Chapters A Rose by Any Other Name Would Look Just as Strange
Rosebug had endured countless trials and tribulations in her young life, and this most recent development showed no signs of changing that pattern. Just that morning she had been curtly informed of some very important news, she was being transferred to a new orphanage. This news likely would have been shocking for the young filly, had this not been the eighth time in her young life that such a thing had occurred. She had been shunted all across Equestria, from Fillydelphia, to Vanhoover, and even to the capital of Canterlot, but this newest location seemed different from the rest. It wasn’t a big or prominent city, but the small, rustic town of Ponyville. As Rosebug gathered up here meager possessions, against her better judgment, she couldn’t help but feel the slightest bit hopeful. She’d been burned before, and after having her hopes repeatedly shattered by hatred and prejudice, she’d simply given up on ever expecting things to meaningfully improve. But this time really did seem different, and the prospect of a new life away from the aggravation and bias of the city actually made Rosebug venture to hope. As she shuffled about the confines of her measly room, she caught a glimpse of her reflection in the mirror and scowled.
Rosebug had always hated her appearance, near every aspect of it was an ever present reminder of why she had been pushed to the edge of society. Her skin was black and chitinous, with rounded gashes littering her limbs and prickling her wings. A small, dagger-like horn composed of the same material sprouted from her forehead menacingly. Her wings were thin and filmy, though they did have a rosier tone to them then her insectoid, changeling kin. Her eyes were wide, composed of only her vibrant green irises with a glowing white shine. Her hair was the only part of her that was distinctively pony-esque at a glance. It was a dark rose color, accented with lighter pink highlights, and it hung over half her face as if shielding it from the world. The rest was pulled back into a low ponytail, tied off with a faded pink ribbon, one of the few possessions she dutifully held onto. Despite her clearly pony adjacent hair, many ponies still mistook her for a changeling, instead of the hybrid - an identity she took no more pride in - she truly was. There was one thing though that demonstrably set her apart, that being her cutie mark. It was nothing incredibly special by the standards of ponies - a rose head framed by ladybug wings - but it was incredibly meaningful to her as a clear indication of her pony parentage. Though they shared anatomical similarities to ponies, changelings, under no circumstances, could ever acquire a genuine cutie mark. Rosebug was broken from her less than pleasant personal narrations by a sudden, rough knock on her old door.
“Rosebug, your escort is here,” the Headmistress rasped, a disdainful venom emphasizing Rosebug’s name.
“Coming, Miss!” Rosebug yelped slightly, casting one final look at her reflection before stepping into the hallway.
The halls of Rosebug’s soon to be former residence were plain and unmemorable. The floors were comprised of pale, creaky wood, and the walls were plastered with cheap floral wallpaper. This same non-descriptiveness held true for the rest of the establishment. The rooms were sparsely furnished, the carpets were coarse and unpleasant, and the whole building emanated a scarce, cold energy that prevented her from ever feeling at ease. She had firsthand experience residing in orphanages all across Equestria, and though the minor details differed between each, they never deviated far from the baseline quality she had become unequivocally accustomed to.
When Rosebug crossed the threshold into the main room, she cringed slightly at the reaction of the other inhabitants. Most of the younger foals didn’t bat an eye, or stared mostly in curiosity and not judgment. Rosebug had always preferred the company of the foals as opposed to the older colts and fillies, finding them far more accepting, if only out of their naivety and childish innocence. The other children, however, didn’t look upon Rosebug so kindly. Most stared with barley concealed vitriol, while others less than subtly shuffled away out of still lingering fear. The room noticeably hushed as conversations were abandoned in favor of incredulously observing the hybrid. The observed hybrid sighed defeatedly - there was a good reason she remained in her room almost indefinitely most days. Rosebug turned her eyes to the floor and crossed the room as quickly as her nervous trot would allow. The Headmistress followed nonchalantly behind her, uncaring of the glares being cast at the filly ahead of her. Rosebug held her breath in anticipation as she pushed open the door, hoping dearly this newest chapter of her life wouldn’t fall into the same arduous pattern the previous had.
It was a surprisingly agreeable day, Rosebug found. The pale blue sky was swirled lightly with wispy, sun illuminated clouds. A pleasant breeze gently rustled the the surrounding leaves. And on the front stoop stood Rosebug’s aforementioned escort. She was a kindly looking earth pony with a clean, cream colored coat. Her mane was long and wavy, colored varying shades of brown, and her eyes, despite being a dark onyx, were gentle and kind. Her cutie mark was a simple depiction of a chocolate cookie shaped like a heart.
“My name is Chocolate Cheer!” She exclaimed. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
Rosebug was pleasantly surprised by her reaction. She’d been involved in many transfers not exceptionally different from this one, but this was the first time she could recollect the receiver not looking upon her with pity or disgust. Even those she could tell had initially been excited or intrigued quickly turned to harsher emotions when they realized how far she strayed from the appearance of a typical pony. The Headmistress, in contrast, was less than interested in Cheer’s pleasantries, and roughly interrupting her greetings.
“I take it you’ve seen to all of the necessary paperwork?” she asked, her tone less than impressed.
Chocolate Cheer staggered slightly, before recomposing herself to answer. Rosebug couldn’t help but cast her a sympathetic look.
“O-Oh, of course,” Cheer assured, “ I’ve registered and filed all the pertinent paperwork.”
“Well then, best of luck to you,” the Headmistress replied curtly, turning on her hooves and reentering the building.
Rosebug stood quietly for a moment, staring at the door in minor shock, before Cheer broke the rapidly building awkward silence.
“Your name’s Rosebug, right?” Cheer asked.
Now it was Rosebug’s turn to stagger. She quickly recovered though, and answered the posed question.
“Yeah,” She responded.
“Nice to meet you!” Chocolate Cheer extended a hoof to Rosebug.
Rosebug had a sneaking suspicion today was going to be different, but she hadn’t imaged it would be so drastic. The small kindnesses she had been shown over the years had come almost exclusively from the other children, as those in charge rarely looked upon her well. At worst she’d earn their scorn by principle of her species, and at best she’d usually gain nothing more than patronizing pity. Chocolate Cheer, however, looked upon her with a kindness she could only see as genuine. Shakily, she took Cheer’s hoof and shook it, eliciting a bright smile from the earth pony. The two traded simple banter as they finally departed from the orphanage, their destined clear in mind. The Baltimare train station, and the train that would ferry them to Ponyville. As they walked Rosebug seemed ecstatic, and to an extent she was, but she couldn’t help as her mind began to wander. She was overjoyed by Cheer’s kindness, but at the same time she couldn’t fathom why she would show such genuine kindness to someone the rest of society had labeled a freak. Rosebug had heard the old adage “Never look a gift horse in the mouth” many times before, but she couldn’t help but wish to appease her morbid curiosity.
“Why are you so nice to me?” Rosebug questioned, her voice coming out meeker than she’d expected.
Cheer stopped dead in her tracks, whirling around and starring at Rosebug with an equally shocked and concerned expression.
“What do you mean?” She asked, her voice loosing it’s bombastic quality and becoming more comforting in pitch.
“Well,” Rosebug began hesitantly, “most ponies haven’t exactly been very kind to me, most of them treat me like I’m a freak, o-or a monster. . .”
She couldn’t help her voice cracking as she explained, or the tears that welled in her eyes despite herself. As she clenched her eyes shut in an attempt to keep the tears from spilling, she felt her chin being raised by a furry hoof. When she managed to pry her eyes open, she found Cheer’s onyx eyes starring back at her sympathetically. Her mouth, however, was quirked into a mischievous smile.
“I’m not like them kid,” Cheer smooth over the messy edges of Rosebug’s hair “I think everypony deserves kindness, simple as that.”
Rosebug managed a watery smile and a quiet “thanks” as Cheer gently wiped the tears from her eyes. Their remaining walk to the train station was quiet, but it was a comfortable kind of quiet, the kind that gave the overwhelmed filly a chance to reflect. By the time she had worked through her tidal wave of emotions, she had hardly noticed they had already boarded and found their seats. Rosebug, however, couldn’t help but notice, and grimace at, the harsh and horrified looks being cast at her by the the other ponies within the carriage. Cheer, however, cast her a comforting smile, which Rosebug mirrored genuinely. She turned her attention to the window beside her, chitinous hooves pressed to the glass as she watched the landscape begin to whiz by. She could still feel the judgmental stares on her back, but for once they didn’t bother her, she had far more important things to think about know. A serene smile graced her lips as she lost herself to the scenery, the border between the city and countryside swiftly approaching.
A Rose by Any Other Name Would Look Just as Strange
Rosebug hadn’t realized how long she’d slept until she groggily opened her eyes to find the Ponyville train station just beyond the window. Peeling herself from the comfort of the cool glass, she peered down the aisle to find the majority of the train completely empty. Those who were still on board the train were either hastily grabbing their luggage, or already in the process of filing out. All except Cheer, who stood unhurried in the section of aisle adjacent to her seat, stretching out her sore muscles after the lengthy ride. Rosebug stifled a yawn, staggering slightly as her tired hooves hit the ground, before righting herself with a hasty flutter of her wings. Cheer cast the drowsy filly a well meaning smirk.
“How was your nap?” She asked genuinely.
“Good.” Rosebug rubbed the sleep from her eyes.
Their banter was interrupted by a booming announcement of the trains imminent departure. The two scampered off the train in haste, pausing on the platform as Rosebug enjoyed her first true look at Ponyville. The simple, unimpressive architecture of the train station paled in comparison to the size and grandeur of Equestria’s cities, and Rosebug loved it. She was enthralled that Ponyville had wholly lived up to her vision of an idealistic country town. Cheer gave the filly a gentle nudge, and gestured loosely to what Rosebug assumed was the location of Ponyville’s orphanage. The two took off at a brisk trot as Rosebug familiarize herself with her new environment. Simple, but seemingly well kept, dirt roads criss-crossed throughout the town, connecting homes and businesses on a semi-organized grid. The homes themselves all seemed to share the major staples of earth-pony architecture, neutral toned walls with obvious wooden reinforcements and thatched rooves. A few structures stuck out as having more modern, or even simply peculiar, designs, but most were simple and inoffensive. As Rosebug scanned her surroundings, she couldn’t help but notice a fair few stares from Ponyville’s residence. She was pleasantly surprised to find most ponies simply seemed curious, though she couldn’t ignore the hoof-full of less than welcoming glares levied her way. She managed to simply shrug those off though, as her eyes were drawn to a piece of architecture that left her speechless. Standing steadfast amongst the otherwise normal surrounding buildings was an oak tree, but it was clear from a single glance it was no normal tree. Tinted windows and balconies jutted from the tree’s trunk, littered with decorative lanterns and hanging ivy. A sign close by the front door denoted this building as Ponyville’s public library. As her cutie mark would attest, Rosebug was a lover of all things related to nature, so she could only stare in awe at the structure that laid before her.
“It’s definitely one of the more interesting buildings in Ponyville.” Cheer commented, chuckling slightly at the filly’s astonishment
Rosebug nodded in response, eyes firmly fixed to the amazing structure. She wouldn’t have minded admiring the structure longer, she was even tempted to ask if they could go inside, but the stares her presence warranted made her decided against that. Rosebug didn’t have much time to dwell on that though, as Cheer was already briskly trotting towards the now visible silhouette of the orphanage. Just past the library, edged by a sizable patch of trees, was just the building Rosebug had been waiting all day to see.
The two story home stood shrouded slightly by the broad leaves of the surrounding trees, noticeably detached from any surrounding homes or other buildings. It shared a similar facade to the majority of local buildings, with the caveat of it’s noticeably darker palette. The moody colors didn’t detract from it's appeal in Rosebug’s opinion, to her the subdued palette actually made it homier. A scattering of small shrubs and flowers littered the property, both on ground level and hanging from window boxes. The windows themselves were darken by curtain hung from the inside, preventing Rosebug from gleaming anything about it from the outside. By all accounts, it looked like a perfectly average house , save for one detail. A wooden sign not dissimilar to the one in front of the library stood against the stretch of wall besides the door, decorated with bold, golden lettering.
“Chocolate Cheer’s Orphanage for Hybrid and Crossbreed Foals,” Rosebug mouthed the written words to herself in surprise.
“I’ll take it that nobody informed you of this?” Cheer asked, catching on to the filly’s confusion. “Well, surprise!”
Rosebug cast the mare a lopsided smile, overwhelmed by the sudden revelation. She had honestly never humored the idea of anything being made with hybrids in mind, since they were such a niche minority of the population.
“C’mon, I bet the others are dying to met you!” Cheer pushed open the front door easily.
“O-Others?” Rosebug couldn’t help but splutter.
Cheer simply cast her a mischievous smirk in response, stepping inside as Rosebug swiftly followed.
A Rose by Any Other Name Would Look Just as Strange
Rosebug entered the orphanage swiftly, settling her chitinous hooves into the shag carpet beneath her. Looking out at the expanse of the room in front of her, she managed her first look at her new stand-in residence. The interior of the orphanage was mostly what Rosebug had expected from the general look of the exterior. Dark stained wood and subdued accent colors comprised the majority of the decorations. Though the room itself was average in size, it appeared far larger due to the lack of congregated furniture, most pieces being pressed against walls or arranged with ample space between them. The few items that did furnish the room took on a noticeably older styles, each piece marked with some sort of decorative flourish. An assortment of overstuffed bookshelves lined the walls, the book’s colorful spines adding a noticeable vibrancy to the otherwise low-key room. A few doorways led to rooms unseen, and a lofty staircase loomed against the back wall, leading to the also unseen second floor. Rosebug would have been overwhelmed by the idyllic coziness of the home had she not been intently focused on the orphanage’s other occupants. Two colts resided on opposite ends of the room, so absorbed into there activities they hadn’t yet noticed Cheer and Rosebug’s entrance.
In the left corner a small foal, half submerged in a toy-box, was feverishly searching for something out of Rosebug’s line of sight. His fur was alabaster white, strewn haphazardly with striking golden stripes. His hair sprung up in a shortened mohawk, the gold of his mane noticeably darker and the white segments being more accurately described as light grey. His eyes were large and innocent, shining a bright and distinctive aquamarine color. Even though she strained to see, Rosebug was only able to catch a quick glimpse of his cutie mark- which she could only discern to be a few overlapping lines.
Turning her attention to the opposite corner, she observed the second colt curled up contently on an armchair, soundly asleep besides a half-open book. His fur was a measured shade of blueish grey, and was noticeably fluffier than that of the average pony, including small tufts of fur along his ears. A pair of downy pegasus wings were tucked at his sides, and even from a distance Rosebug could tell his wingspan was noticeably larger than any pegasus foal she’d ever seen. She could easily discern that he was no average pegasus though, as the sharpened pair of fangs glinting against his dark fur gave that away. His mane was messy and unkempt, doled between shades of pale blue and mint, and hanging lazily over his face. Suddenly, the colt’s eyes flickered open, revealing periwinkle irises framing his visibly slitted pupils.
“Cheer?” The colt muttered, clearly still half asleep.
Before Cheer could manage a response, a clatter rang out from across the room. The aforementioned foal had ungracefully clambered from the toy-box - a unicorn doll held in his maw - and was now taking full notice to the two new additions to the room. Before Rosebug or Cheer could get a word out, the foal had crossed the room- unicorn doll swiftly forgotten - and was asking rapid fire questions faster than Rosebug could comprehend.
“Jeez Trinket, remember to breath.” Cheer chided gently, ruffling the foal’s cropped mane.
The excitable zebra hybrid calmed down somewhat, posing a single question to the filly in front of him.
“What’s your name?” Trinket sat expectantly as he waited for an answer.
“Rosebug,” She answered simply.
“That’s a pretty name,” Trinket responded with a grin.
A surprised, bashful blush dusted Rosebug's cheeks in an instant. She hadn’t even realized changelings could blush.
Cheer stifled an amused giggle as she trotted towards the staircase.
“I need to finish getting your room ready Rosebug, you three get to know each other in the meantime,” Cheer stated simply, casting them all a small smile before ascending the stairs.
A yawn echoed through the room, revealing the bat pony hybrid sitting, more accurately slouching, on his haunches, casting the both of them a drowsy glance.
“That’s Grimoire,” Trinket informed cheerfully, “he’s always sleepy because he’s. . .”
Trinket quieted in though, contemplating for a few long moments before casting a pleading glance to the bat pony in question.
“Nocturnal.” Grimoire propped himself up slightly.
“That!” Trinket yelped in realization.
Rosebug nodded along bemusedly throughout the display. The three sat together and traded simple pleasantries and other types of inconsequential banter as Rosebug studied the colts quietly. Trinket was obviously very excitable and animated, talking fast and with little or lacking definition to his words. Grimoire, in contrast, was fairly composed, speaking with more academic words and a subdued tone - though that may have been due to the fact he had just recently woken up. Rosebug herself didn’t have much to say, answering questions when posed but mostly listening intently on the conversation’s sidelines. That was until the topic of conversation turned to cutie marks.
“My cutie mark is super cool!” Trinket exclaimed, only partially prompted.
“What exactly is it?” Rosebug questioned politely.
Even though she could know get a clear look at his cutie mark - that being an overlapping cluster of dark golden lines- she still couldn’t discern it’s deeper meaning.
The foal wracked his brain for a moment, before turning to the bat pony besides him as he had before.
“What was the symbol called again?” Trinket half-whispered.
Grimoire covertly retrieved the book at his side, revealing to Rosebug, intentionally or not, that the book's contents were a collection of commonly recorded cutie marks. He flipped quickly to a page, which seemed to have already been marked off, and leaned over to read off the information to Trinket.
“It’s a friendship knot,” Grimoire whispered in a sleep dulled voice.
“Yeah, a friendship knot!” The foal yelped happily. “Because I love making new friends!” Trinket was practically vibrating with excitement.
Rosebug couldn’t help but ruffle the foal’s mane affectionately, mirroring what Cheer had done minutes earlier. A beat of contented silence passed between the three before another question was posed.
“What does your cutie mark represent?” Grimoire asked. “Specifically, I mean.”
Rosebug deliberated briefly on her answer before responding.
“It’s pretty simple, really,” Rosebug admitted. “I love flowers of all sort, and pretty much anything else that has to do with nature.”
Rosebug gave a lopsided smile as she though back to the oak tree library that had left her utterly awestruck before.
“I’ve never gotten to do very much gardening before,” Rosebug confessed, “but I’ve gotten to read plenty of books on the subject.”
Rosebug usually wasn't excited to talk about her cutie mark with others, so she was surprised to find herself practically giddy at the prospect. Grimoire too had noticeably perked up - specifically at the mention of books - shaking off his lingering sleep for the first time since she’d arrived.
“Cheer’s got tons of books on Equestrian plant life, I can show you some if you’d like,” Grimoire offered.
Rosebug smiled genuinely, gratefully accepting his offer and hurriedly shuffling off to one of the nearby bookcases with Trinket in tow. Her mind was abuzz with questions and queries of all sorts, the most pertinent being the identity of Grimoire’s cutie mark. He’d been so tucked up early she hadn’t gotten a chance to see it, nor had she managed to mention it during their earlier conversation. Casting the colt an inconspicuous glance, she found the spot normally occupied by the marking complete barren - Grimoire was a blank flank. He quickly caught on to her thought process, casting her a skewed smile that wordlessly portrayed his embarrassment. She offered him a comforting grin in return, and his worries seemed to be at least partially alleviated. Now in better spirits, Grimoire returned to scanning the bookcases. Trinket dutifully copied the bat pony’s motions, excited to help any way he could, only to get promptly distracted by the colorful spine of a nearby storybook.
Rosebug couldn’t help but utter a hushed giggle as she watched, settling besides the shelves as Grimoire continued searching. Even then a smile continued to lace her lips, an unshakable joy having settled over the filly ever since she’d met Cheer earlier that day. She’d almost felt like a completely different pony since then, all but overwhelmed by the unrestrained happiness and hope she’d begun to feel. Suddenly, an all but forgotten memory flashed through the young filly’s mind.
“Changelings feed off of love and affection.” The phrase echoed in her mind in the voice of her younger self, repeated from the pages of a book about her kin.
Suddenly everything made perfect sense. For all her life she had lived within an uncaring foster system that viewed her as a freakish monster, that hated and despised her senselessly, but today that had changed. She had, for the first time she could recall, received and reciprocated real, genuine love, the thing every changeling craved above all else. Ever since she was young, Rosebug had been stricken by a gnawing emptiness she could never quite shake, having long since chalked the strange sensation up to abstract loneliness or abandonment. Now, however, she realized the truth of the matter, she'd been practically starved her entire life! Now though she was experiencing an outpouring of love unlike any she’d ever received, and she felt practically lighter than air. As she willed herself back to reality, she realized she actually was . In her growing exuberance over her immense revelation, she had begun unknowingly fluttering a fair distance above the ground. Rosebug lowered her chitinous hooves to the ground as discreetly as she could, still managing to incite an innocently amused look from Trinket. She gave the foal a quick pat on the head, just as Grimoire pulled the promised piece of literature from the shelf besides her.
“The Young Gardener's Guide to Equestrian Foliage,” Rosebug scrutinized the words imprinted against the hardcover book.
Taking the book in her magic, Rosebug slouched to her haunches against the nearby shelves, flipping open the book to a section she picked at random. She was happy to find the section covered an intriguing topic, bio-luminescent plants and flowers. Though he was noticeably hesitant at first, Grimiore leaned in as well, reading along with unconcealed interest. Trinket didn’t find much value in the pages words, but was noticeably entranced by the bright, detailed illustration that littered the page.
Cheer stood midway down the staircase, watching the huddled foals contently. She had long since finished the necessary preparations for Rosebug’s room, but she couldn’t bring herself to interrupt them. Sitting against the wooden steps and peering through the gaps of the railings, Cheer watched with a serene smile as the three foals studied the book with undivided interest.
A Rose by Any Other Name Would Look Just as Strange
The orphanage’s backyard was, in many ways, equally as idyllic as the building itself. Gothic styled picket fencing enclosed the moderately sized yard, revealing small glimpses of the surrounding forest through the gaps in the wood. The wood itself was stained a dark shade of tawny, and was noticeably worn from weather and age. Overgrown patches of ivy snaked around the wooden posts in creeping clusters, and wild ferns and flowers dotted the otherwise disinteresting lawn. A sturdy maple tree lumbered over a portion of the yard, a swing tied tightly around one of it’s outstretched branches. Rosebug’s attention was drawn, however, by one single facet of the backyard, the garden. The garden was, at the moment, completely barren, being nothing more than a sectioned off patch of upturned dirt. Rosebug was excited nonetheless, her mind abuzz with notions of all the different kinds of flowers and flora she could plant there.
Though Rosebug was wholly alone with her thoughts, she wasn’t alone in the backyard - not at all - as both Trinket and Grimoire were outside with her. Grimoire, being that it was currently midday, was soundly asleep beneath the broad leaves of the maple tree, a hard-cover book clasped tightly between his hooves. Rosebug was admittedly less sure of what Trinket was doing, as she had seen him traipsing around the yard collecting up small items with seemingly no greater purpose to his actions. Trotting over to the corner of the yard he was currently sat in, she finally caught sight of what he had been up to. In the space where the edge of the orphanage met the fence, a small divet overflowed with collected rainwater. Floating on the puddle’s surface were the various item Rosebug had seen Trinket collect. Leaves, both broad and slender, blades of grass, twigs, clumps of bark, and seeds were among the items Rosebug could make out, not even accounting for the heavier items that had already sunk into the murky shallows. Trinket himself was starring intently at the strange concoction that laid before him, barley acknowledging Rosebug’s presence.
“What are you doing?” Rosebug asked, taking a seat besides him.
“I’m making a potion!” Trinket responded enthusiastically.
Rosebug tilted her head in confusion, casting a sideways glance at the mud swirled puddle. Trinket, easily picking up on her confusion, clarified.
“Zebras are known for making potions,” Trinket explained, “I don’t know how to make any real ones, but I’m really good at making pretend ones!”
Rosebug chuckled good-naturedly at the foal’s antics, before following Trinket’s gaze back to the all important puddle.
“It’s still missing something, but I’m not sure what,” Trinket added after a beat of silence.
“I can help you look,” Rosebug replied nonchalantly, staring at her warped reflection on the puddle's rippled surface.
“Really!” Trinket got to his hooves in an instant, casting Rosebug an almost cartoonishly wide smile.
“Of course,” Rosebug assured, getting to her hooves as well.
Though neither of them were particularly sure what they were looking for, Rosebug at least had an idea of what she wasn’t . Glossing over the assortment of half buried twigs and dust coated pebbles, Rosebug focused first on the variety of plants that grew amongst the abundant amount of undergrowth. As she admired a particularly interesting cluster of ferns, Rosebug felt the unmistakable, well worn dread of a stare being levied at her back. Turning hesitantly on her hooves, she found Trinket staring almost past her, a contemplative look adorning his features.
“What’s the matter?” Rosebug asked reluctantly, noticeably snapping the foal from his thoughts.
“Your wings look different.” Trinket answered simply.
Rosebug had anticipated a variety of answers, that wasn’t even near one of them. Craning her heck to see, Rosebug realized he was indeed right. Her normally thin, crisp wings seemed noticeably less flimsy, and glinted heavily in the afternoon sun. Fluttering them pensively, she found they even seemed to better support her weigh as she flew
“That’s. . . weird,” Rosebug muttered to herself.
“Is it a changeling thing?” Trinket asked, tilting his head curiously.
Rosebug rubbed the back of her neck uncertainly. “I don’t really know.”
Her admission didn’t seem to concern the foal, as after a few beats of uncertain silence both hybrids returned wordlessly to their aimless searching. Shaking of the last of her lingering concern and confusion, Rosebug’s attention was starkly grabbed by a blue petaled flower tucked amongst the accumulated weeds. Grasping the flower’s delicate stem between her teeth, she trotted over to Trinket, who was pawing determinedly at a rock half-way buried in a clump of dirt.
“Is this what you were looking for?” She asked, her voice muffled around the flower in her maw.
Almost instantly, the foal’s eyes lit up, an excited smile returning to his face.
“That’s perfect!” He yelped delightedly.
Standing now just above the murky pool, Rosebug let the flower gently fall to the water's surface.
“What now?” Rosebug asked, swiveling to better look at Trinket.
“Now we need to stir it.” He replied, “But I don’t have anything to stir with. . .”
The foal’s downtrodden statement was swiftly canceled out when a decently sized stick clattered to the ground beside’s them. Turing to see where the stick had came from, they found Grimoire, slouched against the maple tree’s trunk, casting them a sideways smirk.
“Thanks!” Trinket replied, grabbing up the stick in an instant.
“You’re welcome,” Grimoire replied drowsily, once again curling himself up amongst the soft grass.
Stick grasped firmly in his maw, Trinket thoroughly whisked the contents of the puddle, doing admittedly little more than jostling the water’s contents and bleeding of some of the petal’s color. Trinket however, seemed totally satisfied, dropping the stick in a nook of grass nearby and smiling contentedly.
“What do we do know?” Rosebug asked, settling in among the now dampened grass.
Trinket didn’t respond, instead he simply shrugged as he wiped a few muddied splotches from his pristine coat. Quirking a sly smirk, Rosebug dipped her hoof into the puddle, before flicking a few drops of water at the unsuspecting foal besides her. Staggering and sputtering slightly, the foal’s surprised expression quickly morphed into a matching, mischievous grin. In one abrupt motion, Trinket stomped both fore-hooves into the puddle, drenching both Rosebug and himself. The two held each other’s gaze for an awkward moment before they both began hysterically laughing.
Grimoire raised his head groggily, roused by the sudden increase in noise. Staggering to his hooves, he trudged over to the only other occupied part of the yard, and was all but baffled by what he found. Both Trinket and Rosebug were thoroughly drenched, dotted with leaves or dirt clumps that stuck to them strangely. Finally recovering from their shared laughing fit, they cast each other a quick, playful glance. Almost in unison, they flung the reaming traces of water at Grimoire, who was now fully awake and just as thoroughly wet as they were. Despite his initial look of reproaching displeasure, his demeanor quickly softened, and he too began giggling along a few moments later.
Chocolate Cheer had spent a tranquil, uneventful afternoon preparing lunch for the three foals under her care, making sure to cast the occasional glance out the nearby window to the backyard they were playing in. Having since finished with her lunch preparation, she popped her head out the backdoor to call them inside. It took her a long moment to find them, until she finally spotted the three huddled closely in a corner, laughing uproariously. Upon closer inspection, she could plainly tell they were all absolutely soaked, a thin layer of grim evenly coating Trinket and Grimoire’s fur and Rosebug’s chitin.
“What happened to you three?” Cheer asked, her voice simultaneously chiding and curious.
Trinket and Grimoire traded guilty and embarrassed glances, and Rosebug clawed nervously at the dirt with the tip of her hoof. Cheer’s expression softened as Rosebug finally worked up the nerve to respond.
“It’s a long story. . .”
A Rose by Any Other Name Would Look Just as Strange
Rosebug had admittedly been hesitant when Cheer first invited her to tag along on her weekly trip to the market. Though Rosebug had settled into life in Ponyville faster than even she‘d expected, she was still exceptionally hesitant to stray any farther than the orphanage’s front yard. Her nerves were soothed slightly when she learned Trinket and Grimoire would be tagging along as well, but she still wasn’t completely sold. Rosebug was finally swayed, however, when Cheer casually made note of a popular local flower shop as she rambled off the laundry list of businesses that comprised the Ponyville Market.
Though she was obviously excited at the prospect of anything to do with flowers, Rosebug’s trepidation was still obvious as they made their way down the dusty path that lead to the aforementioned market. Rosebug wasn’t alone in her trepidation though, as Trinket, who Rosebug has previously observed as being eternally upbeat and animated, grew noticeably more timid the further into Ponyville proper they ventured. Grimoire, while not sharing the other’s discomfort, was noticeably tired, his hooves kicking up plumes of dust as he begrudgingly dragged himself along. Rosebug’s apprehension all but vanished, replaced at least temporarily by excitement, when she first laid her eyes upon Ponyville market. A continues, double sided row of stalls stretched a far bit into the distant, a well worn dirt path falling squarely between them. Most of the stalls had at least some air of permanence to them, being sturdily constructed and, to at least some extent, decorated, but a few janky pop-up shops stood amongst them. The wooden based, colorfully canopied booths lined the currently overcrowded street, selling everything from fruit products to baked goods, and even some more niche items Rosebug couldn't make out from a distance. Even Trinket, who had long since taken to nervously huddling next to Cheer, and Grimoire, who was perpetually sleepy during the daytime, seemed to perk up once they laid eyes on the colossal collection of shops. Though their initial fear had subsided, the amount of ponies that filled the densely packed area brought about both new fear and some relief. Though the group was forced to huddle together lest they risk being separated in the jam-packed streets, the abundance of other ponies at the market actually made it easier for the less than conspicuous group to blend in, alleviating Rosebug’s anxiety somewhat. As Cheer worked through her decently long grocery list, the three foal’s began to fan out somewhat, having grown more comfortable with their immediate surroundings. Rosebug’s inhibitions were all but abandoned, though, when she saw the shop that had prompted her to even embark on this expedition, the flower shop.
Dozens of well crafted, freshly cut bouquets lined the stalls limited surface area. Though Rosebug’s imagination was initially captured by the vivid arrangements, her eyes soon wandered to an even more captivating sight. A small section of the stall’s counter space was dedicated to flower seeds, with various blooms planted in sample pots, each denoting the respective species of each seed. From golden petaled marigolds to sprigs of lavender, a veritable menagerie of flora was present on the small segment of counter. Among the almost innumerable types of foliage stood Rosebug’s most favorite flower, the one she shared her very name with, roses. As Rosebug gaped excitedly at the red petaled flower, the stalls shopkeeper, a yellow furred mare with a mane not dissimilar to Rosebug’s, returned from where she had been attending to stock moments earlier. Though at first she cast the hybrid a strange look, dusty green eyes clearly confused and conflicted, her look quickly softened as she watched the foal gaze enthusiastically at the shops contents.
“Can I help you?” She asked politely.
Though her tone was gentle, Rosebug was still noticeably startled, whirling up suddenly to look at the expectant mare. Rosebug held the mare’s gaze for an uncomfortably long moment before finally recovering her voice.
“How much are these?” Rosebug nudged the container of rose seeds with her muzzle.
“One bit per packet,” The shopkeeper replied helpfully.
It was at that precise moment that Rosebug realized a glaring flaw in her plans, despite having agreed to go to the market specifically to buy something from the flower shop, she didn’t have a single bit to her name. Thinking fast, she realized Cheer likely had a few spare bits on her, and hopefully wouldn’t be to against parting with one or two.
“I-I’ll be right back.” Rosebug responded meekly, backing away quickly into the turbulent crowd of ponies swarming the market.
As Rosebug stood among the swaths of ponies, she quickly realized, with sinking horror, that she had managed to completely separate herself from the others. After what felt like an eternity of staggering anxiously through the busied crowd, Rosebug finally managed to catch a gleam of something familiar. Engulfed among the congested walkway was the alabaster, stripe laden silhouette of Trinket, looking equally as lost, and even more distressed that he had been earlier. His face was instantly flooded with relief when he locked eyes with Rosebug, huddling up against her as he had previously down with Cheer.
“Do you know where Grimoire and Cheer are?” Rosebug questioned, raising her voice to be heard above the crowed.
Trinket shook his head in lieu of an answer, craning his neck to look across the overcrowded market. The foal's short statures made it so neither one could manage a good look at their surroundings. Wearily, Rosebug began fluttering her thin wings, managing to rise just high enough to see over the densely packed crowed. During her short bout of flight, she spied something amongst the visual static of over-saturated ponies. Stood checking out at a nearby stall was Cheer, accompanied by an ever familiar bat pony hybrid. Grimoire, who was slouched tiredly against the wooden side of the stall, had a look across his face only someone who was genuinely considering taking a nap in the middle of a market could accurately portray. Grimoire noticed the wayward foal’s before Cheer did, begrudgingly getting to his hooves and trotting towards them.
“Where did you two go?” Grimoire yawned.
Though Rosebug hadn’t the slightest idea of how Trinket had gotten separated, she all at once remember why she had bothered trudging her way back here. As Grimoire half- listened to Trinket’s side of the story, Rosebug began trekking towards Cheer. That was until she heard a jeering comment that couldn't have been meant for anyone else.
“Jeez Diamond Tiara, I heard there was a bug problem in Ponyville, but I didn’t realize it was this bad!” A grey-scale filly commented snidely to her friend.
Cringing, Rosebug swiveled around, finding two fillies sneering at them with half- concealed vitriol.
“And look at him , Silver Spoon!” Diamond Tiara leered at Trinket. “Doesn’t he know stripes are so last season.”
Rosebug stood, gritting her teeth in a fleeting attempt to keep herself from lashing out, as the bullies snickered to themselves. Her anger quickly dissolved into concern, though, when she felt Trinket huddle against her, sniffling quietly to himself. Upon realizing this, Rosebug gave the foal as reassuring a smile she could muster, taking a hesitant yet firm step forward to put herself between the bullies and Trinket. From the corner of her eye she spotted Grimoire ruffling his wings angrily, taking on as intimidating a stance his tired form could manage. Grimoire’s attempt seemed to only earn him the chagrin of the bullies, who swiftly turned their attention to him.
“Look at him!” Diamond Tiara giggled mockingly. “On top of being an absolute weirdo, he’s a blank flank !”
“How pathetic,” Silver Spoon agreed with faux pity.
Any fight Grimoire previously had all but vanished, leaving him slumped defeatedly as he cast a longing stare at his cutie mark-less flank. Rosebug was practically seething with rage, but no matter how much she compelled her body to move it simply refused, leaving her indignantly locked in place. Adding to that, Trinket was still firmly pressed against her side, leaning into her for support as he continued whimpering.
“What in tarnation is going on here?” A new voice inquired irritably.
All eyes fell upon the new figure, an orange furred mare with a golden, pulled back mane, as she adjusted her stetson hat and cleared her throat.
“What does it concern you, Applejack?” Silver Spoon spat meanly.
“Well,” Applejack began, “it would seem you two are making quite the uproar, and that don’t usually mean anything good.”
Diamond Tiara spluttered at the mare’s blunt response, before responding emphatically in turn.
“Are you trying to defend these freaks ?” She asked, her voice full of venom.
The filly’s words struck Rosebug like a kick in the teeth. She’d been called some horrible things in her life, but never so openly. Her suppressed anger soon began overflowing in the form of stingingly hot tears, as she felt Grimoire tuck a downy wing over the still sniffling colt at her side.
“And so what if I am?” Applejack answered back as evenly as she could muster.
Even from a distance, Rosebug could see the growing disgust in the older mare’s eyes as she bore witnessed to Diamond’s unrestrained prejudice. Diamond couldn’t even finish compose a response before Applejack continued.
“I’ve had it just about up to here with you two’s bad attitudes,” Applejack gestured indignantly. “If you don’t learn to mind your manners, I just might have to rescind the deals my family has with your father!”
She punctuated her statement with a stomp of her hoof as Diamond’s pink coat paled considerably.
“C-come on Silverspoon, we have better places to be,” She stuttered quickly, all but dragging off her shocked companion.
Rosebug couldn’t even muster up anything to say before another voice joined the conversation.
“Excuse me,” Cheer muttered as she made her way through the still overcrowded market
“Cheer?” Trinket said through lingering sobs, calling to his caretaker in a watery voice.
“Are you three okay?” She asked, her voice as relived as it was guilty.
As they all managed a responded, voices hoarse from tears and anger, the stetson wearing stranger chimed in.
“Are these here foals yours?” She asked simply.
“I’m their legal caretaker, so yeah.” Cheer responded, wiping a few tears from Trinket’s still damp cheeks.
After Cheer finished affirming that the foals were now mostly okay, she stepped away momentarily to talk with the orange furred mare.
“I can’t thank you enough for what you did,” Cheer said gratefully, “I really appreciate it miss. . .”
“Applejack,” She added, her southern draw now far more obvious “and it wasn’t any trouble really, those two are nothing but bullies, they need a good bit of perspective every once and a while.
“Thank you,” A meek voice answered in Cheer’s stead.
Rosebug has finally managed to reclaim her voice, and thought it only right to thank the mare that had came to her and her friend’s rescue. Trinket and Grimoire each voiced their own gratitudes, as Applejack cast them all a kindly smile and some reassuring words.
“Best of luck to y'all now,” Applejack called as she made her leave, returning to her nearby apple stand.
Cheer sighed, obviously fatigued, casting a guilty grin at her wards.
“I’m so sorry about all of this,” Cheer apologized genuinely, “you three shouldn’t have had to go through that.”
“It wasn’t your fault Cheer,” Grimoire comforted, his voice it’s usual sleepy cadence.
“Yeah, it was because of those meanies!” Trinket chimed in.
“Thanks you two,” Cheer responded wearily, “but I still feel pretty rotten about all this.”
Suddenly, Cheer’s grim expression morphed into a much happier grin
“How about I do something to make it up to you guys?” She asked, her voice tinged with excitement.
The ragtag group of ponies - and half ponies - trotted along the main pathway of the market, the over-packed space having begun to clear as the day wore on. Grimoire, as he usually did, fell slightly behind, his nocturnal instincts leaving him eternally tired during the daylight hours. Skewered onto his sharpened fangs was a bright red apple - which had coincidentally been bought from the very stand of the mare that had helped him earlier - which he happily sucked dry as he trotted along. Trinket, in direct contrast, headed the pack, traipsing along with a huge smile plastered across his face. Clutched in his maw was the wooden sticked end of the frozen treat Cheer had bought for him just moments earlier. Though these special treats couldn't erase the less that stellar experiences the foals had gone through that day, they did do a fair bit to raise their spirits. Soon though the final location on the group’s agenda came into view, a quaint flower stall ran by a mare Rosebug had learned was name Roseluck. The red headed mare greeted the group with a smile, instantly recognizing Rosebug.
“I’ll take it that your looking for these?” Roseluck asked goodheartedly.
She nudged a few packs of rose seeds onto the counter. Cheer cast a look to the filly at her side, who’s wide smile rivaled Trinket’s in size as she eyed the flora filled shop. Giggling quietly to herself, Cheer placed down a few jingling bits onto the counter.
“Pleasure doing business with you,” Roseluck said in a cheerful customer service voice.
As Rosebug seized her treasured seed packets and the group began turning away to venture home, Roseluck called out a final time to Rosebug.
“Best of luck with you’re gardening!” She called, casting the filly a bright smile.
Rosebug smiled back at her in return, practically radiating happiness, before waving her goodbye as she trotted off to catch up with the others.
