Shifting Morals

by Leafdoggy

Rating: teen
Tags: Violence, Pinkie Pie, Drama, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Original Character
Length: 30639

A shapeshifter tries to wreak havoc, but Pinkie Pie is intent on getting in their way

A shapeshifter from another world has landed in Ponyville, intent on bringing chaos and disruption. An ever-curious Pinkie Pie interrupts their plotting, and the shapeshifter's improvisation gets them stuck with the pink pony. They find themselves having to work under Pinkie's nose to try and destroy these ponies' happy lives, but constant exposure to that tsunami of glee is sure to have an effect on anyone.

Published 2019-05-18 22:40:02 UTC
Last updated 2019-06-14 19:36:48 UTC

Prologue

Colorful

It’s not a word that comes to me much, but it’s the only way I could possibly describe the clearing I just woke up in. Wildflowers of all sorts standing out in contrast to the dark greens of the forest behind them. Creatures meandering by, paying me no mind. A perfectly blue sunny sky. It’s an assault on the senses. I need to walk into the forest before I get sick.

Walking through the brush into the trees, I'm immediately more at home. Drab, dreary. A layer of fog covers the ground, shadows fly overhead. It’s a perfect way to spend an afternoon, taking in the world’s natural dark underbelly.

Sadly, it doesn’t take long for the trees to part and reveal civilization. The colors here put the clearing to shame. If there’s a competition for gaudiness somewhere, this place is winning it. I briefly consider passing this town up in favor of someplace I can stomach, but somehow I doubt I’d find one.

Crouching behind a tree, I strain my eyes to try and get a look at the people that I’ll be- huh. Well those certainly aren’t people. Horses? No, smaller. Ponies, I guess. What a bizarre place. Seems I’ll have to put in some extra work to blend in here. Ah, well; perks of being a shapeshifter.

I let my instincts choose my new look, and get back to work. Things certainly seem calm and peaceful here; most people are just meandering about and socializing. Laughter, playfulness, just boundless joy all around. If that’s all there is to contend with, then this place is gonna be a piece of-

“HEY!!!”

I jump out of my skin as a pink mass drops out of the tree I was hiding behind and lands in front of me. Was I spotted? Where were they? This could go south fast, I need to brace myself. Maybe these horses are more dangerous than they let on.

The big pink pony crouches down to match the defensive position I’ve taken, and cocks her head to the side. “Whatcha doin out here? Some kinda game? Oh, or maybe you’re spying on someone to plan a surprise for them!” She bounces around like a bundle of springs as she talks. “Ooh ooh, let me help! I’m great at surprises! Also, who are you? I’m Pinkie Pie!”

My muscles relax and I slump backwards. Not a danger, it seems, just an idiot. I’d rather enter the town on my own terms, but I’ll have to roll with this. “I, uh.. I’m not really sure who I am.” I put on my best frightened face. “I just woke up over there, and I can’t remember anything. Where am I?”

“Oh no!” she gasps. “You can’t remember ANYTHING? What about your name?”

“Hmm… no, nothing, sorry.”

“Geez, what a disaster! I’d be so sad if I couldn’t remember I was Pinkie Pie… Okay, well what if I give you a new name? Just until you remember your old one. What about uhh.. Brownie Bite? No, that’s not quite it.. Pinkie Pie? That’s taken I think. OH! Strawberry Tart! It’s perfect.”

“Strawberry Tart? Huh. Well, I guess if you say it fits, I’m fine with it.”

“Hooray! So what are ya gonna do now?”

“I dunno. What do you do when you have amnesia?”

“Huh, that’s a good question. Hmm... I think that if I forgot who I was, I would want me to show me where I live and who my friends are.”

“O..kay. Well that could work I guess, what if you showed me around town?”

“Oh, that’s a great idea! Let’s do it!”

Before I can respond, the pink pony starts hopping away from me, so I get up and follow behind her. She parades me around town, rambling on. “Over there is Rarity” she says as she points to a small storefront, “And over there is the apple stand that’s missing a leg and so sometimes it drops an apple on the ground which they give to me for free. Oh, and that over there is-” most of what she says seems utterly inconsequential, so I tune her out.

I study the town as we walk. My instincts seem correct so far; utterly benign. I've yet to see so much as a frown. These ponies wouldn't know danger if it was standing right in front of them. They certainly won't know it when it's their friends standing in front of them.

As we walk past a store, I catch my reflection in the window and get my first good look at myself. I’m certainly small, a fair bit smaller than the pink one. My light brown fur is speckled with white dots from my snout to my shoulders, marks I’d call freckles if I wasn’t covered in fur, and I have a rather plain sienna mane, cut short and curly. It's a nice, subdued look. There’s a strange mark on my side too, some sort of pitch-black spiral that seems almost separate from the light fur around it.

At one point we walk up behind a yellow pony on the street, and Pinkie Pie points at her and loudly announces “That’s Fluttershy!” The wiry horse yelps and jumps a full three times her height into the air. “Oh, hi Pinkie,” she half-whimpers, “it’s nice to see you. Who’s your, um.. Friend?”

“Oh, this is Strawberry Tart! She-”

“They” I interject.

“They lost their memory, so I’m givin them a tour around town! Wanna join us?”

Fluttershy floats back down. “Oh, no thank you Pinkie, I have to get back home to Angel. It was very nice meeting you though Strawberry! I’m very sorry to hear you’re not doing well, but you’re in good hands. You're really lucky that Pinkie found you. So um, where are you staying?”

“Oh,” I say. “I guess I don’t really know. Where is there to stay?”

Pinkie lights up. “Oh, you should stay with me! It’ll be like a sleepover!”

“Are you sure, Pinkie?” Fluttershy says. “Wouldn’t that get a little.. Crowded?”

“No, it’ll be fun! Cmon Strawberry, we gotta. Thanks for the idea Fluttershy!”

Pinkie drags me away before Fluttershy can protest, and so she just meekly waves as I’m abducted by the giddy horse.

It’s dusk by the time the tour ends. “And this is Sugarcube Corner!” Pinkie says as she bounces through the door of a tacky-looking building. The garishness of it rivals the pink pony herself. Inside it’s just as tacky, but surprisingly tidy. “This is the store, my room is upstairs” she explains. I’m surprised she’s able to keep a business in order; I suspect the kitchen paints a very different picture.

“We don’t really have a spare bedroom, buuuuut we do have a basement where we keep our junk! I’m sure there’s somethin down there you can make into a bed, so that can be your room!” She seems oblivious to the frown I’m wearing. “Let’s hit the hay early so we have lots of time for fun tomorrow, kay? Nighty night!” With this she bounds up the stairs, leaving me in blissful silence.

The dimly-lit basement actually suits me fairly well. Bare walls, no windows, cobwebs dominating the room. Digging through piles of junk I find an old, torn up sofa buried under boxes. I’ve had worse beds. I clear it off and make myself comfortable, improvising a pillow from an old saddlebag.

This is certainly an odd place I’ve landed in, but it seems like everyone here is either incompetent or a coward. Easy pickings. Pinkie is right, we're gonna have tons of fun tomorrow.

Chapter 1

*THUNK*

Something heavy lands on top of me and wakes me up. “Wake up, wake up!!” it yells. Prying my eyes open, I see a vague pink shape jumping on top of me. I groan, and the shape jumps again. “C’mon, we’ve got stuff to do! Getupgetupgetup!”

“Ugh, okay, okay.” I push Pinkie Pie off of me and yawn. “Geez, where’s the fire?”

“Fire? No, silly, today we’re gonna go meet some of my friends!”

“Huh? When was that decided?”

“Just now! C’mon, get ready!” She crouches down, threatening to pounce on me again.

I push myself groggily to my feet. “Hang on, hang on. I was planning to just go out and, like.. I don’t know, figure out what ponies do around here?” I frown at her. She doesn't notice.

“What we do around here is have fun! And to do that, first you need some more friends. You can’t just rely on me forever. Trust me, you’ll love my friends. Any friend of mine is a friend of.. Mine? I dunno, the point is you’re my friend, and my friends like each other.” She nods her head in agreement with herself.

It doesn’t seem like she’s gonna let up. “Fine, I give up,” I groan. “I’ll be your hostage.” Guess I’ll have to get creative if I wanna get my job done today.

The pink pony laughs and starts pushing me towards the stairs. “Alrighty! Let’s go, hostage!” Hopefully she at least knows where she’s taking me.

Wait, did she say I’m her friend? Huh.

I yawn and rub my eyes as we break out onto the empty streets. The sun is half-risen, painting the town in a comfy orange glow. “So, where are we going?” I ask as we start walking. “I’m kinda starting to think I should be worried.”

Pinkie giggles. “We’re gonna go see Rarity. She’s usually up pretty early, so I like to go hang out with her. She’s good at multitasking so she doesn’t tell me to go away while she works.”

“So people do work around here?” I’m genuinely a little surprised. “From what I’ve seen so far I just assumed people walked around and talked to each other.”

“Well, sure, there’s that. But we still need stuff, dummy.” She bumps against me playfully and just about knocks me over. “Rarity’s real into fashion, so she makes clothes for other ponies! Ooh, we should have her make you something! Then you’ll get to see how happy she gets when people like her work.”

“Ehh..” I give a conflicted noise. That’s closer than I’d like to get, but at this point I have to keep up appearances. “Maybe. I dunno, I’m not sure how I feel about fashion.”

“Aw, don’t be embarrassed,” she teases. “It’s fun. But you don’t gotta.” She shoots a bubbly grin in my direction.

We come up on a house I recognize from yesterday. “We’re here!” Pinkie announces. It’s garish, almost blinding, but at least it’s cohesive. That seems rare around here. Walking in, the interior is actually fairly quaint. Darker purples and blues make everything a lot less overwhelming. It’s still all utterly excessive, but it’s palatable. A bell above the door announces our visit.

“Coming, just a moment” comes a soft voice from the hallway, followed shortly by its owner. I’m starting to get better at differentiating this ponies; this one seems shorter than Pinkie, although still bigger than me. White fur and a purple mane; I appreciate the simplicity of it. She carries herself with a practiced poise, but lets out some tension when she sees Pinkie Pie. “Oh, Pinkie, this is a pleasant surprise. Come in, make yourselves comfortable. Who’s your friend?”

“This is Strawberry Tart!” Pinkie says, a bit too loudly. “They forgot who they are, so I’m helpin them out til they remember.”

“Oh, heavens, amnesia?” Rarity gives me a sad look. “You poor thing, that must be so difficult. If there’s anything at all I can do to help, please don’t hesitate to ask.”

“Oh, um, thank you,” I reply. I’m a little thrown off. She’s a lot calmer and gentler than I expected a friend of Pinkie's to be. I take a moment to compose myself as Rarity leads us to a lounge and we get comfortable.

“Well, in the meantime, I’m Rarity, local fashionista extraordinaire. Let me speak for everybody in formally saying welcome to Ponyville. I’m positive you’ll absolutely love it here.” She’s very enthusiastic as she speaks, using her hooves for emphasis, but in an elegant way. “How did you come about meeting Pinkie?”

“Oh, I found them in the woods,” Pinkie interjects. “I thought they were playin some kinda game and wanted to join, but it turned out they were just lost. So now we’re friends! They’re staying in my basement for now, it’s a lotta fun.”

“Your.. basement?” Rarity shivers. “Well, don’t worry Strawberry, I’ll be sure to pop over when I can and spice it up into something livable for you. Any friend of Pinkie’s is a friend of mine, after all.”

I hear Pinkie mutter “oooh, that’s how it goes” under her breath.

“Can I just say,” Rarity continues, “I absolutely love the colors of your coat, Strawberry. You simply must let me design something for you. It’s not often I get to design for such earthy tones.”

I smile politely. “I, um.. that would be nice.” Now that we’ve met, I’m coming around on the idea of getting to know her more. Nothing says I can’t enjoy myself before things go south. “Are all of Pinkie’s friends this friendly?”

Rarity laughs softly. “Oh, you’re too kind. Well, some of us are a bit more brash than others, but seeing as you’ve already befriended Pinkie Pie, I think you’ll find the rest of us quite tame.”

Pinkie pouts. “Hey, what does that mean?”

Rarity laughs more. “Just that you can be rather a lot sometimes. We all love you, Pinkie, but there is a lot of you to love.”

Pinkie tries to pout harder, but the effort makes her go cross-eyed, which makes her giggle. The giggles turn to laughter, and soon both ponies are laughing together, fueling each other. I just watch quietly. They certainly seem close, but they are naively kind. That sort of kindness has a way of leaving you vulnerable. Suddenly, I see the way forward; a perfect plan to set things off.

“Um, I’d like to go wash up a bit if you don’t mind,” I say, standing up. Excusing myself, I walk into Rarity’s washroom and lock the door. Looking into the mirror, I take another good look at myself, and then I change. My legs get longer, my frame lighter. My fur brightens, then shifts to a soft yellow. My mane grows and blends into a bright pink. Soon the face in the mirror is that of the kind, cowardly pony I met yesterday.

These wings should certainly come in handy. It takes a few tries to get used to them, but soon enough I’m able to fly out the washroom’s window. Floating around, I look through Rarity’s windows, trying to find a room where I can start things off. I consider the bedroom, but I don’t know these ponies well enough to know what drama that might kick up. The studio is close, but the finished clothes are too valuable. Too much too soon is a source of doubt. Then I spot a small storeroom, filled with equipment and supplies; the perfect target.

I rear back and brace myself, then fly full speed at the window, barreling through it with a loud crash. I lose control immediately and slam into a shelf, knocking it over onto a dusty sewing machine that breaks with a deafening crack. The textiles and tools from the shelf drop on top of me. It’s loud and chaotic; I couldn’t have hoped for a better landing. Right on cue I hear hooves racing towards me.

Rarity bursts into the room, frantic, all her grace left behind. She takes in the damaged supplies, the broken machine, and then sees me on the ground. I stand up shakily, torn fabrics falling off my back, and she looks at me in shock. I can see her trying to say something, anything, but she’s utterly speechless. This part is always my favorite; absolute shock, the pain of betrayal.

I shiver and make myself tear up, looking into Rarity’s eyes. “I-I’m.. Um.. I.. Sorry!” I stammer out, then shut my eyes tight and fly away. More glass shatters around me as I fly clumsily out the window. Exactly how I wanted things to happen. No answers, no meaning, just chaos and confusion. When I’m confident I’m out of sight, I double back into the washroom. I turn back into Strawberry Tart and wash the tears out of my eyes, then step out into the hall.

“-Just can’t imagine what got into her” I hear Rarity saying as I approach. I walk up to the storeroom door and cock my head. She’s standing in the wreckage, looking lost, Pinkie rubbing her shoulder.

“What happened?” I say. “I heard some kind of crash. Is everybody okay?”

Rarity shakes her head. “I’m not really sure. Something must have.. I don’t know.” She sighs. “I need to clean all this up. I’m truly sorry to cut our visit short, you two, but this demands my attention.”

Pinkie frowns and looks at me. “Would you like us to help?” I ask. “We’re already here, and this is a lot of work for just you.”

Rarity shakes her head and pushes us towards the exit. “No, no, I insist that you to go on and enjoy your day. You’ve many ponies to meet! I assure you I am quite accustomed to cleaning up messes. Go and see Twilight, she probably needs someone to make her take a break.” Pinkie shrugs at me and we relent, leaving Rarity to contend with her disaster.

I can’t help but smile to myself as we walk away. Rarity must be fuming; I can only imagine the earful she’ll give Fluttershy later. A perfect beginning to a rotten day.

Chapter 2

“So has anything like that happened with Fluttershy before?”

The roads are quiet as we walk. It’s closing in on midday now, so ponies are up and about, but they’re busy with work or chores. I figure I should take this time to gather more information. If Fluttershy has been a problem before, I can copy what happened, and make it harder to believe it wasn’t her. Eroding trust where it’s already weakened.

Pinkie scrunches her face in thought. “Hmm.. Kinda sorta? She’s gotten panicky and clumsy before. But she usually doesn’t make too much of a mess. Today was like, a Pinkie sized mess, not a Fluttersized one.” She gasps. “Oh no, what if she’s trying to get better than me at making messes? I gotta step up my game. It takes more than that to outmess ol’ Pinkie Pie. Maybe I should-”

I cut her off. “What would Fluttershy have to be scared of? It’s so peaceful here. I haven’t seen so much as a frown.”

“Oh, she’s scared of everything. Loud noises, fast winds, scary stories, not-scary stories. It’s not a big deal, we usually just help her calm down and it’s fine. She has gotten a few big scares though. Like from Nightmare Moon and stuff.”

“What’s a Nightmare Moon?”

“Oh, yeah, you don’t remember. Whoops. Princess Luna used to be a bad guy called Nightmare Moon. She was super scary. Took over, made everything dark. She got better though. Oh, uh, Princess Luna is a Princess. She and Celestia live in Canterlot."

“Huh,” I say. This is good. I can feel the gears turning already, forming plots. Pinkie keeps rambling on, but I just tune her out and make some plans.

Eventually Pinkie stops walking and announces “We’re here!”. It takes me a moment to realize what I’m looking at. From a distance I had just assumed it was a big tree, maybe a town center or park, but now I can see the door and windows and other fixtures tacked onto it. I guess this is what passes for a house around here. I don’t hate it, at least not as much as most houses, but I’m still not excited about meeting whoever would live here.

“Ding-Dong!” Pinkie blurts out as we walk in. It makes me flinch, and in another room I hear something fall on the floor, followed by muffled curse. Pinkie grins at me and doesn’t go further in, so I take in the room. Thousands of books line the walls, packed floor to ceiling. Every empty space, every available wall, has been turned into bookshelves. Through open doors, I can see more rooms equally filled with books. It’s almost overwhelming. I can’t imagine trying to find anything in here.

We end up waiting a couple minutes out here, I guess so this new pony can clean up whatever fell. Pinkie is bouncing back and forth on her hooves, trying to balance on them one at a time. It amazes me how a pony who seems to need such constant entertainment never gets bored. It’s impressive, really. It must have taken a long time to learn how to be her own company like that.

Just as Pinkie finds her balance on a front hoof, a disheveled purple pony walks out of a side room. Pinkie spots her and falls forward, flipping onto her back. “Oh, hello Pinkie” the new pony says in a tired voice as she walks over to us. “What’s up?” She looks pretty rough, baggy eyes and a messy mane, but she’s smiling sweetly, and her tired eyes shine bright.

“Rarity told us to bug you!” Pinkie says, gesticulating wildly from down on the floor. “This is Strawberry Tart. I’m goin around introducing them to all my friends.”

Twilight looks me over. “Well, hello Strawberry Tart, my name is Twilight Sparkle.” She flashes me a bright, toothy grin. She definitely wears her heart on her sleeve.

“Hello Twilight,” I reply. “It’s very nice to meet you. What was that noise as we came in? Are you okay?”

“Oh, that.” Twilight winces. “I just dropped some books I was carrying. You caught me in the middle of some rearranging. See, I found out yesterday that the books in the west wing are actually a lot more enjoyable to read in the morning sunlight, which comes in through the eastern windows. So now I have to swap all the books in the two wings. It’s a lot of work, especially with Spike in Canterlot.”

Twilight leads us over to a small table and we take a seat around it. Pinkie is still on the floor, so she just rolls along. The table is a bit cramped; if two of us leaned forward at the same time we’d headbutt each other. “I guess I could use a break, actually,” Twilight says. She leans hard against the table, like she could pass out at any moment. “You two have great timing. How are the introductions going?”

“Oh, they’re great!” Pinkie pipes up. “We saw Fluttershy yesterday and she was only, like, sixty percent scared. Maybe sixty five. Okay, seventy. Then this morning we went to Rarity’s, which was a lotta fun.” Pinkie leans towards twilight and hushes her voice, acting secretive, but still talking loud enough that I can clearly hear her. “I think Rarity thinks they’re cute.”

I about fall out of my chair. Cute? There's no way. I mean, I hadn’t picked up on that at all. Hmm.. If Pinkie’s right, though, that could be useful. It might impair her judgement. I’ll have to keep it in mind for the future.

Pinkie catches reaction before I can stifle it and chuckles. “Well someone was bound to, silly,” she says, prodding me in the shoulder playfully. "There's no way you were gettin through Ponyville without somepony falling for you." I can feel myself start to blush. I’m not used to being… teased.

Twilight laughs. “Don’t worry about it, Strawberry. Pinkie's just messing with you. Rarity finds the cuteness in anypony.” Her smile is kind, but still has an undertone of playfulness. “What about you, though? Feel a spark of friendship talking to Rarity?”

I’m flustered, having a difficult time to find the right thing to say. “I, uh.. Yeah, I mean, she was nice. It was nice having someone calm to talk to I guess. She seems very, um, friendly.” My cheeks still feel hot. Why is this affecting me? I’m just saying what I need to to earn their trust. Trying to operate under constant scrutiny must be taking more of a toll than I thought. I need to learn to steel myself against it.

I take a moment to compose myself, exhaling hard, and find my wits again. Slowly, I cool down, and my senses come back to me. Then I look towards Twilight. “Oh, Fluttershy seemed kind of weird, though.” I say. “I’m a little worried that Rarity might be mad at her.”

Twilight’s eyes widen. “Why would Rarity ever get mad at Fluttershy?”

“Oh, she made a huuuuge mess in Rarity’s supply closet” Pinkie says, waving her hooves around to emphasize. “Broke a window and everything. I’m a little jealous, I’ve always wanted to jump through a window. Maybe I should go back before it gets fixed...”

“Oh no, I hope she’s okay.” Twilight’s face drops with concern. “I can’t imagine what could’ve made her do that. I should go check on her later. Don’t worry though, Strawberry, Rarity’s very understanding. She would never get mad over something like that.”

I nod silently. I hope she’s not right. I really thought these ponies were pretty vulnerable. I’m not too worried, though. I’m more than willing to play the long game.

Twilight picks up on the lull in conversation and changes the subject. “So, what brings you to Ponyville, Strawberry?”

“I’m not actually sure,” I reply. “I can’t remember anything before waking up in the woods. Pinkie’s helping me until I figure things out.”

“Amnesia?” Twilight looks sympathetic. “That’s awful. Let me know if you need anything. Actually..” She closes her eyes in thought for a moment. I almost think she fell asleep, but then she pops back. “I think I remember reading something about amnesia recently.” She jumps up and starts looking through books. “Pinkie, can you help me find it? Just grab anything that looks like it might be close.”

Pinkie bounces over to a bookshelf and starts looking. I’m not sure if she’s actually using discretion, or just tossing random books over her shoulder. Twilight is being more meticulous, flipping through books and picking out a few here and there. Slowly, a pile of books grows on the table in front of me.

Twilight’s search takes her into another room, and I sense an opportunity. I glance at Pinkie Pie, but she’s completely oblivious, lost in her own little world. Quietly, I sneak to the front door and slip outside.

Outside, I look around quickly for any witnesses, and then change again. I’m more accustomed to being the yellow pony now. I can go harder, match her character. Cause some real, believable chaos.

I go over the plan in my head again, line myself up, and charge full speed towards the door. I burst through and fly past Pinkie, slamming hard into a bookshelf. Books pour down onto the floor around me. A vase shatters on the ground.

Scrambling to my feet, I look around frantically. I need to focus on Twilight. When I spot her coming, I leap forward and grab her. “Twilight!” I whimper. “Twilight, N-N-.. N-Nightmare..” I close my eyes and well up some tears.

Twilight holds me gently. “Whoa, Fluttershy, what’s wrong?” She speaks softly, lovingly. “What’s this about a nightmare? I’ve never seen a dream scare you this much.”

I shake my head frantically. “N-no, it’s.. It’s Nightmare Moon! She’s back, she took over Canterlot! Please, Twilight, you have to help!”

Twilight recoils. “What!? But.. how? Fluttershy, that’s impossible. Are you absolutely certain?”

I nod vigorously. “I’m positive, Twilight! She’s in Canterlot, you have to go help!” I make myself start crying.

Twilight nods and focuses, her exhaustion pushed aside by determination. She charges out the door at an incredible speed, running in the direction I assume Canterlot is in. Pinkie just watches, dumbfounded, as I fly after her.

Once I’m out of sight, I land and change back to my regular look. Smiling, I watch as Twilight slowly vanishes over the horizon.

I wonder how far away Canterlot is.

Chapter 3

“I thought all your friends lived in Ponyville.”

Pinkie’s has brought me to a small road leading out of town. It’s pretty empty, but behind us the streets bustle with activity. Ponies have started finishing their chores and work, and are starting to form small groups along the street to socialize. Food carts and other vendors are getting crowded as ponies mingle with the shopkeeper, and then mingle with the other minglers. I can’t say I’m upset Pinkie is leading us away from the mobs, but I do want to know how far we’re going.

“Oh, Applejack lives in Ponyville,” Pinkie says. “Just not in Ponyville. She has a farm! It’s humongous, just wait til you see it.”

“A farm? What does she grow?”

“Apples, mostly. They do some other stuff sometimes, but it all comes back to apples. You oughta see some coming up soon.” She points ahead of us down the road. “She works real hard on it. Way harder than I ever could.” She shivers thinking about it.

Sure enough, squinting, I see she’s right; the forest ahead slowly starts transitioning into an apple orchard. “Huh, alright.” I say. “How much work can there be though? I mean, apples don’t grow in a day.”

“Oh, it’s biiiiig.” Pinkie flings her forelegs out to the side to exaggerate. “She can’t get all the apples in one day. Plus there’s always stuff to fill out the time. Fixing things, making cider, taking care of Applebloom. Oh, uh, her little sister. There’s a lotta hidden work behind the scenes.”

“Well doesn’t all that work stress her out?” I ask. “That’s a lot to take on by herself.”

“That’s why she has friends!” Pinkie flashes me a wide grin. “I try to get over to the farm pretty often. A Pinkie a day keeps the sadness away, they say. ‘Take one hug and call me in the morning’ I tell her. Well, I don’t actually say that. But it is somethin she should do!” She giggles at her own silliness.

“You know, you put a lot more thought into these things than I would have expected,” I tell her. “I had figured you were just going about things randomly.”

Pinkie laughs. “Of course I plan things out, silly.” She turns around and starts walking backwards so she can point at me to emphasize her points. “Fun and games are no laughing matter.” To her credit, she manages to keep a serious look on her face for a good few moments before it makes her giggle.

“So it’s really that important to you, huh?”

“Of course it’s important!” she shouts. “What could be more important than making your friends happy? I mean, if your friends aren’t happy, then you’re not happy, and then they feel bad for makin you feel bad, and then you feel bad for makin them feel bad, and- it’s awful! Making my friends happy isn’t just important, it’s the most important.”

“That’s a very admirable mindset, Pinkie,” I say with a smile. She’s not wrong at least. The emotional connection between friends is strong. In a way, you feel the things your friends feel. That’s also why it's dangerous. It's that deep connection that lets me do what I do.

“So, what’s this Applejack like?" I ask. "Do you think she’ll like me?”

“I dunno why she wouldn’t. She’s uhh… Well, she’s hardworking. And not just at work! Even when we talk, it’s like she’s puttin tons of effort into it. Always telling the truth, stopping arguments. I don’t think you’ll hit it off as naturally as you did with Rarity,” she says, punching me playfully in the shoulder. It makes me smile. “But you’ll like her. Speaking of which, we oughta be coming up on the farm now!”

Ahead of us the orchard splits and gives way to a huge clearing. Acres of grass interspersed with sheds and silos and barns. A small creek runs along one side, out of one set of trees and into another. In the center of the clearing is a big house, bigger than I would expect for just a farmer and her sister. It’s by far the most normal house I’ve seen in this town. I’m not the biggest fan of the pink paint, but for all intents and purposes it’s just.. A house. A regular house.

Pinkie stops and takes a look around. “Hmm,” she ponders. “I don’t see her out here. Let’s see, afternoon, monday, sunny day, mild winds, pancake breakfast… She must be in the barn!” She starts hopping towards a nearby building.

Walking inside, it’s immediately clear what this barn is used for.Both walls are lined with sturdy shelves, covered floor to ceiling with baskets. Most of the baskets are empty, but partway down there’s a line where they transition to being filled to the brim with apples. Clearly, this is their main storage. At the turning point is a little orange pony tossing baskets of apples onto empty shelves. She catches sight of us, kicks one more basket up, then waves and starts walking over.

“Well I’ll be. Pinkie, you didn’t tell me you’d made a new pal. Since when do you keep secrets?” The pony’s drawl is severe. When she reaches us she gives Pinkie a playful nudge, and then a tight hug. She certainly isn’t what I expected. When Pinkie described the farm work, I was expecting a massive, lumbering pony, but she’s... Well, she’s tiny! She’s as small as I am. There must be a ridiculous amount of muscle crammed into that tiny frame. “Well, c’mon, don’t keep me waitin here! Introduce us!”

“Hi Applejack!” Pinkie says enthusiastically. It’s rare that she’s the one playing catch up in a conversation, but it looks like she enjoys it. “This is Strawberry Tart! I just met them yesterday, but I’m helpin them out cuz they have amnesty.”

“Amnesia,” I correct her.

“Well, if that ain’t the saddest thing I’ve heard in a dog’s age,” Applejack says, taking her hat off and putting it over her chest. “You’re lucky you got Pinkie lookin after you. This girl could make a statue laugh.” Pinkie blushes and smiles at her. Applejack continues, “And I gotta say, I do love the name. It’s got Pinkie written all over it, but she did good.”

“Well, thank you Applejack,” I say. “I have to say, you’re not what I was expecting when Pinkie said you ran a farm all by yourself. Not that, uh, that’s a bad thing.”

Applejack laughs. It’s a hearty, genuine laugh. “Well it’s not quite all on my own. Big Mac does a lot of the heavy lifting, plus we’ve got Applebloom and Granny Smith here. And I always make Pinkie burn off a few calories when she visits! But yeah, I getcha. What can I say, I was blessed with good looks.” She shoots a smile at me. A playful smile, but also a proud one. “C’mere, lemme show you around.”

She leads us out of the barn, and we start walking through the farm. “As you can probably tell, this is mostly an apple kind of operation. We’ve got a couple animals around, but aside from that it’s all apples. Applesauce, apple cider, apple butter, apple pies. We tried apple plushies a while back, but well. Let’s just say we don’t keep sewing needles in the same house as Applebloom anymore.”

“Do the ponies around here not get tired of apples?” I ask. “It seems a bit overwhelming.”

“Nah, are you kiddin?” Applejack replies. “This is apple country. We’ve got apples flowin through our veins.”

“I see. Well, what about when you’re not working?” I ask. “What do you do for fun?”

“She hangs out with me!” Pinkie says.

“And the others,” Applejack adds.

“Just how many of there are you?” I ask. “It seems like Pinkie’s been introducing me to an endless flood of ponies.”

“Oh, after this we only have Rainbow Dash left.” Pinkie says.

“Ah, yeah, you’ll run into her eventually.” Applejack replies. “You never can find that girl when you want to, but she’ll sure find you. So, whatcha think? You’ve met most of us, how do you like Ponyville?”

“It’s nice.” I say. “I certainly can’t say I disliked any of you. Today made me feel a bit better about the whole amnesia thing. Like, that if I never get my memory back, maybe I’ll still be okay.”

Saying that gets me thinking. Is there truth to that? Would I be okay, if I was forced to just blend in? At this point, it’s been so long, I don’t even know. I can’t even picture what it would be like. Regardless, it’s not what I’m here for.

Pinkie breaks the short silence that had fallen. “Hey, Strawberry, why don’t you tell Applejack who your favorite out of us is?”

Applejack gives an “Oh?” and looks at me expectantly.

“What? I don’t have a favorite.” I can feel my face getting hot again. Dang it, why can she get a rise out of me so easy. “You’re all... Equally fine.”

Pinkie leans over and talk-whispers “It’s Rarity” into Applejack’s ear. I scowl at her as my face reddens, and she starts giggling.

Applejack gives that honest laugh again. “Aw, don’t worry Strawberry. I know she’s just messin. I can’t blame her though, you’re cute when you’re flustered.”

“Hmph.” I try to push the feeling away. I’m not flustered, I’m just... Inexperienced. I never usually spend significant time as, well, myself. “I think I need to take a walk to clear my head.”

“Okie Dokie,” Pinkie says cheerfully. “We’ll be on the porch when you’re all good.” Applejack gives her a look, then nods sympathetically towards me.

I break off towards the orchard and exhale hard. This is rough. Pinkie Pie is just so friendly. What kind of person is so genuinely friendly with a stranger? It’s asinine. Doesn’t she know she’ll get hurt?

I shake my head. As I walk through the trees, the fog in my mind slowly starts to lift. A few minutes later and I’m back to calm. Everything’s a learning experience, a way to be stronger in the future, and this is no different.

In the meantime, though, it looks like getting emotional has actually put me in a perfect position to get some work done.

I stop to think. It’s late enough in the day that this will probably be the last thing I can get done today. I’d like to finish up with Fluttershy today, so I should make this something big. The storage barn seems like the perfect target, but what to do with it? It needs to be noisy and destructive, something that can’t be fixed easily. Something fun.

I have some ideas, but I need to see inside the barn to know which will work, so it’s time to go. I shift quickly back into Fluttershy and take to the sky. I’ve finally gotten used to pony wings, so flying isn’t an issue.

Sneaking to the edge of the trees, I look around for other ponies. I’m not ready for attention yet. I’m behind the house, so if they’re on the porch I should be clear. It doesn’t look like anyone else is home, so I carefully tiptoe my way over to the apple storage.

Inside the barn, I start testing things out. Hitting the main support beams shows me that they’re not budging. I try lifting a basket, but they’re heavy enough that I can barely fly with just one. I land on one of the large shelves and jump up and down a bit, and I hear it. A creaking from below, the sound of bending wood. It seems the supports for the shelves aren’t quite up to the task.

It only takes a little searching to find a rope I can use. I find the shelf that seems the most overloaded with apples, one that seems to be barely holding the weight as it is, and tie the rope around the supports. The other end of the rope gets tied into a loop that I hold in my mouth. This is going to hurt.

I grit my teeth and fly full speed ahead. The first time the rope goes taut it snaps me back, flipping me head over hooves and sending me spinning towards the ground. The world swirls around me as I push myself back up. I shake it off and brace myself, then take off again.

The second attempt works beautifully. The rope goes taut and digs at my mouth, but brings with it a deafening crack as the wood gives away. I flip through the air again, but manage to catch myself and refocus. Hovering in place, I watch as the top shelf slowly tips, spilling apples onto the floor below.

The gradual collapse hits a tipping point and suddenly becomes catastrophic. The top shelf gives way, dropping the whole of its load onto the shelf below. This forces the second shelf off the wall entirely, and the force cascades down, a hail of wood and apples.

I’m floating in the air admiring my handiwork when Applejack runs in behind me. “What in tarnation?” She yells. “Fluttershy, what in the sam hill is goin on here?”

I turn towards her and smile. There’s nothing I could say here to improve this. Instead I just take off, zooming over her head. Now I just have to find a quiet spot and- “Get back here!” Applejack yells behind me. I glance over my shoulder. Ah, geez, she’s chasing after me. How is she so fast?

I fly into the trees and start swerving around them. Every time I look back she’s there, keeping pace. Of course, she must know these trees like nobody else. I seems like my only choice is to outrun her, so I redouble my efforts.

Just as I feel like I’m getting some headway, a rope flies past my head. I look back and she’s twirling a lasso in her mouth, readying another volley. The best cover here is the treetops, so I fly into the branches, bracing through the wood crashing against me. A couple more misses grab branches near me before I feel a loop catch over one of my legs and yank me down.

I hit the ground hard. My mind goes blank for a moment, before being filled with a dizzy aching. Before I can get up she’s on top of me, holding me down. “Fluttershy, what is going on?” She asks. Her eyes look blurry, her face distraught. I can feel her distress leaking out, making me feel sick. I shut my eyes tight and look away.

Luckily, she still thinks I’m Fluttershy, so she isn’t using her full strength. “Let me go,” I plead. When she doesn’t, I push up using one wing, making us roll over. It’s enough that I can toss her away from me, and instantly take to the sky away from her.

The rope on my leg goes tight, and I see Applejack standing back up, holding the rope to keep me from flying away. It’s clear I’m not strong enough to make her lose her grip. Fine, I can play at that game.

Instead of away, I fly straight up, pulling her off the ground. I break through the treetops, and soon after she does too, holding the tether like a vice. “Please Applejack, you have to let go!” I shout at her. The world falls away from us. We both know I’m quickly nearing the point where falling would be very bad news. I keep flying straight up; I can’t give her any choice.

A moment later I feel the weight under me drop, and see her falling towards the trees. It’s a long fall, and she has no way to control her landing. Her only hope is for the tree branches to cushion her fall.

She breaks through the foliage, and after what feels like an eternity, I hear a dull thud. I’m tense as I watch, unable to take my eyes away from the spot where she fell. The quiet around me is oppressive. Birds in the distance mock me.

Just as I think that I should go down and check, I hear a string of curses from the forest floor. Relief washes over me instantly. Good enough to curse is good enough for an easy recovery. I didn’t want to hurt her, but I couldn’t be caught. I had no choice.

Then I run away.

I don’t slow down until I see the trees of the orchard give way to the untamed forest, at which point I drop back down to the ground and catch my breath. That was harrowing. I’ve been chased before, of course, but in the past I’ve always handled it without restraint. This time I just… It would have been a problem if I hurt her.

Well, it’s over now. I got away, and there’s no way Applejack will forgive Fluttershy for all that. No amount of denial can take away the image of your friend dropping you out of the sky. Now I just need to meet back up with Pinkie and go home.

I look around to check my cover and see a treehouse nearby, bustling with activity. It’s actually a little fortunate; something calmer ought to help me cool down. I float over to the entrance and knock on their wall. “Hello?” I say.

Inside are the three smallest ponies I’ve ever seen. I didn’t realize pony children would be this small. It’s adorable.

The orange one is drawing incomprehensible diagrams on a chalkboard while the other two watch. They all turn to me as I walk in. “Oh, hi Fluttershy!” the yellow one says. “What brings you around here?”

“Oh, I was just nearby, and thought I’d come say hello,” I respond. “See how you all are doing. What are you up to?” I smile at them softly.

“Oh, we’re trying to get our cutie marks in trebuchet expertise!” the white one says excitedly. “Scootaloo is making the designs, while Applebloom picks the materials, and I’m gonna choose the targets!” She beams in pride.

“Aww,” I say. I try to make my face into a melancholy expression. “That is so...” I sigh.

Applebloom gives me a confused look. “What’s the matter, Fluttershy? That’s a weird reaction.”

I shake my head. “It’s just… I find it so sweet how children can have so much hope for something impossible.” The three gasp, stunned. “I mean,” I continue, “everyone knows that if you were going to get a cutie mark, you would have already gotten an apple one like the rest of your family. And yet you press on. It’s just so admirable.”

The three are speechless. They haven’t even processed what I said enough to know how upset to be. I decide not to stick around to see it though. “Well, I have to get going,” I say, shooting them a kind smile. “It was nice seeing you.”

I fly away from the little clubhouse with a smile. Those are sweet kids. Talking to them really calmed my nerves.

Chapter 4

I can’t sleep.

Every time I close my eyes I see Applejack falling. Turning, tumbling through the air, never landing. Her eyes locked to mine, dredging up anxiety like a fish hook in my mind. Reliving that fear I felt, that fear I had never felt before, that fear of what might be.

I don’t understand why. When I got back to the farm, she was fine. Scraped up and bruised, but nothing permanent. More rattled than anything. Pinkie just sent me home, saying she wanted to stay and look after Applejack. Everything went exactly how it was meant to.

So why can’t I sleep?

Maybe I just need more closure. These ponies have proven to be remarkably resistant to anger and doubt. I must not be completely convinced I did enough. I should go see for myself, watch the fallout. Eliminate my fears.

I tiptoe quietly out of the basement and look around. No sign of Pinkie; she must not be home yet. That’s good, I don’t need her following me. Still, better safe than sorry; it’s sneaking from here on out.

It’s dark when I step outside, and the streets are empty. Ponyville has few streetlights, most light coming from the houses where people aren’t yet asleep. It leaves the streets looking dreary. Seas of shadow surrounding havens of light which could vanish at any moment.

Pinkie mentioned where Fluttershy lives, so I walk in that direction. It’s calm outside. The silence wraps around me like an old friend. The chill that sweeps over me is as cozy as any blanket. My mind calms, my nerves settle. But that anxiety still digs at me, in the back of my mind.

The empty streets are eerie. The ponies here are so noisy, so lively, it feels like a different world without them. It's like this whole world was built so ponies could be together, and when you're alone the world itself leaves you behind too.

Soon I come up to a cottage on top of a hill, surrounded by greenery and wildlife. The house looks like it’s made of nature itself. All green and overgrown, like it doesn’t want to get in the way of the grass. This must be the place. I can see the three children sitting out front. Things must already be happening in there.

Sneaking around to the side, I find a vantage point where I can crouch on the hill and see inside a lit window. Two ponies are silhouetted against the light. The tall one shrinking into herself must be Fluttershy, so presumably the other is Applejack.

It's hard to tell, but the two ponies look sluggish, tired. I get the impression they've been arguing for a while, or at least very vigorously. That's all I can read from them though.

I’m too far to hear anything, and their body language isn’t telling me what I need to know. If I want to be absolutely sure, I need to crawl closer.

“-just don’t get it, Fluttershy.” I hear as I get close enough. That’s Applejack for sure. “It just don’t make sense.” She sounds exhausted.

“I don’t remember it at all,” Fluttershy whimpers. She’s barely getting the words out. “And why would I say those awful things to Applebloom? I’ve always seen so much potential in her, I could never.”

“I know, I know,” Applejack says. “But it was you.”

“But how can you be so sure?” Fluttershy replies. Her voice cracks as she speaks, probably holding back tears.

“I saw your face, Fluttershy. Ain’t no doppelganger that would look at me like… like that.” Like what? I don’t think I looked at her strangely.

“I just- I don’t-” Fluttershy stutters and her voice trails off.

I see Applejack walk up to her. It’s slow and measured, like she’s moving in slow motion. She raises a hoof as she gets close, and I wince, expecting violence, but then she sets her hoof gently on Fluttershy’s shoulder.

“We’ll get this sorted,” Applejack says, as calm as I’ve ever heard her.

Fluttershy collapses against Applejack. I’m dumbfounded. She’s positive it was Fluttershy, but she’s just brushing past being dropped out of the sky? She should be furious, she should barely be able to contain herself. How is she offering to help? It just doesn’t work like that!

My brain is on fire. The world goes dark around me. None of this makes any sense, it goes against everything I know. I have to leave, walk, calm myself down. I need to.. I need to think.

I walk down the hill behind the cottage. Forget going back to Pinkie’s tonight, I need to be alone to figure this out. Ponies just… they don’t work the same. I have to figure out how to get to them. How to get through.

I’m near the woods behind Fluttershy’s house when a voice behind me says “Enjoy the show?” It scares me so bad I leap into the air and fall flat on my face. The voice snorts out a laugh as I see a pair of blue hooves land next to me.

Above me is a tall, toned pegasus, blue fur and a technicolor mane standing stark against the night sky. She’s got a mischievous smile on her face. “What?” I sputter out. “Who are you?”

“I’m your last introduction,” she says. “Come on, get up, walk with me.” She prods me in the side and starts walking away, so I get up and follow.

She takes me along barren back roads of Ponyville, roads with few houses and even less ponies. I have no idea where she’s leading me; Pinkie certainly never took me this way. “You’re Rainbow Dash?” I ask her.

“The one and only,” she says with a grin. “I wanted to make a bigger first impression than Pinkie, but then I saw you at Fluttershy’s place. I probly wasn’t gonna beat the basement suite anyway.”

“Have you been following us?” I ask. That’s a problem if so.

“A bit,” she replies. “I wanted to get a good look atcha before diving in. Pinkie’s so friendly I knew she’d have the others likin you in no time, so I figured I should hang back and see how things went.”

“Hm. Alright. Well, what did you think?” I need to find out if she’s suspicious of me.

“I dunno really! I never was good at getting a read on people.” She laughs and smiles at me. “Guess I’m too trusting. How about you tell me? Who is Strawberry Tart?”

I have no idea how to answer that. How do you describe a facade of yourself? The question leaves me thinking. Eventually, I just say “I don’t know. I guess I haven’t figured it out yet.”

“Well, consider that a good thing,” she says. “If you don’t know who you are, that means you can be anyone. Come on, this way.”

She breaks off ahead of me and turns down a side street. She seems to know where we’re going, at least. She’s a bit ahead of me now, and looking straight ahead, away from me. Almost like she forgot I was here.

Silence falls over us. There are no lights on the street we’re on, no ponies, not even crickets from the sound of it. Just me and her, lit by a dim moon. I’ve never felt so isolated. A chill runs over me again.

“So,” she says after an agonizing pause, “wanna tell me what you were doing at Fluttershy’s?”

I look at the ground. What can I say? “I just…” I pause. “I wanted to see what happened.”

“Yeah,” Rainbow Dash says dryly.

Another pause. She still isn’t looking at me.

“And?” She continues.

“Huh?”

“What did you see?”

“Well,” I say, then think for a moment. “I guess I saw Applejack forgive her. Or something like that.”

“Something like that,” Rainbow Dash repeats. Suddenly she stops, turning and looking straight at me. “What happened next?”

The cold night air is reaching down to my bones. I look into her eyes, but I can’t make anything of her expression. I don’t know if it’s because it’s dark, or because I’m frazzled, or both, but I have no idea what she wants to hear from me.

I think for a long moment, trying to find the right answer. The wind howls. Leaves fly past. What can I say?

I guess I should say the truth. “I just,” I start, then stop again. Then start again, “I don’t get it. She dropped Applejack out of the sky. Applejack could have died! How do you just… ignore that? How can you stay friends? It goes against everything I know.”

Rainbow Dash doesn’t respond. She just looks into my eyes. It’s difficult to keep eye contact, but I do. Whatever she wants from me, I need to find a way to give it to her.

Eventually, she motions for me to follow her again, and I do. She doesn’t say anything else for the rest of the walk, but it’s long. She takes me all over Ponyville and back again. Through alleys, around ponds. It feels like she shows me every little part of the town. The good and the bad. Places filled with joy, and then places stained with sadness. A bright town under the hold of darkness.

We walk for an hour, maybe two. Her ahead, me behind. She leads, I follow. She could have kept me walking until the sun came up, but eventually we stop, right in front of Sugarcube Corner.

She turns and looks me in the eyes again, the first time she’s looked at me since she went silent. It makes me wince, but I don’t know why. She doesn’t look angry, or upset, or even particularly serious. She’s just looking.

“For the record,” she says after an eternity, “I would have caught Applejack if she went too high.”

Then she flies away.

Chapter 5

I yawn and stretch, dropping the sheet I was using as cover to the floor. The sun hits my eyes as I pry them open. What time is it? The basement around me is coated in a soft, warm light that streams in through the window. The morning air is fresh and crisp. I consider rolling over and going back to sleep, but it’s too late for that, so I push myself up.

Something feels strange. The air is still, the room is warm, but something still isn’t right. I slump off the sofa and onto my hooves, stretching again. Why does it feel like something’s missing?

Pinkie. That’s it. She didn’t wake me up. I had assumed that would be my daily routine. I guess she decided I didn’t need a bouncy pink alarm clock today. Not that I’m complaining, I appreciate every moment of quiet I can get. I savor it for a long moment, closing my eyes and taking in the calm, but not too long. I’ve got things to do.

Walking out to the lobby of Sugarcube Corner, I’m shocked to see there are actually other ponies here. A couple are sitting and chatting at tables, and one is at the counter getting a box of donuts. Behind that counter is Pinkie Pie, bouncing in place and beaming at the ponies like old friends. I guess she really does work.

I watch her as she does her job. She tackles it with the same fervor she does everything else, hopping and skipping along with a smile on her face. She thanks the customer by name, and I wonder if she knows everybody who comes in here. I wouldn't put it past her.

After the pony at the counter leaves, Pinkie spots me and waves enthusiastically. “Strawberry! Good morning!” she says, loud enough for everyone in the building to hear. “Come over here!”

All the ponies in the building are looking at me now as I walk over. It’s extremely uncomfortable, and makes me look away. “Morning, Pinkie,” I half-mumble as I reach her. “I was surprised you let me sleep in.”

“Yeah, I gotta work,” she says. She pouts and leans on the counter, resting her head on her hooves. “I’m not gonna be able to hang out this morning.”

“Well, would you like me to stay and help?” I ask. I’d rather not, but I don’t want to seem too distant.

“Oh, nah,” she says. “I’ve got it covered. And you shouldn’t be doin work for a while anyway cuz of the amnesia, it’s bad for ya.” She smiles sweetly. It’s the most subdued expression I’ve ever seen on her, but somehow that makes it stand out. “Doctor Pinkie recommends going outside and having fun. That’ll keep ya goin,” she says with a wink.

I shrug. “Well, if you’re sure. Thanks, I’ll go try to enjoy myself. I’ll see you later,” I say, and start to walk away.

“Wait!” Pinkie shouts, and hops over to me. Before I can ask why, she grabs me and gives me a tight hug. It’s unexpected, and uncomfortable. Luckily, it doesn’t last long. “Gotta get your daily recommended dose of Pinkie hugs. Okie doki, see ya!”

She trots away, so I turn and walk out. It looks like the other ponies have already forgotten I showed up, lost in their own private worlds. Seems like I was embarrassed for nothing.

It’s a warm, sunny day outside. The streets are already bustling, ponies going every which way. Chatter fills the air. Pinkie’s right, some fun and relaxation will probably be good for me. A day off from the bigger picture, just finding fun in the town. Working the old fashioned way. I think I’ll start at the market.

The market square in Ponyville is an absolute mob. It’s a huge pavilion, ponies looking to sell their wares set up in a labyrinth of stalls. Other ponies fill the streets, some for shopping, others just to talk. The crowds get thicker around the more popular shops, places selling apples or sweets or just places with friendly shopkeepers, and at the worst of it I have to literally push my way through the crowd. It’s a lot, but I can make use of it. Nobody will notice my eavesdropping in a place like this.

I wander aimlessly, pretending to look at the shops as I listen in on random conversations. A confession of love in one direction. Tense bartering in another. Behind me one pony trips another and starts an argument. Opportunities everywhere, but none which catch my fancy.

“-can’t believe Applebloom would miss out on this,” I hear from a squeaky voice ahead of me. This could be interesting. I look through the crowds to find the source, and spot a tiny pegasus flapping around and snapping photos. Around him several other children are laughing and playing.

A pink pony nearby responds to him. “Yes, it really is unlike those three to miss a field trip, isn’t it? Skipping school is one thing, but they knew we were going to go talk to ponies about their jobs today. You’d think that would excite them more than anyone.” So it’s a school trip. Sounds like those three kids I met didn’t show up today. At least yesterday wasn’t a complete failure.

Might as well keep pulling that thread. I know enough about the children to use here, and that teacher looks swamped. I bet I can think of a way to lighten her load.

I look around to see if there’s any cover. This many ponies being around makes it tough to find somewhere empty. Behind an empty stall? No, the other stalls are too close. There’s no way a distraction could give me enough cover. I’m gonna have to leave the pavilion.

The side street I turn onto proves to be much more manageable. There’s still ponies, mostly the ones going in or out of the market, but none of them are sticking around to clog things up. I take a quick look around, and spot an alley between a couple buildings that looks nice and dark, so I make my way over and duck inside.

Once I’m sure the coast is clear, I start the change. The world magnifies around me. Buildings become skyscrapers, other ponies seem like giants. I’ve never gotten used to pretending to be a kid, but this one should be easy. Just as long as I got the look down, and I know I did. I think this one was Scootaloo? Whatever, names don’t matter.

Making my way back to the market, I search around for the school group. It’s a lot harder now with this tiny body. Walls of fur and hooves in every direction, constantly shifting. I push my way through, dodging and weaving past legs to where the kids were before.

When I reach that spot they’re gone, surely having moved on. I start looking all around me, struggling to see past the adults around me, worried I missed my window. I have no way of knowing which way they went.

“Scootaloo?” comes a voice behind me. I wheel around to see the huge form of the teacher in front of me. Behind her is the crowd of children, looking at me quizzically. “I didn’t expect to see you today,” she continues. “What a pleasant surprise.”

I try my best to look as scared as possible. I was never very good at playing children. They feel their emotions too purely to emulate, but I do my best. “Teacher, you gotta help!” I cry out. “It’s Applebloom, she got stuck down in the well at the farm, and nobody else is there! Please, you gotta do something!” My eyes are locked to hers, trying to convince her of my fear.

She lights up in shock. “Oh no!” she exclaims. “Okay, um. Don’t worry Scootaloo, I’ll do everything I can. Kids, you all stick together and don’t move from this spot, okay? I’ll be back as soon as I can be.” She pats me on the head to try and reassure me, and rushes off towards the farm.

I drop my mock fear and replace it with a smile as I turn to the other kids. “Got her!” I say excitedly, which the children meet with resounding confusion. “C’mon, guys, don’t you remember?” I say. “Today’s the anniversary of when she became a teacher! Me and the others are puttin on a surprise party.”

The other kids give me 'oh's and 'ah's, nodding along. The tiny one speaks up. “But uh, why’d you have to get rid of her for that? Where’s the party happening?”

“It’s happening right here, dummy,” I respond. “We’re all gonna hide before she gets back, and then jump out and surprise her!”

A short and chubby kid speaks up. “But wouldn’t that scare her?” he says.

“Only for a bit,” I say. “Then she’ll love it, trust me. All you guys gotta do is hide, it’s easy.” Steadily, the kids look at each other, then come around on it and agree. As they start to leave to hide I stop them and say “Oh, right, and don’t jump out until me and the others show up with a cake for her! You’ll see it happen.”

With that the group breaks up, and I return to the alley and turn back into Strawberry Tart. Now all that’s left is to wait for the show to start.

I find a bench in the pavilion and get comfortable. The nice thing about ponies is they’re not very big, so just sitting on a bench gives me enough of a vantage point to be able to see most of the crowd. Like sitting on a beach overlooking a sea of pastels.

I try to spot the kids, but they’ve completely vanished. The market is filled with places for children to hide, underneath stalls or in bushes or up trees. It would be a nightmare trying to find them in this crowd. The thought makes me chuckle.

“I thought I recognized that adorable laugh,” I hear from nearby. I look over and see Rarity, lugging around an overloaded shopping bag and smiling at me. She trots over and sits next to me. “It’s wonderful to see you again, Strawberry. I felt just dreadful about how our last visit ended.”

“Oh, don’t worry about it,” I assure her. “I’m just glad to see you’re still in good spirits. Yesterday was a bit of a whirlwind.”

“Oh, tell me about it,” Rarity says. “After I finished cleaning, I went straight over to Fluttershy’s house to check on her, and she said she had no idea what I was talking about! Oh, the poor thing. I hope there’s not some bug going around, giving people memory loss.”

“Would that explain the strange behavior though? I mean, did you hear about what happened with Applejack?”

“Oh, yes, my sister Sweetie Belle stayed with me last night and told me all about it,” Rarity says. She sighs deeply. “She was so torn up about it all, she couldn’t even get out of bed this morning. I haven’t seen her in a funk this bad in ages. It’s just absolutely heartbreaking to see her going through that. I mean, I know Fluttershy well enough to know something must have happened, but for children…” She shakes her head and sighs again.

I frown. I didn’t realize one of the kids was Rarity’s sister. It’s difficult to see her hurting like this. Maybe it was a mistake to get in this deep. I thought I could handle it, but it’s looking more and more like I’m just not prepared.

Maybe I should just call this one a loss. It’s not too late to start over in another town. Think up a proper cover story, keep my distance, do things right. All I’d have to do is just… not go back to Pinkie’s tonight. I just met her, she’d have no reason to worry if I disappeared.

Rarity looks over at me and tsks. “Oh, dear, there’s no need to look so down,” she says. “We’ve bounced back from worse than this. You just focus on your own troubles. Friends help each other, but we wouldn’t be very good friends if we let you hurt yourself to help us, now would we?” She rubs my shoulder reassuringly.

“I- Thank you, Rarity,” I say.

“Now, tell me,” she says, “how are you settling in so far? Are you enjoying Ponyville?”

I think for a moment. For some reason, I’m having trouble just coming up with convenient lies to these questions. “I’m not sure,” I say after a bit. “I guess it’s not what I expected. Back when I met Pinkie, I figured things would be easy. Just be myself, and things would go smoothly. Then I met more of you, and it turns out being myself is a lot more complicated than I expected. It makes me think maybe it wasn’t such a good idea after all.”

“Oh, come now,” Rarity says. “Of course it was a good idea. Who else could you be, after all? You’re finding more of yourself than just what's on the surface, but that’s not a bad thing. Those parts of you that you find can shine brighter than any diamond. And hey, when things do get tough, we’ll be there. After all, friends help each other, right?”

Maybe she’s right. Maybe if I just settled down and learned to be myself, things would work out. But the thing is, I can be someone else. Someone who’s not me, someone whose pain I won’t feel. Why would I risk being myself?

Still, hearing her say it brings a smile to my face. She smiles back, a warm, gentle smile. Then, out of nowhere, she hugs me. It shocks me like nothing else ever has. It’s nothing like the hug from Pinkie earlier. That one was genuine, but I just tuned it out. This one… maybe it's because I was already opening up, but it makes me feel like I can actually trust the pony hugging me. The feeling burns inside me, turning my thoughts to static, making my cheeks flare up.

Then it ends. The world rushes back, and as quickly as it came, that brief trust is forgotten. Pushed out by the pain of reality. The knowledge that no level of trust is a guarantee of safety.

My face is still flushed, and Rarity giggles. “You’re going to have to get used to hugs if you’re living with Pinkie Pie, you know.”

I push the feelings away, catch my breath. “I know,” I say. “I’ll get there.”

Rarity nods. “Speaking of which,” she says, “I still have to come over and make sure you have an actual room.”

“Oh, uh, I-” I begin, but she cuts me off.

“No objections!” She says. “I’ll be over at 8 o’clock sharp, and you had better not be late! If you are, I’ll just have to choose the decorations myself.” She gives a sly smile, and I smile back.

“Well, I should be off,” Rarity says, getting up from the bench. “I’ve many more chores to- Oh my!” Rarity jumps back as a blur flies past her. “What in the world?”

I follow her gaze into the crowd to find the cause of the commotion. I must have been more engrossed in the conversation with Rarity than I thought, because I hadn’t even noticed, but it seems the teacher has returned. She’s in a frenzy, running around searching for the children.

“Why, that’s Cheerilee!” Rarity exclaims. “Oh, something dreadful must have happened. We should go see if we can help.”

“Huh?” I say. “What could I possibly do?”

“I haven’t a clue,” she replies, “but we’ll never know unless we go try.”

Rarity rushes off, and I find myself galloping after her. I really shouldn’t, but for some reason I can’t seem to say no. As we approach, the teacher spots Rarity and springs towards her.

“Oh, Rarity!” Cheerilee says frantically. “Thank goodness, I need your help.”

“All right, all right, I’m here,” Rarity says, placing a hoof on her shoulder. Cheerilee calms down immediately, still frightened, but no longer in a panicked frenzy. “Just tell me what happened and I’ll do everything I can.”

“The children have vanished!” Cheerilee tells her. “We were here together, then I had to leave them for a few minutes, and when I got back there wasn’t a single one in sight. Oh, Rarity, I’m just so worried. What if something has happened to them?” I can see tears welling up.

Rarity pats her cheek reassuringly. “Oh, dear, it’s all right. They’re children, sometimes children just wander off. We’ll find them.” Then she looks over at me. Her sympathy is clear on her face. “Strawberry, you were here before me, did you see anything out of the ordinary?”

“No, I-” I start, but then my eyes meet Rarity’s and I choke on the words. The way she’s looking at me, so hopeful, so… trusting. She doesn’t even know me, why is she putting so much faith in me? It’s so easy for me to just lie, to betray her, to- to hurt her. She isn’t even considering it, she’s just looking at me with all the trust in the world.

It breaks me. “I, uh,” I choke out. The words are heavy in my throat. “I think that…" I look away from Rarity, stare into the cold ground. "Yeah, um, I heard a kid say something about hiding for a prank.” My ears are ringing, and there’s a knot in my gut.

The ringing in my ears seems to spread through my body. My vision blurs, my legs go numb. The noises of the outside world are drowned in the cacophony in my mind, white noise under a waterfall. It overwhelms me.

I barely register the world around me as things go on. Cheerilee collapsing in relief, Rarity comforting her. Shapes move around me. The two ponies vanish, I guess to go find the children, but I just stand in place in the crowd. This burning, sick feeling inside me has rooted me in place. My mind sits blank as a cold fire spreads through my veins.

Then I feel a hoof on my chin, pulling my face up, and the world comes back into view. Blurs become shapes become ponies, ringing becomes noise becomes chatter. My body still feels hot, but I can think again.

I have no idea how long it’s been. In front of me is Rarity, gentle smile, overstuffed shopping bag and all. Not a drop of pain in her expression, just compassion.

“We found them,” She says, and points in a direction. Following the line, I see Cheerilee waving at me, surrounded by children. “See? You never know unless you try.”

“I, um,” I stammer. What do I say here? I settle for just “I’m sorry.”

Rarity laughs and shakes her head. “Remember,” she says matter-of-factly, “8 o’clock sharp.” Then she shoots me another grin, turns and trots away.

I don’t know how much longer I can stand being in Ponyville.

Chapter 7

Pinkie and I sit on opposite sides of the tree, neither of us talking. I gaze out over the landscape, watching the ponies in the park. Ponies cycle through the park, a stream of faces that flows off my mind. The friends from earlier vanish into the streets of Ponyville. The occasional cloud cloaks the world in darkness as the day passes us by.

I watch a duck take off from the water, tracing its path through the air. Slow, meandering turns, seemingly at random. The creature follows its whims, driven by instinct, swooping and diving on the winds. Then it lands, back in the water, right where it started.

Pinkie can’t change me. She saw me get emotional and thinks that betrays something deeper, but it’s an illusion. A mirage in a desert. Once that passes, which it will, she’ll see what’s left of me and beg me to leave.

Until then it’s a waiting game, laying low and following orders. I can’t imagine it’ll be easy to get by without indulging myself, but I may not have to. Pinkie Pie is too nice for her own good, so she’s liable to give me at least some time to myself.

The duck takes off again.

“Twilight still isn’t back,” Pinkie says, finally speaking back up. Her voice is dry and dull. No cracking, no emotion, just a hollow emptiness.

“That makes sense,” I respond.

“Why did you make her go to Canterlot?” Pinkie asks, although it doesn’t really sound like a question.

“It was a significant escalation without any harm or property damage,” I say. “To make it seem more natural.”

Pinkie goes quiet again. Out in the park a game of disc golf starts, and then finishes.

“Why Fluttershy?” she asks next.

“She was the only other pony in your group I’d met at that point,” I explain.

The duck lands back in the water.

“Why…” She pauses. “Why do you want to make ponies hurt.”

This time I go quiet. I’m not sure how to answer that. I try to conjure up reasons in my mind, but in the end the only thing I can think to say is “It’s just what I do.”

“That’s not an answer,” she tells me.

“It’s the only answer I have,” I reply. “Monsters are made to do monstrous things.”

The day goes on around us. Eventually we’re the only ponies left in the park, the rest having moved on with their lives.

“We should go home,” Pinkie says, standing up. I follow suit, getting up to follow her, and catch her gaze for the first time in hours. She looks flat. Devoid of her usual energy, her spark of life. Her eyes are hazed and empty. I see no trace of the Pinkie Pie who found me in the forest, and I’m not sure I ever will again.

The duck takes off again.

The sun starts to set as we walk back to Sugarcube Corner. A chill in the air ushers the ponies still on the streets back to their homes. The walk back is silent, both from us and the world around us. No birds, no insects. Not even the wind seems willing to disturb the quiet.

When we get back, Pinkie goes inside without a word, but I decide to stay outside a moment and watch the sky darken. I’ve always loved the sunset. The peaceful contemplation of twilight. A solemn meditation.

The sound of wheels on stone breaks through the omnipresent silence. I look down to investigate.

Down the street is a small cart, laden with supplies and headed my way. Guiding it is Rarity, her perfect poise undisturbed by the heavy load. She smiles as we catch eyes.

“Well, that’s a relief,” Rarity says as she reaches me. “I was seriously worried that I might have to let Pinkie Pie choose your decorations.”

“Oh, Rarity,” I say, “right, I completely forgot. I, uh, I think-”

“Oh, hush,” she says, cutting me off. “I’ll have none of that. I’m not going to let your anxieties convince you not to have any fun. Besides, this isn’t just for you.” She gestures behind the cart, and looking back I see one of the children from that group kicking at the dirt. “Sweetie Belle is still all in a tither, so I brought her along for a nice healthy dose of Pinkie Pie to cheer her up.”

I wince, but I don’t know what to say. I just stand speechless as Rarity gives me another grin and walks inside. Sweetie Belle follows, giving me a polite but half-hearted smile as she passes. Reluctantly, I go in after them.

Inside, Pinkie is sitting at one of the tables in the lobby, head in her hooves, staring at the wall. Rarity notices her right away and gasps, dropping her things on the floor and heading over to the table. “Oh, Pinkie, dear, what’s the matter?” she asks, squeezing her friend tight. “What can I do to help you?”

I stand in the doorway awkwardly. I don’t think Rarity is going to be able to fix this, but I know for sure I can’t. I just have to stand by and hope that Pinkie’s mood doesn’t drive her to tell Rarity about me.

“Bad day,” Pinkie responds dryly. “Don’t wanna talk about it.” That’s a relief, at least. Seems that I’m safe for now.

Rarity gently strokes Pinkie’s mane. “That’s all right, honey,” she says softly. “You don’t have to. You just let me know what you need.”

Pinkie’s only response is a weak shrug, so Rarity continues on her own. “Oh, how about this,” she says. “I came over today to help Strawberry decorate their room. You and Sweetie Belle can join us! An impromptu little party, what do you say?”

Pinkie makes a noncommittal noise, so Rarity squeezes her again and pats her back. “Trust me,” she says, “a bit of fun will perk you right back up. Let’s all go downstairs, yes?”

Rarity doesn’t give Pinkie a chance to object. She loads up on supplies and heads downstairs on her own. It’s clear she’s putting on a cheerful face for Pinkie’s sake, but it seems to be at least partially genuine, or otherwise well practiced.

Pinkie watches her go without emotion, just staring at the door after Rarity disappears through it. For a second I can’t tell if she’s going to do anything at all. Then, slowly, she pushes herself up and walks heavily down the stairs. Sweetie Belle and I silently gather up the rest of Rarity’s supplies and head down to join them.

In the basement, Pinkie is laying on the sofa staring at the ceiling, while Rarity busies herself organizing her things. We add our loads to the pile and wait, unsure of how to help. Rarity seems content on setting up her workstation herself, anyway.

A minute later Rarity claps her hooves together and smiles at us all. “All right!” she says excitedly. “Let’s begin, shall we? We’re gonna give this dingy old place a full makeover!”

“I kinda thought you were just gonna pick out a design yourself,” I tell her. “I don’t really know anything about this stuff.”

“Well, where’s the fun in that?” Rarity replies. “My job is to give you the tools you need to do what you want. So, with that in mind, the first step is to pick a base. The background color of the room, you might say. Any ideas?”

“Uhh, maybe like a dark green?” I say. I’m really not sure, but that seems alright.

“Pink,” Pinkie says dryly. I purse my lips.

“Hmm…” Rarity hums. “Already at an impasse. How can we settle this… Oh! Sweetie Belle!”

“Huh?” the little pony snaps to attention from the corner of the room, where she had been idly reading boxes.

“You get to be the deciding vote,” Rarity tells her. “Green or pink?”

“Do I have to?” Sweetie Belle asks. “I kinda just wanna sit this one out.”

“Yup,” Rarity replies, her tone playful but assertive. “We need you if we want to decide anything at all. Just trust your gut, honey. I know I do.”

Sweetie Belle seems to be swayed by the vote of confidence. “Okay, fine,” she says. “I guess the green seems better for a basement.” Thank goodness.

Rarity smiles and skips over to a box full of cards with colors on them. She digs through it and pulls out cards, holding them up against the wall. Eventually she picks a subtle green, and drops the card on the floor where we can all see it.

“Excellent!” Rarity says. “Okay, now we need an accent. Something that fits well with the base, but can really pop out against it. Thoughts?”

“I think some kind of brown might work?” I say. “Like a medium brightness one.”

“Purple,” says Pinkie. If she stares at the ceiling any harder she’s liable to bore a hole through it.

“Sweetie Belle?” asks Rarity.

Sweetie Belle puts her hoof on her chin in thought. Looks like she’s getting engrossed in her role. “I’m gonna go with the purple,” she finally says.

I groan as Rarity digs through her box of colors. “No complaints, now,” Rarity says as compares cards against the first. “You both have a fair shot at winning, you just have to impress the judge.”

To my surprise, the card she places down in the end is fairly tame. It’s much darker than I would imagine for purple. It doesn’t look too bad.

“Okay, now we get to the fun part!” Rarity says, grinning wide. “We have to decide how to use the accent color. It can be anything at all. Just imagine the base on the walls and think of where you would put the accents.”

“Geez, I don’t know,” I reply. “I guess just curtains and stuff? I don’t really know where else it would go.”

“Paint a mural,” Pinkie says. She turns over onto her side and points at the wall. “Balloons or something.”

Sweetie Belle’s eyes light up. “Ooh, I like that. I bet we could paint something really nice, like, curving around the edges or something.” I groan, and she giggles at me, hopping in place.

“Oh, I love that,” Rarity says. “Wonderful, simply wonderful. Just one more decision, now. I simply cannot let that ratty old sofa go untouched. A full reupholstery would leave you bedless for too long, but for now we can make do with just a cover. A good sofa cover is surprisingly transformative. We just need a design.” She looks around at us all expectantly.

“I mean, it’s pretty much just a sheet, right? So, white?” I shrug.

“Stripey pink,” Pinkie retorts. We both look over to Sweetie Belle.

“White is pretty boring,” she says. “I gotta go with Pinkie.”

“Oh, come on!” I say. “What’s wrong with boring?”

Sweetie Belle blows a raspberry at me, and there’s a snort of laughter from the sofa. I look over, but Pinkie’s already stifled it, forcing a frown and turning over to face away from us. Still, I’m surprised to have heard a laugh at all.

Rarity is beaming as she trots over to a chest full of fabrics. After a minute of searching she pulls out a huge sheet, striped with what looks to be six different shades of pink. I can’t imagine anypony other than Pinkie Pie using this pattern, so I can only assume Rarity stocks it purely for Pinkie.

She takes the sheet over to the couch and holds it above it. “Alright, Pinkie, are you going to let me put the cover on?” Pinkie just grunts in response, so Rarity shrugs and says “Fine then.” She drops the cover onto the couch, completely covering Pinkie.

We all stare at the lump in the sheet. She’s not moving, but Rarity is smiling like she’s certain this will work. I can’t seem to muster up the same confidence.

Then, from under the cover, there’s a snort. The snort is followed by a giggle, the giggle by a chortle, and finally the chortle is replaced with full-on laughter.

A sea of tension drains out of the room. Rarity claps and hops up and down in a surprisingly undignified gesture. Sweetie Belle gets caught up in the laughter as Pinkie starts flailing against the sheet on top of her, fighting it in a way that only serves to get her tangled up more.

Then her head pops out, and it’s clear as day; Pinkie’s back. The color, the brightness, the life all radiating out from her smiling face. She beams at us as though she was never upset in the first place. I smile back, shockingly relieved. At least my time stuck here won’t be highlighted by Pinkie’s depression.

We spend a couple hours putting the plans we made into action. Painting the walls, then the murals, which turn out okay. Rarity and Sweetie Belle sketch out a design on the wall for us to fill. They frame the room, curving up from the floor at the corners in a subtle, unobtrusive way.

Pinkie micromanages me the whole time, hovering over me and giving me menial jobs to do. Go over that wall again, scrub these brushes. It’s tiring, but at least she’s grinning while doing it.

“You know, kid, I gotta say,” I say to Sweetie Belle as she and Rarity are leaving later, “your instincts worked out. You might have a real future with this stuff.” Rarity tousles her mane and showers her with praise as the two head into the darkness outside.

After they’re gone, Pinkie comes up to me in the lobby. “Hey, go sit at one of the tables,” she tells me. “I’ve got somethin for ya.”

I nod and do so, getting comfortable while she goes back into the kitchen. A few minutes later she shows back up, carrying a tray with two big mugs on it. I raise my eyebrows at her. “Tea?” I ask.

“Hot chocolate,” she replies with a grin as she puts them on the table. “I always make some after a long day.” She hops into the seat across from me and sighs. A tired sigh.

We sit there in silence for a few minutes, sipping our drinks together. Eventually, I decide to speak up. “So, now what?” I ask her.

“I dunno,” she says. “Guess we gotta figure that out tomorrow.”

“You can’t fix me,” I tell her.

“I can’t not try,” she responds.

I think for a bit, then say “Even if you do, that won’t make the things I’ve done go away.”

“I know,” she says. “That just means you’ll be stuck with me til you make up for em.” With how she smiles as she says that, it’s like she doesn’t have a doubt in her mind.

We finish the drinks without talking. Just sitting next to each other as we decompress. Crickets chirp in the dark outside, a clock ticks on the wall. We don’t drink in a hurry.

After I finish, I look up at her. “I just don’t understand why,” I tell her. “Why would you even want to be near me, much less try to help me?”

She laughs. A soft, measured laugh, not grating like they usually are. “Like I told ya,” she tells me, “you’re my friend.” She reaches out and taps me on the nose, then gets up and bounces away up to her room before I can respond.

Chapter 8

BEEP BEEP BEEP

Ugh. It’s too early for this. There’s not even light coming in through the window. I groan out “snooze” in a half-asleep stupor and roll over. Maybe if I just ignore the noise it’ll stop.

BEEP BEEP BEEP

Dang it. I’m too awake now to get back to sleep. “Fine, fine, I’m awake,” I grumble as I push myself up and tumble off the sofa. “Geez.”

“BEEP BEEP BE- Oh, okay!” Pinkie mercifully stops beeping at me and chuckles. “Well, hurry up and get ready then. We’ve got a big day ahead of us!”

A few minutes later we’re out the door and into the chilly dawn. The sun is barely visible over the horizon, and a breeze runs through the streets. I yawn wide and shiver as we start to walk. Pinkie seems oblivious to the cold, hopping along beside me and smiling at the world.

“So what exactly is your plan here?” I ask after a few minutes. “I don’t get how you plan to ‘make me good’ or whatever.”

“I dunno,” she replies. “I figured I’d just kinda wing it. I’m sure somethin will come to me eventually.”

I wince. “If you don’t even have a plan, I can’t see this lasting very long,” I tell her. “You’re just gonna get yourself hurt.”

“We’ll see,” she hums. “I’m a pretty stubborn little pony.”

I sigh. “Well, do you at least know where we’re going?” I ask her. “This definitely won’t work if we just walk around all day.”

She giggles. “Well, I figure we’ll start where you started. There’s no way you woulda picked Fluttershy if you knew her better, so we’re gonna go make that happen.”

“I told you, I only picked her because she was the only other pony who I knew you were friends with,” I say. “How I felt about Fluttershy had absolutely nothing to do with it.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Pinkie says, “all super logical. Y’know, Rarity told me about what happened at the market. Where was the logic in helping Cheerilee, huh?”

“Well, I…” I stutter. I know there was a reason. I felt like I had to, my gut was telling me things would go bad if I didn’t. It was instinct. I don’t know how to explain that to Pinkie though. “Why did Rarity tell you what happened?” I ask instead.

“She was worried about you, dummy,” Pinkie says. She looks over and rolls her eyes at me. “Rarity’s good with breakdowns and stuff. She wanted to ask if I might’ve been pushing you too hard.”

“I didn’t have a breakdown,” I tell her. “I was just… overwhelmed. I’m not experienced with dealing with confrontation without a persona to give me a guideline.”

“Uh-huh,” Pinkie says sarcastically, and shoots me a grin. “Anyway, we’re gonna go cheer Fluttershy up. I want you to see how it feels to help instead of hurt.”

I shrug. I can’t imagine it’ll be worth the effort.

We walk up to Fluttershy’s house just as the air around us starts to warm up, and Pinkie knocks on the door. I look around as we wait for Fluttershy. There are animals everywhere. Birds in the trees, little mammals living in holes on the sides of the cottage, other creatures darting around just out of sight. All the plants seem to be thriving, clearly raised with care while still looking wild. The whole area seems warm and inviting.

Just as I’m about to ask Pinkie if she’s sure it’s not too early, the door creaks open to reveal a tired yellow pony. She has bags under her eyes, and her mane is unkempt, but she’s doing her best to put on a smile. Pinkie beams and jumps in to hug her as soon as they lock eyes, eliciting a shocked squeal from Fluttershy.

“Oh, my,” Fluttershy says meekly as she’s grabbed. “Hello, Pinkie, it’s nice to see you. Oh, um, you too Strawberry.” She peels Pinkie off of her. “Is there something I can help you with?”

“We’re gonna go on a walk!” Pinkie tells her excitedly. “C’mon, let’s go!”

Fluttershy and I are both stunned. “Umm, I… What?” Fluttershy stammers out.

“Through the woods!” Pinkie tells her. “It’ll be fun.”

“Oh… Pinkie, I don’t really know if I’m up to that right now,” Fluttershy mumbles. “I’m sorry.”

Pinkie shakes her head. “It’s mandatory. Walk time, let’s go let’s go.” This assertiveness is bizarre.

“Couldn’t we just have tea instead?” Fluttershy protests. “I just-”

“Nope!” Pinkie cuts her off. She moves around Fluttershy and starts pushing her out the door. “Goin on a walk!”

Fluttershy seems to give up once Pinkie gets the door shut behind them. She sighs and follows as Pinkie leads us around the house and towards the woods.

“Do you guys go on walks like this a lot?” I ask to make small talk as we walk.

“Well, I do,” Fluttershy says. “Pinkie usually doesn’t join me, because she um…” Her voice trails off.

“I’m really loud,” Pinkie says for her, smiling towards us. “Fluttershy likes to see the animals, but I scare em away, so usually when I come over we just have tea or whatever.”

As we talk, we reach the trees and go in, the world going dark around us. The forest is nice and cool in the shade, and animals in all directions are filling the air with noise. I was expecting there to be a path, but instead we just walk into the brush. Fluttershy seems to brighten up somewhat just from being here, and Pinkie and I start to follow her through the woods.

“You don’t really strike me as a pony that would be into tea, Pinkie,” I say.

“Oh, she’s not,” Fluttershy replies. “It’s more about the activity. Drinking tea together is very relaxing.”

“It’s a trade-off,” Pinkie says. “We relax at her house, then have parties at mine! A good balance for both of us.”

“So you just come out here alone then, Fluttershy?” I ask her.

“Oh, no, not alone,” Fluttershy says. “I never feel more connected to life than when I’m out here. It’s like taking a walk with Mother Nature herself.”

She floats into the air and gestures around us. “The forest is just filled with wonderful creatures.The singing of birds, the skittering of squirrels. Insects, fungi, even the trees. There’s always something new to see. Isn’t it just wonderful?”

She can really get going. You can barely tell she’s the same as the frightened, timid pony she was just moments ago. Like when she’s excited about something any other worries just disappear. I look over a Pinkie and she grins at me. I guess she knew this would happen.

“So what do you do out here?” I ask Fluttershy. “Just walk and look at nature?”

“Well, the walking is nice, for sure,” Fluttershy says, “but I actually come out here to check on the animals. Sometimes they need help from something bigger than they are, so I like to be there for them. Like, um…” She looks around quickly, then flies over to a tree. “Here, see this bird’s nest?”

I squint my eyes, and can just barely make out a tiny ball of twigs in one of the branches. “These take a lot of work to make,” Fluttershy continues. “But look, up above it, one of the branches is loose.” I follow her pointing and see the branch, but it just looks normal to me. “A bad wind could knock this off and it would fall on the nest. Since I found it, though, I can make sure they stay okay.”

Fluttershy grabs the loose branch in her mouth and yanks back, ripping it off right at the trunk. She must have been right, because I don’t think she would have the strength to pull off a branch that was well attached. She flies back down to us and drops the branch at our hooves.

“That’s a sharp eye,” I tell her as she lands, “and a noble goal.”

“That’s Fluttershy!” Pinkie says with pride. “Nopony is better than Fluttershy at being kind.”

Pinkie hugs Fluttershy, but her last comment makes Fluttershy’s face sink. “Well, I don’t know…” she says. “I’m not so sure kind is the right word anymore.”

Pinkie frowns, but then pops herself right back up. “Hey,” she says, “no moping! It’s walkin time. Frowns can be later.”

Fluttershy sighs and nods, turning and continuing on through the forest. She still seems better than when we first set out, but she really fell fast. Pinkie’s got her work cut out for her cheering this pony up.

Pinkie catches my eye as we walk and gestures like she wants me to say something. What could I say? I don’t even know her. Pinkie needs to lower her expectations.

“So, uh…” I start. I guess I’ll just say the first thing that comes to mind. “Is Applejack upset about the other day still?” Pinkie gives me a weird look, and I shrug back. I don’t know what she expected.

Fluttershy sighs. “She should be,” she says. “I really don’t know why she isn’t. I mean, I did such awful things. Anypony should hate me after that.”

Pinkie stares daggers at me. What does she want from me? Ugh. “Well, I mean,” I try, “maybe she just can’t bring herself to believe you would do that maliciously.”

“Maybe…” Fluttershy murmurs.

“I mean, uhh, I just met you, but even I can’t really believe you would be cruel like that,” I tell her.

Fluttershy is silent for a moment, then says “Thank you, Strawberry Tart.” I sigh in relief, and Pinkie grins at me. I guess that was up to her standards, at least. Somehow.

We walk in relative silence for a while. Pinkie isn’t entirely silent, because I don’t think she can be, and every so often Fluttershy stops to show us one of the ways she helps the forest creatures, but other than that it’s calm. It’s peaceful as the day goes on, the forest slowly heating up around us as we reach midday.

The routine seems to be slowly helping Fluttershy out of her funk. I guess Pinkie knew that getting her back to doing normal things would distract her enough for the emotions to process. Does she know these things intuitively, I wonder, or is it just because she knows Fluttershy so well?

Around what must be noon, we find a small clearing and decide to take a break. The heat is really starting to climb, and we’re all starting to feel it. Pinkie sprawls out onto some shaded grass, and Fluttershy and I find places nearby to get comfortable. A soft wind blows over us, warm but still welcome.

“Does it get this hot a lot?” I ask. “I can’t imagine coming out here very often if you have to deal with this heat.”

“No, this is odd,” Fluttershy says. “It has me kind of worried. The animals around here aren’t used to it. Maybe I should… No, that wouldn’t work…” She trails off, mumbling to herself.

“I hate it,” Pinkie grumbles. “Being hot sucks.”

“Should we go back?” I ask.

Pinkie groans. “I dunno…” she says, clearly conflicted. “We’re not done with our walk.”

Above us, the clouds part and spill light down onto us. With the light comes more heat, an almost overwhelming amount. I’m not sure I’ve ever been in heat this intense. It’s enough to make Pinkie start panting, and Fluttershy moves under a nearby tree.

“Oh, my,” Fluttershy says. “Pinkie, I don’t know if it’s safe for us to keep going in this. We’re just not prepared.”

Pinkie rolls over and gives a conflicted hum. “What’s so dangerous about it?” She asks. “I mean, we’re not gonna light on fire.”

Fluttershy frowns. “Heat can be very dangerous, Pinkie. You can get sunburn, dehydration, heat exhaustion, heat st- EEP!”

Fluttershy jumps backwards with astonishing speed, followed closely by a stream of flames shooting out over our heads. The heat is unbearable, but the flames dissipate quick. I scramble to get up and look frantically around for the source. On the far side of the clearing is Fluttershy, and Pinkie seems to have already made it over to her. The rest of the clearing is empty.

I don’t see anything in the forest at first, but then I catch a glimpse of orange skittering through the brush. It’s small and fast, but that fire was pretty weak. Do I know of something that could fit that?

Just as I put the pieces together, Fluttershy speaks up behind me. “Salamander! Strawberry, get back!” How does she know what it is? She’s right though, I need to move. I sprint over to where they are, barely dodging a second volley of flames.

“We need to get rid of that thing,” I say as I reach them. “It’s too dangerous to let it stick around.”

Fluttershy gasps. “Strawberry, no!” she pleads. “We can’t hurt it.”

“It’ll hurt a lot of animals if it stays loose out here,” I tell her.

“I know, but…” she whimpers, her voice quivering. “Just, um… Okay, I um, I’ll calm it down. I can do this.” She gets up and starts walking in the direction of the salamander, whispering “I can do this” to herself over and over.

“Fluttershy, don’t be an idiot,” I say, but Pinkie hits me on the shoulder before I can continue. I look at her, and she’s completely calm, smiling like she has no worries at all.

“Just watch,” Pinkie whispers in my ear, so I do. Fluttershy is crouching low, slowly creeping over to the underbrush. Every so often a jet of fire shoots out at her, eliciting frightened yelps, but she presses on. It’s an astounding level of dedication for the yellow pony.

After what feels like several agonizing minutes, Fluttershy reaches the treeline, and without warning leaps forward, disappearing into the foliage. There’s a lot of noise, and then less, and then no noise at all. I look over to Pinkie, but she just smiles back at me. She clearly has a lot of faith in Fluttershy.

Then, out of the trees, Fluttershy’s head emerges with a grin. She floats out, carrying a big orange and red lizard with her front legs. Her mane is singed, and her tail is smoking, but she looks otherwise okay. The salamander seems docile, but I still back away when she sets it on the ground near us.

“What the heck did you do?” I ask incredulously.

Fluttershy crouches beside the creature and strokes its head. “I just calmed him down like any animal. Well, like any reptile.” She chuckles to herself. I just stare at her in shock, speechless.

“That thing is not an animal,” I finally manage to say. “It’s a monster. It’ll kill you.”

Fluttershy frowns. “Oh, he’s just a baby,” she replies. “Just lost and scared. He didn’t mean to hurt anyone.”

“Well, now what?” I ask her. “It doesn’t matter if it means to hurt anyone, it’ll do it again either way. If you let that thing loose it’ll grow up and burn this whole forest down.”

Fluttershy hums quietly for a moment. “I guess that’s true,” she says. “He needs a suitable environment. I wonder if Rarity could build a terrarium…” Her face slowly brightens as she thinks about it.

“Wait, you can’t possibly be thinking of taking it home,” I say. “That’s ridiculous, that is absolutely-”

“A great idea!” Pinkie cuts me off. “Oh, what an awesome pet!”

Fluttershy smiles and scoops the salamander back up, floating into the air. “Oh, it’s been so long since I’ve gotten to learn about a new kind of animal,” she says. “Help me get him back home, would you? Oh, and if you see Rarity later, tell her I need her help. Oh, oh, and Twilight too, I need to borrow some books.”

Fluttershy floats around us energetically the whole trip back, rambling about her plans with a wide grin, the salamander sitting lazily in her hooves. Back at her house she sees us off, saying she has a lot of work to do, which Pinkie seems to readily accept.

“So, whaddaya think?” Pinkie asks as we’re walking back home.

“About what?” I respond.

“About helping Fluttershy!” she says. “You did real well at it.”

“I almost died for it,” I tell her. “And Fluttershy still could. She’ll see what happens when you let a monster into your home.”

Pinkie just chuckles and grins at me. “I don’t hear you sayin you didn’t like it, though.”

Chapter 9

A soft sunlight wakes me up early the next morning. No wake-up call? Maybe I should just go back to sleep, see how long it takes her to come and get me. There’s a chance she’d just forget about me for the day.

No, I shouldn’t do that. It would just make it that much harder to wake up early tomorrow. Instead I stretch, kick off my sheet, and pry open my eyes. Even still, I wind up staring at the ceiling for a few minutes before I can finally push myself off the sofa.

Pinkie’s manning the counter again this morning, but it’s so early that the lobby is still empty. “Is the store even open yet?” I yawn out as I walk up to her. “Or are you just getting in the headspace.”

Pinkie laughs, already full of cheer. I swear, one day I need to see this pony yawn. It’s just not natural to have this much energy. “Mornin, Tarts,” she says in her usual bubbly tone.

“Tarts?” I ask with a skeptical look.

“”Yeah, just tryin it out,” she replies. “Everyone always just calls you Strawberry, so I wanted to shake things up.” Suddenly she pops up, her eyes going wide. “Hey, wait a minute, you don’t have amnesia! What’s your real name?”

I walk over and lean on the other side of the counter from her. “Why would I need a name?” I ask her. “I don’t usually spend any time in a unique form like this.”

Pinkie huffs. “Well no wonder you don’t know anything about yourself, you’ve never been you!”

“I know plenty about who I am,” I tell her, “and who I am is not Strawberry Tart.”

“Well, it is now,” Pinkie says, sticking her tongue out at me. Then she breaks into a giggle fit that lasts far too long. “You’ll see,” she tells me after catching her breath. “I mean, c’mon, can you really tell me you didn’t enjoy seeing Fluttershy happy after yesterday?”

“I mean, sure, I guess it was alright,” I say, “but my usual stuff is a heck of a lot easier. Safer, too.”

“Sure, cuz you totally didn’t hurt yourself doin it this time,” she says.

“This was a fluke,” I protest.

“A fluke that messed you up!” she says. “How can you be sure it’ll just go away? What if you can’t tune out the pain you cause anymore?”

“Then I’ll be a broken monster,” I tell her. “But still a monster.”

“A monster that made Fluttershy smile yesterday,” Pinkie says. “If you ask me, I’d say the scary monsters are the broken ones.”

“That’s only because you don’t know about them,” I tell her. “I’ve seen enough to know the truth.”

“Well, you’re wrong,” Pinkie says with a huff.

“Look,” I say, “Even helping Fluttershy yesterday ended up putting her in danger.”

“What? Fluttershy’s fine,” Pinkie says. “She can handle this stuff.”

“She said it’s new to her,” I respond. “She doesn’t know enough about it to not get hurt.”

“You sound like you’re worried about her,” Pinkie says with a grin.

“I mean, of course I am,” I say. “I hurt ponies, but I don’t want them to die.”

Pinkie leans forward, her smile devious, and pokes me in the forehead. “Go help her then, smartypants.”

“What?” I ask. “I thought you wanted to keep an eye on me. Is this some kind of trap?”

Pinkie hops up off the counter and starts fishing around behind it. “It’s about time to send her the sweets she likes anyway,” she says, ignoring my confusion. “She eats em pretty slow, but with the stress I bet she tore right through those macarons. You can deliver the fresh ones!”

Pinkie loads me up with a heavy bag of sweets and sends me on my way, apparently intent on me going to help Fluttershy. Did she plan this before I even woke up, I wonder? The cookies were already made up. I can never tell how much of what this girl does is intentional.

“Good luck, Tarts!” Pinkie yells after me as I walk out the door.

Walking through the streets, I contemplate leaving Ponyville. Nobody would notice until at least tomorrow I’m sure. By then I could be anywhere, they would never find me. But still, I would never be able to live peacefully, constantly worried about attracting their attention. Stay or go, I won’t be able to go back to my normal life either way.

Would Pinkie really tell the others about me? It’s hard to say. She seems too kind to do that, but she also seems extremely invested in this. Is that investment enough that she would tell her friends just to get me back? She easily could. It’s too big a risk to take.

Still, the thoughts bounce around my head until I reach Fluttershy’s house. As I walk up, I feel the air around me heating up. It seems things are already going poorly. I walk up quickly and knock loud. Hopefully there’s at least no fire.

A very frazzled Fluttershy opens the door to greet me. Her mane is a mess, her fur covered in scorch marks, her legs bandaged. She’s bone dry too, clearly dehydrated. Yet at the same time, she seems… happy. Exhausted, but none of the depressed tiredness she carried yesterday. She grins wide when she sees me.

“Oh, hello Strawberry Tart.” Fluttershy says. “It’s so nice to see you again. Thank you again for your help yesterday. Is there, um, is there something you need?”

I point at the bag of cookies. “Pinkie sent me with a delivery,” I tell her.

“The macarons?” Fluttershy says. “It seems a bit early. I hope I didn’t lose track of the days… Oh! Sorry, Strawberry, why don’t you come inside? We can taste the fresh ones together.” She smiles again, and floats back inside.

Inside her house is a sauna. The heat is overpowering, enough to make even breathing difficult. Signs of pets are littered about, cages and toys and such, but the animals are nowhere to be seen. They’ve probably been moved to somewhere with less heat. And in the corner of the room is a massive glass tank, the salamander snoozing inside on crudely assembled sand and stones.

The rest of the house is mostly what I expected, although a bit more cluttered. A bookshelf is loosely piled with huge encyclopedias. Nothing compared to Twilight’s collection, but still enough to be impressive. The furniture is all rustic and well-used, covered in damage that has since been repaired. The walls are lined with knick-knacks and photos of animals, all sorts of memorabilia. It’s all very cozy.

Fluttershy leads me into her kitchen, which seems to double as her dining room, and I sit at a small wooden table. Fluttershy zips around, gathering dishes and such to set the table, whistling quietly to herself. Floral placemats, candle lighting, she spares no expense on the display. It’s all very excessive for just some cookies, but it does look nice.

“You need to feed it some ice chips,” I tell Fluttershy as she joins me at the table.

“What?” she asks, confused.

“The salamander,” I explain. “Ice chips will stop it from making things so hot.”

“Oh, really?” Fluttershy says, her eyes widening. “Incredible. But, um, would that hurt him?”

“I don’t think so,” I say. “The heat isn’t for their sake, it’s to weaken prey.”

“Oh, that makes sense,” she replies, absentmindedly biting into a cookie as she thinks. “Just wonderful. Do you know anything else about him? Oh, um, if that’s okay.”

“Well, you’ll want to get Rarity over quick,” I tell her. “Or maybe even Applejack. It’ll turn that sand into glass if you let it. It needs some kind of gravel that it can’t melt.”

“Interesting,” Fluttershy mumbles to herself as she floats into the kitchen and gets a notepad. I eat a cookie as she returns. It’s a bit too sweet. “What does he eat?” she asks as she sits back down and starts scribbling notes.

“Pretty much anything,” I reply. “Flowers, insects, animals, ponies, rocks. It’s a monster, it doesn’t need nutrients. Just matter.”

She nods along as she listens to me. “Thank you,” she says, “this will help so much.”

“You seem a bit overwhelmed,” I say as she finishes her notes. “Are you sure you should be doing this?”

“Well, you’re right, it is a lot,” she says, looking down at her plate. “Especially the learning process, but… Well, it’s what I like to do. You can’t, um… You have to be kind to yourself. Sometimes, being kind to yourself means learning to enjoy things that are hard, so that you can be happy.” She looks back up at me as she finishes, smiling sweetly.

“But what’s the point of being happy if the thing kills you?” I ask.

“I know how you feel,” Fluttershy replies. “I’ve spent a lot of time running away from things. I still do, a lot. But eventually you’re just, um, running from your whole life. I’m not sure that living like that is really living at all. It’s just… surviving.”

I frown. “Even if you believe all that,” I say, “monsters are too far. Taking in monsters is a good way to get yourself, like, petrified, or eaten, or mind controlled.”

Fluttershy hums in thought. Things go quiet for a bit, only the sound of us chewing on sweets. Eventually, she speaks up, saying “How do you know so much about monsters? Have you seen them before? Um, if that’s alright to ask.”

“Yeah, I-” I stop myself. I almost forgot about the amnesia story. “I, uh, I guess I must have. Before I lost my memory.”

“Oh no, I’m sorry, I forgot about that,” Fluttershy says, covering her mouth in embarrassment. “I am so sorry.”

“It’s fine, really,” I say. I try to muster up a smile to be reassuring, which seems to work, at least enough for her to relax slightly.

“But, um, it is interesting,” she continues. “I wonder where you learned something like that. Have you had any other things like that crop up?”

“Uhh, not really,” I say. “This is the first time I think.”

Fluttershy looks down, deep in thought. “What kind of pony could you have been?” she mutters. “You keep pointing out that it’s a monster, maybe you worked with monsters?”

She’s thinking about this too much, she might find holes in my logic. I need to lead her to an answer quick. “What, like a researcher?” I ask. “Do monster researchers even exist?”

“Not really,” Fluttershy mumbles to herself. Dang it, that seemed like a safe bet. She goes deeper into her thoughts, muttering things under her breath that I can’t make out and closing her eyes as she focuses.

“Uhh, maybe I like, hunted them?” I offer nervously. She doesn’t respond, just gives a soft hum and continues to think. I can see her face going through a litany of emotions, none of which tell me anything. What is she thinking? What conclusions could she possibly come to based just on me knowing about monsters?

Just as I’m about to make another anxious attempt to steer her to a conclusion, Fluttershy’s eyes pop open. She gasps and leaps into the air, knocking her chair over and covering her mouth in shock. “Y-y-y” she stammers out, not finding words. It’s agonizing, my mind racing to figure out what she knows. “Y-you’re… you’re a shapeshifter!” she finally shouts.

“Wha-” I nearly choke. What the heck!? I try to get up and trip over my chair, falling backwards onto the floor. “What are you talking about, Fluttershy?” I manage to spurt out.

She points at me with a frantic look on her face. “I-it’s so obvious,” she says. “You’re the right size, the right demeanor, scared of monsters… You showed up, and then… Oh, my.”

This is very, very bad. With everything I did to her, I have no idea what the adrenaline spike from this could cause. I push myself backwards along the floor, away from her. “Fluttershy, listen, you have to stay calm,” I plead. “I stopped, Pinkie made me stop, please at least go talk to her.”

Fluttershy lunges out of the air at me. I close my eyes and brace myself, the wind getting knocked out of me as she pins me down. My heart races as I wait for the inevitable to come, but it never does. Eventually, I pry my eyes open and see her, face to face with me, and she’s… smiling? She’s smiling at me.

Then, before I can process what’s happening, she gives me a hug.

I stare at her, baffled, as she floats back into the air. She squeals, like she can’t get her words out, and then finally shouts out “It wasn’t me!” and spins around in midair.

“Huh?” is the only response I can give.

She flies up close to me again. “It wasn’t me!” she repeats. “You’re a shapeshifter, which means you were behind the mean stuff, which means I didn’t do it! Oh, this is such a relief.” She sighs and lands, sitting down on the floor beside me.

“Are you not… mad?” I mutter, still wary.

“You said Pinkie stopped you,” she explains. “If Pinkie already knows, then there’s no reason for me to be mad too.” She smiles at me, calm and sweet.

I push myself into a more comfortable position and sigh. This is exhausting. “How the heck did you figure it out?” I ask.

“You just look like one,” she says. “It’s obvious if you know what to look for. Um, sorry, I hope that wasn’t rude. I didn’t mean you look scary or anything, you look fine. I mean, you look good. Or, um-”

“Please don’t tell any of your friends,” I say, cutting her off.

“They’ll have to find out eventually,” she tells me. “They’ll never be able to forgive you if you don’t stop lying.”

“Well, Pinkie thinks she can turn me good,” I say. “I’m sure if that happens I’ll tell them myself.”

Fluttershy thinks to herself for a moment. “Okay,” she says, “I’ll keep your secret, on one condition.”

Ugh. “What?” I ask.

She grins. The same grin as when she caught the salamander. “Well,” she says, “I’ve never met a shapeshifter before. Let me learn more about you! Um, please.”

“Well, there’s not much to know,” I say. “But sure, ask away.”

She claps and hops up from the floor. “Hooray! Okay, um, turn into me,” she commands.

“What?” I ask. “Why do I have to do that?”

“It’s the best way to see how you work,” she says. “I can notice differences from my own body.”

“But wouldn’t that be, like… weird?” I ask.

“I see myself all the time,” she says. “Please? I would really really appreciate it.” She frowns, begging me with her expression, almost desperate looking.

Dang it. I can’t stand looking at her like that. “Fine,” I say, standing up. Her face lights up as I change myself to look like her. It’s just as awkward as I expected it to be, but she seems unaffected by it.

Fluttershy is all over me right away, poking and prodding. Measuring proportions, stretching out my wings, making notes the whole time. She really does get utterly engrossed in this stuff. I wonder if she even slept last night.

She points out countless discrepancies I never would have noticed. One wing should be slightly shorter, there’s too much muscle mass, I made her face too symmetrical. A slight sheen in the eyes that she says all shapeshifters have. She may not know how to be safe around monsters, but she sure knows how to identify them.

The whole time she’s doing this, she’s quizzing me at the same time. How I operate, what it feels like, how often I sleep. Her curiosity is endless, enough so that I begin to worry I’ll be stuck here being experimented on forever.

“I’ll get in trouble with Pinkie if you keep me all night,” I say to her eventually. Mostly because my legs had begun to ache from standing still.

Fluttershy gasps. “Oh no, I’m sorry!” she exclaims. “I always forget how focused I can get. Sorry, um, we can stop. Thank you, also. This was very kind of you. And, um, sorry.”

“It’s okay, Fluttershy,” I tell her, smiling again. “I just figured I shouldn’t take up your whole day. It has been a… surprisingly nice visit, though.”

“Oh, um, wait, before you go,” she says, “I just, um… would you like some tea?”

“Sure,” I tell her, “I could do that.”

She grins. “Okay, um, why don’t you go get comfortable in the living room, and I’ll be right out with the tea, okay?”

She floats into the kitchen and busies herself, so I take her advice and head into the other room. The salamander tracks my movement as I walk in, but it seems docile. For now, at least. The coziness of this place washes over me again. The clutter makes it feel lived in. I’d love to visit when it’s at a normal temperature.

I pick the shallowest chair in the room and take a seat. It’s nice and relaxing after standing still for Fluttershy for so long. Really, what an incredible fervor. I can’t imagine she gets many chances to exercise it. Maybe I won’t change back into my regular look just yet. She’ll probably get a kick out of sharing tea with herself, and it’s not like it’s any extra effort on my part. I’ve long since gotten over the awkwardness.

A few minutes later Fluttershy comes out and gives me a steaming cup of tea, and then sits in the closest seat with her own. She seems to have calmed down, but the smile hasn’t faded from her face. “So, um, you said Pinkie is helping you?” she asks as she blows on her drink.

“I guess,” I tell her. “Not that it’ll work. I mean, you know about monsters. I can no sooner stop hurting others than that salamander can stop spitting fire.” The salamander flicks its tongue out, as if to emphasize my point.

Fluttershy hums in thought, sipping quietly. I sip my own tea while she thinks. It’s nothing special, but it’s nice. Certainly pleasant enough to drink idly while talking. Which is, I suppose, the point.

“Well,” she says after a bit, “you’re right that I can’t stop him from spitting fire. But I can help him realize what the fire does, and set him up to find better ways to spit it. At least, that’s how I feel.”

I think for a minute. She’s certainly more thoughtful than Pinkie. No less naive, though. “Have you ever done it before?” I ask her. “Made a monster less dangerous?”

“Mm-hm,” she replies, not even hesitating. My eyes go wide in shock. “I wish I had more experience, though. They really are very different from regular animals.”

“There’s no way,” I say in disbelief. “Are you sure they weren’t just dangerous animals?”

She shakes her head. “I’m in those woods a lot, you know,” she says. “Spend enough time there and you’re bound to run into a basilisk or two. I try to make sure they can be good for the forest. When I can, at least.” She sighs.

“How are you alive?” I ask.

She laughs softly. “In my experience, none of them actually want to be causing harm,” she says. “They just need somepony to help them instead of running away.”

“You know, Pinkie was right,” I tell her. “If I’d known you better, I never would have tried to imitate you. It’s just not believable.”

Fluttershy laughs again. “I don’t know, Strawberry,” she says, smiling at me. “From what I heard, I think you actually did a pretty good job acting like me.”

Our conversation ends up lasting until well after dark, which Fluttershy apologizes profusely for as I leave, but I walk away with a smile.

Chapter 10

Morning again. Again, no Pinkie. Not that I want her bugging me, it’s just odd. This hasn’t been quite the friendship boot camp I had expected.

Oh well. No reason to dawdle.

Upstairs I’m greeted by an empty lobby. No customers, no chatting ponies, and again, no Pinkie. There’s no way I woke up before her, so where is she? I can’t help but feel like she’s testing me again.

No need to stress about it though. I’ll just wait here a bit, and if she doesn’t show up, I’ll go over to Fluttershy’s. Surely Pinkie couldn’t fault me for that. I’ll just get comfortable at a table and wait.

If this is a test, how long would I be expected to wait? Pinkie can’t expect me to wait for her all day. Or maybe that is the test, to see if I’d take the initiative on my own. Like it would indicate some kind of natural kindness or something. I don’t know. That seems too roundabout for Pinkie anyway. She probably just stepped out to run an errand or something.

Still, I’m going to get awfully bored sitting around here. I’m tempted to just leave. If Pinkie has plans for the day she could find me pretty easily. If not, it’ll keep me from getting sent off to some random pony’s house.

Just as I make up my mind and get up, the front door opens and Pinkie walks in. She spots me right away, hopping over and giving me a somewhat uncomfortable hug. “Heya, Tarts!” she says, full of vigor. “You’re up early.”

I pry myself away from the pony’s grip. “Yeah, I guess,” I reply. “What, did you expect to be back before I was up?”

“Pretty much,” she says. “But hey, you’re up! That makes things easier. C’mon, let’s talk while we walk.”

We leave the house and start walking in the usual direction. The air is crisp and refreshing, the morning carried on the wind. Fresh sunlight pours through the town, settling into every nook and cranny. I have to say, aside from the night, this is the best time of day in Ponyville. Calm, peaceful. I see why Pinkie is such an early riser.

“So where did you get off to?” I ask her as we walk. “I almost thought you were testing me.”

She laughs. “Nah, nothin like that. I just hopped over to Twilight’s to see if she was back. No dice, though. She must’ve stayed in Canterlot for a bit.”

“Geez,” I say, “is it really that far away? I wasn’t worried because I figured if she could just run there, it had to be close. Aren’t you afraid something might have happened to her?”

“Worrying would just bring me down,” Pinkie says, “and that’d bring other ponies down. I mean, what am I gonna do about it if somethin happened? I’m not the one that’s gonna figure that out. If I gotta worry, I’ll be told to worry, ya know?”

“I guess,” I say. “Don’t hurt more than you need to. That’s easier said than done though. Not all of us can just shut things out like that.”

“That’s why it’s doubly important that I do!” Pinkie tells me. “Me bein cheery helps other ponies not get stuck in bad stuff. We’re all good and bad at different stuff. So I leave the worryin to the ponies who are good at worryin.”

“That’s a lot of faith, though,” I say. “What makes you so confident things will work?”

“My friends do,” she replies. “Like, I’m sure that Rainbow Dash went after Twilight. It’d be no sweat for her.”

“You’re darn right,” a voice behind us says. I jump away, and a big blue pegasus lands between me and Pinkie. She flashes me a grin full of pride and confidence. Geez, you don’t need a dramatic entrance every time. Rainbow Dash greets us with just a “Sup?”

“Dashie!” Pinkie shouts, jumping on her friend immediately with a hug. “Where ya been? We’ve missed you around here.”

“I’ll tell you if you let me breathe,” Rainbow Dash says, which gets Pinkie to giggle and back off. “I’ve missed you, too, though,” she continues. “I’ve been in freakin Canterlot thanks to somepony.” She rolls her eyes sarcastically.

“So Twilight is okay?” I ask her.

“Physically? Sure,” Rainbow Dash replies, “but she aint happy. Not that I blame her, the stuff that happened had me moody too, and I didn’t sprint across the continent to stop an apocalypse.” I wince.

“Uh-oh,” Pinkie says, “that’s not good. Mad Twilight is scary. Is she comin back?” Pinkie gives me a nervous glance, which I return.

“Nah, not yet,” Rainbow dash says. Pinkie and I both sigh in relief. “I explained what I knew about the situation to her, and convinced her to take a bit to cool down. But if we don’t clear this up before she gets back, things are gonna get bad.” She punctuates this with a pointed look at me. Unless I’m reading too much into it, but it’s unnerving either way.

“Well, stuff’s calmed down a lot,” Pinkie says. “I don’t think anything weird’s happened since you left.”

“Really?” Rainbow Dash replies. “Huh. I had a hunch things would clear up, but that’s fast. How’s Fluttershy?”

“She’s doing a lot better,” I tell Rainbow Dash. “She found a new, uh, pet I guess. That really seemed to raise her spirits.”

“Hah!” Rainbow Dash guffaws. “Awesome. Wish I could find a new critter for her that easy. Where are you two headed, then?”

I look at Pinkie, and she thinks for a moment. “Uhh, well Fluttershy’s gonna be with Rarity today,” she says. “So I guess Applejack.”

“Oh, yeah, she’s probly still stressed out huh,” I say. “Should we have gone there sooner?”

“Oh, I went there yesterday,” Pinkie says. “It’s sweet that you were worried, though.” She grins at me and winks. She must see that as a good sign. It seems like a bit of a logical leap though.

“Well, it sounds like things are mostly covered on the cheering front,” Rainbow Dash says. “I don’t know that AJ needs both of you. How about I take the squirt off your hooves for the day?”

My jaw drops. “What?” I ask. Oh no, does she want to have another weird walk with me? “I’m not really sure if-”

“Okay!” Pinkie says, cutting me off. “Havin fun with you for a day would be great for them. I don’t wanna end up turnin em into Pinkie Two. Put em through the wringer for me.” She grins at me. There’s something frightening behind that grin. What is she signing me up for?

Rainbow Dash laughs. “Sick,” she says. Then she turns to me and puts a hoof on my shoulder. “C’mon Strawberry, you heard her. It’s time for the crucible.”

Pinkie starts hopping away before I can protest. “Bye, Tarts! Bye, Dashie!” she shouts back at us as she disappears. No stopping this now, I guess. I really hope that Rainbow Dash actually was just moody before.

“Nickname already, huh?” Rainbow Dash says as she starts leading me down the street. “Not that it’s that uncommon. Plus she named you in the first place, so I guess a nickname isn’t really much, huh? But still, she must like you. Or she just likes her silly name.” She chuckles and grins at me. There’s a surprising warmth in her face, playful but friendly. This is a far cry from the Rainbow Dash I first met.

“I’m still getting used to Strawberry Tart, honestly,” I tell her.

“Yeah, I bet,” she replies. She glances back over her shoulder for something, then turns back. She grabs me out of nowhere and turns me to face her, stopping us in the middle of the road. “Alright, dude, it’s time to pony up,” she says, suddenly serious. “Why’d you quit messin with us?”

“What!?” I spurt out. Why is she suspicious? “What are you talking about? I never-”

She cuts me off. “Nah, no lyin,” she says, poking me in the chest. “I’ve seen you turn into stuff. I saw you turn into who you are now in the forest. C’mon, I aint mad, just come clean.”

For crying out loud. Do any of these ponies not know at this point? “Ok, fine,” I sigh, “you got me. But why did you wait this long to say something? Why not just stop me then?”

She grins, and motions for us to start walking again. “Pinkie beat me to the punch,” she tells me. “I figured nothin I did would be as effective as just bein near Pinkie. But you stopped after, what, two days? That aint just Pinkie. What happened?”

“I mean, it kinda is just Pinkie,” I say. “I was sloppy, and she caught me.”

Rainbow Dash slaps her forehead. “You’re tellin me Pinkie knows already?” she asks. “Then why the heck was I talkin in circles? I’m not very good at subtlety, you know. Ugh, okay, so what happened then?”

“Well, she caught me,” I continue, “and I guess decided she didn’t want to believe I could be all bad. So she told me I had to let her try to make me a better pony, or else she would send you all after me.”

“Dang!” Rainbow Dash says. “That’s hardcore for Pinkie Pie. She really does like you. So, what, she’s just toting you around on her daily runs?”

“Pretty much,” I respond. “Mostly just Fluttershy though. And then Fluttershy found out about me, so now half of you know about it.”

“Uhh, four of us, actually,” Rainbow Dash says with a nervous laugh. “I kinda had to tell Twilight about you to stop her from coming back to solve things herself.”

I groan. “You know, if you’re all gonna find out anyway, I would really like to tell at least one of you on my own terms.”

She chuckles. “Alright, I’ll tell them to keep it on lockdown,” she says. “How’s it treatin you though? Has Pinkie won you over?”

“I don’t know,” I respond. “I mean, the things I can do can only ever hurt others. So like, sure, I could isolate myself completely and technically be good. That can’t last forever, though. Eventually I’ll get antsy, or stressed, and I’ll be pulled right back into how I used to live because it’s how I know to exist. It’s inevitable.”

“Well that’s an easy fix,” Rainbow Dash says. “You just gotta learn to do your thing in nicer ways.”

“Yeah, it sounds easy when you say it like that,” I tell her. “But what do you figure those nicer ways are? They don’t make nice, fuzzy monsters.”

Rainbow Dash scoffs. “You’re tellin me you can’t think of any way to have fun when you can shapeshift? Pinkie must be slacking. Okay, tell me this, why did you do the stuff you did before? What did you get out of it?”

“It was just fun, I guess,” I tell her with a shrug.

“Yeah, but why was it fun?” she presses. “Which part of it did you like?”

“I don’t know,” I tell her. “I suppose maybe I enjoyed watching ponies react? Seeing the different things they do?”

“Alright,” Rainbow Dash says, “so if you could get that without hurting anypony, things would be fine, yeah?”

“Sure,” I concede, “but how? I’m being lying and deceitful just by pretending to be another pony. That’s gonna hurt them.”

“Dude, I lie all the time to have fun,” she says. “It’s called a prank. Pinkie and I prank each other all the time, and you can’t pull off a prank without lyin.”

“That feels like it’s not really the same thing,” I tell her.

Rainbow Dash hits me in the shoulder. “Don’t be dense,” she says. “You’ve just convinced yourself that you’re some kinda evil monster.”

“I am a monster,” I protest.

She rolls her eyes. “Who cares. You can’t let how you were born decide your whole life. Do you really think me and Pinkie and Fluttershy would all decide to give you a chance if there was really no way for you to be good?”

I sigh. “Okay, fine, what do you want me to do?” I ask her.

“I just want you to try,” she says. “Like, really try. Try like you would if you believed there’s a chance, even if you don’t.”

I think for a minute. I guess that’s reasonable enough. I’m here anyway, it won’t hurt me to just put in a bit of effort. “Okay,” I finally say, “I’ll try.”

Rainbow Dash grins at me. “Heck yeah, now we’re rollin. Alright,” she says, “lemme tell you about pranking. It’s a delicate artform!”

“How complicated could it be?” I ask.

“Well, just pranks are easy,” she explains. “The trouble is in the stuff you’re worried about. Pranks can really hurt ponies if you do em wrong. I mean, the stuff you did was basically just really complicated, hurtful pranks.”

“Sure,” I say. “How do you stop that then?”

“There’s a few things,” she says. “Number one, the most important, is that you gotta come clean. It’s not a good prank unless you’re both laughing at the end, and that aint gonna happen if they don’t even know who did it.”

“How am I supposed to make somepony laugh instead of hurt?” I ask. “That’s a big jump.”

“That’s step two!” Rainbow Dash exclaims. “Know your targets. You gotta be pretty close to somepony to be able to think of stuff that’ll make them laugh. The pranks I pull on Pinkie are things I’d never do to Fluttershy, ya know?”

“Is that it?” I ask.

“There’s one last part,” she says. “You always gotta make sure there’s a way to opt out. Pranks have to be able to stop at any time. That way, if you mess up and do somethin that goes too far, you can step in and say sorry.”

“Just apologize?” I say. “That can’t just fix everything. I mean, an apology isn’t gonna clear up what I put you all through.”

“Of course not. But you messed up from step one,” she says. “Don’t get me wrong, when Twilight gets back, even if we sign off on you she’s gonna put you in lockdown for like a month. I’m teachin you how to stop it from getting to that point in the first place.”

“Yeah, okay,” I say. “I guess I’ll take your word for it.”

“You’re not gonna have to. We’re gonna go put that lesson to use,” she tells me. “You ready for a few more ponies to find out about you?”

“What?” I ask, flinching. “Are you serious? I thought you said you’d keep it secret!”

“Yeah, from AJ and Rarity,” she says. “And AJ and Rarity are with the only other ponies who already know. So unless you wanna tell one of them, it’s gotta be somepony else.”

Ugh. I’m scared of what Applejack might do, and I don’t want Rarity to find out through a prank. “Fine,” I relent. “I guess I have no choice. Who, though?”

“Well,” she says slyly, “there’s some kids who deserve an apology.”

A few minutes later and we’re in the air, me looking like Fluttershy and following close behind Rainbow Dash. There’s a knot in my gut from the nerves I’m feeling. My instincts are screaming that this is going to go wrong, get me hurt, maybe even get me killed. Those same instincts that I told Rainbow Dash I would ignore. The instincts that have kept me safe all my life.

I try to push the thoughts aside as we land in the forest near Applejack’s orchard. “Are you sure this is going to work?” I ask Rainbow Dash. “It seems a bit strange.”

“Positive,” she assures me with a smile. “All you gotta do is follow the script. Let’s go!” With that, she jets off towards the children’s treehouse, leaving me on my own.

Guess I just have to go along with this. Step one is to turn into Applebloom, so I do that. I’m still terrible at imitating children, but Rainbow Dash is counting on that. So, doing my best to steel my nerves, I start walking towards the clubhouse.

I underestimated the distance. It takes me a few minutes to get there on these tiny little legs. Eventually, though, I find my way there, climb up to the treehouse, and peer in through a window. All three kids are there, their gazes all fixed on Rainbow Dash as she regales them with stories.

“I was backed into a corner with no way out,” Rainbow Dash is saying, eliciting gasps from the children. “No choice but to fight, but how am I gonna fight somethin that big? Well, that’s when it hit me-”

Alright, time for step two. I walk inside the clubhouse, interrupting Rainbow Dash, and give my best cheery “Hey guys!” to announce myself.

All the eyes in the room shoot to me, and then go wide. Sweetie Belle jumps back, while Scootaloo stares dumbfounded. Applebloom tilts her head in a bewildered look. “What the hay?” she says when she finds her words.

“That’s my line!” I respond with an accusatory point in her direction. “Who are you?”

“I’m me!” Applebloom declares. “Guys, that aint me,” she tells the others.

Sweetie Belle looks frantically between Applebloom and I. “What the heck is going on?” she says in a frightened tone.

Scootaloo runs over next to Sweetie Belle, away from both Appleblooms. “One of them’s a fake!” she shouts.

“I aint no fake,” Applebloom replies. “Y’all have been with me all day!”

“You were with her all day and couldn’t tell she was fake?” I say to them, frowning. “What the heck, guys.”

“Well, one of them has to be real,” Sweetie Belle says to Scootaloo. “How do we figure it out?”

“Deathmatch!” Scootaloo declares. “Survivor gets to be Applebloom!” Applebloom and I both flinch.

Rainbow Dash snorts to hold back a laugh and speaks up before we can. “Okay, dial it back a bit, bucko,” she says. “Nopony needs to die. We just gotta test em.”

“How do we do that?” Scootaloo asks.

“Easy!” Rainbow Dash says. “You two give the Appleblooms a quiz. The kinda stuff that you think somepony who isn’t Applebloom wouldn’t be able to answer. And I’ll be the judge.”

“Why are you the judge?” says Sweetie Belle. “We know the answers to the questions.”

“Exactly!” Rainbow Dash replies. “Since you know the answers, you’d only look for that. But what if the real Applebloom forgot what you ask about? I don’t know the answers, so I can judge the Applebloominess of their answers.” She shoots them a confident grin.

“I guess that makes sense,” Sweetie Belle hesitantly concedes. “Are you okay with that Applebloom? And, uh, Applebloom?”

“Eeyup,” Applebloom says. “This’ll be easy.”

“Yeah, sure,” I say after her.

“Okay, first question!” Scootaloo says, sounding more excited than she should be. “What did we try doin on my birthday last year?”

“Pfft, easy,” Applebloom says immediately. “We tried arm wrestlin, but it didn’t work cuz we don’t have arms.”

I think for a moment. “Uhh, archery?” I say, making a complete guess that I know is wrong.

“Ha, I knew it!” Scootaloo exclaims, pointing at me. “You’re a fake!”

“Well, hang on,” Rainbow Dash says. “I’m the judge here, and I think that one sounded way more like Applebloom.”

“What?” Applebloom says. “I was obviously right though!”

Rainbow Dash smirks. “C’mon,” she says, “next question. We need more evidence.” Applebloom grimaces.

“Okay, I’ve got one,” Sweetie Belle says. “Whose house did we spend our first Hearth’s Warming together at?”

Applebloom looks down in thought. “Ooh, good one,” Scootaloo says to Sweetie Belle.

“Uhh, maybe Scootaloo’s?” I say in an uncertain tone. That seems like a safe bet.

“Oh, come on!” Applebloom blurts out. “We never go to Scootaloo’s place. It was uhh… Pinkie’s I think. Maybe.”

“Hmmm,” Rainbow Dash hums in feigned thought. “I dunno. That seems a little angry for Applebloom. I think I have to give this one to that Applebloom again,” she says, pointing at me.

All three children groan loudly. “What the heck, Rainbow Dash?” Scootaloo says. “Ugh, fine, next question. Who’s your sister? There’s no way Applebloom would get that wrong.” Rainbow Dash has to cover her mouth to hold back a chuckle.

“Applejack!” Applebloom says, exasperated. “What kinda question is that?”

I make a big show out of thinking. “Hmmm,” I hum. “I think… Fluttershy?”

The room explodes. All three children go into an uproar. Scootaloo pounces at me and knocks me over, knocking the wind out of me. Wow, she’s strong for a kid. Thankfully, she seems satisfied with just holding me down. Mostly she, along with the others, just yell vaguely, at me, at Rainbow Dash, at each other. It’s a cacophony.

It’s honestly very relieving to watch. This chaos, this confused mess, it’s what I’ve been trying all this time to see. The opportunity to see these reactions, Scootaloo’s anger, Sweetie Belle’s confusion. Watching Applebloom yell at Rainbow Dash brings a smile to my face.

Apparently, it brings a smile to Rainbow Dash’s face too. She’s trying desperately to hold back her laughter. That doesn’t last long, though, and she soon breaks out into full on cackling. It quickly drowns out the fervor of the children, who slowly quiet down and stare at Rainbow Dash in confusion.

“Rainbow Dash, what the hay is goin on?” Applebloom asks. “Why’re you laughin?”

Rainbow Dash wipes tears from her eyes as the laughing fit ends. “Okay, okay,” she says in between chuckles. “Time to come clean. We were just messin with ya.”

“We?” asks Sweetie Belle. “You know a fake Applebloom?”

Rainbow Dash snorts again. “Nah,” she says, “it’s just. Well, get off em Scootaloo, and you’ll see.”

Scootaloo backs away from me and I take my cue, getting up and turning back into Strawberry Tart. The kids gasp, going wide-eyed, and Rainbow Dash grins at me. It’s all very awkward. What now? Rainbow Dash’s script ended here, what am I supposed to say? Surely they’re going to be upset.

Just as I think this, Sweetie Belle breaks the silence. “Wow!” she bursts out. “Strawberry, that is so cool!”

With this, all three kids swarm me, bombarding me with questions. “Can you turn into anypony,” “How do you know how to act,” “can you teach us.” An endless wave of curiosity, overwhelming me. I have no idea how to react, so I just stand there, speechless.

I look over to Rainbow Dash for help, and she laughs. “Alright, hey, back off for a sec,” she tells them. “Strawberry’s got somethin important to say before you all swarm them.”

The three little ponies listen and back away, looking up at me expectantly. What am I supposed to say? Just an introduction? Or… oh. Rainbow Dash wants me to apologize. Right.

How do apologies work? It can’t just be saying sorry and everything goes away. I’ve never had to do it, though. I thought Rainbow Dash was gonna be walking me through this part, not just throwing me into the deep end. I look over to her, but she’s just looking back at me, stone faced. Waiting to see what I’ll say.

“I, uh, don’t really know how to say this,” I begin. My throat is dry. I just have to say whatever comes to my head. “I guess, uh… I’m sorry?”

This is met with tilted heads and a chorus of confusion. Rainbow Dash rolls her eyes at me, and just says “more.” Okay.

“Okay,” I say. “Okay, I guess you need to know what I’m apologizing for? So, um, the other day, when Fluttershy showed up here and upset you all… that was me.” I swallow hard, and sit on the floor, feeling defeated. The three ponies’ faces all drop, looking destroyed. Applebloom looks towards Rainbow Dash, but she just motions to pay attention to me. Sweetie Belle is looking at me blankly, and Scootaloo is glaring.

Before I can think of how to continue, Applebloom speaks up and asks “Why?”

“I just-” my voice cuts out, unsure of how to continue. How do I explain my actions to children? They wouldn’t understand. “I’m just a bad pony,” I tell them. “I wanted to hurt you.”

It’s hard to keep eye contact, looking at their hurting faces. Sweetie Belle’s distant stare, Applebloom’s teary eyes. They’re children, they don’t know how to process this. It’s just raw pain. My chest aches looking at them. My body begs me to leave, to ignore this part like I normally do. I told Rainbow Dash I would try, though, so I force myself to stay.

Scootaloo tries to run past me, out of the treehouse, but Rainbow Dash intercepts her. When did she get behind me? “Whoa there, bud,” Rainbow Dash says, trying to sound comforting. “Just hear them out. For me, kay?”

Scootaloo peels away from Rainbow Dash with a huff. “Fine,” she says, and she goes and sits against one of the walls of the treehouse, looking away from us all.

Rainbow Dash puts a hoof on my shoulder. A soft, grounding touch, not something I would expect from her. “Keep goin,” she says quietly. “Tell them the whole story.”

So I do. I tell them about arriving in Ponville, and being intercepted by Pinkie. About why I did what I did, about being out of my depth, and about Pinkie discovering me. Rainbow Dash helps, where she can. Sweetie Belle seems to refocus on the world when I talk about her and Rarity coming over to decorate. Applebloom grins for just a moment when I mention being afraid of Applejack finding out about me. At some point, Scootaloo turns back to look at us, although she doesn’t come closer.

We’re all quiet for a long time after I finish. None of us know what to say. We just sit, all thinking, all processing what we’re feeling. Rainbow Dash goes and sits by Scootaloo. The air feels hot and stale as I breathe it in, waiting excruciatingly for some response.

The first one to speak is Scootaloo, but not to me. She gets up, walks over, and sits with the others, asking them “Are you guys mad?”

“Of course I’m mad,” Applebloom responds. I cringe. “You don’t just not be mad at somepony who does all that,” she continues.

“It sounded like Fluttershy’s not mad, though,” Sweetie Belle says.

“Yeah, cuz she’s Fluttershy,” Scootaloo says. “We can’t all be Fluttershy.”

“Yeah, I guess,” Sweetie Belle says. “So we’re mad, then?”

Applebloom nods. “Sure are,” she says.

“Alright,” Scootaloo says, then she turns and points at me with a glare. “We’re mad at you,” she says.

“Oh,” I respond. “I’m sorry.”

“You already said that,” Applebloom says.

“Yeah,” Sweetie Belle agrees. “We know you’re sorry. But we’re still mad.”

“Oh” I say. “I see.”

Rainbow Dash laughs and comes over beside me. “Last time I made em mad,” she says, “they didn’t get past it til I said I’d take them to Canterlot to see what kinda different things ponies in the city do.”

“You deserved that!” Applebloom tells her. “You’re lucky we aren’t still mad.”

“What did you do to get them that mad?” I ask.

Rainbow Dash laughs bashfully. “I, uh, may have convinced her to take another shot at learning to sew cuz I thought it’d be funny to see Applejack’s face.”

Applebloom huffs. “I got grounded for like a month for that.”

“She grounded me too, ya know,” Rainbow Dash replies. “She gave me the cold shoulder for ages.”

Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo laugh at the two bickering, and I find myself smiling as well. Weirdly enough, I think knowing they’re angry feels kind of nice. I guess it gives me hope that, maybe some day, they can stop being angry.

Chapter 11

beep beep beep

Huh? Was that… No, just a dream.

beep beep beep

“You gotta be louder.”

Beep Beep Beep

Not a dream… Pinkie Pie, then.

“No, no, louder!”

“That was louder!”

“Here, you gotta do it like this. BEEP BE-”

“I’m up!” I shout as I fall off the couch. “No more beeping, please. I’m getting- Fluttershy?”

“Good morning, Strawberry,” Fluttershy says grinning at me. “Did you sleep well?”

“Uh, yeah,” I reply. “But uh, why are you in my room?”

“I told Fluttershy she could wake you up since she was here,” Pinkie says. “Well, try to wake you up.” Fluttershy nods along with her.

“Okay…” I mumble. “So why am I awake?”

“Oh! Right,” Fluttershy says. “I came over to ask Pinkie if I could take you somewhere today.”

“Apparently Fluttershy had an idea for how to get through to you,” Pinkie adds. “Which, by the way, you’re in trouble for not telling me you told Fluttershy!” She huffs and frowns at me.

“What am I, grounded?” I ask.

“You sure are!” Pinkie says. “I’ll figure out what you’re actually grounded from later. But for now you gotta do everything Fluttershy says.” Both ponies smirk at me.

“Yeah, I know,” I say. “What tests do you have to run on me today?”

“That’s a surprise,” Fluttershy says. “I hope you’re ready for a long trip. Oh, um, would you be okay turning into a Pegasus? It would be an awfully long trip on foot.”

“Yeah, it shouldn’t be a problem,” I say. “Apparently Rainbow Dash already knew about me, so I can just pretend to be her.”

“What!?” Pinkie exclaims. “Well, now you’re double grounded! You better be ready when you get back.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll prepare myself for the biggest ‘you’re grounded’ party I’ve ever seen,” I say with a smirk.

Then we’re in the air, the biting winds blowing away the last traces of sleep. We keep a comfortable, leisurely pace for the trip. Slow enough for me to get my first good look at the colorful world below me, vibrant blues and greens stretching to the horizon, an endless gallery of landscapes.

“So are you really not gonna tell me where we’re going?” I ask after a bit.

“Well, we’re going to a pond,” she tells me. “It’s very pretty.”

“Okay, well that doesn’t help at all.”

She laughs. “Hey, let’s play a game! It is a long trip, after all.”

“A game?” I ask. “What kind?”

“Not a hard one,” she tells me. “Just questions. We take turns asking each other questions, and we have to tell the truth. If you can’t answer, you lose. Easy, right?”

“This feels like a trap,” I say.

“Maybe. But Pinkie said you have to do what I want. So, you go first.”

I sigh. “Okay, uh, what’s your favorite food?”

“Oh, it’s no fun if you don’t try to win,” she says. “It’s peaches. My turn now. Why did you make yourself so small?”

“It was just instinct,” I say. “I guess probably to look less dangerous.”

“Ooh, interesting,” she coos. “You’re really very instinctual, much more than ponies tend to be. Okay, your turn. Um, really try to win, okay? It’s fun!”

“I’ll try,” I concede. “Okay, what about this one, do you have feelings for any of your friends?”

“Ooh, that’s much better,” she says. “Okay, um, well, I really… enjoy my time with Pinkie Pie.” She looks over to me, smiling through a deep blush, and I smile back. “Oh, you can’t tell her though!” she suddenly shouts, covering her glowing face. I chuckle and nod.

“Okay, my turn!” Fluttershy says after cooling down. “Um, if you, hypothetically, decided to try as hard as you can to be good, and it worked, and you settled down in Ponyville with us… Would you be happy?”

I look down at the ground scrolling past under us. That’s a lot of caveats. But would I? It takes me several long, quiet minutes to work through that in my head. Eventually, though, I look back up and tell her “Yeah.”

Fluttershy claps and hugs me without warning. “Yay!” she exclaims.

“Okay, my turn,” I say, peeling away from her. “If, hypothetically, this all goes very wrong, and you all get hurt so bad you can never speak to each other again. Could you be happy? Like, ever again?”

Fluttershy frowns. “What a sad thing to think,” she says. “See, Strawberry, those kinds of thoughts are, um, they’re just not healthy. This is why you need friends, being alone all your life with nopony to stop those thoughts, it’s… Oh, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t be preaching like that. I almost ruined the game! Yes, Strawberry, I could be happy again. Nothing could ever take that away from me.”

I sigh and nod. She hugs me again. I let her.

“Well, um, I think it’s my turn,” she tells me after she pulls away. “Strawberry, what do you want from all this? If you took away all your negative thoughts, your beliefs about how things are bound to happen, what do you actually want at the end of this?”

I hum, turning the question over and over in my head. What do I want? How do I answer that? Do I even have an answer? Questions upon questions.

“I don’t think I can answer that, Fluttershy.”

Fluttershy grins. “See, not such an easy game, is it?” she taunts. “Don’t worry, you can try again on the way back, and try to be less, um, serious. Look, though. We’re here!”

She points down at the ground. It takes some looking, but sure enough, there’s a tiny spot of blue hidden in some trees. It’s hardly big enough to even be called a pond.

“We came all this way for a puddle?” I ask as we land by the water. It’s dark and murky, a bottomless depth hidden in the clouds under the surface. The forest around us lays silent as we intrude.

“Strawberry, don’t be rude,” Fluttershy says. “The pond is somepony’s home.”

“What, fish? Is it even big enough for fish?”

Fluttershy grins and gently swirls one hoof along the water, then steps back by me and waits. “We’re here to meet a friend,” she says.

I watch the ripples as they expand, crossing the pond. They fan out and subside, and just as the water goes smooth again, the surface starts to shudder. Bubbles and waves mark the shore as a creature slowly emerges from the waters and faces us.

The pony in front of me is massive, muscles rippling against a pale green coat. Easily twice my normal size, it pushes the boundaries of what could be called a pony. A mane of seaweed drips down its side as it appraises us with large, colorless eyes.

I leap into the air away from it as soon as it reaches land. “Fluttershy, are you trying to kill me?” I shout. “That thing could rip me apart!”

Fluttershy huffs and glares at me. “Get back down here,” she demands. “You are being horribly rude.”

The kelpie looks at Fluttershy strangely, and when it opens its mouth, the thousand voices of a drowned legion fills the air. “Your friend Rainbow Dash was far more sociable during your last visit, was she not?”

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” Fluttershy responds. “It’s, um, a complicated situation. We can explain once they actually come down here.”

I swallow hard and float back down, landing behind Fluttershy.

“Okay, now turn back into yourself,” Fluttershy tells me.

“But-” she glares at me again. “Fine,” I say, becoming Strawberry Tart once more.

The kelpie widens its eyes. “Oh, well that is certainly an unexpected development. Fluttershy, when did you meet this one?”

Fluttershy sighs and smiles. “Um, just the other day. They’re convinced that monsters can’t live peacefully, so I thought…”

“Wait, Fluttershy,” I say, “are you saying that you-”

The kelpie stamps a hoof on the ground. “Yes!” it declares. “Fluttershy has been my friend for many years now.”

Fluttershy smiles at me and goes to sit on the ground near the kelpie, motioning for me to join her. Hesitantly, I do, and the kelpie sits as well. “Well, um, go ahead,” she tells us. “Introduce yourselves.”

“Oh,” I say. “Well, I’m Strawberry Tart I guess. Fluttershy’s newest pet project.”

The kelpie laughs, a chorus of a hundred final breaths. “I was her first!” it says. “I have no name, as none would suit me. I am a creature born of the undercurrent of this world. ‘It’ will suffice. Tell me, shapeshifter, what has led Fluttershy to bring us together?”

“I don’t know,” I mumble. “I guess she wants me to get over feeling like I’m dangerous?”

“Hmm,” the kelpie hums, the groan of a ship in a storm. “Strawberry Tart, when do you think was the last time that I got my nourishment from a pony?”

“Well, you said you’ve known Fluttershy for a while. So maybe, like, five years?” I guess.

“It was yesterday.”

My jaw falls. Fluttershy gasps. “Oh, no,” she says, “what happened?”

“There was a shipwreck,” it says. “One did not survive. It is as happens in this world.”

“Oh, how awful,” Fluttershy says. “You saw the others back to shore, right?”

“Of course, Fluttershy,” the kelpie says. “No need for more to succumb to the waves.”

“So, what’s your point?” I ask.

“I am a kelpie,” it tells me. “This cannot change. My instincts draw me to the vulnerable. I prey on the drowned to subsist. These things cannot be changed. They are a part of me. Yet, I am not a danger. I do not kill. I do not lure ponies into the depths. I am dangerous, yes, but I am no danger. These things, both, can hold truth.”

“Hmm,” I hum. “But did you do that stuff before Fluttershy met you? Maybe you just never really became a monster in the first place.”

“I assure you, I was a monster,” it says. “The darkness does not await the light. To fight one’s nature is no small battle. It is a revolution.”

“If it’s so hard, how can you expect me to do it?” I ask.

“I do not,” it says. “This fight is one of willpower. The only way to fail, ultimately, is to give in. You, shapeshifter, have not shown even the will to begin.”

“Well, that’s a bit harsh,” Fluttershy interjects. “Strawberry, I still believe in you. You just have to believe in yourself.”

I look at the ground. “I don’t know,” I say. “I’m still not convinced. For all I know, you could have been lying to Fluttershy all this time just to lure her into your pond here.”

Fluttershy frowns at me. “Strawberry, I’ve known the kelpie for years. That’s a long time to lie like that.”

“No, it is an understandable point,” the kelpie says. “It would not be efficient, but it would work.”

Fluttershy thinks for a moment before standing up. “Fine,” she says, “if that’s what it takes, I’ll prove it.”

“Wait, Fluttershy,” I say, but before I can protest further, she leaps into the air and dives into the water. She vanishes instantly into the murky depths. The kelpie gets up after her, and my legs start moving, running and diving into the water before the creature can make a move.

I pry my eyes open underwater, but all that I find is a stinging darkness. The filthy water engulfs me, shooting an excruciating pain through my face. The pain knocks the wind out of me, stealing the little air I had in my lungs, and immediately my legs feel hot and sluggish.

I swim forward blindly, grasping at water, hoping to at least find the bottom. Any point of reference in the encroaching void. My chest starts to burn, my muscles feel stiff. My mind buzzes and spins. I push through it.

The bottom never comes. No ground, no walls, no surface, no Fluttershy. Just water. Water, pain, and… hooves? Something wrapping around my waist, dragging me. Fluttershy? Or… No, not Fluttershy.

My mind goes blank. It’s over. I give up.

My entire world goes hazy. First my senses, my vision going black, my limbs numbing. I stop feeling the water rush past me, the grasp around my waist. Then my thoughts go. No fear, but also no acceptance. No turmoil, yet no peace. No despair. No hope.

I look for refuge in my memories, fresh ones, of Ponyville, of Pinkie. Memories of… no, what was her name again? I can’t quite picture her face. Just a shape, a color. A color? Blue, or yellow, or… just dark. Just darkness.

For so long, just darkness.

Then light. Blinding, incandescent. Followed by noise, a buzzing, color, a blue sky, a yellow shape, and finally thought, recognition. Fluttershy, soaked, filling my eyes.

And then the pain. I double over and retch, coughing out a throat full of dirty water. My whole body is on fire, my chest, my eyes, my muscles. Too much to handle all at once, so I just curl up, try to tighten everything at once, force the pain away. A hoof rests on my side, rubbing, calming, relaxing, and I drift back into the darkness.

The next time I wake up is easier. Hushed voices hum in my ear as I realign my world. The pain doesn’t wait this time, taking me immediately, but it’s manageable. I can think. With a groan I wake myself up and try to push off the ground, before coughing violently and collapsing again.

“Oh, Strawberry!” a voice calls out as it rushes towards me. “Thank goodness you’re alright, I was so worried.” I roll myself over painfully to look at her, and Fluttershy fills my vision once more. She’s smiling, as always, but her eyes are damp and tired.

“This was a bit much, you know,” another voice calls out, and soon Rainbow Dash blocks the remaining sky. “I told you to try, not die.”

“I’m sorry,” I groan out.

“Just get better,” Rainbow Dash tells me, “so I can kick your butt.”

“Fluttershy is okay?”

“Dude, you think you’d be here if she wasn’t?” Rainbow Dash says.

“I’m perfectly fine,” Fluttershy tells me. “Just shaken up. I came right back out of the water, and you were both gone.”

“Where’s the kelpie?” I ask.

“It didn’t want to stay,” Fluttershy says. “It’s not very good with things like this.”

“Oh,” I say, and cough again. “So which one of us do you think Pinkie is gonna be mad at?”

Fluttershy laughs, a soft, weak laugh. A welcome laugh.

It takes us several hours to get back to Ponyville. Between slow movement, frequent breaks, and my needing support, we don’t reach home until well after dark. I’m about ready to pass out again when we arrive, but I don’t have them take me home quite yet.

“Are you sure this can’t wait for tomorrow?” Fluttershy asks.

“The light’s on,” I say.

“But you need rest,” Fluttershy protests. “If you strain yourself you could get hurt.”

“I’m already hurt,” I reply.

“C’mon, Fluttershy,” Rainbow Dash says. “Let them do things on their own terms.”

I knock on the door as the two fly off. It’s not long before a tired pony answers the door.

“Strawberry?” Rarity asks. “It’s awfully late. Are you- Oh my word, are you okay? You look just dreadful.”

I nod and attempt to smile, then cough and stumble. “I’m alright,” I say. “I, uh… Rarity, there’s something important I need to talk to you about.”

Author's Note

The End ☺ Thanks for reading

A note: (Warning, I'm about to talk about gender)
In this chapter, the kelpie says to call it 'it.' This was an intentional choice. Because of this, though, I feel I should add this note in saying: Do not ever refer to a person as "it" unless you are explicitly asked to by that person. It is dehumanizing, and it is hurtful. Strawberry does it, but Strawberry sucks. Be better than Strawberry.

If anyone has any grievances about this decision, feel free to contact me and I can talk to you more in depth about it.

Chapter 6

Wandering aimlessly through Ponyville does a lot to help me gather my thoughts. The warm, crisp air, the afternoon sun casting the world in a cozy glow. It calms me, clears my head. Lets me reexamine my priorities.

My wandering has brought me to a small park towards the outskirts of town. Well kempt grass and trees surrounding a small pond. Ponies are scattered around, taking in the atmosphere, but it’s an easy place to be alone in. The pond is spanned by a simple stone bridge, well made but clearly more about utility than form, and I find myself here, leaning over the railing.

The water is smooth and clear as I stare into it. Fish dart around under the surface, waiting for some generous or bored pony to toss them food. Ponies walk by behind me, sightseeing or relaxing, paying me no mind. Every so often a duck or a leaf will disturb the water, casting out ripples which warp and skew my reflection.

Looking back at the events since I got here, I see them with a clear perspective. Poor decisions snowballing together, unchecked emotions running rampant. It’s clear to me that this place, these ponies, have had an effect on me. Reintroduced compassion into my life.

This is unacceptable.

What I do is a form of protection, a way to shield myself from the harshness of the world. More than that, it’s the only way I know how to live. My stress relief, my meditation, my daily routine. It works, it’s kept me going, kept me happy, for lifetimes. I can’t let some pink girl and her friends ruin that for me.

So I need to leave. Tonight, when I can be sure no eyes are on me. No going back to Pinkie’s, no saying goodbye. Leave before any of them can notice I’m gone, and start over somewhere else, play it smarter. I can’t ever let this happen again.

On that note, I should probably not spend the rest of my time here as Strawberry Tart. There's no way to know what I might do if I get in another situation like the one with Rarity. Plus, pulling off a simple job will help me get back into the right mindset.

Looking around, there’s not too many targets to choose from. The park is fairly empty, and a lot of the ponies that are here came here alone. Aside from them, there’s a family having a picnic, a couple of ponies that look like old friends catching up, and a small group tossing around a frisbee. The two friends are the closest, so let’s go with them.

Step one is to gather information. There's no easy cover, so my best option is just to walk by them and hope to catch something. It's not very reliable, but it won't raise any suspicion.

I look them over as I get near. One’s a small white pony with a two-tone blue mane and gaudy glasses. She’s clearly the more energetic of the two. The other is taller, all gray, listening to her friend’s every word. It’s not long before I’m close enough to pick up their conversation.

“So I’m gonna see you tonight, right?” The white one asks.

“You might,” replies the gray one slyly.

“I better,” the white one says, hitting the other one on her shoulder. “I’m gonna blow the roof off that place. And when I do I’m gonna need you there to keep them from kickin me out.”

The gray pony laughs, and says “I’m not sure I could stop them at that point.”

“Well, then,” the white pony says, “you gotta be there so it’s not just me going on the run.”

They both laugh as I walk out of earshot. It’s hard to get much, but this time was lucky. That was more than enough to form a plan of action.

It’s simple enough. Copy the white pony, and wait for the two to separate. Catch up to the gray one and tell her she can’t go to the event. She’ll be sad to get disinvited, and the other will be sad when she doesn’t show up. Two birds, one stone, in and out no problem. Plus, odds are the gray pony will just go home after getting the bad news, so I can pretend to be her for the rest of the day to avoid Pinkie.

The only hitch is that I need a place to change. There’s very little cover in the park, and if I leave or wait to change until later I risk losing my opening. Every second spent as Strawberry Tart is a gamble. Luckily, hardly anyone is here, and they’re all in the sunnier areas. It only takes a second to change; any simple cover will do.

I look around and find the most isolated spot. It’s a big, low tree in a far corner of the park. The trunk is wide, and the canopy casts a sizable shadow. There’s no ponies anywhere nearby, so I walk over and take up refuge in the shade.

I look back past the tree to make sure the coast is clear. None of the ponies are looking in this direction, and even if they did it’s too far away for them to see anything definitive. I take another look at the white pony, memorize her appearance, and make the change. It’s over in an instant, my brown fur going stark white, and-

“WOAH!”

I curse and wheel around, gritting my teeth, and find myself face to face with Pinkie Pie. She’s awestruck, jaw gaping open. There’s no doubt that she saw me transform. This is a complete disaster.

“Strawberry, I didn’t know you-” she begins, but I jump forward and put my hoof over her mouth to shush her. When I take it away, she continues in a hushed whisper. “Strawberry, I didn’t know you were Vinyl Scratch.”

What? Ugh, I can’t pay attention to her. I need to think this through. My instincts are screaming at me, urging me to just get rid of her, but I don’t know if I can bring myself to do that. Compassion has poisoned me, made me weak.

“Wait, no…” I hear Pinkie mumble. “That doesn’t make sense, she’s lived here for years. So that means…” She deflates in front of me. Her ears droop, her mane drops, her smile fades. The shadow cast by the tree drains into her, whisking away her color and vibrancy. She falls back onto the ground and stares into the dirt.

Could I convince her to keep me secret? I can’t imagine even she would be that trusting, not after this. She has to know I was behind the issues with Fluttershy, there’s no way she won’t take action. I have no other choice, though, I have to find a way to keep her quiet.

“No…” Pinkie mumbles under her breath.

“Pinkie,” I say to her. “Please, you can’t tell the other about this. You don’t know how they’ll react.”

“No,” she says, shaking her head.

“Come on,” I plead. “I was gonna leave tonight anyway. I messed up, okay, I got too close. You’ll never see me again after today.”

She puts her head in her hooves. "No, no, no."

"Pinkie, if you send people after me it'll just make things harder for both of us," I say. I'm running out of ideas.

“No!” she bursts out, standing back up. None of her brightness has come back, but her eyes burn behind a layer of tears. “You’re not allowed!”

I try to back up away from her, and run into the tree behind me. “Pinkie,” I say, “I know how angry you must be with me, but-”

“You’re my friend!” she says, cutting me off. “You’re not… my friends aren’t allowed to be bad guys.”

“What?” I stammer out.

“I made you my friend,” she says, prodding me in the chest. “That means you don’t get to be a bad guy anymore.”

“Pinkie, what are you saying?” I ask.

“I’m saying you’re not allowed!” she says. “Not allowed to hurt me, not allowed to hurt other ponies, not allowed to leave, not, not, not allowed!”

“That’s just who I am!” I say. “I’m a bad guy, I hurt others. You let me in, and I hurt you. That’s just what happens. This is what I am.”

“You’re right,” she says, her voice cracking. “I let you in, and you hurt me. You hurt my friends. That’s my fault. But you know what? A good friend doesn’t let their friends just disappear when things go wrong. A good friend sees their friends at their lowest and helps them get better. And that’s what I’m gonna do. I’m gonna make you good.”

“That’s nonsense,” I say. “I can’t be good. I’m a bad guy, a monster, a force of nature. I’ll never be anything else.”

“I can’t accept that!” Pinkie says. She’s almost shouting. “Maybe you could fake it as Fluttershy, or Applejack, or whatever. But I met Strawberry Tart. I saw who you are. I can’t let myself believe that was all made up.”

“Why would I even stick around to let you try?” I ask.

“You’re not gonna have a choice,” she tells me. Her eyes are pointed, determined, but still blurred by tears. “Cuz if you leave, I’ll tell my friends all about you, and they’ve stopped bigger bad guys than you. They’ll never let you hurt another pony. So if you want me to stay quiet, you either gotta do what I say, or prove that you can’t be good and make me.” She stomps on the ground, tears streaming down her cheeks.

She’s right. My only out is to stop her here and now, and… I can’t. I can’t do it. So instead, I turn back into Strawberry Tart, slump back against the tree, and say “Fine.”

“I knew it,” Pinkie says. A shaky smile breaks through the tears.