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The weather holds a special place in Equestrian culture as one of the many symbols of pegasus pride, as well as being a useful tool to Equestria in both times of peace and otherwise. For many years pegasi, and by extension, Equestrians, have been manipulating the weather through the use of magic so as to provide farmers with unfailing harvests, prevent droughts, and to even cause floods in areas where regular flooding is required to sustain the ecosystem. Indeed, there are very few ponies who would be willing to argue as to the sheer utility of weather manipulation, and those that would are likely either extreme naturalists, or otherwise not of the inclusively-inclined ilk, in regards to pegasi and other, more wingless and hornless races of pony.

That being said, nobody ever said that the weater system in place in Equestria today is perfect. Indeed, it is actually quite antiquited, having been largely unaltered on the organizational level since the original Pegasusanid Empire first created it thousands of years before the Unification, and as part of the Unification Qualification Specifications, will remain so until such a time where the current model would be rendered unsustainable. This, naturally, never came to pass, and with exception of a few additions of technology to make the production of weather easier, the system of weather delivery and implementation continues to be done by hoof, as per the stipulations made so many generations ago.

The main problem, however, is not how terribly inefficient the current weather system is, but rather the frequent scheduling conflicts between county weather comissions, and city governments. Often times, many non-pegasus citizens will have made plans on the days that just so happen to have had rain already scheduled on top of them, and that's not mentioning the many local parades that these plans are made around. This is, after all, where the saying, "I'd hate to rain on your parade, but... ", omes from, as actual physical ponies often actually physically rain on actual physical parades after actually physically saying those words. Of course, there are also ponies who simply do not check the county rain schedule for days on which they make plans, and end up being made stuck in whatever household they just so happen to been at the time.

There are also, of course, those who simply do not think to check, in their hurried worry to not be late to their regal duties in other parts of the country, and end up stranded due to rain slicking the train tracks leading to Ponyville. Naturally, Twilight Sparkle did not mean to get herself stuck in Canterlot over the weekend, but she had somehow overslept due to regal studies the day before, and thus, had opted to get to Canterlot as quickly as it was physically possible to do, and had, of course, forgotten to check the rain schedule. After all, if she had known she would be gone over the weekend, she wouldn't have left Spike to take care of the castle with Starlight Glimmer's small kingdom of misfits and jollyranchers.

It's not that Twilight doesn't trust them, of course, Celestia literally knows that sometimes Spike is more reasonable than either Starlight or herself put together, it's just that she doesn't feel entirely comfortable with having castle and home being watched over by her student and her dragon. She knows both of them have made great progress, Starlight in shedding her former villianess skin, and Spike in adopting true pony civility, but every now and again, when Twilight sits alone in her room in the dead of night, with nothing but the lamp on the ceiling and the soft breeze outside to keep her company, some sort of doubt creeps up on her.

Twilight watches a baby moth, smaller than the tip of her ear and quieter than the lightest feather, slowly rise towards the ceiling lamp whilst flying in a circular motion; eventually, the moth will hit the ceiling lamp, and fall back down again, only for the cycle to repeat endlessly in the middle of her Canterlot tower room. She can't help but see Starlight and Spike in the baby moth, trying desperately to reach the light, before plummeting, physically incapable of reaching it. Twilight knows that it isn't good for her to think that way, of course, but knowing something, and feeling something, are two very different things, and with rain clouds over the lower ends of the mountain, she can't help the way she feels.

As she ponders the parable of the Little Moth, it finds a little nook inside the lamp, where many years ago a weary maid had unknowingly chipped the glass, and it crawls inside, finally reaching its light. Twilight doesn't see this, and she assumes that the baby moth went elsewhere, presumably into the hallway, to find its much coveted light. She turns over and looks out the window, and she, naturally, closes her eyes, as most ponies who intend to sleep would, and attempts to banish the little moth from her mind as she drifts off into slumberlands unknown.

Very far away, in a little town known as Ponyville, a young dragon named Spike curls up in his doggy-bed. He had spent most of his day rained in, playing games with Starlight and Owlowicious, and was, of course, quite tired. After all, with the lack of his mother figure the past day and a half, as well as a severe case of the nothing-to-dos, most ponies would be tired. Of course, Spike is also still biologically a baby, and thus, would naturally need more sleep than the average pony, but this just means that, obviously, Spike is very tired.

His eyes train on the window wich would normally be facing Canterlot. He had had his fun with Starlight the last two days, but now he can't wait for Twilight to come home to give him something to do, and to give him gems and gem-flavoured food items for no meal of the day in particular. Spike closes his eyes and smiles, thinking of his not-mother not-sister.