I fly gently over the land. Once when I was but a hatchling the shape of the land ,as it gently roles, would have filled me with wonder. Now I can make this flight with my eyes shut. Well I could make it with my eyes shut but sometimes the winged fuzzies will bump into me sending me tumbling from the sky. Of course, at other times it seems the wing ones are nonexistent, flying so low even my eyes can hardly see them.
I always have direction for my flight though. Usually I fly to my favourite place. This place is home to many differn't fuzzies. It is made up of many huge nests. Fuzzies always take up a lot of space. Their nests can fit at least ten fuzzies in them. I enjoy watching the hustle and bustle of life here. It relaxes me.
As I near my destination I slow my speed and gently begin to descend. I have to be careful not to hit any winged fuzzies or their nests in the sky. That's the funny thing about fuzzies they are so clever but clunky at the same time. It is truly a thing to marvel at.
I enter within hearing range of the town. The language is very strange and there are but few words I know. I hear that fuzzies call themselves "ponies." This always confused me. Everyone knows that they are called fuzzies. Fuzzies are weird; I don't understand them at times.
They also say that Earth is call "equestria" or something equally odd. This is why I love fuzzie culture. They make everything so complicated. They are so much more interesting than the bear or butterfly. I believe I once started up a conversation with a bear before. They speak very little but usually try to be helpful. Alas bears are not the smartest of creatures.
I swoop down towards the nests and my favourite fuzzies. I gently touch down on a small wooden pole. I use the excuse of preening to watch the town. Right beneath my pole there is 3 fuzzlets. They are looking angrily at something behind me. I follow their wide gazes and see a round thing on the roof. I believe fuzzies use this devise to distract their fuzzlets. Oh what is it called?! ... Oh yes! A ball! That's what it is called! A mischievous twinkle enters my eye. Oh this could be fun...
I turn towards the "ball" and take off. The three fuzzlets turn their glares to me. I lean over and slowly and g nth pick up the ball in my beak. The fuzzlets start to yell at me in their complicated language. I flew low over the nests and slow enough, so the three fuzzlets could chase me. "CUTIE MARK CRUSADER BIRD CATCHERS!"
While they were chasing me I felt exhilaration like never before. I could hear that ,behind me, the three fuzzlets were breathing heavily and panting. I turned to look at them before crashing into a yellow thing. I fell to the ground, the ball coming out of my beak. Ruffled and embarrassed I lay on the floor and looked up to see what I had hit. Standing there was a yellow and pink winged fuzzie. It stared at me with a sympathetic look on its face. Unbeknownst to the yellow one I had seen it before. It often looked after the animals and she hung out with the marshmallow fuzzie.
The yellow fuzzie started speaking to the three fuzzlets. The way it was talking reminded me of when my hatcher told me off when I was a hatchling. I tilted my head and sat watching. Mabey the yellow fuzzie was the fuzzlets mother?
My eyes drank in every detail about the scene. The fuzzlets looked slightly abashed. Their cheeks were red and the were breathing hard. Sometimes they would interupt the yellow one only to be shot down. The yellow fuzzies cheeks were also red and as it was speaking it's chirpy voice got deeper and louder and it started staring at the fuzzlets and they backed down. I realised that, unlike in my hatching nest, when fuzzlets were being told of other fuzzies didn't care.
Then the yellow one abruptly stopped its rant and turned towards me its eyes full of sympathy. The fuzzlets behind it could tell they were dismissed. They grabbed there ball and scampered of. The winged yellow one murmured softly to me and subsequently dragged my attention back to it. Even though I had been warned of fuzzies the yellow one gave of warm cuddly safe vibes. I snuggled into its soft yellow chest before realising what I was doing. I shook myself. I am a swift, the most agile and strongest of all bird in Earth. Regretfully I turned away from the yellow and took of, chirping at it for thanks.
In the sky I scoured over the nests looking for the marshmallow or Cotten candy fuzzie for I usually found those two most interesting. Though I looked hard, I could not find the marshmallow or cotton candy. It was only when I gave up on my search I realised how much my wings were aching. They aren't used to flying far. I don't use my wings as much as other swifts. I tumbled onto the ground. I swiveled my head around. My eyes caught on a green horned fuzzie sitting next to a cream fuzzie. What interested me about the green fuzzie was the way it was sitting. Instead of sitting like a normal fuzzie, it sat with her hind leave hanging down and the rest of its body sitting on the bench. I pondered to a moment. What would cause a fuzzie to sit like that? Mabey the green fuzzie had a problem with her legs but if so why would every fuzzie who walked past year it like the most normal thing in the Earth.
So caught up in my thought I didn't realise the three fuzzlets from earlier standing their. They looked sheepish their faces red. Out of the three, a yellow and red fuzzlet, gestured at me then the ball then me then to herself. I tilted my head confused, my brain working 1000 flaps a minute trying to decipher the code. Then I realised. They wanted to play ball with me. I felt my heart swelling and, if they could, my cheeks would be reddening. I nodded as quickly as my head would let me and our game began.
I lay breathing heavily. Next to me,in the same state as I, was the three fuzzlets. We all lay next to each other in freindly silence. A group of steps broke the silence. I looked around and saw three fuzzies walking towards us. In the middle was the marshmallow. To its right was a rainbow winged fuzzie and to its left was an orange fuzzie. Each one approached our group and put a fuzzlet on their back. I watched. The orange fuzzie put the yellow fuzzlet on her back. The marshmallow lifted the White fuzzlet ,in a strange blue glow coming from her horn, and the rainbow fuzzie lifted the orange fuzzlet with her wings. I looked closer and realised that the three fuzzlets were asleep.
I wondered why the fuzzlets just let these fuzzies take them away. They just fell asleep on them like they were their nests. I let out a small chirp of confusion. the three fuzzies were walking slowly away from me, probably toward their nests.
Seeing that they were heading home I supposed it was my que to leave. I tried to take of but my exhausted wing wouldn't lift me. I looked around helpless and resined myself to sleeping on the street for tonight. I tried to get comfortable. the ground hurt my poor wings and my legs were on fire. I turned my head as I heard steps near me. I saw the orange fuzzie looking softly at me. It looked at me with a kind expression on its face. Somehow I knew this fuzzie was safe. Gently she lifted me and placed me next to the yellow and red fuzzlet.
Applejack walked through the halls of her barn checking on each room to make sure the pony inside was okay. She did this every night as she was usually the last to go to sleep. Even then she didn't go to sleep late. It would be bad for a farmer to be groggy in the morning.
Finally Applejack reached the last room, the room next to her own. Gently Applejack pushed the door in front of her slightly open. In the dim light from the lamps in the hall it was still quite dark. Applejack had to squint to see clearly. Inside there was her sister sleeping peacefully. Next to her was a tiny bird that was playing with Apple Bloom earlier. Apple Bloom moved in her sleep and groaned. The Bird snuggled into her and a small smile filled Apple Blooms unconscious face. Applejack gave a small laugh and softly closed the door.
"Goodnight Apple Bloom."
