As she started off into the darkness, Heart steeled her courage, willing her mouth to cooperate. “Will you come by again?”
Moon turned and looked back, fangs flashing in the streetlight as she grinned. Heart Felt’s heart did a little flip in her chest.
“If you make the tea.”
