The way to a mare's heart is through the things she loves, right? Right?
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The way to a mare's heart is through the things she loves, right? Right?
“This wouldn’t be so hard if you weren’t such a baby, you know.”
Thorax groaned as he tried to shove his face further under a pillow. He only succeeded in further impaling one of his few unpatched pillows on one of his antlers, but that was the last thing he was concerned about at the moment.
“I don’t need your advice right now, Pharynx,” he muttered, rolling over on his bed. The pillow clung to his antlers, like a hearth's warming eve decoration gone enthusiastically wrong. “She doesn’t even notice me when I try to say hello. It’s like I’m not even there.”
Pharynx laughed, and with a hoof he casually tore the pillow off his brother’s horns. “That’s cuz you’re a coward, Thorax. Mares appreciate a changeling who can take charge, who can protect them when somepony tries to eat them, or-”
Thorax groaned. “Nopony is eating anypony. She doesn’t even live in the Badlands, so it isn’t even like that. I just… ugh. You wouldn’t understand, you don’t even like ponies.” He coughed, spitting out some pillow stuffing.
“You’re right, I don’t,” huffed Pharynx, batting at the shredded pillow with a hoof before lighting it on fire with a twist of magic. “I miss the old days, when changelings and ponies had a set relationship. No complicated friendships, no messy… emotions or feelings or songs about how everything’s nicer when everyone’s nice. It was much simpler.”
“I like how it is now,” muttered Thorax from under his pillow fluff.
Pharynx rolled his eyes. “Of course you do. I can’t give you advice now that everything’s weird, but if things were how they used to be, I’d say to turn into someone the mare loves, then feed off her love that way. But you wouldn’t listen anyway, would you? You’re just a crybaby who won’t listen to me!” He fluttered out of Thorax’s bedroom, no doubt to spar with some stronger changelings until his irritation levels were back down to normal.
“I didn’t ask for your advice, anyway,” grumped Thorax, a couple minutes after his brother was safely out of earshot. It wasn’t as if the old ways would help his chances with the mare of his dreams. Stupid advice, annoying brother.
It wasn’t as though he didn’t know what she liked or anything, it just wasn’t that sort of time anymore. Come to think of it, though, it wasn’t like he intended to actually foalnap her and feed off of her love. He just needed to find a way to say hi, and introduce himself. He brushed away a bit of the pillow bits, humming in thought. Actually, it might not be such bad advice after all…
It was bad advice, no question. Thorax was sure he was going to regret this, but maybe it’d be the easiest way to break the ice. He set down the basket, carefully lined with a checkered cloth. Tongue sticking out in concentration, the changeling straightened the note tied to the basket. Simple, classy, vaguely romantic unless the mare wasn’t interested. It was perfect. It had to be! Sure, he didn’t know her name quite yet, but what was better than giving a pretty mare a gift by way of introduction?
Nodding to himself, Thorax shapeshifted and nestled into position.
It was about an hour by his estimate before Thorax realized he may have miscalculated. Nopony walking past had sounded like the right mare, and he couldn’t see the clock from where he lay. Had nopony noticed him? Did he set himself up in front of the wrong shop? They all looked the same to him, all made out of wood and stone and roofs and windows and doors. What if somepony else found him, instead?
He heard hoofsteps nearby. Oh, gosh, maybe this was it! His ears would have strained to pick up every whisper of sound if he had ears. Something soft gently jostled the basket, turning it towards them, and his nonexistent breath caught in his nonexistent throat.
And there she was, filling up his vision. Mane, brushed to perfection then immediately tossed asunder by the wind. Muzzle, scrunched in adorable concentration. Eyes, perfectly crooked, looking their way straight into his heart. Mouth silently forming the words on his note, written with the utmost care.
To the prettiest mare,
I’d love to meet you, if you have the time. I see you a lot but you never stop to say hi. I know you’re pretty busy, and pretty, and busy, but I’d like to spend some time getting to know you better. Let me know if you’d like that, I’d love to hear it!
Anyway, I heard you love muffins, and I hope someday you’ll love me as much as one, too. I’ll be your muffin if you’ll be my mare, someday, if that interests you at all. If not we can just be good friends. And that’ll be fine! So just let me know what you think, okay?
Thorax frowned. Crap, he forgot to sign the note, didn’t he? He stared into her crooked eyes, searching for an answer in them. They blinked uncomprehendingly. Did he write the note in the wrong language by mistake? Did it make no sense? Was he wrong? Did she hate muffins and throw their wrappers away with disgust instead of a wistful longing for more (utterly delicious, that sort of love.)
Her gaze strayed from the note down to him, lying in the basket, a hopeful muffin. A smile began flickering on her lips. Thorax’s heart skipped a metaphorical beat. Was she going to say yes? Was this what flirting felt like? He felt something, some emotion building in her, so sweet and soft it took him a bit to identify it, and he didn’t want to ever let go of it.
“Oh my gosh!” She squealed, far too loud of a sound after hearing next to nothing for so long. The next thing Thorax saw was the world tumbling around him as the pegasus mare hugged the basket to her chest fluff, spinning around in giddy circles. Joy. That was the feeling. She was... happy! He made her happy! Oh gosh, he couldn’t believe it!
She giggled as he settled back into the basket, awash in her glowing giddiness. “Somepony likes me,” she whispered, as though it was too good to be true. Her grin spread even wider as she read the note again, holding the basket out so Thorax could see her enthusiasm growing. “They like me! They think I’m pretty! Somepony has a crush on meeee!” She crowed happily, wings aflutter as she landed on the front steps of the post office.
Thorax couldn’t help himself. “So that’s a yes, right? Oh goodness, I did it right! I just knew I could do it! You said yes, right? Can we do the whole friendship thing now?”
The mare, understandably, screamed and dropped the basket with the talking muffin in it. Thorax yelped as he felt it tumble to the ground. Crap, right, muffins don’t talk for ponies. Many things do… muffins don’t. He transformed back into his normal self, watching as his sweet mare backed into the door as she shrunk under his vision.
“Sorry, sorry,” he mumbled sheepishly, rubbing a hoof behind his head. “You said yes, right? Because I kind of like you, and I don’t know how ponies tell each other they like them, and with changelings we can kind of feel it with each other and no words are needed, but I don’t think that’s how ponies work.”
Thorax took a deep breath, and held out his hoof to the now-smaller-than-him mare, trying on a hesitant smile. She returned it, still overflowing with a cocktail of excitement and uncertainty. “I’m Thorax,” he said, without stuttering at all. Ha, take that Pharynx, he could speak to a mare without stumbling over himself! “I’d like to get to know you better, because I really like you. What’s your name?”
And, laughing a little, Derpy told him.
