Chapters Prologue and Exit: Rainbow Dash
Alone. That's what I was. All alone. Alone with six pets and more self-hatred than I have ever been able to handle. Tear after tear rolled down my face with no sign of stopping, as had been the case for at least an entire week. The more I wept, the more I hated my own weakness. The more I hated my own weakness, the worse I felt for myself, and the more I wept. It was a cruel cycle that showed no signs of stopping.
You see, life became meaningless slowly, as all my friends went off on their own matters one by one. Rainbow Dash went off with the Wonderbolts, her dream, fulfilled. It's great that she had the chance to do such a thing, but that's one-fifth of a void created in my soul. Applejack was called off on a family business trip. Two-fifths. Rarity got discovered as a fashion designer and is now neck-deep in clients. She's off in Canterlot. Three-fifths. Pinkie Pie now plans high-class parties for the wealthy, a much more busy job than you might think. How she matured enough to handle such a thing is beyond me. Four-fifths. Twilight went off to teach magic in Canterlot, her calling, her devotion. Complete.
The only thing they each left with me was their pets. “It's all you're good for, Fluttershy,” they may as well have said. “I mean, you may not have dreams and aspirations and great talent like the rest of us, but at least you can look after our pets while we're living the dreams you can't.” They'd be right. I have no talent that matters to anyone, I don't know of anypony looking for a "professional pet sitter." Rainbow Dash is going to get famous with the Wonderbolts. Rarity is going to give the world of fashion something to think about. Applejack is doing whatever she does with her extended family (I can only imagine it being loosely related to apples). Pinkie Pie is going to bring smiles to people everywhere with her parties. And Twilight is assisting the Princess herself at her magical school. Where does that leave me? Just their stupid Ponyville acquaintance who can take care of their stupid pets while they're off doing what they do best.
They're not alone. Rainbow Dash is with the Wonderbolts. Applejack is with her family. Rarity already has a name in Canterlot, so she likely knows people. Pinkie Pie is Pinkie Pie, she'll find friends wherever she goes. And Twilight is with the Princess and Spike. I am. I don't speak to anyone else in Ponyville, just them. And now they're gone. I can't fill the friendless void with animals like I used to. Now that I've actually experienced how friendship feels, I can't replace it with anything else.
I don't want to demonize my dear friends, so let me just show you how each of the events happened. Let's start with Rainbow Dash, as she was the first to go:
“OMYGOSHOHMYGOSHOMYGOSHOMYGOSH” Rainbow Dash yelled as she flew through the air, at nearly break-neck speeds. With this strange fit of infantile delight, this pegasus pony's weather duties were going unchecked. The importance of Rainbow Dash's duties didn't exist to her, at the moment, there was too much pent up excitement within her. Twilight Sparkle, becoming gnawed past her breaking point, leaned her head out of her tree house and shouted “Rainbow Dash! Can you please quiet down?! I'm behind on my studies and I really gotta hit the books!”
“I can't!” hollered the rainbow pegasus, still enthusiastic beyond control. She continued to scream her fit of OMYGOSH's as she flew throughout the air some more.
“Could you at least fly away from my library?” Twilight groaned, not being subtle in the least with her bad mood.
“Sure thing!” Rainbow Dash said in between OMYGOSH's and flew off in a random direction. The location she let it all out didn't matter to her. Her journey left her somewhere in the general area of Sugarcube corner. Pinkie Pie, curious as to what the commotion was and why she wasn't a part of it, wandered out of the bakery, with flour-covered hooves and a face splattered with batter, and stared up at the pegasus pony.
“Heya, Dash!” called the pink earth pony.
“Hey Pinkie!” called back Rainbow Dash inbetween her fangirlish squeals.
“What's all the hub-bub?” Pinkie said, innocently.
Rainbow Dash then lowered herself to the ground, panting excessively. “T-the Wonderbolts...” she said, before stopping to catch her breath.
“The Wonderbolts!” Pinkie hollered, matching Rainbow Dash's earlier enthusiasm.
“The Wonderbolts!” Rainbow Dash called back, as it was all she could think of saying at the moment.
Pinkie called the same thing back, and the cycle repeated itself for what seemed like forever, until Pinkie finally interjected with “What about them?” turning her head to the side.
“The Wonderbolts... they... they...” fangirl squeal “they... they...” another one, this process repeating itself for awhile as well.
“What'd they do?” asked the confused earth pony. “Oh no wait! Lemme guess! I love guessing games!” Pinkie then put her hoof to her chin in a standard thinking-man position, getting a fair amount of flour in the general area of her mouth. Dash was still hyperventilating and trying to continue with her explanation.“Did they...” Pinkie started before being interrupted with: “They accepted me! OMYGOSHOMYGOSH! I'm IN the Wonderbolts! Can you believe it?!” which came from none other than Rainbow Dash. After giving the last sentence a second of thought, Rainbow Dash jumped up and down in a manner not unfamiliar to Pinkie.
Pinkie jumped identically to her pegasus pal for a notable amount of time, before coming to a crashing realization. “I'd love to bounce with ya Dash, but the Cakes have a really big order they need my help with. Sorry!” Pinkie said before bouncing back into Sugarcube Corner.
Rainbow Dash returned to the skies, continuing her OMYGOSH craze until she could no more. “Okay...” she said, after practically hours of OMYGOSH “I've gotta tell everypony about this! They'll be so happy for me!”
Rainbow Dash then called together her group of friends in a standard meeting. Pacing back and forth in front of them for awhile, letting the tension rise, before finally speaking. “Hey guys,” she used to break the ice, “there's some very important news I've got to tell you all,” she started, before being interrupted by Pinkie Pie. “Oh! I think I know what it is~” she said in a sing-song voice, pushing her head in what seemed to be an impossible distance forward and tilting it ever so slightly to the left.
“Right... anyway, you know the...” Rainbow Dash began, clearing her throat before moving on to avoid any moments “Wonderbolts...”
“Yeah” said the rest of Rainbow Dash's group of friends, trying to match the dramatic tension that Rainbow Dash seemed as if she was trying to put forth.
“Well, you see, they...” Rainbow Dash began, stopping periodically. Whether it was to add a sense of “suspense” or to resist going into fits of OMYGOSH's was difficult to discern by the rest of the group, “they accepted me as one of their own. I am now a Wonderbolt.” The hugest of huge grins then ran across Rainbow Dash's face as she said the last line. The title felt too nice to comprehend.
“Awwwwww! That was your news?!” cried Pinkie Pie, lowering her head as she tilted it to the side. “I thought you were gonna tell us all about how you defeated the alien menace that's been attacking Cloudsdale!” she yelped, raising her hoof high in the air, raising her head and fixing her posture so she stood taller than normal. This garnered many confused stares from the rest of the group.
“That's great!” rang out Twilight's voice, ignoring what Pinkie Pie had just bellowed. “Sorry I yelled at you earlier.”, she said, in a somewhat hushed manner.
“No prob,” the pegasus pony responded with.
“But won't yuh hafta move away? The Wonderbolts don't exactly operate outtuh Ponyville, ya know.”, said Applejack, inquisitively.
“Oh... I hadn't thought about that...” said Rainbow Dash, an army of sadness now invading her living land of make-believe.
“Don't worry about that,” said Rarity, “you can always write to us little Ponyville folk."
“Yeah, but then I won't get to see you guys,” Rainbow Dash said, still trying to fight off the army of sadness, lowering her head as her internal arguing reached a climax.
“This is the Wonderbolts, darling. You can't let this opportunity pass you by. There won't be any more like it,” chimed in the white unicorn once again, walking closer to Rainbow Dash and lifting her head from its lowered state.
“I know... but...” Rainbow Dash said, lowering her head once again.
“Look, we may be far apart, but we'll always be friends,” said the purple unicorn, walking over to Rainbow Dash and putting one leg over her shoulder, “And like Rarity said, you could always write to us.”
"I guess you guys are right," Rainbow Dash said, taking this as the initiative to close the debate box, lifting her head to its original position. After a short pause, “Okay, I guess it's settled then. And when we're not practicing or doing anything, I could always come down and see you guys,” she continued, her voice having an odd mix of sentimentalism and enthusiasm. This sparked something in Pinkie Pie, who bounced into the middle of all the ponies and pulled them all close to start a group hug, smiling unimaginably wide.
Rainbow Dash, with luggage in hoof and enough enthusiasm to put Pinkie Pie to shame, then flew off to live her dream with the Wonderbolts. The only thing she left was her pet turtle, Tank, which now made residence within Fluttershy's cottage.
And, gone, as quick as the wind. Figures that the loyal one would be the first to go. Credit where credit is due, I suppose, she seemed the most hesitant about leaving up there with Pinkie Pie, but she showed no signs of sadness when she did. She just left, without any other word than the ones we shared in that meeting...
Does she think of us now? I guess there isn't an us anymore. Does she know that? I don't know if anyone's told her that everyone else has split up to. Maybe if I did, she'd kick back into "loyal" mode and speed back to Ponyville. I doubt it. She's too busy being a Wonderbolt. Too busy being a part of the best flying group known to ponykind. I'm sure she loves it. I don't.
I don't mean to be unsupportive. My friend is a Wonderbolt, her dream, the most wonderful thing that can happen to her. That's great and wonderful and any other word that means higher amounts of good for her, but not for me. Do I sound selfish? Yes. Am I just saying how I feel? Yes. I don't blame Rainbow Dash. She's got the talent and the ambition, the confidence and the presence, she's got what it takes to live her dream. I wish with all of my heart and all of my soul and all of my mind to have any of that. Have talent, have ambition, have confidence, have presence, have a dream. I have none of it.
I've received a single letter from her in the month or so that she's been away. Here are its contents in full:
Hey Fluttershy
Being a Wonderbolt is AWESOME!
Your Pal, Rainbow Dash.
Not exactly what you'd want to receive from your friend, now off somewhere else, is it? Maybe I should be grateful she sent anything at all, she is a Wonderbolt after all. One of the best fliers in Equestria. The big blue skies above marvel at her displays of sheer speed and athleticism. The crowds watch in awe as she performs daring dives, striking spins, and thrilling tricks. Creating a marvelous display that everypony wants to see. Who wants to see what I do? Nopony, that's who. And she got there because of her ambition.
Ambition. Just one of the many things I lack.
Applejack's departure wasn't as glamorous as Rainbow Dash's or anypony else's, admittedly, nor will her absence be extended. Perhaps I can find solace in the fact that she, like me, isn't exactly doing anything 'higher', per say, and will be back to stupid old Ponyville in due time. However, jealousy rears it's ugly head nonetheless. She has family. A family who cares. A family who loves her. Whom she loves. Mutual feelings of a type of caring completely foreign to me. Is loving your family like loving your friends? Is it like loving animals? I don't know. I never knew.
Not to mention, ponies come from far and wide to drink her cider. Eat her pies. Taste her pastries. Candy apples, apple strudel, apple cobbler, apple juice, apple stew, whatever. She makes it. They ingest it. They love it. Nopony loves what I do.
I don't want to put any blame on Applejack. The bitterness is making it come off as such, inevitably. She was really the only one who left involuntarily. She has a duty to uphold and she can't let her family down. What's more important, family, or friends? Is her small group of five (or I suppose, at the time, four) friends as important to her as her family? Should it be? Just one of the many things I don't understand about the dynamics of being social. Being a part of something. Being loved. Loving.
Being this bitter is giving me a headache, so let's move on to the story of her leaving.
Applejack bucked her last apple tree for the day, and made her way inside the house to enjoy a well-deserved rest. Before she even opened the door, she heard the voice of Apple Bloom. The familiar voice sounded like it was arguing with someone, but about what exactly was muffled by the door. The voice with which she was doing so was not clearly audible. Applejack opened the door, slowly, in an attempt to grasp the situation before tackling it.
"But you never let me go with you guys! Ah'm a big pony, just like you!" yelled Apple Bloom, her voice's tone of spite not matching her adorable appearance. The bow atop her small head shook as her head bobbed furiously with childish rage.
"Nope means nope," said Big Macintosh, clearly adamant on not continuing the argument.
"What's the problem here?" Applejack said, preparing herself to give one of her big-sisterly lectures.
"Big Mac just told me that you and him are gonna go on a family business trip, but he said ah can't go!" Apple Bloom said, stomping her hooves into the ground in a fit of childish frustration.
"Why would ya wanna go?" Applejack asked, actually completely unaware of what the answer could be.
"'Cause ah'm a big pony! And being with mah family might help me git mah cutie mark! I'nt that how you got yours?" the little pony responded with.
"Ah got my cutie mark when ah came back to Sweet Apple Acres, sugarcube," Applejack said, feeling the need to clarify that first before going onto the bigger subject at hand, "and ya aren't a big pony yet, Apple Bloom. When ya mature up, then you can be a big pony."
"But ah am mature!" Apple Bloom protested.
Applejack and Big Mac exchanged a shaking of the head and a glance before Applejack moved on with "Listen lil filly, everypony goes through this. Nopony expects ya to be a big pony just yet. Yuh should have fun while yer youth lasts, 'cause yuh'll miss it dearly once it's gone."
Apple Bloom looked her sister in the face before letting a sigh escape her lips and lowering her head in defeat. "Ah guess yer right," she said, starting to retreat with a white flag raised.
"Always am," Applejack said, mostly to herself, with a grin of innocent smugness. After giving herself a few delicious moments to enjoy the surrender of her little sister and let the internal victory trumpets blair, she went to say "Now, Big Mac, what was Apple Bloom talkin' about? What about a business trip?"
Big Mac, silently, showed Applejack the letter he received. Applejack read it, also silently. After completing that simple task, she turned to Big Mac and said "This is kind'uv important, isn't it?" sounding contemplative and dejected.
"Eeyup," Big Macintosh replied, dryly.
"Welp, ah'm gonna have to break to news ta everypony," Applejack said, her friends being the first thing brought to mind, whom she valued as equally as her family. A moment of silence followed this realization, Big Mac and Applejack standing awkwardly in their previous positions. "Right," Applejack began, "So I'm'a go do that," warranting a silent nod of understanding from Big Mac.
Applejack, in the same way as Rainbow Dash, then called together a meeting with the rest of her four friends. No pacing or other silliness this time, however, Applejack got right to the point with saying “Mah extended family needs mah help, so they called Big Mac and ah off for some business affairs. Ah hope that's okay with y'all.”
Pinkie Pie groaned and said “You didn't give me enough time to guess what your news was! That's not fair!” Applejack just smiled, it was just Pinkie being Pinkie.
“Oh, alright,” said Twilight, being visibly worried that her group of friends was gradually dwindling.
“Don't worry, sugarcube. Ah'll be back quicker than I wrangled that group of Parasprites,” Applejack said, trying to ease the worries of her group of friends. It wasn't technically a lie, there was no truth to be known yet. The rest of group didn't let up their sad expression.
“Why're you all so sad?” Pinkie Pie said, bouncing close to Applejack, “Applejack would never lie to us! She'll be back super-duper quick!” This caused a few faint smiles from the group, but more in an attempt to stop any feelings of guilt Applejack might be generating.
“Of course. And family is important,” Rarity said, fondly remembering the Sisterhoof Social event, “You could always write to us, like Rainbow Dash.”
"Rarity's right everypony," Twilight said, accompanying Rarity as the voice of reassurance once again, "Applejack, you'll go see your family and write when you can, right?"
“Of course,” said Applejack. “I'll see y'all later, right?” All of the ponies nodded in unison. With this, Pinkie jumped into the middle of the group once more and initiated a group hug, smiling less wide than she had the last time. The smile, while still impressively wide, gradually deteriorated over time, as even Pinkie Pie couldn't find the joy in losing friends.
Applejack boarded the train with Big Macintosh, each of them holding a large amount of luggage in each hoof. Applejack waved to her group of friends with a tear in her eye. The only thing left behind was her pet dog, Winona, whom she left with Fluttershy.
It seems even honest Applejack tells a white lie every now and then. It's been a month, as she left practically immediately after Rainbow Dash did. That's not exactly what I imagined when she likened the speed of her return to the speed that she 'wrangled' the parasprites. Obviously, the statement was not literal, that I do not need to be told. I may not be a genius when it comes to the subjects of friendships or other types of relationships, but I can tell when there's a metaphor in the air. Do I expect too much? How much should I expect? Am I supposed to be lenient with this sort of thing?
I wonder if she feels guilty for lying like that. Should she? Is it really a big deal? Is it better to lie and save feelings, or tell the truth however it may hurt? She is Applejack, the most honest of ponies and the most dependable of friends. "Honestly is the best policy" and all that. Was it really a lie? I guess it isn't 'technically' a lie, but the same thought process applies. Does it? Is saying things you don't know to be true the same as lying?
I should start to keep track of how many questions I ask myself and don't know answer to. I can only imagine the number would eventually become depressingly high. Probably best not to think about it. What you don't know (or choose not to know) can't hurt you, after all.
Should I be this bitter? I guess I'm only this bitter because it all happened at once, that's not their fault. Am I being selfish? I do seem to be thinking about myself a lot recently. Am I being unreasonable?
More questions. It always leads to a question. I just don't know. The inner workings of this strange invention we like to call "friendship" confuses me the more I think about it. I don't know how I should feel. I don't know what I should think. What I should do. None of it. None.
I've yet to receive any word from Applejack. Can't imagine why not, Rainbow Dash, the Wonderbolt, found time in her schedule to send me a letter, as unsatisfying as it was. However, I did send her a letter because of a certain ailment that fell over Winona. It's not something I've seen or heard of before, so it could be something serious. And I hate myself for feeling this way, but I couldn't care less. I simply care for her out of principal and tradition.
Now this, I know. I shouldn't let my bitterness towards Applejack translate to her innocent dog. Why does it? Winona is always happy and is constantly playing with the other pets and animals in my possession. She can get a little aggressive, but I guess that's just her being a dog. Why can't I stop myself from feeling indifference towards the dog's suffering, because of the bitterness I'm feeling towards Applejack? Am I cruel? Is this natural?
Why do I hate my friends for this so much? I don't want to. I shouldn't. It's not their fault that they're all talented, or in Applejack's case, responsible. I guess I'm just tired of hating myself, so I'm focusing the overabundance of negative energy on others. Sounds logical.
I need to change the subject. I'm starting to feel like a monster.
Next suitable subject, I suppose, would be myself. I'll use great, kind, honest, wonderful Applejack as a springboard. She has a family. A large one. A connected one. I recall her trying to explain her family tree to me, it just turned into this huge cluster in my brain. The only ones I care to remember are Big Macintosh, Granny Smith, and Apple Bloom, as they're the only ones relevant in my every day life.
Now, what I want to think about concerning myself, is my family. Or I guess, my lack thereof. I have no memories of my family. Did I ever have one? I must have. Or else I wouldn't exist, obviously. They must've meant very little to me if I can't even remember if they existed. Is that selfish? It's got to be. Any person who isn't selfish would remember who their family was or is. Which one is it for me?
All of this thinking and hating is making me tired. Hopefully I'll wake up tomorrow to find that this was all just one long, horrible nightmare.
A small, yellow-coated, pink-maned filly lay curled up on the floor, practically immobile after her long day of excitement and enjoyment. The young filly closed her eyes, before forcing them open again, letting herself get trapped in the long, winding staircase of this cycle for what felt like hours. Eventually, she couldn't fight the urge anymore, tumbling down the staircase into a deep sleep, and kept her eyes closed. A tall, lean mare with a light-pink coat and an equally light-blue mane sat over the small filly, stroking her mane gently with an expression of loving fondness.
"H-huh," the filly let out, finally coming to after minutes of dozing. "Was I... Was I asleep?" she then asked.
"Yes," whispered the mare, her voice resonating with a tone of genuine caring that seemed nearly unreal, "but that's okay. You've had quite the day." While she continued to stroke the young pony's mane, her heart filled with a feeling of love and pride that she had only dreamed of feeling.
"Yeah..." said the filly, fondly remembering the events that took place in the day. The sleepiness invaded her voice and speech, and she began to doze off once more.
"Wait," started the mare, lowering herself even closer to the ground than she was previously, "Get on my back." With this command, the mare laid her long wings along the ground, attempting to grant easy access to the place she wished for the filly to go.
"Okay," the filly said, doing so, gingerly stepping on the mare's wings. A wince escaped the mare once the filly's hoof made full contact with her wing, but her pained expression was swiftly replaced with a warm smile in the direction of the filly. Upon reaching the back of the mare, the filly almost immediately fell asleep once again. Making sure not to awake the filly, the mare slowly walked, swaying her back as little as she could. When she reached the foot of the stairs, she stopped for a moment, thinking of what her plan of attack should be. Ever the clever one, the mare turned sideways and extended her wings outward to create a cradle. Upon reaching the top of the stairs, she resumed her journey and went back to her old, slow pace of travel.
"We're here," she said upon arrival to the young filly's room. The young filly slowly opened her eyes, trying to shake herself awake for a brief moment. She stared at the mare with half-closed eyes, who raised her glance and gave her a smile, before fluttering off the mare's back and onto her bed. When the filly was safely in the bed, the mare took the sheets with her mouth and covered the filly, so as to create an optimal sleeping environment.
Then, the mare started to walk away, before hearing "Wait," from the young filly's mouth.
"Yes?" asked the mare.
"Sing a lullaby for me," the filly requested in a childish pleading tone, ending her request with a pair of dog eyes and a "please?"
"You know I couldn't say no to you," the mare said, making her way back bedside. A quiet 'ahem' and a moment of silence preceded the lullaby.
"Hush now, quiet now, it's time to lay your sleepy head," the mare began, her delicate voice resounding beautifully through the small room. The filly made gentle noises of satisfaction as she began to doze off yet again.
"Hush now, quiet now, it's time to go to bed," the mare continued, the filly slowly entering sleep.
"Drifting off to sleep, the exciting day behind you." The filly was just about fully asleep.
"Drifting off to sleep, let the joy of dream land find you." Completely asleep.
The mare then fell silent. Her mouth continued to move, but her beautiful, sweet voice was replaced by a dead silence. As she silently sang, she began to disappear at a rapid rate. It was only seconds before she was no more.
I guess wishing for a whole month's worth of suffering to disappear in one night was a bit too large of a request. Don't know what convinced me it was even possible, but I laid awake for at least an hour, if not more, praying. Praying that this would all be over. That life could just go back to the way it was. Back to happier times where everypony was here with me, in stupid old Ponyville. Happier times where the six of us hung out. Played games. Solved problems. Caused problems. Whatever. Just something. Anything.
Alas, that was all nothing but wishful thinking. Wishful, selfish thinking. With the exception of Applejack, they're all doing things they've always wanted to do. Be a Wonderbolt. Become a big-time fashion designer. Make everypony smile. Teach the wonders of magic. If I were a good friend, would I want to tear that away from them? Would I want them to stop living their dream and come back to this dumb old town with me? The answer is no. I shouldn't. I should want them to be the best they can be. Live life to the fullest. Reach for the stars. I should. I don't. Why not?
This again. It always comes to this. Why do I feel the way I do? Why can't I help but feel this way? Have I stooped so low? Question. Question. Question. It just never ends.
I need to change the subject. But what to? I refuse to speak about that dream. The only feelings it evokes are negative, and I can't begin to understand why. Whatever the explanation could be, I will not make myself have to suffer through that. I've done more than enough crying recently.
But I guess I can't really win in this case, as the only other subject is my friends, and the next would be Rarity.
So, Rarity. Lovely, generous Rarity. She's off being a fashion designer in Canterlot. How wonderful.
I can't keep up that facade. Trying to pretend that I'm happy that I have no friends anymore doesn't work. I may as well let it all out. It's not like I'm hurting anypony with my contained bitterness.
Rarity left in the biggest 'blaze of glory,' I guess you could say. At least she gave the remnants of her friends something to remember her by. I guess that's why she's the element of generosity. Points to her for sticking to her guns to the end. Still, why did she need to go over to Canterlot? I've never been a businesspony, so I can't say I know how the process works, but she's never seemed to have trouble with shipping her clothing elsewhere from Ponyville. Perhaps she just wanted out. I don't blame her.
Whatever the case, she's gone. Whatever she did before she left doesn't lighten the blow or change the fact. She's gone. Just like everypony else. She's off designing for the higher class of Canterlot. The ponies she's always wanted to be with. The type of pony she's always wanted to be. Good for her. Does she even care about her Ponyville friends anymore? Should we even be a speck on the radar of some big-time fashion designer in Canterlot? Would we just tarnish her reputation?
In reality, I'm the only Ponyville friend anymore. She could brag about all her other friends. The truth would require a tiny bit of bending in Applejack's case, but I'm sure you can make "business affairs" sounds good when cut some way. She knows a Wonderbolt, a professional party planner, an assistant to the Princess herself, and some stupid, talentless pegasus in Ponyville who looks after her cat. Why couldn't she just take Opal with her? She did on her last trip to Canterlot. Perhaps she feared she would be too busy to look after her. I guess Opal is better off with me, anyway. She never really did seem particularly enamored with Rarity. That's something I've got on her, I guess.
There's not really much use trying to scrounge up any ways in which I could be, by any stretch of the word, "superior" to my friends. It's quite apparent now that that isn't the case.
Enough self-depreciation for now. Onto Rarity's story of departure:
“Mail!” cried a shaky male voice, squeaking and cracking as it tried to find its bearing, as Rarity added the finishing touches to a formal gown she had been working on for her own amusement. “I wonder what that could be for,” she said as she walked toward the door, opening it delicately. The young earth pony mail carrier stood with a wide smile, holding the mail outward to the white unicorn, batting his eyes lightly and staring at the unicorn with a flaring admiration. Awkwardly, but politely, Rarity smiled back at the young stallion, meeting eyes in a friendly, but no more, way. Rarity took the card using simple levitation magic and began to walk back toward her work.
As an afterthought, Rarity laid the letter down lightly and grabbed a few bits using similar magic. The young stallion was walking away slowly, so he was easily in earshot. She half-shouted "For your troubles, sir," and tucked the bits in the mail carrier's saddlebag. He turned quickly, mouth agape in a manner that Rarity was not too unfamiliar with. She simply waved and smiled before closing her door and getting back to work.
Due to the handsome gold-tinted embroidery that lined the letter's envelope, Rarity thought to leave it for after finishing her gown. If it was as important as the overly fancy envelope made it appear, it would serve as little more than a distraction for the time being. “Done!” she sang, admiring her handiwork, “I must say, Rarity, you have outdone yourself.” Content, Rarity stroked her mane lightly before turning her attention to the letter she had received. Making sure to not damage the envelope, Rarity gently opened the letter. After completing this simple task, she tucked the envelope away for admiration at a later date. She then began to read the letter.
Upon finishing, the words on the page set in, causing the letter to drop the floor and Rarity's eyes to widen. “Fancypants...” she stuttered, trying to find some type of grasp on the words that she had just read “he... he got me discovered?! I can't believe it!” Rarity then proceeded to bounce around her boutique in a way that did not match her maturity or composure. “But-” she began, “what about my friends? I can't just leave them...” Rarity pondered how to break the news to them, gently. An opportunity like this was not one she could simply pass up. “Well, if I'm going to go away, I might as well go off with style,” Rarity said, reaching a conclusion. “I'll do what I do best. Their Gala gowns are just so out of date. There's a whole new style, after all. I'll make them all new dresses!” With this, Rarity got to work at speeds that astounded even her.
“There!” she said, “Done!” Rarity stood, marveling at the sheer beauty that she had just produced. “I stand corrected, Rarity. This has got to be your best work yet!”
With a heavy heart, Rarity called what remained of her group of friends to her boutique to give them the news. A large curtain was used to conceal the dresses that she was to give to her friends.
“Girls,” Rarity began, trying to hide the pleasure she held deep down, “I regret to inform you that I must make my leave to Canterlot.”
“What for?” Pinkie inquired, in a tone that seemed almost impossibly sad to come out of such a pony.
Rarity, suddenly overcome with much more guilt that she had been feeling moments ago, continued “You all remember Fancypants, yes?” They nodded, “Well, you see, he has a friend that's large in the designing business. He showed some of my work to him, and he was was so impressed that he demanded my designs to be in his new line! He even said that he's going to want my assistance with his future lines! Can you believe it?”
“Oh, Rarity, that's...” Twilight began, matching Pinkie's level of sadness, but hiding it with a tad more finesse, “that's great! I'm so happy for you!”
“Now, I don't want to just leave you guys without something to remember me by, so I made you all...” Rarity then pulled the curtains apart and said “These!”
Excited chatter came from the three friends that remained, “They look great!” Twilight said, “That's so me!” screamed Pinkie.
“I'm so glad you love them, I worked so hard on them. I'd hate to just leave without giving you anything. And don't worry, I will never forget to write to you girls,” Rarity said, a faint grin creeping itself, slowly, across her face. The guilt still laid in her heart, but she pushed it away so that she left her friends with a smile. Pinkie, yet again, jumped into the middle of the remaining ponies and stretched her forelegs out for another group hug. When tears threatened to escape from Pinkie's eyes, she slammed them shut, and put on a smile.
Rarity levitated her excessive amounts of luggage and made her way off to Canterlot, the tears coming from her eyes ruining her masterfully applied eye make-up. Not once did she look back. The only thing she left behind was her pet cat, Opal, who was currently sleeping in Fluttershy's cottage.
Thank you ever so much for the dress, Rarity. It's lovely, it really is. It's too bad I'll likely never use it. What events could I possibly go to? After the catastrophic failure that the Gala was, we're probably not going to be going to any others. What other events would I possibly ever attend? And not to be unappreciative, but it tugs rather awkwardly at the waist, and doesn't allow for very much movement.
But I guess that's what Rarity's all about. Flare over practicality. Style over comfort. Maybe that's what ponies like. Maybe that's why she's in the big time now. Canterlot upper-class and not, in her words, a "little Ponyville folk."
Maybe I could become her right-hand-pony. I was always decent at sewing, after all. According to Applejack I possess a "freaky knowledge" of it. But then I'd be leaving these stupid pets, and they'd probably all get upset that I wasn't doing my "duty as a good friend" or something riddled with an equally disgusting amount of double-standards.
Speaking of stupid pets, I have decided to care for Winona in her sickness with genuine concern, as I have decided that Applejack is now my favorite friend. She did leave unwillingly after all, and isn't necessarily gone for any definition of the word forever. The only thing I'm missing from her would be a letter.
Now that I think about it, I did receive a letter from Rarity. I guess that gives her a few more points. I should tally those up and decide who garners my sympathy the most. To make up for lost time, Rainbow Dash gets one point for being somewhat hesitant about leaving, one point for establishing the fact that she'll make plans to come back when she has free time (whether or not she will follow through has yet to be seen), and half of a point for sending a letter (more would have been given if the contents weren't miniscule). Applejack gets one point for not choosing to leave, one point for attempting to soften the blow of the news with a lie (still bitter about the fact she did so in the first place), and one point for not leaving to do anything "higher." Rarity gets one point for giving us stuff as we left, and one point for sending a letter. That leaves the current tallies at: Rainbow Dash: Two and a half. Applejack: Three. Rarity: Two.
I'll make this a game. It'll be the closest thing to fun that I've had since everypony left.
Anyway, onto Rarity's letter:
Dearest Fluttershy,
A million apologies for the lack of letters I have sent you, I've just been so busy that I haven't found time to send you any. But do not worry your pretty little head, there hasn't been a single moment that I wasn't thinking about my friends. I do hope you're in good spirits. Have you all been doing well in Ponyville since I left?
Sincerely, Rarity.
P.S. I apologize for any troubles Opal may be causing you. She can be quite the handful.
She wrote that she's been thinking of us, but I can't even begin to believe that for a single moment. Does she recall the time that she got caught up in Canterlot during Twilight's birthday? This is no different, except only this time, there's nopony to go over there and slap her back into reality like there was last time. Thank you kindly for complimenting the prettiness of my head, that's why I was the one who was taken to "shine all across Equestria." One more thing I can hold over my friends. It's too bad I hated that more than Rarity hated seeing me get more attention than her. Just have to take what I can get, I suppose.
I received this letter rather recently. Three days ago, if my memory serves correctly. I guess no one informed her that there is no "you all" anymore. It would just be "you." So, I guess they're not keeping in very good touch. If they are, they're not listening very well. That doesn't make me feel any better. If they're drifting apart, what's the likelihood things could just seamlessly flow back to the way it used to be?
I'm going to tuck the cynical part of me away and take a nap after I check up on Winona. The soothing embrace of sleep is the only thing I enjoy anymore.
A young filly waywardly meandered the halls of her small cottage, startled awake due to a horrid nightmare. She stumbled about, seeking any type of comfort. The storm that raged relentlessly outside only worsened her fear, and with each lightning flash and thunder crack, the filly cowered and shook before steeling her resolve and moving again. As she turned a nondescript corner, she heard a familiar voice, with a foreign tone to it. Since the owner of the voice could supply the comfort the filly desired, she moved in the general direction of the voice. As
"I won't let you do that to our daughter," huffed the voice the filly had come to know as caring and benevolent. She had never heard it sound so remorseful, so hateful, so sad. The filly had just then reached the doorway to the room in which the owner of the voice was currently residing. She crept her head into the room to see what was happening. With the help of a flash of lightning, she saw a quick image of a mare and a stallion, the former standing tall in the center and the latter sitting in a bed. Fearing one of their wandering eyes to catch sight of her, the filly quickly recoiled back, hiding against the framework of the doorway.
"Our daughter? Try your daughter," replied a stallion's voice. This voice was one the filly heard before, but no concrete image of the owner was ever set in her mind. He continued, "'sides. I hate you as much as you hate me. It would be for the best."
"We have to stay together. You don't know what a marital split can do to a child's psychological well-being."
"Using fancy words doesn't change my mind, honey," the sound of multiple hooves touching the floor was then heard. "We've been over for Celestia knows how long. Why don't we just make it official?"
"We need to stick together for the family's sake."
"That's not convincing me."
"You know I can't provide for this family alone."
"So, let me get this straight."
"Okay..."
"Right, so: the only reasons for you insisting I stick around is to save the 'psychological well-being' of a foal I didn't want to have, and so that you can mooch off of my paycheck?"
"If you have to put it so harshly..."
"What other way is there to put it?" A long, awkward pause followed this question. The only sound made was the floor's creaking. "Thought so. I'm gone."
Another long pause. The sounds of movement were the only ones the filly could here. "I don't know why I ever loved you," the mare's voice said after many long moments.
"Don't try to pull at my heart-strings with your stupid guilt trips. It only worked when I was young and stupid." Another long pause. "Well, maybe you're just the only mare around easy enough to love this sad excuse for a stallion. It must have felt good that one night. That was the only time there was ever love," he continued, his voice heightening in volume and gaining a poisonous ring as it continued to speak.
The mare did not respond. The only sound that she produced was a sorrowful sniff.
"Crying again? You're just about as useless as that pathetic daughter of yours," the stallion said. The only response was a myriad of sniffs and sobs. The brief moment of silence that followed was broken when a loud bucking sound resounded throughout the house, followed by a skid and a thud.
"Pathetic," the stallion muttered. The normal response of sobs and sniffs was replaced with full-on crying. The sound of a somewhat heavy frame getting into bed was then heard by the filly, who sat frozen in place, leaned on the framework of the doorway. She gradually moved her head around the corner once more in attempt to grasp what had happened. She saw the mare sprawled across the floor, shaking heavily as sob after sob escaped her person. The stallion sat in bed, staring down at the mare with a remorseless look of satisfaction. The mare appeared to grow transparent as time went on, fading away slowly, her sobs fading with her. It had been only minutes until she had completely disappeared. Time felt frozen for the young filly, who only sat in shock, eyes locked on the place the mare's body had been. The stallion shook his head, and caught sight of the young filly out of the corner of his eyes.
"You," he began, rising from the bed, and trudged toward the filly with little rush, his robust frame now apparent to the young filly. He looked down at the filly for a long moment, with a look of sheer and unbridled spite. The filly looked up, shaking uncontrollably as her legs failed her in her attempts to flee. After a long moment of silence, the filly no longer felt the floor beneath her hooves, and felt nothing but the faint wind of movement against her face. Whatever action led to her sudden ability to fly was unknown in the pitch black darkness of the hallways. The only thing she heard was the steadily slow beating of hooves against the wooden floor.
After many painfully long minutes of noiselessness, the filly was then dropped into bed, the wind being blown out of her small lungs as her body connected with the mattress. Covers hit her face as they were thrown over her with little care. A sternly commanded "Now go to sleep," were the last words she heard for the night.
I've been staring in this mirror for some ungodly amount of time. I just... I just can't recognize the pony staring back at me. Its mane is unkempt and messy, slung over the right side of its face (or perhaps the left, my mind is too foggy to attempt to get my sides right, especially with the inversion effect of mirrors). Its eyes are flaring red, huge bags taking residence under them. Its nostrils are covered in some type of crusty dry substance. It looks dead. Unhappy. Unloved. No part of me believes that this pony used to be me. It used to be a happy pony. A happy pony who would have fun with its friends. Be loved. Love.
With every fiber of my being I want to stop looking at this mirror. But no matter how hard I try, my eyes find its way back to the reflective glass. It just... I can't... I don't want to believe that what's staring back at me. But it is. It is me. In all its lack of glory.
It stares back with a look of disgust. I can't tell if that's me looking back on what I used to be, or me looking at what I am now, but the pony I'm staring at stares back with nothing but disgust. Its drooping, nearly crimson-red eyes pierce my soul. I only wish I knew what it was thinking.
Now I'm just starting to sound delusional.
And those dreams. Whatever they are, they're swiftly robbing me of my sanity. Not so much the contents, but the reactions they receive from me. Every single time the inkling of a thought concerning them crosses my mind I dissolve into sobs. My eyes are no longer able to generate tears, however, so it's more so a painful and dry heaving kind of thing. Not a lot of fun.
Does whatever supernatural power that decides fate hate me? Do I deserve this? Was there some kind of wrong I never righted that lead to this? Is it simply karma working its magic? I've been a good pony, I think. I've been saying please, thank you, you're welcome. I've been polite. I've helped my friends. I'm never rude to anypony, don't have the strength to be. I don't understand why this had to happen.
There has to be some facade I can put up that will fool myself. Paint some kind of smile on my face and pretend nothing's wrong. Nothing is wrong, after all, right? They're all doing what they've always wanted to do. They're having fun. They're happy. I'm happy for them. Happy, yes, that's the word. Couldn't be happier. I have these pets, right? They could be my friends. I love animals, after all. Caring for them is my special talent, you know. They love me back. Of course. Yes.
They'll be my friends, and I'll be their friend. We can all be happy. Very happy. So happy, that it'll make all of my old friends jealous. They'll look back at how happy we are and how much fun we're having, and wish they were here. Of course.
Oh, I know. I could sew little clothes for the pets. I was always pretty good at sewing too, you know. I'll make them each little outfits and we could all be one big happy bunch of friends. And we'll be happy. I should get to that. It'll be fun. Fun, yes.
Oh wait, I have no materials to make any clothes. That's no good. I'll just go out and buy some, I'm sure the market is open today. Then I can make the little outfits. That will be fun. It will. Lots.
...
I'm going to forget I even began contemplating that.
Becoming delusional, and then tip-toeing into insanity? Fluttershy, you need to pull yourself together.
Moving on, I should probably get out more. Fresh air does a body good, after all. It'll be a nice break from all this moping. The weather outside today is lovely. Don't know what I'd do outside though. Maybe just play with the animals. I don't have the energy to do that, I'm just way too worn out.
Or I could go to the spa. I may not go as deep into the indulgence as Rarity, but I did enjoy our spa visits greatly.
That actually sounds wonderful. I'll do that later today.
But first, Pinkie Pie's story of leaving:
Pinkie Pie bounced about Sugarcube corner, enjoying one of her many babysitting endeavors with the baby Cakes. After the first time, they had certainly become much more manageable. A faint sound of a door opening and closing was able to be heard downstairs, so Pinkie Pie, using her superior logic-defying athletic abilities, bounced down the flight of stairs, not a single one being touched, and landed at the bottom of the stairs. The two young foals attempted to follow her, crawling on all fours. As she saw this, Pinkie bounced in a similar manner back up the stairs and set up the baby barrier at the edge of the stairs as she had been instructed. Waving fondly to the two babies, she bounced back down the stairs.
“Thank you so much Pinkie,” said Mrs. Cake, “We're so sorry to leave you with the babies so much lately. We've just been so busy.”
“No problemo! You know I love the babies and they love me!” Pinkie said, continuing to bounce, though now in place.
“Oh, Pinkie,” started Mr. Cake. He looked into his saddle bag for something he had been given earlier, “Somepony gave me this. He told me it was for a 'Pinkamena Diane Pie.'” Mr. Cake got a letter out and handed it to the bouncing earth pony.
“That's me! I wonder who it could be from.” Pinkie exclaimed, putting a strange enthusiastic emphasis on the word 'me'. Pinkie ripped the envelope apart with blinding speed, reading the note as fast as she could. She threw it in a random direction and burst into confetti as she had finished. “Professionally plan parties?! Then I can make everypony happy! 'Pinkie Pie's Party Patronage'! Catchy, isn't it?”
“Very,” sighed Mr. Cake, tired after a day of hard work, “Who was that letter from, anyway?”
“I dunno, but he said that Princess Celestia herself said that my parties are fantasti-mazing!” Pinkie shouted, "he said he wanted someone to plan a party for him and Celestia recommended me. And then I got the idea to plan parties professionally, so that I could bring smiles to ponies faces everywhere!"
“Oh Pinkie, I'm so happy for you! Do you know what this could mean for your future?” said Mrs. Cake.
“Not really, but I love making ponies happy! And this way, I can make so many ponies happy with my parties!” With this, Pinkie gave herself a happy-lap around the bakery, with more of a happy bouncing skip than a run or trot. After this, she said “but wait, the letter said that he was in Canterlot. Does this mean I have to go to Canterlot too? What about my friends?”
“Pinkie, if you set up a party business you could be set for life,” said Mrs. Cake, trying to give her sensible advice.
“But if I don't see my friends, how can I make them smile?” Pinkie said, all essence of enthusiasm leaving her in one fell swoop.
“You can make plenty of new friends in Canterlot, I'm sure there's plenty of friendly ponies there,” continued Mrs. Cake.
“But I like the friends I have here! If I go somewhere else, I'd have to get to know everypony there too. That's not easy you know!” Pinkie got gradually more worried about leaving as time went on.
“Pinkie,” interjected Mr. Cake, “This is such a great chance. You can't let this slip by.”
“I guess you're right...” Pinkie said, quite notably begrudgingly.
Mr. and Mrs. Cake nodded in unison, smiling at the pink earth pony. “Don't worry, the choice will make much more sense to you once you make it.”
“Well, I guess I better tell my friends about this...” said Pinkie, “but how will I break the news to them? They were all so sad when the rest of our friends left...”
“How do you solve the rest of your problems?” said Mrs. Cake.
“With parties...” said Pinkie, dejectedly.
“This'll be a great start to your business,” said Mr. Cake,” You haven't thrown a party in awhile. It'll be nice to get back into the swing of things.”
“Okay...” said Pinkie, she slowly trudged her way back up to her room to start planning the party.
Pinkie knocked on the tree house door, waiting patiently for it to be opened. Once it did, she bounced forward and began to sing “This is your singing telegram-” before being interrupted by Twilight.
“Oh, a party?” she said.
“Yup-yup,” Pinkie said, completely unphased that her musical number was abruptly stopped.
“What's the occasion?” Twilight went on.
“You'll see~” Pinkie said, bouncing off in the general direction of Fluttershy's cottage. Upon arrival, she gave Fluttershy an invitation as well and made her way to the location of which the party would be taking place.
“Okidokey Pinkie, you've rehearsed this enough, your friends will be fine...” Pinkie said to herself. She was then broken out of her zen-like state by a knock on the door. “Hello~ I'm so glad you could make it!” she said upon opening the door. Both Twilight and Fluttershy stood at the door and walked in at the same time.
“Where is everypony? How early are we?” Twilight said.
“Oh, you're early. But you guys are the only ponies I invited,” Pinkie told them.
“That's odd, you don't usually only invite us to your parties.”
“I know, but this isn't really a party for partying's sake...”
“Oh, then what's it for?”
“Well,” Pinkie began, nearly teleporting across the room and kicking the radio to get the music for her musical number. She took a deep breath and began “If you love something let it go. That's what Granny Pie always said-” Awkward stares were the only thing Pinkie received from her friends. As she saw this, she stopped and jumped forward “Oh, I can't do this! I'm leaving!” Pinkie said, falling to the floor.
“Why?” Twilight said.
Pinkie took a deep breath, and began to say, “well, Mr. Cake gave me a letter that was from somepony in Canterlot. He said he heard from Princess Celestia that my parties were the bomb and that he wanted me to plan one of his parties so I got the idea to set up 'Pinkie Pie's Party Patronage' in Canterlot and Mr. and Mrs. Cake thought it was a great idea so they told me I should do it, but I didn't want to 'cause I'd have to leave you guys, but they told me that this was the opportunity of a life time and I shouldn't let it slip by so I listened to them and now I'm going to Canterlot to set up 'Pinkie Pie's Party Patronage'...” All of which was said in one breath and with no breaks inbetween. “Do you guys hate me?”
“We would never hate you, Pinkie. That is really a great opportunity,” Twilight said, trying to reassure her friend through teary eyes.
“But I don't want to leave you guys,” Pinkie said.
“You could always write like the rest will.”
“But it's not the same! I won't get to SEE the smiles on your faces then!”
“You know we'll smile whenever we hear from you, isn't that enough?”
“I guess...” Pinkie stared at the floor. In what appeared to be deep thought, something not like Pinkie.
“Don't be sad, Pinkie,” Twilight began, before being interrupted by: “Do you guys promise to welcome every new pony who comes into Ponyville for me?”
“We promise,” responded Twilight.
"Pinkie promise?"
Twilight and Fluttershy chuckled together before saying "Cross my heart, hope to fly, stick a cupcake in my eye," doing the necessary gestures.
Pinkie smiled faintly, “You can borrow my welcome cart, just remember to put the cake batter and confetti in the right places. I always mix them up.”
“Of course.”
Pinkie, through a wall of tears, stared at her friends and brought them close for a group hug. A faint smile graced her lips, but more than anything, tears were what was being produced by her face. No partying was done that day, but the decorations were never taken down.
And so, Pinkie took her luggage and went off, a waterfall of tears escaping each eye and leaving a trail of wet sadness behind her. The only thing she left behind was her pet alligator, Gummy. Who now was relaxing in the small pond outside Fluttershy's cottage.
First off, Pinkie's points. Still going to do this, might as well. So I'll give her one point for being somewhat torn up about leaving, and one more point for attempting to break the news lightly (party, song and all). That's a grand total of two points. Not doing too well for yourself, Pinkie. Being tied for last place isn't very impressive.
What's it about Canterlot that attracts all my friends? Three out of five now reside there. Is it really that great of a place? It mostly seems like its filled to the brim with snobs and other unfavorable types of ponies, if you ask me. But I guess no one really did or ever does.
Now that I think about it, why did Pinkie need to go to Canterlot to plan parties? She couldn't have set one up in Ponyville, or somewhere a tad more local? She already throws everypony in Ponyville parties, whether they ask for it or not.
Perhaps that's the thing. Because she already throws parties for everypony in Ponyville without request, doing it strictly on request and for a fee would probably elicit little business. I truly doubt that ever crossed her mind. And maybe Canterlot just has some type of business air to it, so everyone's off there to seek the best opportunities.
Whatever the case, she's gone. Just like everypony else. And she's probably having the time of her life, doing what she's always wanted to do. Lucky her. She probably doesn't even think back. Sure, she was all depressed when she had to leave, but now that she's there, she's loving it. I know she is. It's all fun and games for Pinkie, after all.
Maybe that's a bit harsh. I'd like to think that under that overly energetic exterior is a working, sensible brain, but sometimes I can't convince myself that that's even possible. The inner workings of her mind truly are an enigma. If they can make Twilight surrender to senselessness, then they've got to be something really special.
I don't know what to think about Pinkie at this point. To be honest, I never did. I just accepted her as what she was and had fun with her while she lasted. I guess that's all she really wants. Even trying to think about it is starting to make my head reel. Probably best not to try.
I've been doing far too much thinking lately, anyway. All of this incessant moping probably isn't good for a pony's health. Well, I can say that I'm practically certain it is.
I'll just retreat to the spa for now. I could most definitely use some R&R. It's been far too long since I had some nice "me time." And not "me time" as in time alone, because I've had quite enough of that. I'll just do a few things for the pets quickly and be off. I'm determined to keep each of these pets in great conditions, so when they come back and rave about how bad of friends they've been, I can gloat quite whole-heartedly that I was a good enough friend to have kept my part of the bargain. Winona's been getting better. She's regained a considerable amount of her energy and hasn't been making those strange wheezing noises she used to. I'm no trained professional, but I think she just needs some rest at this point.
Anyway, I'm off to the spa. Hopefully it'll be a nice reprieve from all of this grief, even if just for a short while.
"Get under my wing," a mare commanded, looking down at a young filly with an uncharacteristically dim fondness. The light trickle of rain turned into a raging storm just moments before the mare mandated such a thing. The filly did as she said, hanging her head just inches away from the ground. The two slowly trudged their way back up the trail, which started turning to mud under their hooves, making their already painfully sluggish pace even more so. The two ponies occasionally exchanged glances, the levels of venom the mare shot from hers gradually diminished over time. As they got further along, the filly gradually lifted her head.
"What were you thinking?" the mare asked, a strange mix of concern and interrogativeness, her eyes not straying from the path ahead.
The filly hesitated a few moments before saying "I guess I wasn't..."
"Then why did you run away?" the mare asked, her voice now taking a tone fit for chiding. This time, her eyes looked to the filly under her wing.
"I was... scared," responded the filly, lowering her head once more.
The mare gave this excuse a second of thought, she understood. Just to make her assumption was correct, she inquired "Of what?"
"Dad," was the filly's simple answer.
The mare nodded in silence, closing her eyes briefly, before opening them once more and fixing them on the the pair's destination. As the duo grew nearer and nearer to their destination, the mare began to fade. She finally vanished when the destination was reached.
A filly held a small music box, eying it with interest. "What is it?" she asked.
"It's the music box my mom gave to me when I was a filly," a mare replied. Under her breath, she continued "It's all I could get you for your birthday."
"What?" the filly answered, cocking her head in the direction of the mare she was addressing.
"Nothing," the mare hastily responded, feeling confident that the filly was too young to see through such a thin lie.
The filly continued to view the music box with curiosity, turning it this way and that, to get a view of it from every possible angle. There was a small crank on the right side which she had been hesitant to turn. The mare took this strangely thorough investigation as a lack of understanding, and took the initiative. "Turn the crank on the side," she lightly commanded.
"Okay," said the filly, doing as she had been told. The crank resisted slightly, but the filly was able to do so with little difficulty. Upon completion, a sweet melody began to play. It sounded almost lullaby-like. A small smile began to creep its way across the filly lips, eventually widening into a decently full grin. The mare sighed in relief.
"Do you like it?" asked the mare.
An enthusiastic "Yes," was the filly's simple response.
The mare smiled, her face almost glowing with joy. As her smile waned, so did she, until she completely disappeared.
A young filly lay in bed, building up a grand sneeze with exaggerated "Ah's" for some lengthy stretch of time. At the finale of the cadence of inhalations was a sneeze of notably anticlimactic petiteness. A mare stood over the filly, checking her temperature with a hoof. She withdrew the hoof and feigned a burn, producing a sizzling noise with her grinning mouth as she did so. The filly chuckled.
"You're burning up," she said, ceasing the fun and games briefly. The filly's face contorted with worry, unbeknownst to the mare, as she was currently measuring a proper amount of medicine to supply the filly. She filled a teaspoons with a, supposedly, cherry-flavored cough serum. "Open wide," she said, moving the spoon toward the filly's open mouth. Upon entrance, the filly winced as the taste hit her. "You have to swallow," the mare said in a playfully chastising tone. The filly, reluctantly, did so. The process was repeated for another teaspoon of the same medicine.
After a few moments of a similar wince followed by a pause, a smile crept across the filly's face as she cleared her throat.
"Feeling better?" asked the mare.
The filly made a soft affirmative noise and closed her eyes, her breathing growing slower as time went on.
The mare stood over the filly, her face forming a smile similar to one the filly displayed moments before. She took the blanket in her mouth and set it over the filly, making sure to do so with great care. She blew out the candle that sat on a small wooden table next to the bed and began to make her way out of the room, stepping in a very delicate manner as to make as little noise as possible. As soon as she reached the doorway, she vanished.
"But what if the other fillies and colts don't like me?" asked a filly, laying various items in a saddlebag.
"What isn't there to like about you?" a mare rebuked.
"I don't know," replied the filly, briefly pondering the question before responding.
"You're just being needlessly self-conscious."
The filly gave the mare a long blank stare, the only interim granted was a quick series of blinks.
"There's nothing to worry about," the mare said, rectifying her previous statement in a more understandable manner.
"I guess so," the filly said.
"You'll have fun, trust me."
"If you say so."
Just then, a chariot arrived at the door of the small cottage the two were currently residing in. The mare nudged the filly and gestured toward the door, waving with a wide grin on her face as the filly went her way. The moment the filly reached the doorway, the mare vanished.
"I love you," a mare remarked, looking lovingly at a filly that lay, coddled in her embrace.
"I love you too," the filly responded.
A filly wandered throughout a seemingly empty cottage, the only sounds being made were the high-pitched creaking of the floor boards under the filly's hooves. The same question escaped her lips time and time again: "Where are you?"
The filly stumbled this way and that, unable to see in the pitch darkness of the small cottage, the only light granted being the occasional flash of lightning, which startled the filly more than aided her in her search.
A filly stared at a mass of green fabric that sat in her hooves. She stared at it in every angle her neck could comfortably achieve, but the confused glance on her face never left.
"What's wrong?" asked a mare that sit across the room.
"What is it?" the filly asked in response.
"It's a sweater, silly filly," the mare answered, saying the latter two words in tone fit for foals.
"Oh."
The mare contorted her face in a painful, concerned way. She felt unappreciated.
"I love it," the filly choked out.
The mare's face brightened up.
The two embraced.
The mare disappeared.
The filly wandered from unlit room to equally unlit room, attempting to grasp some type of bearing on her surroundings. The cottage always felt very desolate, almost depressing. All of the empty rooms made the filly feel more lonely than vacated space would; she thought it to be an unpleasant feeling.
The filly began to reach her hooves out, feeling her way around the halls, attempting to find something-- anything-- to use for leverage or guidance. Then, she felt the answer to her prayers, a candle. Quickly, she grabbed the candle and attempted to find a means of fire. Warily, however, as she was always instructed to not play with fire.
A filly sat on the ground, admiring a wound that graced her leg. Tears welled up in her eyes as a mare took a swab with a strange liquid on it, and brushed it across the open wound.
"Why does it sting so much?" the filly asked.
"That means it's working," replied the mare.
The filly's eyes steadily grew wetter and wetter as the process proceeded. Once the mare was done with the swab, she tossed it aside and got out a soft fabric.
"What now?" asked the filly.
"Now we dress the wound."
The wound was dressed.
The filly smiled.
The two embraced.
The mare vanished.
The filly finally stumbled on what she had been searching for-- a pack of matches. The filly knew the owner of the matches, and knew he had a tendency for enjoying cigars. Taking his carelessness as a factor, she assumed they would be lying around somewhere that she could find them. Taking as much care as possible, she lit a match and used it to light the candle.
With light in hand, the filly continued her journey, stumbling from room to room, still asking the very same question: "Where are you?" However, it had gradually grown in worry and concern. The filly was now beginning to tear up, but she continued onward, steeling her courage every step of the way.
"Be careful, now," a mare said.
"I will," responded a filly.
A filly sat atop a stool.
She held spices.
She put spices into a pot.
The pot held stew.
The mare smiled at the filly.
The filly smiled back.
The filly turned.
Her tail hit the pot.
The pot fell.
The pot hit the floor.
Stew spilled.
The mare was silent.
The filly was silent.
They stared at each other.
The mare laughed.
The filly laughed.
The mare disappeared.
Under the guidance and assistance of the candle, the filly wandered the halls still. That same question still being brought forth: "Where are you?" Her search being so long fruitless had not made her completely lose hope, but the hope she did have was slowly waning over time. A dim light in her heart, however, never ceased to shine.
Finally, after what felt to be eons-long searching, the filly found her destination. The room that usually contained a familiar pony at this hour was empty, much to the confusion of the filly. She stumbled around the room for a few short moments before giving up her search in the immediate area.
"Ready or not, here I come" said a mare.
The mare turned.
The mare started to walk.
The mare looked around.
A giggle.
Another giggle.
A rustle.
A turn.
An opening.
Another giggle.
One more.
An embrace.
A vanishing.
Just as the filly met the doorway, a feint bumping sound was heard. Startled, she spun with blinding speed, but when she saw no culprit in her immediate vision, she felt relieved. After a few wary moments, the filly began to walk back into the room, attempting to deduce the reason behind the sudden, startling sound.
She opened a door.
A mare stood.
A filly stood.
Smiles.
Stares--unblinking.
Silence.
A blink.
A giggle.
Another giggle.
Smiles.
An embrace.
Vanish.
She looked around.
A mare stood.
A filly flew.
Words of encouragement.
Insecure rebuttals.
More words of encouragement.
Smiles.
A cheer.
Another.
More smiles.
Descent.
Embrace.
Vanish.
She looked up.
A bed.
A filly lay within.
A mare stood over her.
A lullaby.
Soft sounds of pleasure.
Coughs.
Worried expression.
Smile.
Another.
Vanish.
She gasped.
Mare.
Filly.
Play.
Rain.
Surprise.
Gesture.
Dash.
House.
Safety.
Vanish.
She cried.
Paint.
Crayon.
Pencils.
Paper.
Filly.
Work.
Mare.
Gift.
Smiles.
Embrace.
Vanish.
She ran.
