Eyes wide, Honeysuckle looked up at her mother with rapturous adoration for a brief moment, and then she began rubbing her cheek against her mother’s leg. She stayed close to her mama in the market, because the market was dangerous for little foals. She could be stepped on, or kicked, or ran over, or even worse, separated. Separation was bad.
Today in the market, she was wearing her pegasus costume, because she liked being a pegasus. Being a pegasus was super-fun, and she could fly, when her mother allowed it. She wasn’t allowed to fly indoors, or in crowded places, and she certainly wasn’t allowed to fly inside of Princess Twilight Sparkle’s castle, no matter how big the rooms might be. Nope, that just wasn’t allowed.
She hoped that maybe, she might get a chance to fly today, perhaps in the park.
Picking her costume for the day was tricky business, because of the rules. Once in a costume, she had to keep it on all day, and she wasn’t supposed to change it. Especially not in public. If she changed her costume in public, some ponies might get upset. Upset ponies were bad, and sometimes upset ponies said mean things that Honeysuckle didn’t like. Even worse, it made her mama angry and she didn’t like seeing her mama angry, because angry mama was scary mama.
“Honeysuckle, who should we buy apples from?”
Lifting her head while she walked alongside her mother, Honeysuckle looked around for the answer. It only took a moment, and then the foal replied, “Applejack!”
“Very good.”
Applejack was a good pony and she was always nice. Honeysuckle followed her mother over to the big wagon that Applejack sold goods from and she let out a little gasp as she looked at all of those sweet, succulent, juicy, sugary apples. Honeysuckle needed a lot of sugar to stay healthy.
Well, sugar and love.
“Well hello there, Rocky Blossom,” Applejack said as they drew nearer. “And Honeysuckle too… why, you’re a pretty little pegasus today. Hoping for a bit of a fly in the park?”
Hearing her mother chuckle, Honeysuckle nodded.
“Whatcha needin’ Hon?”
“One dozen apples.” Honeysuckle looked up at the kind orange earth pony mare while she answered, and then overcome with warm fuzzies, she latched on to Applejack’s leg in a fierce hug, which was returned. She rubbed her face against the hard-muscled flesh, and let out a sigh of contentment.
“Now, tell me, how many apples is in a dozen?”
Honeysuckle was not prepared for this. Still squeezing Applejack’s leg, she froze and tried to think of the ever-so-elusive answer. She was good at counting to four, because she had four legs. She blinked a few times, and concentrated so hard that a flicker of green magic rippled around her body, flashing for a brief second.
Rocky Blossom let out a faint, worried whinny.
“Now, don’t get worked up,” Applejack said to the earth pony mare beside her. “It was just a little slip, ain’t nothing to fret over.” With a reassuring smile, she looked down at the foal holding her leg. “Sugarcube, a dozen is twelve. Try to remember that, okay?”
“Okay!” Honeysuckle replied as her mother began to dig around inside of her saddlebags for the bits that were needed. “Twelve. A dozen is twelve. Twelve apples.”
“Ya got it.” As these words were spoken by Applejack, Honeysuckle began to pronk around and flap her wings, and the orange earth pony mare looked over at Rocky Blossom. “You know, every day, she gets a little cuter.”
“It’s very kind of you to say that,” Rocky Blossom replied.
“It’s been a tough row to hoe, I know that.” Applejack reached up and pushed back her hat, causing some of her mane to come spilling down. “I think it’s good of you to do what you did, on account of how much trouble there’s been, well, between… us… and... them. Only, there ain’t s'posed to be no us and them no more.”
“I wish somepony would make that clear to certain ponies,” Rocky Blossom said to Applejack in a low voice.
“Look, Rocky, anything worth doing, it ain’t gonna be done easy. You and I, we’re earth ponies, and I think we understand this more than most.” Applejack waited for a moment and was rewarded with a nod of acknowledgment. “This is a new frontier, Rocky… a whole new frontier that ain’t been explored much. We earth ponies, we have to be the first ones to go forward… we gotta break new ground… we gotta do the hard work and sort out all of the snarls so that the soft ones can follow after us and feel like they done accomplished something.”
There was a nervous, half-hearted giggle from Rocky Blossom, and she nodded, agreeing.
“I know it’s been hard, but you’re doing the work of the alicorns,” Applejack continued.
Turning about, Applejack began fetching apples from her wagon and putting them in a pile. She pulled thirteen in total, took the bits from Rocky Blossom, and then began loading the apples into Rocky’s saddlebags while keeping an eye on Honeysuckle, who was still pronking around while flapping her wings.
Closing the flap on Rocky’s saddlebag, Applejack remarked “I wonder what she’ll choose to be tomorrow...”
“Mama, why can’t I wear an alicorn costume?” Honeysuckle asked as she walked beside her mother, mindful of her mother’s larger than average hooves and how close she trotted. She didn’t want to be a flapjack squished into the dirt.
Rocky Blossom, who was stout even by earth pony standards, did not look down at her daughter when she replied, “Because, it gives ponies fits when you do that. It’s easier for them to accept you when you are an earth pony, a pegasus, or a unicorn.”
“Why?” the foal asked.
“It just is.” Rocky Blossom let out a weary sigh and she peered ahead with a half-lidded, almost sleepy looking stare.
“But why—”
“No more why.”
Huffing, her lower lip protruding, Honeysuckle didn’t give up. If she couldn’t ask why, then she was just going to have to keep asking questions. Other questions. “Can I be a griffon? I tried it in the mirror.”
“We’ll see… do you think you can hold it all day?” This time, Rocky did look down at the foal trotting along beside her right front hoof.
“I dunno.” Honeysuckle shrugged with her wings while she walked. “Can I be a diamond dog?”
“It would be better if you didn’t,” Rocky Blossom replied. “Those still scare ponies quite a bit. Startled ponies aren’t friendly ponies. Remember that, Honeysuckle. Fear makes ponies stupid. Remember the rules.”
“I know the rules—”
“And what is the most important rule?” Rocky Blossom asked.
“Never take sweets or food from strangers,” Honeysuckle replied while her face sagged with sadness.
“And why is that, sweetie?”
“Because a stranger might give me something with bumble jelly and that’ll make me bad.” The foal didn’t fully understand the danger, but she knew that her mother and father both lived in total fear of it happening. If she ate bumble jelly, even just a little tiny bit, she wouldn’t be Honeysuckle anymore—she’d become something else, something not nice.
It was scary knowing that you could become a monster. Super-scary. And there were a lot of not-nice ponies out there, along with other not-nice things too. There was lots of scary stuff out there, but that was okay, because she had her Mama and her Daddy. Thinking of her father, she felt just a little bit grumpy, and couldn’t wait for him to be home. She hated that his work took him away.
At least Mama stayed at home with her.
The park was a huge place, a magnificent place, a wonderful place. There was a play fountain here, with water jets that would squirt you when you least expected it, there was a slide, a merry-go-round that had to be pushed, a see-saw, and other fun stuff to play with, like tether-balls. In the middle of the park were two statues, one of Princess Twilight Sparkle, and the other was Spike the Dragon.
Princess Twilight had reared up into a heroic pose, with her wings spread, and Spike looked as though he was going to breathe fire at any moment. He wasn’t big, but Spike the Dragon was known to be ferocious, and he could become quite big if a growth spell of some sort was cast upon him.
Honeysuckle liked him a great deal, so much so that she had tried being a dragon in the mirror. It was difficult, but not impossible. Her mother halted at a park bench, shimmied off her saddlebags, and sat down with a weary huff that made her cheeks bulge. Honeysuckle felt that her mother made the funniest of funny faces, especially when she was tired or worn out and she went cross eyed. Daddy liked to talk about all of Mama’s funny faces, and he would tease her. Sometimes, he promised to make Mama make funny faces, later, when they were alone and Honeysuckle had been put to bed.
That was always good for a laugh.
“Okay, Honeysuckle, go and play. Don’t go too far, and if there is trouble, you know what to do, right?” Rocky looked down at her daughter with a weary, maternal gaze that was a mix of equal parts exhaustion and affection.
“I come running back here to the bench or call for help.” Ears pinning back, she gave her mother a hopeful look. “Can I try flying later? Not right now, but later?”
“Yes, later,” Rocky Blossom breathed. “I’ll chase you around the park later and you can crash into everything your heart desires.”
“Yay!” And then, with a crazy, exuberant grin, Honeysuckle scampered off.
The goldfish pond was shaped like a big kidney bean and Honeysuckle loved watching the fish as they swam about. She liked swimming, because she couldn’t sink, she floated. If the bathtub was filled up with enough water, she could float there too, not that she needed a bathtub to get clean. Honeysuckle had her own means of grooming, which she was still figuring out how to make work.
Sometimes, when she tried to groom herself, she burned holes through the floor. Whoops!
The fish in the pond were active today, some of them even jumping up and leaping out of the water, which made Honeysuckle want to clap her hooves together. Some days she did, some days she didn’t. There were bees flying around the lilies and flowers, busy little bees that Honeysuckle liked to watch as they did their bee errands.
She never had to worry about being stung by bees like other ponies did.
There were other bugs around the pond, and swimming bugs in the pond, but those were eaten by the fish if they came out into the open. There were caterpillars, beetles, and ants aplenty. Honeysuckle liked ants, they were neat, orderly, and worked together to face their problems, sort of like earth ponies.
“Hey, I know you!”
The voice made Honeysuckle lift her head and she looked around, not liking how the voice sounded, or the sudden rush of unpleasant emotions that came with it. Hatred stung, perhaps like bee stings, but she wouldn’t know. A large colt was approaching with two smaller colts in tow. Sighing, the filly realised it was time to return to her mother before trouble started.
“My mother says you’re a dirty bug!” the colt cried.
The hatred that came with the words made them sting like nothing else, and Honeysuckle let out a pained whimper as her insides cramped. No matter how many times this happened, she never quite became used to it, and it never became any easier to deal with.
“I lost an uncle because of you and your kind! You’re a dirty, horrible bug!”
The colt was approaching and his hatred was so strong that it left Honeysuckle dizzy. She almost fell over, right into the pond, and her terrible tummy-ache grew even worse with each passing second. The hatred radiated from the colt in waves, and for Honeysuckle, they were like a physical force, striking her.
“Why are you even here? Nopony wants your kind around!”
“Hey! Why don’t you pick on somepony your own size!”
Something large plopped down in front of Honeysuckle and she was so startled that this time, she did fall into the pond, or would have, if somepony hadn’t grabbed her. She felt the warm tingle of magic all around her, lifting her, and setting her back down upon her dainty little hoofsies.
“I pity the foal that picks on other foals!”
Honeysuckle got a good look at her rescuer and was terrified. A big catlike creature with enormous bat-like wings stood before her. She was all claws, fur, and muscle, plus, she was huge. The three colts, now faced with a credible threat, skedaddled, running away as fast as they could go, and Honeysuckle could feel their fear, which was terrible, bitter, and unpleasant.
The big winged cat turned about and Honeysuckle looked upon the face of her rescuer. Cat-pony? She was big, chocolate brown, had a ferocious underbite, two big tusks, and a ruddy red mohawk-mane. The bat-like wings folded against her sides and the big kitty-pony cast a final glance over her shoulder at the three fleeing bullies.
“Hey, you alright?” The big chocolate brown kitty-pony smiled, and it was horrible indeed. “My name is Megara. I don’t mean to scare you if I do.”
After a few gulps and a number of swallows, Honeysuckle recovered her voice. “Thank you.”
Sitting down, Megara reached out with her paw, her long, bladed, curved claws retracted, and booped Honeysuckle right on her hard, chitinous nose. “You know, you might want to put your disguise back on.”
Embarrassed, the filly realised that she was naked and she looked down at her gleaming, plated, matte black body. Oh, this was bad. She began to focus, knowing that she needed to get her costume back on before—
“Honeysuckle!”
Once again, her rescuer moved to save her, and moved to stand between her and her mother. Lifting her head, Honeysuckle heard Megara say, “Hey, it’s okay, everything's okay. I just had to chase away a few bullies and she got scared. I think I scared her more than the bullies did.”
“I saw everything that happened.” Rocky Blossom just stood there, wide-eyed, staring at Megara. “I know you… well, I know your father and your mother. Thank you, for what you did.”
“These two are Sly and Alto.” Megara gestured at two colts, the first a unicorn and the second a pegasus. “They’re my brothers. I’m foalsitting. Sly Pie, Alto Clef, say hello to…”
“My name is Rocky Blossom,” the earth pony mare said as she introduced herself. “My filly’s name is Honeysuckle.”
With her costume back in place, Honeysuckle waved with her hoof and smiled.
“Hi,” said Sly, sounding a bit shy. “I kept you from falling into the pond.”
“Thank you.” Honeysuckle gave the colt a warm smile, which was something she couldn’t do without her costume. She also gave him a wave, and then looked over at the pegasus colt, who remained some distance away. Lifting her hoof, she gave him a wave too.
“Alto is kinda shy.” Megara made a gesture for the shy little colt to come forward with her paw, and after some hesitation, Alto darted over to be with her, his wings flapping. “He gets bullied too, because he stutters.” Wrapping her foreleg around the much, much smaller pegasus colt, Megara stuck out her rough, sandpapery tongue and gave him an affectionate lick, causing him to groan in disgust.
It took a few minutes, but Honeysuckle realised that Alto and Sly were about her age, or at least, they were about her size. They seemed friendly enough, and when she looked at her mother, she felt something… something powerful and good. Discerning emotions was still tricky business, but Honeysuckle was able to figure it out. Hope.
Her mother, Rocky Blossom, was hopeful.
“You know, I could look after your foal too,” Megara offered. “Sly is an obnoxious spaz—”
“Am not!”
“—and Alto’s stuttering problem makes it difficult for him to make friends.” A shrewd look appeared on Megara’s face. “And you look like Octavia looks when she’s stuck watching both of them all day with no help.”
“She’s just so full of energy,” Rocky Blossom blurted out as her tail swished to and fro. “We’ve been running errands all day and she’s not even tired. The love all around her keeps her energised.”
Honeysuckle plopped her behind down near the edge of the pond, then looked over at Sly, who had plucked out a dandelion and was checking it out. Alto was clinging to Megara, and he seemed a bit shaken by everything that had just happened. The little filly, a pegasus once more, basked in the love that the two brothers and their sister shared. It was like drinking medicine for a tummy ache and it made the hurt inside of her go away.
“It was really kind of you to do what you did.” Rocky Blossom smiled at Megara, and then she sat down in the grass. “I’d like for Honeysuckle to have friends, but nopony wants to arrange playdates with her, and I’m not allowed to leave her in a nursery.”
Glancing over at Sly once more, Honeysuckle saw the stem of the dandelion sticking out from between his lips. The colt had a streak of bright, vivid pink in his pale, cream coloured mane. Try as she might, she found her attention drawn to that pink streak, and it made it very difficult to look the colt in the eye. A second dandelion was plucked, then eaten, which made Honeysuckle giggle.
“It’s been really rough,” Rocky said in a low, strained voice, and the first signs of deep emotion began to show on her face. “We moved here to Ponyville because this was supposed to be such a tolerant city. There were problems in Fillydelphia, big problems, but there were others like her there. We came here to get away from the big city and all of its problems and we…” Her words died on her lips and she shook her head.
Alto, no longer content to cling to Megara’s leg, clambered up his much larger sister, his stubby wings flapping, then settled on her back, between her wings, and he rested his fine, tiny chin upon her head. Sly had scooted a little closer to Honeysuckle and continued to eat the greenery. Looking at her mama, Honeysuckle could feel her sadness.
“Ponyville, the most tolerant city in Equestria, and she is the only one of her kind here,” Rocky said, huffing out the words while shaking one hoof in frustration. “I understand… I get it… I really do. I know some really bad things happened. But Honeysuckle didn’t do any of those bad things. She’s a good little foal whose only fault is that she is a bit gluttonous with sweets, but she can’t help that.”
“Well, Ponyville is supposed to be this great, tolerant city, and for the most part, it is. But being a manticore spawn is rough. Ponies seem to think I’m going to eat their foals. My father and my mothers are probably going to get a visit from the parents of those bullies, and they’re going to hear all about how I tried to gobble up those three little brats, and at some point, somepony is gonna lose their temper. Ponyville is a lot of things, but it ain’t perfect.”
“No,” Rocky replied, “I suppose it isn’t.”
“Ponyville has lots of love though.” Honeysuckle turned to look at Sly once more, and let out a startled squeak when she discovered that he was right beside her. There was a crazy-looking gleam in his eye, and the filly pulled her head back, away from the colt.
“You really wouldn’t mind looking after Honeysuckle?” Rocky asked, a faint, hesitant hitch in her words. “I can’t find anypony who is willing to do that. I had to quit working and now we can barely afford the house payments.”
“I don’t mind helping once in awhile.” Megara smiled, revealing a smile like a bear trap. With tusks. “But I do have school and every now and then, I’ve got to save Ponyville from things like mud monsters or giant killer parasprites.”
Blinking a few times, Rocky Blossom smiled. “I would really appreciate it.”
With alarming suddenness, Sly reached out, tapped Honeysuckle on the snoot, and cried, “You’re it!” He then took off at a swift gallop, his pink streaked forelock bouncing above his face while he laughed like a loon.
Honeysuckle just sat there, having never experienced anything quite like this before. She looked at her mother, her wide, shimmering eyes questioning this moment and wondering what to do next. After a few seconds, Honeysuckle heard her mother say, “Don’t just sit there, silly, go after him! You have to touch him to make him ‘it’ again. Go on, get running!”
Wings flapping, Honeysuckle took off at a run after Sly, knowing nothing about the rules to this strange, new game. Megara bolted away with Alto clinging to her neck; the little pegasus colt let out a wordless cry of panic while he bounced up and down on his sister’s back. After a few minutes of hesitation, Rocky Blossom joined the impromptu game of tag, the first game her filly had ever played with foals her own age, and she let out a happy laugh, relieved her daughter had found some friends.
Such was life in Ponyville.
Author's Note
This just sorta happened. It didn't have the usual level of planning most of my stories have. I just don't know what went wrong.
