"...and finally, the weather."

Twilight leans towards the radio, bottom scooting off her large royal bed. Her horn flared with it's light and grabbed a quill and pad with notes and plans orderly listed. The next few seconds could throw her entire schedule off, after all, and spearheading the day a full night ahead was basically a necessity.

"Due to a slight drought caused by a minor incident in the main Canterlot Weather Orders, we will be having a thunderstorm across the nation for the next two days. Please remain indoors at all times unless using proper magical procedures..."

"Darn!" Twilight cursed mildly. She crossed out a few lines on her paper. "I hope everyone going to the party knows at least an umbrella charm... Moondancer does, so maybe she can take ponies to her house. I guess I'll have to put that reading session later..." A few more lines were blacked out with ink. She sighed. "I'm already behind on that collection of older fables. Maybe it's a lost cause by this point. Even Celestia said it was just a storybook..."

Suddenly, the door to Twilight's room slams open, bringing in a cold breeze and sounds of whistles and patters. The storm has already started.

"Twilight!?" It was her assistant, Spike. "I'm back from the shop! I got that teddy bear you were talking about!"

_*_*_*_

Knock Knock

"Come in."

creeeeak

"Madam? The downpayment for the Golden Oaks has arrived from the stallion from..." Papers shuffle in the receptionist's hooves. "Manehatten."

"Ah!" The mayor's voice brightens at the name of the library. "It's the full sum, correct?"

"Yes, ma'am. The downpayment and a full mortgage. He seems rather keen on staying there, considering."

"Excellent! Ponyville will be better with the Oaks back in motion - and a new tenent will do it well, too. Is that all, River?"

"Uh... Yes..." More shuffling. "The newer blacksmith in town? He sent over his missing payment that was due...~" Shuffling. "Three months ago."

"Oh-!" The mayor caught her cry halfway. "Er, *ahem*, lovely. I do hate to, well-"

"Evict ponies?"

"Yes, River, thank you."

"I know how you feel about the town, ma'am. That's why I'm excited about the new citizen, and all our newer tenants, and that they can see why as well."

"..."

"..."

"..."

"...Did I over do that a bit?"

"Yes, River, but I apreciate your gunption. In fact, I beleive-" The Mayor stretches in her seat, squeaking it's leather. "-That its the perfect note to end the night on. Have a good evening, dear."

"Right. Goodnight."

Click...

BANG!

Rain riddles down on the roof of the town hall, slowly at first, until it grows into a roar.

_*_*_*_

The night is young, and the rain is already burning cold. A million icy needles thread the back of the trudging stallion to his cloak, making every step agony. One thing in his mind kept him walking.

"Ponyville..."

Over and over, on repeat, like a broken record - "Ponyville...Ponyville..." - it guided him through the dark wood. It was the heartbeat to his bitter journey.

It had been many days - weeks, possibly - that he had been walking. Time was pointless, though, since it felt like a lifetime - like a new chapter in his life was beginning. He would finally reach his dream... finally be whole, complete. His stomach tightened with hope among the cold, drawing out a new glow in the eyes behind the brim of his sloppy hat.

"I'll finally have it...

"...A library...

"...Ponyvi-"

Schleck! With a violent twist, the earth slid away underneath the stallion, and he swung to the side, landing half his face in the mud.

"Ah! Ah-ha-haaa! *huff* Oh...Stars!" He got up slowly, spitting curses and mud alike. "Ugh, mother- grrrraaaAH! As soon- as soon- as I get on the road, as soon as it starts raining!" His voice was hoarse, desperate, but underneath, mild.

He sighed, anger fizzling to defeat. "This library better be close to that spa they talked up so much... Oh, I hope they're nicer there than back home."

This was Left Page of Manehattan.

"Ridiculous... Not even! Just stupid! If a stallion wants a bubble bath somewhere cleaner than his own flea-infested shower, then it should be perfectly fine... E-even if he's got it all set up at home, if a guy wants a nice bath in general..."

_*_*_*_

Thunder ripped the air of the town like canvas. More important to Slag, though, was that it ripped him out of his bed. Eyes wide, he sighed to himself, "Damn... Getting worse." Sweat beaded down his forehead and the bridge of his snout. His fur was matted more than usual, and with the new air, it soon chilled against his skin. After wiping his eyes with a wet hoof - a counterintuitive move - he turned to see a brass clock on his desk.

"Mmmm... Five s'as good a time as any for breakfast."

Adrenaline gone, grogginess crept up on Slag. "Mayb' not a great time, but 'M up." He stretched his back legs under the covers as far as they'd go, and with a pop, he grunted. A few more twists and turns later, and he was on the floor. Trampled, dull white carpet, once much more plush and bright, was still a feeling for sore hooves. "Nothing wrong with history," is what he would say to those that pointed out the fraying and tracks not just for his bedroom, but across the house. "And yes, I clean it. Those are mostly new. Yeah, just this morning. Yes, I love you ma, I just- forget it, ma."

...Slag had been staring at a corner of the rug for a good minute. "*ahem* Right. Uh... Oatmeal. Oats... Apples? Do I have any left...?" Dragging his hooves from his spot, he made his way downstairs. “Nah, used ‘em for that pie. They were good… ‘Ll have to ask Applejack for a few more of those… Well, it is market day…I’ll hold off on breakfast th-”

Bam!

“Mmmokay gotta fix that rafter soon…”

Author's Note

I could use a few proof readers, if anyone's up for a long-haul of procrastination and disappointment

Yeah, I know I'm selling it hard, but hey. Editing is fun, right?

Edit: oh cool motivation