At my age, memories bubble to the surface in patterns completely mystifying to me.
I’ve spoken with the other princesses in the interest of scientific observation, and they have all described similar feelings about their pasts. Cadence described memories manifesting as powerful emotions, often with little context. Luna explained that her ability to recall her past can often be hampered by her experiences as Nightmare Moon. For Celestia, memories may masquerade as stories she heard or read many years ago.
Each of their distant memories are viewed through a dark tunnel; the edges are fuzzy, the sound distorted, all that happens before and after completely obscured.
This is typically the case for me as well. Today, however, a memory came to me with such compelling clarity I couldn’t think straight for nearly an hour.
I would describe it as a glimpse into the life of another. A conversation I do not otherwise remember, in a location I could not place, about a group of ponies which, by now, have surely faded away.
After some research (admittedly not very much-- such a unique culture would have stuck in my mind had I ever read about it), I have concluded that this particular subset of ponies has not been previously recorded. As I fear there is a significant chance that my memory is the only remaining piece of information that exists in today’s world regarding these ponies, I have decided to record it in as much detail as possible.
In short, the following is a conversation I had with Hollow “Holly” Bone, in an undetermined part of an unknown forest, and during an unknown year.
Although the context of this memory continues to elude me, I can be certain that I was incredibly young. Young enough, in fact, that I did not have my cutie mark, and still retained a deep and slithering uncertainty regarding my own future.
As far as I can recall, I was in an absolutely picturesque clearing of a temperate forest. A waterfall spilled over a craggy ledge and threw rainbows into the air, then pooled delicately into a small pond before snaking its way into the depths of the woods.
I sat on a large, flat stone by the side of the pond. The gentle rush of the waterfall could have lulled a pony to sleep, and the carpet of fine moss beneath my hooves was absolutely luxurious-- not at all like the slimy and cold moss which dripped from the sides of buildings in Canterlot. A strange thing, yet I didn’t mind it in the least.
Too often ignored, the scent of cool, clean water filled the spring air. Even recalling the memory makes me want to crawl down and lap greedy mouthfuls of the stuff again. Sweet, spring water cannot be matched in terms of pure satisfaction. A small filly such as myself could have her fill in mere seconds. I leaned down and did just that, drinking it as fast as I could. The feeling of tears too recently cried was still stuck in my throat. The water pushed it down and away.
When I had finished, I surveyed the area. I had been so, so small. Smaller than a great number of the animals which surely passed through this place. And I was decidedly lost.
Some little ponies, in their general obliviousness to the world, would find the whole situation somewhat calming and perhaps drift off to sleep. Why, even some of the grown-up ponies I know today would turn such a directional muck-up into the perfect chance to catch a quick nap.
Anypony who knows me, however, could predict that I was anything but calm. My heart pounded in my chest, my breath hitched, and I did everything I could not to cry for a second time as I attempted to gather the strength to call out for help.
Tears welled up in my eyes, the skin around them still stinging from my first outburst. The edges of my vision were slowly eaten away by their watery intrusion. The beauty of the natural world was utterly lost to me, as all I could see was limitless danger lurking in the shadows. Somepony, anypony, please save me!
“What are you doing here?” A voice had called out. Its tone reminded me of Luna, strong and authoritative, but there was a slight falter in its execution.
Being as small and scared as I was, I whirled about immediately. My tiny hooves were silent against the carpet of moss I stood upon. The tears clouded my vision, and I did my best to blink them away.
“Leave this place, little filly. It doesn’t belong to you.”
Now in a panic, I rubbed at my eyes with both hooves in a desperate attempt to wipe away the tears and faced what stood before me.
Although I still struggled to see through the tears, I managed to get my first look at the pony which now haunts my every waking thought.
She stood at the edge of the clearing. She was tall, lanky. She didn’t quite have the elegance of a fully grown mare, but the potential was there. She was most certainly a pegasus, with two large and imposing wings. The pose wasn’t one of power or beauty, but her awkward attempt at folding her oversized wings against her flanks. I suppose she still required much concentration to use her limbs. I remember being that way, myself. Much later than this day, of course.
My gaze wandered as she struggled to close her wings. Her coat was so dark and deep a green that she practically melted into the surrounding woods. Her mane, a brown as rich as fertile earth, was cropped short and harsh, blown back from her face so as to expose the sharp angles of her jawline and the shimmer of her glittering blue eyes.
She took a few steps toward me, and her head bobbed much in the manner of a chicken.
I drew in a harsh gasp.
She had antlers. Two magnificent, dark, beautiful antlers which must have weighed more than I did at that age. Enormous things… magically, enchantedly large, hanging with gobs of light moss. Something about the way the moss accumulated in the dips and divots of her antlers reminded me of dewy drops of water on grass.
“Little filly?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. Her tongue peeked out of her mouth and pulled in her lower lip.
I scrambled backwards. One hoof slid off the back of the stone, and I let out a sound of surprise and fear. I could hear a few clods of dirt crumble away and down the side of the boulder.
“Don’t be afraid!” the pony said, hurrying forward. She was like a deer in her movements, with tiny hooves that made so little sound. “I’m not a bad… I-I won’t hurt you, little filly.”
I sniffled.
The pony looked at me thoughtfully, calculating her next move. So young, yet so aware of my own youth and fear. Her head cocked slightly to the side, and she struggled to regain her balance. Those antlers... huge and heavy and difficult to control.
“What’s your name?” she asked. Her voice was low and soothing. Eyes wide and innocent.
I sniffled again and wiped a tear off my cheek with a clumsy hoof. “Twilight…”
“Twilight?” she repeated. She took a step closer, now close enough that I could make out the tiny inconsistencies in the her coat. Lighter green here, darker there, more yellow, more blue. Her brows turned up, worriedly so, and she gazed at me in such a way that I could feel my heartbeat slowing. “Why, that’s a beautiful name, little filly. Who gave it to you?”
I didn’t understand the question at first, but I eventually replied, “My mommy.”
“Really?” She seemed absolutely fascinated. “Do mothers normally name their foals where you come from?”
I thought about that for a moment. “Well… I guess.”
My fear was beginning to turn into curiosity, although the wavering had not entirely left my voice. Such a strange pony, asking such strange questions. I suppose it was always in my nature to be so dangerously curious about strange things.
“That’s very interesting. Where I come from, the mothers never name their foals,” she explained. “There’s a special stallion in our village who names the foals, and the names he picks are always just right. How do your mothers know the right name?”
I frowned. I had never pondered this question before. How did my mother know that I should be Twilight, after all?
The pony took a few more steps toward me, close enough now that I could have reached out and touched her. The gentle rise and fall of her chest certainly tempted me to do so. “Our Name Master named me ‘Hollow Bone.’ I don’t know if I like it or not. Most ponies call me ‘Holly.’”
I sniffled with a great amount of strength, and Holly pouted her bottom lip in a look of mild concern. I gathered my strength and swallowed the waver in my voice. “Holly’s a very pretty name.”
“You think so?”
I nodded.
Holly sighed deeply and looked nervously from side to side. Her eyes strained to look beyond her peripheral vision, as it seemed that turning her head was a great task due to the weight she bore upon it. “Where are your parents, Twilight?”
I shrugged. “I dunno. I just wanna go home.”
“Well, how did you get here?” Holly asked. Leaned down to me, neck tensing with the weight of her antlers. Her hoof mingled with the grass and sounded like a gentle 'shush.' She now looked into my eyes with an almost hypnotizing gaze. Her eyes, much like her coat and mane, had such depth of color that I could have been looking into the clear blue skies themselves. I could smell her breath-- like cherry blossoms. “Are you from a nearby village? Perhaps I could take you home.”
“I’m from…” I had to think about it. “I’m from Canterlot. Is that near here?”
Holly squinted. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard of Canterlot.”
I gasped again, this time very gently. “But that’s where the princess lives! Don’t you know where the princess lives?”
Holly cocked her head to the side. This time, the shift in her weight required her to to take a step to right herself. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard of a princess, either. What do they look like?”
I nearly squealed with joy at the opportunity to talk about one of my most favorite subjects. “Well, she’s a great big pony with gigantic wings and a very long horn and--”
Holly’s eyes lit up. “Wings and a horn?”
“Of course! And--”
“So, I’m not the only one?” Holly asked, leaning in very close to me. A smile teased at the corners of her mouth. Her eyes filled with hope.
I shrank away slightly and glanced up at her antlers. “Oh! Well, not quite like that. Just one, like mine!” I tapped my own horn with my hoof. “Can your antlers do magic?”
Holly sighed again, very deeply, and rolled her eyes.
“What’s wrong?”
“Well, it’s just that I--” She cut herself off. “Twilight, do you mind if I sit with you? I’ve been looking for somepony to talk to for quite some time now.”
“You can talk to me.” I flashed a cautious smile. I scooted over to my right a patted the moss next to me.
Holly clambered up onto the stone, using her wings for balance, and sat clumsily beside me. She nickered gently and shook her head to clear her mind. Her antlers made this a difficult gesture, and her movements were slow and deliberate.
“When I was a born, I didn’t have these,” she began, gesturing to her crest of antlers. “I was a regular old pegasus, just like both of my parents. Nopony liked them very much because they couldn’t do a lot besides gather.”
“Huh?” I suppose I didn’t quite understand what Holly had tried to explain. “Why didn’t the other ponies like them?”
“Hm.” She narrowed her eyes and searched inwardly for a clearer explanation. “I think… I think other ponies thought they were very lazy. We had gardeners who grew food right in the village, and nopony thought we needed gatherers. It’s not a very good reason, I guess. But, since my parents were gatherers, that meant I would be a gatherer, too. Nopony really gave me much mind.”
“That’s not fair,” I said.
Holly looked down at me, almost surprised.
I felt the need to explain myself. “Nopony can tell you who you’re going to be, that’s what a cutie mark is for!”
Holly considered this, first looking at me and then out into the forest. “Is that how it is where you’re from?”
I nodded emphatically. “When you get your cutie mark, then you know your true purpose! And you get to do it forever.” I smiled. “I’m gonna get my cutie mark in… in books! Or maybe magic, like my daddy says. Then I’ll just get to do magic all the time!”
Holly looked down. The muscles in her neck tensed to support the weight of her crest. “It must be nice to come from a place where everypony actually gets a cutie mark…”
I bit my lip. “Everypony can get a cutie mark. That’s what makes ponies special!”
“Everypony can but… but not everypony does, little filly.” She shrugged. “If you’re lucky enough, the village needs you for something you really like and you end up with one. But we all have to do what needs to be done, there’s no room for… anything else. Everypony has to work hard and contribute.”
Holly rustled her wings against her sides, shifted her hooves around a bit. She wore a grimace as she stared down at the moss beneath our hooves. After a moment of this, she settled herself all the way down onto her chest, and laid her head on the moss. She rolled her head to the side slightly and allowed her crest to rest on the stone. She sighed contentedly and pressed her face harder into the cool moss. It meshed with the fur on her cheek, the greens mingling into a marbled stripe of dense fluff. She closed her eyes against this comfort.
“But that’s so sad.”
Holly’s eyes opened back up to look at me thoughtfully. “I’m glad you think so, Twilight. It is sad… and horribly boring.”
I picked at the moss with one hoof, rolled it back on itself to expose the dark stone underneath. “Well, do you think you’ll get your cutie mark eventually?”
Holly let out another tremendous sigh and rolled all the way over onto her back. She laid one forehoof across her stomach and let the other drape off the edge of the stone. Her wings spread to both sides, one brushing gently against my flank. “On the one hoof, getting my cutie mark would be so special, wouldn’t it? Gosh, I’d be one of the only ones to have mine. Wouldn’t that be wonderful?”
I watched, waiting for the retort.
“But…” She grumbled softly. One hoof rose from her stomach and rubbed her head, then draped it over both of her eyes. “Well, if I got a cutie mark in what I’m doing right now, it sure wouldn’t make me happy.”
“Why not?” I asked.
Holly lifted her hoof from over her eyes and peered at me. “You really want to know?”
I thought about that for a moment, then eagerly nodded.
“Gee, you’re a good listener, you know that?” Holly struggled back into a sitting position.
I smiled at the compliment, giggled a little with pride.
“Well, Twilight, since you asked--” She cleared her throat “--As I said, I wasn’t born with these antlers. And, although I don’t know how common they are where you come from, they are decidedly rare where I come from.”
“I’ve never seen a pony with antlers before,” I agreed.
“Well, neither had anypony in my village!” Holly exclaimed. “And everypony started to panic a bit, because I was this tiny foal with giant antlers growing out of my head. At first, they really didn’t know what was happening. I think they thought I…”
She looked down at me, once again carefully considering my age and relative maturity.
“Er, they thought it would… hurt.”
I blinked.
"You know, like..." She cleared her throat again, and evidently decided not to pursue the topic of death with me today. “Anyway, once they realized they weren’t hurting me at all, they started to raise other questions about how I was feeling. Eventually, somepony suggested that I might have a hidden talent in magic, and since I was a pegasus… well, they got scared of me.”
“Why scared?” I asked. I scooted forward, engrossed by her story.
“Well, they thought I had strong magic, but I had been born a pegasus! They didn’t know where the magic came from, or how it might act. It’s been a really long time since we even had a unicorn in our village… I just think they were scared of how to deal with it, you know?”
I could relate. “My mommy told me that when I was real little and I first got my magic that I almost burned our house down.”
A shadow of fear crossed Holly’s eyes. “Is that… normal?”
I nodded. “I also got really good at teleporting around the house to avoid bathtime.”
Holly swallowed hard, keenly aware of the power that my diminutive horn possessed.
“None of that ever happened to me. I don’t think I have any magic at all, actually. It’s just what everypony expected when I got all… weird.”
I was quiet for a moment. “Well, I don’t think it’s weird.”
“You don’t?”
“I think your antlers are very pretty, Holly.” I said. “And I definitely don’t think they’re scary.”
A smile crept into Holly’s face, and she turned away from the unexpected compliment. I would hazard to say that a gentle blush crept into those dark cheeks.
“Anyway, when everypony got all scared, my parents…” she trailed off. “Well, you see-- it’s hard to explain. My parents weren’t always treated so good, you know?”
“Why?”
“Like I said, they didn’t have any… any useful skills, really. They just went out and picked berries and stuff. But when they realized that I scared everypony so much, they just let everypony believe it.”
I chewed on my lip in careful concentration. “I don’t understand.”
“Everypony treated them so terribly before, and now they had this power over the whole village. They told everypony that I was incredibly dangerous, like a God, but that they had me under control. Suddenly, the whole town was doing everything they could to keep my parents happy. They were all so afraid that, if they slipped up, my parents would release me on them and I would hurt them.”
I was silent. Holly ground her hoof into the moss. She let the waterfall fill the silence for nearly a minute, instead focusing her passion into pulverizing a patch of moss to the best of her ability.
“Ponies would come to see me to ask for help or advice, scared out of their minds, and I didn’t have answers. I made things up and lied and… and sometimes I did really mean things. I just wanted everypony to go away!” This time, her voice was choked off. She clenched her teeth and looked away from me.
“Holly?”
She took one deep and quivering breath, snorted it harshly back out, and turned to me. “I did a lot of things that I probably shouldn’t have. I’m a grown-up now, and I know they were wrong, but…”
Holly looked over her shoulder, at the waterfall. She watched the water spilling over the rocky outcropping, the spray of mist, and the sunlight that filtered through it and fractured into a rainbow.
“Twilight, I just don’t know what I would do if I got my cutie mark for lying to ponies.” Now Holly was sniffling. “I don’t like to lie… but I guess I’m good at it. Everypony believes me. Do you think I could--?”
She stopped and turned back to me. The wispy ends of her mane seemed to tickle the air. Despite the relative steadiness of her voice, her eyes were filled to the brim with tears. She blinked and a large tear now rolled down her cheek. It cut a track in her dark green coat.
“Do you think that could happen? Do you think it could be my purpose?” Her lip quivered and a little choked sob slipped out. She was trying very hard to keep her breathing under control (for my sake, I suppose).
I didn’t know what to do. At that time in my life, I could barely be expected to have the social skills to handle a schoolyard argument, but I was so far behind personally that my mind froze into a solid block of panic when confronted with such an unexpected and extreme emotional outburst.
Thankfully, Holly’s tears slowed, and she wiped them away as best she could. “I’m sorry, little filly, I hope I didn’t scare you. I’ve never had somepony to talk to about this before.”
“It’s okay, Holly,” I said. “My mommy says it’s always okay to cry.”
Holly smiled weakly. “I think that’s very good advice.”
“Why don’t you tell everypony the truth?” I asked. “I bet they would still want your help, but you wouldn’t be lying anymore.”
“I don’t know…” Holly shrugged. “I don’t give very good advice. It’s just my job to give it, so I do. I don’t think I’m right very often.”
“Maybe giving good advice isn’t about being right.”
Holly sniffled. “What do you mean?”
I sighed. “Well, my big brother always has a hard time deciding what kind of donut to get when we go to Donut Joe’s. And he always asks me for help picking between two flavors. I tell him which one I like the best, and sometimes he listens, but a lot of the time he doesn’t. He’s always happy, though, and he stills asks me for help, even though I’m not always right.” I looked up into Holly’s eyes. “Don’t you think that you could do that, too? Just do your best to help ponies, even if you’re not sure?”
Holly looked into my eyes for a long time, the tears finally clearing completely. Then she turned her head to look back in the direction she came from. A light breeze blew in from the forest and ruffled my mane. Holly’s mane tickled the air again.
“I’m not sure I understand the donut part,” Holly said. “Or anything else. How can advice be helpful if it isn’t right?”
“Hm…” I wondered about that for a moment. “With my brother… it’s like it helps him figure out what he really wants.”
“What he really…” Holly nodded slowly. “Interesting. So, when you give him an answer, he can really feel if it’s right or wrong?”
I stood up and faced Holly. I could feel a need to lecture building in my chest, and Holly only encouraged it by settling into her sitting position and gazing at me with hopefully expectation. “Let’s say my brother and I go to Donut Joe’s. My brother says ‘Twily, should I get chocolate or vanilla?’” I did my best to deepen my voice in an attempt to imitate Shining Armor.
Holly giggled.
“And I say ‘Well, Shiny, I like vanilla!’ And he thinks about and goes ‘I don’t want vanilla! I want chocolate.’” I proclaimed in the voice of my brother. “I helped him even though I wasn’t right, right? I was like a… like a, um…”
I stopped and pondered, mouth hanging opening, searching for a word.
“A guide?” Holly suggested.
I thought for a minute. “Well, sure!”
Holly smiled. She looked over her shoulder again, back at the waterfall… but further, this time. Past the water, past the rainbow, and at the rays of the sun which peeked through the leaves. It fell onto her coat and feathers, dappled patches of golden light. I had somehow not noticed it before-- or perhaps the sun had finally reached the perfect angle to light upon her.
“A guide…” she repeated, very softly. “Twilight, I think you may be one of the smartest ponies I have ever met.”
I blushed. “I’m just a little filly!”
She smiled. A big, genuine smile which grew across her face and shined down on me like the sun. “Yes! Isn’t that remarkable?”
She stood up, stretched a wing over me. I looked up into the green feathers and watched them ripple in the breeze. My very own leafy canopy.
“I’m not sure why, precisely, but I like the sound of that,” she said. She turned in a small circle, so as to face the sun. "A guide."
I turned, too, looking through the spray of the waterfall at the golden rays of the sun.
“You see, little filly, I always follow the sun.” Holly swished her tail. “I wake up early, and I sneak out to follow the sun just as it’s rising. It always, always leads me here. Isn’t that fascinating?”
I thought for a moment. Here was Holly, a pony who had never heard of any Princess Celestia, and yet instinctively knew to tap into her magic when she was feeling lost. Perhaps Holly did have some sort of deep magic, a type which could not be defined as simply as mine could. I had magic because I could move a quill from here to there without lifting a hoof, and maybe Holly couldn't, but there was no doubt in my mind that something about her was... magical.
Perhaps there was a magic more elusive than books could communicate.
This revelation fluttered in my young chest. Clearly it was a feeling I would soon forget, but for the moment it was so potently strong that I could hardly think of anything else.
Deep magic. A magic of love and trust…
“This is a very special place to me,” Holly continued. “It’s where I spend most of my days now… And you’re the first pony I’ve seen here. That’s interesting, too. So many interesting things…”
She considered this, then stomped her hoof, but did not say anything.
“Holly?” I prompted.
She looked down at me. “You still haven’t told me how you got here.”
I chewed on my lip. “I don’t really remember.”
“Isn’t that interesting…”
Holly hopped down from the rock and wandered to the water’s edge. She stared at her own reflection a while, studied it, then reached out a hoof and stroked the top surface of the water. It rippled out, every ripple bending and warping to travel with the current of the water.
“I always loved to watch the water here. It’s one of the reasons I love this place,” she explained. She walked slowly along the edge of the pool, pulling her hoof and a family of ripples with her as she went. “It’s chaotic, you know-- the water flies off the edge of that cliff, falls into the pools below and churns against stone and sand, sweeps fish and spring peepers along with it… And yet, it always ends up flowing down that creek and into the woods.”
She removed her hoof, shook it dry, and knelt down to look into the depths of the pool
“Come here, Twilight!”
After a moment’s pause, I made my way down from the rock with some difficulty and joined Holly by the side of the water. She was right; the water rushed over tiny river rocks and kicked up sand on its way to the mouth of the creek. The pebbles at the bottom of the pool were small and smooth, almost like tiny candies, and almost as colorful. Everything from stark white to vibrant orange to stone-cold black could be found among them. Every color was clear and bold through the crystalline waters.
“I always thought of the stones as obstacles.” She reached into the pool and kicked a few of the pebbles about. “But what you’re saying is that they’re not obstacles at all. They guide the water in new directions, perhaps back where they came or even down in a whirlpool, but they always end up back on their path eventually.”
I chuckled nervously. “Is that what I said?”
Holly looked to me with a knowing smile. “Maybe right now I’m a rock, and I’m messing up the natural order, but everypony is still… still okay. And maybe one day I could be the creek! With a strong current and a clear direction.”
I didn’t think that was what I said at all. It sounded much smarter than my story about donuts. I could feel a shameful blush creeping into my cheeks.
“I really like that idea,” Holly said. “It sounds like a heroic place to be. Helping ponies on their personal journeys, or even with silly little things.”
She drew her hoof out of the water. The fur around her hoof was now dripping and shiny, an even deeper green than before.
“Say…” Holly’s face turned from a relaxed content to something of a wry smile. “Say, Twilight, I have the advantage, don’t I?”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, everypony thinks I’m magical, don’t they?” She stood up, a newfound power in her stance. “They think I have powers and I can help or… or something. I could use that, couldn’t I?”
“Uh…” I had gotten lost long ago.
Holly was practically bouncing. “I’m already in charge! All the ponies will follow me wherever I guide them, won’t they? I used to think that was a bad thing, I used to be so scared…”
She paused for a moment, then looked down at me.
“I-I’m sorry, I don’t--”
“Don’t be sorry!” Holly was grinning now, her face as gleeful as a sugared-up filly. “Don’t be sorry, Twilight! I understand now!”
She pointed to the sun, now setting.
I cocked my head.
“I have to be like the sun, Twilight! I could… I could guide the ponies to a better place. I could make sure they all get their cutie marks, and I could help them all be good to one another, I could show them how my parents have lied and…”
She trailed off, watching the blue sky become consumed by golden light. She did so in silence, only her fluffy chest rising and falling. It was almost as if I could see the secrets of the universe becoming clear to her, parts of her mind which had thus far been closed to her now opening. Even as the light dwindled, she seemed to grow brighter.
“Twilight, you said you were lost?” She finally said. Her eyes were still trained on the final rays of the sun as it disappeared.
I nodded. “Mm-hm.”
Holly looked down at me. There was something new in her eyes, a sheen of confidence which had replaced the old sheen of sadness. “Why don’t we try to find your way back home?”
The very last fringes of this memory are of a flash of light, one which seemed to originate from Holly. I remember hearing her gasp very softly, but not needing to look back at her flank for confirmation. A blazing sun now graced her green coat, a symbol which I can only hope was able to guide her to safety and happiness.
It is my request that this entry be included in a collection of narrative evidence, as I cannot be certain of its validity. In the interest of historical accuracy, it must remain but a story.
I know it isn’t quite proper of me to say, but I would be remiss if I did not reiterate the impact this event had upon me, both the initial event and its remembrance. Even if this race of ponies is not deemed historically significant, this conversation alone set me on a very important path. Knowing Equestria’s more recent history, it should be clear how this conversation has impacted our world at large.
In a way, we owe it to Holly.
Thank you,
Princess Twilight Sparkle
Author's Note
Thank you for reading! Don't forget to let me know what you thought-- This is a first iteration of a one-shot I plan on improving over many, many re-writes (as many as I can squeeze in before November 2nd!!)
