Building Ponies

The first morning after the unicorns had moved into their own hut, it began to rain. The rains always fell at this time of year. Steady downpours, violent thunderstorms, light sprinkles, and when none of those were available there was the ever present humidity to contend with. Still, Thistle loved the smell of rain.

“I must admit, I’m enjoying all this leg room.” Light sighed from the other side of the hut. To emphasize her point she rolled onto her back and kicked all four legs in the air, then splayed them wide. “My bruises have almost all healed.”

“Haha, very funny. It’s not like I knew Rainfall would go into labor after we laid down.” Thistle pouted and wished briefly that Light’s eyes were good enough to see the pout. Why did most labors begin at night anyway?

“How did it go by the way?” Light asked, still cheerfully basking in all the freed up room. They’d see who was laughing when her heats began and she moved in with Pink and Pucker. Thistle had it on good authority that Pink snored and Pucker kicked.

“Long, almost too long.” She’d been contemplating a gallop back to the hut for more specialized supplies when things had finally started progressing. “A healthy filly though, good lungs. They were debating her name when I left.”

“Remember when Enduring told us about foalbirth?” Light grinned wickedly.

“I remember how difficult it was to walk with my tail tucked against my rear.” Thistle snorted, remembering. “And then Pucker came up behind us and we galloped.”

They shared a laugh. Light even got up and came back around the fire so they could cuddle. Thistle listened to the rain outside and enjoyed the comfort of her sister. In Thistle’s experience rain was a good thing. It kept ponies indoors and encouraged them to sit together and be cordial because nopony wanted to get shunted out into the rain. Nopony expected her to go out and make her usual rounds and unless there was an emergency nopony would come to her. She still had the Leadership meeting to attend, but that was…

Sooner than she’d hoped actually. She’d slept in a little after the late night.

“I have to get going.” She sighed, tired and older than fourteen. Tired and older than forty.

“I do not envy you.” Light tilted her head, a sure sign she was listening to the outside world. “It doesn’t sound like it’ll stop any time soon.”

“And nothing short of a blizzard is a good enough excuse to miss the meeting.” Thistle quoted.

“Well, I’ll be here when you get back. Maybe we can go visit our cousins afterward?” Light suggested, bumping her shoulder.

That cheered her up a bit. It turned out that living on different sides of the village made it a lot harder to find time to be with family. Passing moments, a brief meal together and even that had been rare with the unicorns to get settled in. It was amazing how much could be missed when you didn’t share sleeping space anymore.

She was soaked in seconds, even galloping. She had half a mind to just barge into True Blue’s hut without knocking, but a few extra seconds under the clouds would make her no wetter than she already was. So she knocked as usual and waited to be let inside.

“Well, I can see you’re enjoying the weather just as much as I am.” Pink snickered, rivulets running down her body.

“Not another word, Pink.” She sent a scathing glare at her cousin. The older ponies in the room smirked or openly chortled depending on their personality. She was the last one to arrive.

“How goes construction of the wall?” True Blue brought the meeting to order.

“Construction itself is steady, we’re still having issues getting rocks hauled though.” Pink admitted. “Morning thinks she’s come up with a way to make that easier, but apparently that’s gonna take a little longer. She said she’d get back to me when she had something that worked. I think it’s a new kind of sledge.”

“Do you believe it will be completed before harvest?” True asked, frowning in concern.

“…We haven’t even finished the first section.” Pink groaned, rubbing her temples. “Nopony likes hauling rocks, and the only reason I have as many volunteers as I do is because of Onyx and his levitation thing.”

“We need to provide some sort of incentive for work.” Woodpecker’s brows furrowed. His eyes turned upward in thought. “Something that will make ponies want to work every day, and not just so they can watch Onyx lift rocks with his mind.”

“The patrols and guard shifts never seem to suffer for volunteers.” Shiny sniffed. “I suppose the incentive there is that it keeps the herd safe and keeps anypony from taking more than their fair share of food.”

“Attendance in the fields is steady too,” Thistle realized. The numbers went down a bit when it was mostly weeding and watering, but Marsh Steps never had a hard time getting help. “But the wall would keep us safe. How can we get them to see it?”

“An incentive, hmm,” Shiny’s face twisted into a scowl. “I suppose we could offer extra rations for the ponies on construction. Pink would only need to vouch for the ponies who actually did the work. But the rest of the herd,” She winced.

“They’d see other ponies getting more than them, and either they’d flood the construction and make it so we couldn’t afford to give extra to everypony, or they’d be jealous and resentful of the construction ponies.” Woodpecker reasoned with a shake of his head. “Besides, most ponies use the storehouse because its less work than foraging. If they have to haul rocks all day, then the foraging will become more popular.”

“Maybe a trade?” Pink suggested, rubbing her chin. “If they work so many days on the wall, then…” She paused, trying to think of an equal trade.

“Let’s not allow ourselves to be drawn in another endless debate.” True lifted her hoof. “We’ll all try to come up with ideas and solutions. For now, let’s move on. The unicorns?”

“Settling in nicely, I think.” Thistle straightened, scooting just a little closer to the fire. The smoke might burn her eyes but at least it was warm. She hated having wet fur. “They’re still very strange, and more than a few ponies have brought their concerns to me. I’ve been trying to set them at ease.”

“I’ve been giving them personal lessons on Earth pony Herd Law in my spare time.” Woodpecker leaned towards her a little, putting him a bit closer to the fire as well. “I’ve also been learning about Unicorn Herd Law, just in case a herd of them ever appears.”

“Have you learned what drove them from their herd?” Rockslide spoke for the first time that morning.

“I haven’t outright asked because I don’t want to put them on the defensive, but I do think it was a kind of banishment. However, if it was banishment, then I believe Onyx was the only one to earn it.” He told them.

“What about Emerald Daze and Sapphire Cut?” Shiny frowned in confusion.

“Yeah, why would they leave the herd with him? I didn’t get the impression they liked him that much.” Pink scratched her mane, messing up some of the finer braids.

“From what I’ve learned, they didn’t have a choice. Unicorns don’t Follow. Mares are…are,” He struggled with himself. “Hoofed over to stallions by the Lead Mare and their own dams. He calls them his, as if they were a pair of baskets or something.”

“I admit, I became a little concerned that he was forcing them to group with him, but neither mare has expressed a desire to leave him.” He finished.

“Hmm,” True scowled darkly for a moment. “Thistle Burr, see if you can speak to them privately, without arousing Onyx’s suspicion. Such practices might be acceptable among the unicorns, but not us. Ensure that they understand they are free to leave whenever they choose, and we will protect them from him should it come to that.”

“Yes, Lead Mare.” Thistle bowed her head. She hoped it didn’t come to that. Onyx didn’t come across as a monster to her.
___________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Morning did her best to not scream in frustration. The foals were nearby and really didn’t need to see her cursing a round piece and its likely heritage. Even if it probably grew from the most diseased, bug-ridden Shadow-Cursed tree in the world!

Wood scraps and carved pieces littered her work area. Most of these normally sat outside, but she didn’t want to lose a day of work just because of the weather.

“What’s that?” Busy Bee pointed at the part she’d been glaring at all morning.

“I’m calling it an axle.” She answered.

“Why?” He blinked up at her.

“Because it was cut with an axe.” She explained, bracing herself for the next question. There was always a next question.

“Why?” There it was.

“Because Mama is trying to help Pink Peach make it easier to move lots of rocks.” The problem right now was that the wheel and axle parts kept spinning out from under the flat pieces she put them on. She had no way to secure them without preventing them from spinning.

Which defeated the whole purpose.

While they stayed on the sledge, they made pulling easier. A lot easier. But soon they’d spin out from under it and she’d have to put them back. It didn’t work like she wanted it to.

“Why?” Her colt, her firstborn, her wonderful, smart, and handsome foal…

“Because Pink Peach needs rocks to build the wall, but the rocks are up high on the mountain and they aren’t easy to get.” She sighed.

“Mama! Thistle and Light are here!” Cam walked into the bedroom, a big grin on her face. “They’re soaked! Come and see!”

“Okay, that might be worth leaving the work alone.” Morning admitted, grabbing up Busy before he could get out of reach.

In the main room the others had already fallen on Thistle and Light, either ignoring or not caring how wet it got them in the process. Cam herself was looking more than a little damp and even Hornet’s forelegs showed signs of water. Morning happily dropped Busy into the foalpile and waited for one of her cousins to pull themselves out. Thistle was the first to wriggle herself free and Morning cheerfully dropped on top of her, trapping her back in the foalpile.

“Everypony! Quit it!” Thistle giggled unconvincingly. “Can’t you see we’re wet?”

“You’re always saying how the cold and damp makes ponies sick, you should be thanking us!” Mountain cackled, pulling Light back before the filly could escape. “We’re drying you off with the heat of our love!”

“Well, I feel loved.” Light’s voice was a little hard to make out with Brook seated on her face. “But I did not miss the bruises.”

“You bruise easier than an apple.” Mountain snorted. It was several more minutes before the foalpile fell apart. And that only because Brook announced that she had to pee.

After saving Light from another dousing, the family gathered around the fire in peace and harmony.

“It is nice of you two to visit,” Morning reassured them. “But in this weather?”

“We were bored and lonely.” Light shrugged, as difficult to tease as ever. “How are all of you enjoying your new home?” She addressed the foals.

“It’s okay, I guess.” Cam rolled her shoulders, looking up at the walls decorated with flowers instead of healing herbs. Granted, more than a few healing herbs were up there too. They made the house smell nice. “Nopony tells stories as good as you though.”

“Ooh, ooh, stories!” Busy reared happily. “Tell us a story, Light!”

“Stowy! Stowy!” Brook chirped, repeating the word she liked best. Getting that little filly to use full sentences, even small ones, was going to turn into another exercise in frustration.

“Yeah, Light, don’tcha got a story for us?” Mountain elbowed her.

“Well,” She drew it out, smirking at their smiling faces. “I do have a new story today. Does anypony want to hear it?”

“New story! New story!” Busy whooped, almost bucking Cam in the face until their older daughter pinned him down.

“Stowy!” Brook agreed. Morning was just glad she wasn’t as rambunctious as Busy Bee.

“Alright, settle down everypony.” Light cleared her throat. Mountain went around the group until she could sit beside Morning with Hornet on her other side. “This is a story about Unicorns and stars.” The foals gasped.

Unicorns have always looked to the stars. The Sun, the Moon, and all the Stars Above were the most beautiful gems in existence. The gems found in the northern mountain ranges they called home couldn’t begin to compare with the glory above their heads.

There was one Unicorn in particular who loved to look at the stars more than anything else. He loved them so much that he’d stay up all night to watch them twinkle and shine. In the morning, when the Sun rose and the herd began to move on, he’d be tired and sore from looking up all night long. He stumbled when he walked. He tripped on every root and rock to come across his path. He even bumped into ponies. His head would droop with tiredness and he’d use every break as an opportunity to nap.

But every night he’d look up again and be caught in the beauty of the stars. Some stars, he found, moved position with the seasons. Others were found in the same place every night without fail. If lines were drawn between the stars they made pictures! Ponies and animals and even plants! Some were big and bright, others were small and dull. And to him, each and every one was beautiful and worthy of song.

For Unicorns love to sing, don’t you know? They sing when a foal is born, when a pony dies, they’ll sing at the turn of the seasons and when day turns to night and night turns to day. Unicorns love singing just as much as they love the stars.

But nopony sings after the sunset song. That’s the time to sleep. The time to watch for predators. All is still and silent.

He sang quietly. It started with humming, trying to find a tune just as beautiful as the stars. The other stallions in watch whipped their tails and snorted, but they let him be. Let him hum if it kept him awake, they thought.

The next day he was even more tired. He trotted near the back of the herd with his mates and foals close by. When they stopped to eat and drink, he hummed rather than sleep. He had still yet to find a tune he thought worthy of the stars.

The next night, he debated words. Comparing the stars to gems didn’t seem good enough. It felt like an insult. The grandest of gems could not compare to the dullest of stars, he felt.

Again, the stallions on guard took offense to his noise. They looked to each other and then forced themselves to focus on protecting the herd.

The next day the Unicorn was even more tired. He barely kept up with the herd at all. He intended to sleep when the herd stopped, but the Leads approached him. The Lead Stallion and Lead Mare stood before him and he made himself stand to meet them.

“We have heard you have been disturbing the guards with night singing.” The Lead Stallion informed him. “What purpose do you have in disturbing the stillness of night?”

“O, Lead Stallion, my purpose is a noble one, I assure you!” The Unicorn bowed his head respectfully. “I have been composing a song fit for the Heavens. A song to capture the majesty of the Starry Spiral, the elegance of the Winding River, the peace of the Roosting Bird, and the endurance of the Three Guards. Night after night has passed and the more I look upon them, the more I feel they are deserving of song, my Leads.”

“Deserving of song, you say?” The Lead Mare looked down at him. “There is truth in what you say, but there is also the safety of the herd to consider. Wolves and other predators stalk us at night and you draw their attention with your noise. How do you propose to protect the herd and honor the stars at the same time?”

The Unicorn did not have an answer. Instead, he knelt at their hooves and swore to think of one before returning to his composing.

Days and nights passed. He was a little better rested, but still spent most of his nights looking above him for inspiration. He studied the wild beasts his herd was so cautious of. Their horns were sharp, but predators are fast.

When the herd sang their songs, it made a lot of noise. That’s why they only sang during the day. They sang as they travelled and sang when they played.

He thought on this for a while and could think of no solution. Days passed, the moon shifted faces, and the seasons turned. Spring to summer, summer to fall, and, finally, fall to winter. The longest night of the year arrived and though he still had no answer for his Star Song, at least he could content himself with hours beneath their glow.

It was a lean winter. Little remained under the snow to be eaten and everypony was hungry. More than a few laid awake at night with their grumbling bellies. The ponies were not the only ones desperate for food though. No. The wolves, too, hungered.

The Unicorn heard them coming. Ponies were awoken from sleep and the herd gathered in a circle. Stallions on the outside, mares, and foals at the center. The ones at the edge of the circle brandished their horns, worn sharp.

The Unicorn looked up for what he feared might be the last time. Above him the stars glowed and it was as he gazed at their majesty that he was struck by inspiration.

No one star could light up the night, but all of them? In concert?

He looked to the stallions at his sides and he said to them, “The wolves are coming and our mares and foals stand behind us. A battle for our very lives looms in our futures. Might we sing, my brothers? Might we sing?”

“We’ll sing with you, O’ Brother.” They said to him. “We’ll sing with you.”

It wasn’t a song of stars and their ethereal glow. He didn’t have the time to compose something of that sort. No, this was a song of battle and glory. This was a song of survival.

First it was just the three of them, but more ponies added their voices. They were scared and cold and hungry, but they would gather their courage against the predators who wished to feed on them. The song travelled around the circle, from pony to pony, young and old, mare and stallion, filly and colt, until their voices were an echoing avalanche.

The wolves…hesitated.

A lone, starving herd, that they might have tried their luck against with the lean winter and cold. But a herd that sounded as powerful as this? A herd that met their yellow eyes with toothy grins and bellowing voices? There was no prey to be found here. None at all.

For hours, the herd sang as one. When one song finished, another began. They stomped their hooves to match the beat and brandished their horn at any lingering shadow. And above them? Above them the stars watched as they turned the wolves away.

They greeted the sunrise with the appropriate song and it was still louder than any they’d sang before. They left the deadly valley they’d sheltered in, eager to make distance from the hungry wolf pack, but they sang as they walked. When they stopped for the night, the Unicorn stallion watched as ponies sang, no more united, but still strong.

“So you have found a way for us to sing at night, Brother Unicorn?” The Lead Stallion and Lead Mare found him.

“Yes, my Leads.” He bowed in respect. “For just as no single star can light the sky, no single voice can turn away the dangers of the night.”

“Ponies will sing of this, you know.” The Lead Mare laughingly informed him. “They will sing of the star obsessed stallion who wanted to sing at night. And I dare say they shall sing every year on the longest night, in your memory.”

She was right. The herd became less fearful of singing at night. They didn’t do it often, for yes, most ponies liked to sleep at night. But every year on the longest night, they gathered in a circle and lifted their eyes to the stars and sang. A star song, yes, but songs of love and dedication as well.

Songs about a Unicorn stallion who loved the stars.