Chapter#2

Early Market Troubles
6:50 am

By Mornings Dew

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I'm trotting down Sturrup Street, the longest and biggest street in Ponyville. It cuts right through the village, and is usually very crowded mid-day. Well. . . that's a lie, its always crowded mid-day. But, there is always nopony in the mornings, yet with the Summer Sun Celebration right around the corner, I believe it is just as crowded now compared to mid-day.

I'm just saying, I'm very well known in this town. Especially with foals. Just saying.

As I trot down Sturrup Street, familiar faces wave at me, old and new. Most of the time I smile or nod as an ’I acknowledge you’ hello. I wave sometimes, but only when I slow down by slight traffic. And because I don't want to trip, that's a valid reason, too.

In long walks, my mind tends to wander. It would usually think about all the confusing things— if that makes sense. I sorta stopped it so I can ’acknowledge’ other ponies waving at me and not seem rude. But I am on autopilot, and I usually snap out of it when the ground gets harder.

For example, I went on autopilot automatically when I left my house, and since my destination is the Market and it has a cobblestone street, I look out for the ground I step on.

I know, I know. It’s clever, right?

I don't know how long I've walked, but it definitely has been a few minutes. I believe that I should be at the Market by now.

Speak of the devil, the Market! What a coincidence.

Alright, first thing on the mental checklist is— oh wait! I need to buy Sunflower Seeds before I forget.

I glance to and fro, looking for The Collector; that's what I call him. His stall isn't that big, but he gets a lot of business, so he does not need to upgrade it. He says that he doesn't spend money on what he doesn't need. Wise words from a rather successful self-employed stallion, never thought I'd see the day; I even congratulated him.

I trot past a few stalls and venders. One of them was Carrot Top, a very old friend. I wave hello. I trot past for a few more yards.

Ah, there he is. Just as I expected, he’s setting up his stall.

I walk up to him, ”Good morning, Mister Rock!” He turned to me in surprise, ”May I help you?”

”Oh joy!” He exclaimed.

I giggle behind a hoof, ”Very funny, Mister Rock.”

He grins, ”Why, thank you, sweetheart,” He puffs up his sandy colored chest fur, which is commonly done by stallions to impress a mare. The more fur, the more ’impressive’, and he has quite a bit. What a flirt. Is he not a bit to old to be flirting? I muse to myself.

I hum. He does have quite the build, however. He's not too shabby in my opinion. Inward, I grin wickedly. But I won't tell him such things. Haha!

”I would like your help and company. But tell me, what do you need, beautiful?”

I smile, ”Thank you,” I grip one end of the stall while he grabs the opposite side, ”I just need some more Sunflower Seeds for this week,” Together, we lifted the stall’s wooden rooftop. Once we placed the legs and foundations the stall was able to stand on its own.

Ruby Rock grunts slightly, standing on his hind hooves and overall stabilizing the rest of the stall, ”You really like,” Another grunt, ”Sunflower Seeds, huh?”

I huff quietly, ”It’s for me and an old friend.”

He lands on all four hooves and turns to look at my expectant face, ”Friend? Which?” He chuckles, ”If I heard right, you've practically befriended the whole town, right?”

I playfully roll my eyes, ”He’s lovingly unique, and we are very good friends.”

He grabs a few bags of seeds and gos to the front of the stall. He chuckles again, ”I expected that, hon. You have a habit of attracting rather interesting and strange ponies and things, I've heard,” He opens one bag of seeds. Sunflower Seeds to be specific, ”You are rather strange yousel-” He suddenly froze and stopped talking, to his own credit. Good.

He slowly turns to me with a blank face. I blink in confusion, ”Are you alright, Mister Rock?”

He stays silent. I don't even think he's breathing. That's kind of alarming. The silence stretches, slight awkwardness and worry seeping into me each second. Happy chatter and hoofsteps are all my ears pick up in the background, but I can also hear the strange silence between us.

. . . Ten long seconds have passed as of right now. He hasn't been breathing for ten seconds. How did this happen again?

Okay, you know what? ”Mister Rock, what’s wro-”

He suddenly snapped out of his trance and interrupted me, ”Who is he?” He commanded me.

I blink, ”. . . Pardon me?”

Jealously painted his face, ”Who is he?” He repeated.

”I’m sorry?” I'm so confused. I just want to buy some Sunflower Seeds. . .

”Your friend?” He elaborates sharply, ”The stallion that you share your seeds with? Who is he?”

. . . Wait. I put two and two together. Is he. . ? No way!

I burst out laughing, a laugh that, when anyone and anything hears it, says that there was a massive misunderstanding.

Ruby blinks multiple times in surprise, ”Why are you laughing like that?” He asks. Apparently, he doesn't understand. How ironic.

I calm my laugh to a small amused chuckle, ”Ruby Rock,” I start, dropping the formality, ”Did I mention that my friend, the one that really likes Sunflower Seeds, is a charming wren? In other words, a small bird?”

Ruby blinks dumbly, swallowing the information, ”. . . Oh. I-I knew that.” His face is turning a lovely scarlett.

I smile at him, ”I know you did,” I lie.

He hurriedly set up his appetizing seed collection with me snickering behind him. He hobbles cutely back behind his stand and looks at me with pink cheeks. After a moment of his mouth opening and closing, he looks down, causing his fiery red mane to fall over his eyes. He mumbles in a soft voice, ”What did you n-need again?”

The flattering flirter has been deflated!

I smile and place four bits on the counter, ”Two pouches of Sunflower Seeds, please.”

”R-right,” He grabs two pouches and one of those long scoops from underneath the counter. He leans over the counter and carefully fills the pouches with Sunflower Seeds, seals them, then hoofs it over to me.

”Enjoy; happy to make business with you, sweetheart.” He says, flustered with embarrassment.

I grab the bags, place them in my saddle bag, and smile kindly at him, ”Thank you, Ruby,” I lower my volume, ”And don't worry, I won't tell anypony. I pinkie promise,” I felt a shiver crawl up my back.

Gratefulness washed his features, ”Thank you,” He whispers, ”Have a good day, beautiful.”

I turn and trot away from his stall, ”You too! I hope to see you next week, Mister Rock!”

His laughs echo within the street corner, ”I’ll be waiting! Goodbye!” I can imagine him waving a hoof.

Okay! I think as I trot down the street. It's been a nice morning so far, and hopefully, it stays that way.

Think fast, what's first on the list? Ribbons! And where are the ribbons? Back from where I came? Wonderful.

Time to go back. What a waste of time.

I turn on my hind leg’s frogs and start trotting toward the direction of my home. I move to the other side of the street, since going past Mister Rock again will be. . . strange, I suppose.

Mister Ribbons. He is such wonderfully quirky gentlestallion. Aside from Mister Brushed Palette, Long Ribbons is my favorite vendor. They even work right next to each other, lucky.

Mister Ribbons owns a small stall, but halls a large number of streamers and ribbons; while Mister Palette, he has a whole shop! I really like his shop too, it's so colorful!

My ears swivel subconsciously and I catch a sound. What sound? I'm not sure honestly, but I don't have any interest or care-

”H-Hey! Give that back!” A female voice screams.

I blink in surprise and look to the source of the yelling. So do then ponies around me.

”Somepony get that stallion! He stole a bundle of my carrots!” Yells. . . Carrot Top?

I let my eyes widen. ’Stole’? This early? What in Tartarus? Please pardon my language, but now that I think about it, that sound sounded like a struggle.

’’It's been a nice morning so far, and hopefully, it stays that way.’’ I'm cursed by my own words. Me and my ignorance. . .

Well, a robber and a cheater. Time to put this guy six feet under. . .

To my right, ponies are hurriedly clearing a path. I suspect that that's where he is running past.

If nopony is going to stop this guy, then I will. Plain and simple.

I open my large wings and drop Rainbow Dash’s lucky horseshoe, placing it in my saddle bag. I let out a single mighty flap. The air whips around me as I reach a few yards into the sky, being careful with my saddlebags. This is more than enough for a clear view.

Nopony has noticed me yet. That's good.

A running pony catches my attention. He is completely covered! The stallion is dressed in all black cloth; I can't even see his tail, never mind his colors.

The stallion is carrying a grey saddle bag and a large metal bat in his mouth. He eyes are narrowed and focused through his black mask, like he is in a life or death mission. How suiting.

Wait. I'd expect a pony to be kinda scared if one half of a fifty-fifty chance is death. . .

Yeah, me too.

Anyway, I grab my saddle bag and flap a mightier flap than last time. I’m zooming to him at this point. His ears perk up and his eyes light up, not literally, but he's very aware now.

He sharply looks up and gets a front row seat to Pain in the Face. Get tickets now! We have a special today!

I practically smack him over the head like he's destined to get this. Let's be honest, he does deserve this.

He lets out a painful ”OOF!” that everypony within earshot can clearly hear, and launches backward, crashing loudly onto a stall.

”My cabbages!” Screams a stallion in horrible distress.

I glide to the ground and land quietly. I look down to my saddle bag in hoof and blink.

Did I really hit him that hard? Oops. . .

I look at the ground next to me. There was his saddle bag. It itself is in bad condition and spilling out are it’s contents.

First, there was a large bundle of carrots, the item he had stolen. Second, there were a large number of items meant to heal somepony’s injuries, like rags and multiple creams. Third, three large canteens filled with what I assume is water.

I pause for a moment, still looking at his items.

Why would a pony need so many materials? This can help a small group of ponies for days!

I glance at the. . . bundle of carrots, then up at the dazed stallion. The look I see on his face; I know that expression. He looks defeated and disappointed.

. . . It almost looks like he got the death half.

I look back at the carrots with conflicted eyes and sigh.

’’I want to give you a second chance. . . Why? It's because they need you, we all do.’’

I trot to the stallion, now standing and wary, ”S-stay away from me! Don't m-move!” he stuttered, swinging his metal bat threateningly.

He's attempt at scaring didn't deter me. I simply continued trotting toward him.

It's pretty clear that a million alarms went crazy in his head, and starts acting like he's scared of other ponies.

”Stay away I s-said! Just g-go away!” he screams, backing up to the stall he crash landed on.

He has no escape, I noticed. A crowd of ponies surrounded us. They are all looking in fear, awe, and mild anger at us.

I hum quietly. Unsurprising.

He looks down in denial, ”Just! Just! J-just!” he repeats, until he finally acts out, ”Just go away!” He screams with all his courage and suddenly gallops at me with his metal bat overhead.

I on the other hoof, am just four yards away, meaning I have little time to react and act in this small circle, shaped by shocked ponies. My eyes widen, this is one of the reactions I had expected, but I didn't believe he would go down this path.

I hate it when I'm shoved into these situations, and hate is a very strong word.

My ears ring. Multiple sharp gasps erupt from the crowd of ponies surrounding us. Panicked hooves stomp my way as I stand.

My body tenses. His metal bat is swinging back and forth, meant to be delivered just for me. My legs bend.

The Stallions panicking hooves stop for just a moment. My offender jumps towards me, with his metal bat swinging at me.

The Stallion slows mid-air and the crowd quiets. The whistling in my ears stops abruptly as I quickly straighten my tense legs, causing me to jump above The Stallion. And the crowd wasn't quite any longer then.

My offender swings his bat at an empty space. Startled and unbalanced, he tumbles forward by his momentum. Yet, before he face plants onto the ground, I slam my hooves onto his back, giving him another crash landing.

”Gah!” The Stallion grunts. His grip on his metal bat loosens mid-fall and the bat lands right on his head. A loud ’knock!’ sounds out.

The bat bounces off his head and roles away from him.

I blink.

His metal bat, knocked him out.

. . . Ouch.

Author's Note

Are you enjoying my crapy comedy yet? Good to hear!

What was I going to say? Oh yeah, these first few chapters are just to lay a small foundation for the story. You, my dear readers, get to know the characters somewhat and familiarize yourself with the format. And I can get a grip on writing the story.

Bam! Full proof plan!

Have a good day!