The barbershop was rather full for a Wednesday afternoon, but not so full that ponies were bumping into one another. Quiet chatter filled the room comfortably, as well as the steady sound of scissors snapping away at many a mane. Two stallions sat near the back, one seated on a tall stool that allowed him to see over the head of his much taller companion. His scissors, held in a pale aura, cut carefully at a lock of teal hair. A silence had fallen over the two, one that could even be considered contemplative, had it not been for the nature of these particular ponies.
"Hey, Snips?" A break in the silence.
"Yeah, Snails?"
"Do you ever wonder what your cutie mark means?"
"It means I cut your mane, Snails." A few strands fluttered to the floor as Snips' scissors, much like the ones that adorned his flank, moved to hover in front of Snails' face.
"Oh, right." A slow, dopey grin spread across Snails' face. While Snips had been clumsy in their youth, he was quite adept with a pair of scissors. Every few moons Snails would make his way to the Ponyville Salon where his friend worked to get his mane trimmed. Work kept Snips busy, whereas as Snails had rather copious amounts of free time. It was harder and harder to find time to hang out with Snips as they had when they were colts, and it became increasingly evident that it was simply because they weren't colts anymore. A concept Snails was reluctant to understand.
It was now that one could describe the silence as contemplative, at least around Snails, who stared pensively at himself in the mirror. "What do you think my cutie mark means?"
The rare note of thoughtfulness in Snails' voice flew right by Snips' head, resulting in the rather snippy response of a pony with a deadline.
"I think it means you're slow. I finished cutting your mane two minutes ago." Sure enough, as Snails glanced up at Snips in the mirror, he saw the scissors put away and his mane prim and tidy. "I have another customer after you, so I need to ring you up."
Into adulthood, Snips voice retained its high pitch. Even so, it did not lack the authority of a pony on the job. Snails stood from his seat and followed Snips to the desk where he pulled several bits from his pouch. Shaking his head, Snips pushed back half the bits.
"No, I gave you the right amount," Snails said, pushing the bits right back.
"Not today," Snips grinned and pulled half the bits into the register. "Discount. Your mane grows so slow I barely had to cut any off."
Snails' slow, sheepish smile returned and he pushed the remaining bits on the counter back into his pouch. "Thanks, Snips. See you soon."
Snips waved to him as he left the shop. Once on the street, Snails heaved a sigh. This is what it felt like a lot of time. He'd visit Snips in the shop and enjoy his company, be happy in the fact that he had secured a good job and was keeping himself busy. That he had a purpose. And then Snails was reminded that he didn't. What kind of talent was a snail anyway?
***
The meaning of his cutie mark rarely bothered him as it did now. Sure, he had thought about it every once and a while; what was his talent, what does it symbolize, who was he supposed to be? But he usually got over it pretty quickly. He had his best friend as a colt, and that was all he really needed, right?
Snails stopped and looked up from where his hooves scuffed the ground. Pure luck or fate, his legs had carried him to a small building with a rather long name running above the doors. Cutie Mark Crusaders Cutie Mark Counseling.
"Well howdy there!" Apple Bloom spun around in her chair at the sound of the bell tinkling above the doors. "What can we - oh! Hey, Snails! How are ya?"
At the sound of their old classmate's name, Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle emerged from a small room in the back. Ponyville was a small town, but even so Snails had not taken a good look at his old classmates in quite some time. They looked older and more sure of their place in the world, but had lost none of their energy. Their matching cutie marks were displayed proudly on their flanks. These were ponies who no doubt knew their purpose, and if anyone could help Snails find his, it would be them.
"Uh . . . hey, guys. I . . ." Snails struggled for the right words, feeling suddenly embarrassed, fortunately Sweetie Belle cut in with a practiced professionalism.
"Why don't you have a seat, Snails?" She gestured to a collection of cushions on the floor where Snails followed the three mares.
"What's up?" Scootaloo opened. "Just dropping by or got a cutie mark question for us? I'm sure our reputation precedes us, but there's nothing we can't handle!" She puffed her chest proudly.
"Alright, Scoots. We're not here to boast, now." Sweetie Belle chided with a smile.
A silence enveloped the room and Snails felt it was his time to speak. "What does my cutie mark mean?"
"What does it mean to you?" Scootaloo immediately countered.
"Wh - that's not an answer! You just said you can handle anything!"
Scootaloo shrugged. "We can't tell you what it means because we don't know. We don't have a cutie mark encyclopedia, we help people find their purpose and understand their cutie marks for themselves."
"What does it make you think of, Snails?" Apple Bloom asked.
He glanced at his flank. "A snail," he said dumbly.
"Alright, how about this, do you remember how you got it?"
"I was walking with Snips one day and he kept wanting to hurry ahead, but I was looking at the trees. They were so pretty." Snails smiled. It had been a nice day. "There were birds and bees and everything everywhere. Somepony walked by and saw me looking at all the little bushes and stuff and said, 'You sure do take it slow, huh?' And then Snips noticed I got my cutie mark." Snails shrugged indifferently. "I didn't really care."
"So you enjoy life," said Scootaloo.
"Sure, but that's not a talent. And it has nothing to do with a snail," said Snails.
"Cutie marks aren't always literal, they're just symbols for who you are. You know my sister Rarity, right?" Sweetie Belle continued with a nod of Snails' head. "Her cutie mark is three diamonds, but she has barely anything to do with diamonds. In fact, they're one of her least favorite gems, she never uses them in her designs." She affected an accent reminiscent of her sister's. "'Not all they're cracked up to be, those diamonds.'"
"She's sophisticated like a diamond, sure, but she's more than that. Cutie marks don't define you. You define yourself," added Apple Bloom while Scootaloo nodded sagely beside her.
"We've known you a long time, Snails. We've seen you take it slow, and it's a good thing, it means you get to enjoy life. You and Snips got into all sorts of trouble way back when and you never got down about it or quit. You're resilient, kind of like a snail! They're slow, but have you ever seen one stop?"
"So . . . I am a snail?"
"No, you're Snails," said Apple Bloom simply. As if reading one another's mind, all three of the Crusaders leaned in conspiratorially as Apple Bloom continued . "And we'll let you in on a secret. Cutie marks don't give you purpose, they just guide you to it. You're nothing you don't want to be."
***
Snails heart sank a little as he left the Crusaders. He had been hoping for a direct answer, but even he knew that would be a stretch. No one can tell you who you're meant to be.
At that moment, a small snail caught the stallion's attention, crawling over the ground beneath a bush. Snails crouched to watch it. Resilient. He broke off a small twig and placed it in front of the snail. In about ten seconds it had cross straight over the twig with no hesitation. Snails placed another one. The snail cross it with no problem. The snail didn't give up, even as the sticks became larger. It just took a little longer. It wasn't a quitter, and neither was Snails.
He stood up and inhaled the sweet Ponyville air. Today is a good day to admire the scenery.
Author's Note
Constructive criticism is always appreciated! Especially on characterization haha.
