My name is Carrot Top, but you probably knew that already if you're reading this. I've lived on a small farm in the outskirts of Ponyville for all my life. I've never lived anywhere else. I take the occasional trip here and there, but the farm is where I belong. I belong in my garden - planting and growing my carrots. Even if they don't sell for much, it's my way of life. I'm perfectly content with living this way; in fact, I couldn't ask for anything more. The silence at night and the chirping of the birds during the day keep my sanity intact, while the mare I live with puts it to the test.
Every single day ends with me either laughing like a madmare or trying to suppress a headache, each caused by another one of her mishaps. Despite all that, she's a good friend. Derpy's clumsy, yet she's able to take on a burden most others would fail at: parenting. Ever since I first met her out on the outer edge of my garden - battered, shivering, and miserable - she had a young filly by her side. Dinky. Thinking back... I'm pretty sure she was just a tiny, healthy foal underneath Derpy's chest. That Derpy was always a protector. Heck, she still is even now. Anyway, I took her in and helped nurse the mare back to health the best I could (all the while keeping a watchful eye on the young filly, of course), and within a week she was up, about, and acting silly all around my house. I can't tell you how many times she raided the muffins from my fridge that weekend. I guess some things don't change.
From what I can tell, they're both silly in their own little ways, and the father left them pretty early on - or at least that's what Derpy has said. She doesn't even seem fazed by it; I guess she doesn't remember how we met anymore. But that's fine. She's a good friend. I dream about the fun times we have (well, all the fun you can have on a small carrot farm anyway). When we're lucky, it's a shared dream. Those are the best. We fool around; I grow a pair of wings; we fly around, neither of us knowing how to get it right. It's the same, perfect routine every time. Life is pretty good here.
* * *
My eyelids flutter open as the sunshine warmly greets them. Another day of hard work and foal-sitting is ahead. I can hear somepony calling to me from the other side of the bedroom. "Good morning, Cara!" It was Derpy alright. She's the only one that calls me Cara; it's become a sort of nickname by now. It's a mutual feeling of friendship, though. I mean... I don't find it annoying. It's actually a pretty good nickname if you ask me.
I do as I normally do: get up, make the bed, fix breakfast, brush my teeth (I can't tell you just how much I wish I had magic or wings to hold the stupid brush.), and go outside to the farm while Dinky trots off to school. As usual, Derpy gets ready to closely follow exact instructions. Other ponies also seem perplexed when she doesn't mess anything up, but I guess it was just all a matter of the right communication to make her like that. That being said, she still manages to screw up occasionally, like the time she planted muffins and I got a bunch of blueberry plants. I can't blame her for that one; it helped me rake in some extra money to help take her to the Gala last year. I've let her grow 'em ever since.
Today feels different somehow. Is it the air, maybe? No... I feel different somehow. I can't stop thinking about the past and everything I've done to get where I am. Everything Derpy, Dinky and I have done as a... I guess "family" is the only right word. A quirky, friendly family of misfits. I look to my side and see Derpy's silly smile and her flowing mane.
She's a good friend.
As the day progresses, I can feel the memories coming at me harder and faster. I remember the time she ate my daisies, not knowing they weren't for eating. I can remember the time she took care of me when I was sick, muffin basket after muffin basket. I can still see her playing card games with her daughter and me. She doesn't quite grasp the rules, but she's having fun.
She's a very good friend.
I wipe the sweat from my brow as I pluck the hundredth grown carrot from the ground. I trudge across the dirt ground of my garden and peek out over the blueberry bushes. There she is, looking in the opposite direction of me and picking blueberries. Every few she picks, one is tossed into her mouth, and juice sprays from the delicate berry to the inside and outside of her mouth. She loves being here, and I love her being here.
Maybe I just love her.
I jump over the bush and tap her on the back. This startles her, and she quickly spins around. Blueberry juice from her mouth falls on my face, and I can't help but laugh.
"Still quite the messy eater," I giggle. There's juice on her muzzle. I wipe that off. Blush shows up on her cheeks.
I giggle at that, too.
She quickly smiles and wipes the fruit juice from my own face before licking it up. I turn and point to the sun. It's something we've gotten good at: communicating without words. I tend to point at the sun when it's about to set, and now is no different. When this happens, we always go through the same routine. Dinky comes home; we head to a nearby hill; we sit together, and we watch as it sets. I hear a yell of glee from somewhere behind me. "Mommy, mommy!" it shouts with glee.
I turn around to face the little unicorn filly. The sun shines against her periwinkle coat just as it does for her mother and me. I can remember all the fun times I had with this foal too: chasing moles, watering the crops, helping each other during the big harvests... I could go on and on. She's a good kid.
Without saying another word, the two of them hug each other as they always do. I seem to love watching it more and more every time, though it often makes me feel envious of their bond. However, today... I do not feel that. I feel nothing but happiness, nay, giddiness - and yet I don't know why. I take hold of their hooves as soon as they finish their embrace, facing the direction of the hilltop immediately afterwards.
We trot up there together, Dinky, as usual, breaks away from my hold on her hoof and gallops to the top. With only Derpy by my side, I'd normally quickly reflect with her on all the hard work that was accomplished throughout the day. Often times, it is very much the same: carrot count, blueberry count, and congratulations on a job well done. Perhaps there is a quick sentimental moment here and there, where I comment on how nice she looks in the sunset - same as her daughter - but it's mostly business talk. Right now, though, I can feel a higher tension. Nothing big, nothing fancy: just a tension. I draw a sharp breath and slowly exhale. This makes Derpy turn to me with a concerned look in her crossed eyes. I reassure by saying the air just feels odd.
But it doesn't.
It doesn't, and I know it. No, the tension is coming from me. From somewhere inside. "If I let go of her hoof now," I think, "it'll be gone. It's that easy." Instead, my grip tightens, though not hard enough to make her feel uncomfortable. She notices and asks if I'm sure. We stop somewhere near the top of the hill as my hoof leaves her own. Of all days, it is today that all the great memories come back and hit me all at once.
"Derpy," I start, "I just wanted to say how great it is having you here. Even if it wasn't intentional that this is where you ended up, I don't thank you enough for it. I can't thank you enough for it. All I ever wanted was somepony to share my life with. You gave that to me. I think..."
I love her. Just say it, Cara... it's not hard.
"Are you trying to say you love me?" she asks after my sentence never ends. I gather my wits before hesitantly nodding. Derpy, though clearly surprised by the news, gives me a smile wider than I've ever seen before. She reaches out one of her front hooves and hugs me with it. The warmth that comes with her gentle embrace practically puts stars in my eyes. I do the same to her in return. She seems comfortable with this. That's a good sign, right? She leans her head next to my ear. Her voice rises steadily. "I've loved you for a long time too; I was just worried you might not feel the same way! All the caring you've done for Dinky and me has brought you so close to my heart, Cara. I'm so happy you feel the way you do. ...What took you so long?"
I'm taken aback mentally by her question. She must have had feelings for me far before I had the same for her, yet she'd never say anything about it... just as I never did until now. But instead of pulling away from her tender touch, weakly shrugging the question off, or muttering a white lie, I just smile and tell the truth. "I guess it just wasn't there before. It wasn't clear."
This makes her bring her head back to meet the level of mine - her hoof still resting gently around my neck. The shadow of the hill covering us lets me see the beauty in those eyes, however crossed they may be. They seem to twinkle, even if only slightly. I lean forward, putting a hoof under her chin and smiling like an idiot. Shaking, not being able to stand still, my lips gravitate close to hers: six inches away. Five. Four. Three... and - as if asking for consent, I stare deeper into her eyes, now almost trembling being so close to her. She nods as her eyes stay locked onto mine. I lean the short distance, never for a moment breaking eye contact. The unthinkable has happened; I'm kissing Derpy! And she's kissing me back! I suddenly feel like I'm in a dream and as if I will awake at any given moment. But you know what? I don't. I don't because this is a dream come true. And as her lips retract as quickly as they came, I linger on the feeling. Again, I feel her taking hold of my hoof. "Let's go watch the sunset!"
I can't help but chuckle. She's so silly and random.
At the top of the hill, Dinky is already shaking with glee as the glimmering sunset takes place. The shade transitions smoothly from a bright yellow to a powerful shade of crimson. All the while, Derpy never lets go. That's new.
Once the beautiful event comes to a close, I feel something warm on my cheek for a moment or two. When I look, I can see Derpy with her tongue rolled out like a little puppy.
"Hey, mommy!" her daughter shouts, "Why is Cara changing color?" She takes a step forward, which I can see from my peripheral vision, and tilts her head to one side. "And why are your wings and tongue out?"
I giggle again. She may be derpy, but she and her daughter are just my kind of derpy.
"You'll understand when you're older," we reply quietly in unison, neither one of us taking our eyes off each other for a second. The night has set in; I can now see our manes illuminating brightly in the twilight.
I'm beyond just a garden now. I've found a family.
