Animal Crack Box

by Honeycomb

Rating: everyone
Tags: Slice of Life, Random
Length: 3446

Short moralistic one-shots, each written in a day or two.

One-shots written in a day or two each. Expect a generous dose of heavy-handed moralism. Themes of sudden enlightenment will probably recur. And I'm partial to OCs, so there's that, too.

I'm mainly doing this to get used to thinking of writing as a fun activity rather than a chore.

Published 1970-01-01 00:00:00 UTC
Last updated 2013-02-15 06:40:02 UTC

You Can Count On Me

You Can Count On Me

[slice of life]

* * *

"Much obliged, madam."

"No problem a-tall, Mister. We Apples always keep an eye out for fellas down on their luck. Just show up bright and early tomorrow morning down on the farm, and we'll find somethin' for you to do, okay?"

With a wink and a smile, Applejack turned from the unshaven stallion and resumed her gait, with bouncing baskets on her back. Apple Bloom, who had been struck dumb during the conversation, finally found words as the two of them trotted out of earshot of the stranger.

"Applejack, why'd you hire that fella to work for us at the farm? He didn't seem like he could stand up straight long enough to buck an apple tree. Didn't you smell the salt on his breath?"

At this, Applejack's ears perked up. "Now, Apple Bloom—"

"And did you get a load of those fancy city clothes he had on? I doubt if he's ever been on a farm in his life. He probably wouldn't know a rooster from a rattlesnake."

Applejack remained silent.

"Well?"

Wind rustled the trees of the forest which was their destination. Presently they were on the outskirts of Ponyville. The day had been warm, but the night was fast approaching, and the twilight brought with it a stillness that gave the impression of clarity. There was no chill in the air. As Applejack turned to speak, the two of them were still trotting at a fine pace: it was a fine day for a trot, even if they had not been out on business.

"Sugar, it's... it's about trust. There's a certain amount of trust that ponies owe one another, and that's not depending on whether someone's dressed up in fine fancy clothes or salted up down in the gutter. I reckon that fella was in the shape he was in because no one trusted him with anything worth having, so I'm just giving him what he needs and deserves." Applejack said this with a certain naive finality and returned her focus to the road.

It was not to be. "But... what? Applejack, that doesn't make any sense. How can somepony owe trust to somepony else? If you want trust, you have to earn trust. And he's not trustworthy, and you know that. What'll you do when he shows up and can't do any work? Or if he doesn't show up at all?"

"If he doesn't show up, he won't get paid—"

"And what makes you think that once you pay him for not doing any work, he won't go running straight back to the saloon with it, instead of finding a place to sleep and get a bath?"

Applejack stopped trotting and gave a frown. The wind gave a sudden gust. "You're awful hard-boiled for somepony so little."

"I ain't little! I..." Apple Bloom paused, being interrupted by the gust of wind, which snatched her red hair-bow off her head. In a startled, reflexive act, she dropped her baskets and scrambled after it, but the gust proved too strong, and before long the hair-bow was gone for good.

A silent moment passed. Above, the night's first stars night began unveiling themselves opposite the blood-orange, blackberry-stained sunset. Below, bees were tending to the flowers and to the weeds which look like flowers. Apple Bloom turned her eyes down to the dirt, with her mane in her face and an indistinct sense of unease in her heart, before her elder carefully began to speak.

"Listen here. What a pony needs more than anything is to be able to do a good turn for his fellow. That's what makes his life full up, don't you see? That makes it all worth his while. But he has to have some kind of power first. When you trust someone, you're giving 'em a kind of power over you, and that's power to do you right and it's power to do you wrong."

Applejack paused, with bated breath, until she saw that she had her sister's attention. She smiled, exhaled, and continued:

"When you trust someone to do right by you, you're giving them a chance to do right, and that means giving them a chance to get what's most valuable to them. And it's true that maybe they'll do you wrong instead of right, and you'll lose something for it, or maybe they just won't gain anything. But you won't lose what's most important, because by giving 'em your trust, you did right by them, and that means your own life will be full up."

At this, Apple Bloom fell into thoughtful silence, and the two of them resumed their trot, carrying their baskets towards the wild Everfree. Applejack evidently mistook her sister's silence for something other than thoughtfulness, for she added:

"And don't you worry about that hair-bow none. You've got plenty of those back at the farm—it won't hurt you to go out this once without one."

Apple Bloom laughed. "I'm not worried about that, sis. Though I do look a mess."

"Good. We're almost there, now. Be sure to keep those baskets balanced."

"Yes, sis."

The sound of their trotting hooves soon filled the air in the conversation. The wind died down and the crickets began to sing as nighttime fell over the forest. It might have been the occasion of some fear, but each of them had made the trip many times before, and this time they were planning to pass the night comfortably together at their destination before returning home. It was a business trip, but it was also a vacation.

"So... Applejack. These leaves we're taking to Zecora's. You said they had special healing properties?"

* * *

Who Could Win A Rabbit

The Softest Voice

The Softest Voice

[Adventure]

* * *

When Twilight Sparkle awoke one morning, she was determined to find the Star of Winterdreams.

"The Star of Winterdreams? What's that?"

"I don't know, Spike. But I saw it last night while I was sleeping, and I'm convinced that I have to find it."

Spike scratched his head. "You saw it... while you were sleeping? Twilight, do you mean you saw it in a dream?"

Twilight was already packing her bags when she responded. "Well, yes. But, Spike, it was just too real to be only an ordinary dream. I know it sounds silly, but I'm convinced it wasn't just a dream—it was something more. A message of some sort, or a premonition."

"So... you're going to leave and go after it?"

"I'm sorry, Spike, but I have to. I..." Twilight stopped, and gave a pleading look. "Ohhh, how can I explain it? I can feel the star's magic in my heart. It's calling out to me, I just know it. I don't think I have a choice in the matter—I have to find it."

Spike didn't try to hide his disappointment. "Do you at least know when you'll be back?"

"I'm sorry, Spike, but I don't. It's not something that anyone can know ahead of time. Just... take care of the library while I'm gone, okay?" Twilight gave a bittersweet smile, and shared a hug with her confidant. "Promise me..."

Spike laughed away his tears. "Of course, Twilight. I'll take care of the library."

"I knew you would. I love you, Spike. I promise I'll come back as soon as I can."

With that, she stepped out the door into the darkness that precedes dawn, and was gone.

* * *

Twilight followed her heart, and by nightfall it had brought her to a cave at the base of a mountain. She made a fire, ate her dinner, and prepared to retire for the night.

I wonder what the Star of Winterdreams is like.

She laid down and listened to the trees as they were blown upon by the outside wind, the footfalls of creatures on the forest floor, and the crackling of the firewood beside her.

It must be an extraordinarily powerful magical entity. After all, it brought me here. Who knows what untold strength it can harness—ooaaaah, I can sense it again! It must be near...

It was then that the wind began gaining speed. First, the trees started swaying. Then, the sound of a branch snapping caught Twilight's attention. Turning from her thoughts, she gazed out the mouth of her cave and was silently impressed as the wind began to pick up small sticks and rocks from the ground. A thread of anxiety curled itself around her heart; the trees were no longer swaying, but struggling.

Meanwhile, the sound of the wind echoed ever louder in the cave, until she could even feel the chilling wind on her own skin from where she was lying. As a tree fell outside, her jaw fell with it. A sudden gust of unusual force extinguished her campfire in one breath; at this, she became frightened, and retreated in a huddle to the far wall of the cave.

What is this? Is it some freak of nature? Is it... could it be...?

Twilight struggled for an explanation. But as quickly as it came, the wind departed: the trees stopped shaking, the cave stopped echoing, and Twilight was left in a stunned silence at this new and inexplicable turn of events.

That... that was not natural.

The Star of Winterdreams was on her mind. Could it have done all that? But why? To prove its power? I don't understand...

Twilight sat in silent wonder, her fire extinguished, until a new stimulus presented itself to her senses: the ground began to shake.

Some stalactites fell, and Twilight guessed that a cave was not a safe place to be during an earthquake. She abandoned her things and hurried stumbling out. The vibrations were intense. As if by design, Twilight's cave residence collapsed in on itself no sooner than she had come out of it. The sound of the mountain shaking was fearsome, and Twilight realized she was not safe yet; a rockslide could occur. She ran away from the mountain as fast as her unicorn legs would carry her, downhill, into a denser part of the forest.

Why is this happening?! Is it just a coincidence? Or—is the Star of Winterdreams angry with me? I did what it asked, I came out here just because it called me... And I don't even know what it is or if it's a real thing! So why, why is it...

Twilight never finished her thought, because a bolt of lightning touched down on a tree that was only feet away from her. The season being winter, the tree's leaves were dry, and it easily caught fire. Twilight watched in horror as the fire began to spread. She broke out into a gallop downhill, towards the valley; in her panic, she failed to notice that the ground had stopped shaking.

The fire was spreading quickly, and as it gained in size, its radiant heat grew proportionally intense. It seemed to Twilight that the fire was popping up all around her, in places it shouldn't have been able to spread to yet. She dodged and evaded the flames, but despite all her efforts, they continued pressing closer in on her.

What did I do to deserve this?!

Twilight stopped running, and looked around. She saw a wall of flames in every direction. As she looked around, again and again, her heart sunk: there was no escape. The Star of Winterdreams had lured her out here with a false promise, and now it was punishing her for something she didn't know she had done.

Already sweating and wincing from the radiant heat of the fire, Twilight was about to give up hope when something caught her eye: a reflection of the night sky on the ground. She sprinted towards it, and screamed out loud when she realized what it was, and that she had been overlooking it. She dived in headfirst, and allowed herself to be completely submerged; the sensation of the cold water on her skin was more welcome than any she had felt in a long time.

As she resurfaced, she looked around to see which way she needed to swim to escape the fire. But to her great surprise, there was no fire. Nor were there any signs of a fire; the forest foliage was unscathed and the air was free from the sight and smell of smoke.

Twilight was staggered. She had no words or even thoughts as she calmly climbed out of the water. She dumbly took in her surroundings over and over, each time finding nothing to indicate that there had ever been a fire. Looking down in defeat, she saw the reflection of the night sky again, and stared at it for what seemed like hours.

It was beautiful.

* * *

The Softest Voice

Who Could Win A Rabbit

Who Could Win A Rabbit

[slice of life]

* * *

It was a hot, clear day out on the Godwin Galloper Memorial Racetrack when Turtledove entered her school's track team tryouts. She was not particularly well-built, nor did she have much experience with athletics, but it was a mark of prestige to join 'Galloper's Gallopers', as the team was styled, and Turtledove knew that in sports as in life, hard work and commitment were more important than raw talent. Her parents knew the value of hard work and commitment, and they had raised her to share their appreciation for it. She was convinced that if she only gave it her best effort, the tryouts would not be a waste of time even if she failed to make the team. After all, no one could win every race, but everyone could always give their best.

The current event, the five-furlong dash, was wrapping up. The ten-furlong run would be held next, and that was the event that interested Turtledove. As she made her way toward the place on the track where the starting line for her race would be, she watched the five-furlong runners make their last half lap. Nine sprinting runners circled the final curve; one, a tall lean colt, entered and emerged far ahead of the rest. He finished the race several lengths ahead of the straggling group, and as he turned to face a coach after crossing the finish line, Turtledove saw with a shock that he was hardly out of breath.

With a grin that looked like a grave, the coach spoke to the colt. "One-oh-three eight, Hare. Ready to run the ten now?"

The colt named Hare responded with a bit of a swagger. "What's that? Am I ready to win the ten now? You know it."

Poor Turtledove was stunned. As the coaches' assistants hustled the ten-furlong racers to their starting line, Turtledove ambled passively along, lost in wonder. What an athlete this colt named Hare was! Not thirty seconds ago he had won a sprinting race against eight other competitors, recording a time worthy of a competitor in the Equestria Games—and here he was lining up to run again!

The sun was hot, and the sensation of its heat had a hypnotic effect. As more runners lined up and the reality of the race set in on her, Turtledove reminded herself that hard work and commitment were more important than raw talent. She set her mind on the race and renewed her personal promise to finish it running, no matter what else happened.

She wondered whether the colt named Hare would win this race too.

An assistant blew a whistle, and the race began. Despite starting at a faster pace than she was comfortable with, Turtledove quickly fell to the back. Five runners passed her, then seven; before long she was running dead last. She found energy for a burst of speed once she realized there was no one left behind her, but it was quickly spent, and her pace continued to slow.

As she slowed, pain began to creep up into her legs, drawing her attention. Prior to the race, she had expected pain and looked forward to it as a chance to prove her mettle. No great pony had ever become great without patiently enduring a lot of pain and continuing to do their work despite the pain. But out there, as she watched her legs crash again and again into the hard track and felt her untested joints absorb the shock, she discovered that pain is a different thing when it is actually causing you pain than it is when you are just imagining it. It then crossed her mind that, other things being equal, she would rather not endure more pain in her life than she had to.

Setting aside the pain for a moment and looking up, she saw that she was only falling more and more behind. She was even further behind the other runners than the slowest of those runners was behind the fastest of them. It was then that Turtledove realized the humiliating position she was in. She thought of her parents, who had advised her not to attend the day's tryouts. It was possible they had anticipated this happening, and tried to shelter her from it. Well, it was too late now. There was no getting around the humiliation. The assistants with the clipboards saw her, and the coaches with the stopwatches saw her, and soon the other competitors would see her, and they would judge her for her inability, and there was no helping it. It was even a matter of indifference whether she finished the race at all, or stopped where she was and walked straight off the track; their judgment would be the same either way.

As she entered a curve in the track, alone, Turtledove dwelled on that last thought. The idea of stopping and walking off tempted her. Walking off would at least save her the humiliation of dealing with the others; it would also spare her legs, which were aching already. No one would care if she left, for she wasn't in a class—the school's track team was an extracurricular activity. And no one would stop her from leaving on the team's account. It was clear she wasn't going to make the cut.

As she contemplated quitting, Turtledove's gaze fell back to her legs. She stared at them as they worked, as if wondering whether they would suddenly stop. But they kept moving.

And they kept moving.

And, eventually, Turtledove noticed another thing: the curve in the track had straightened out. Looking up, she saw that the finish line was in sight.

At this, her heart leaped, and she cast away the idea of quitting the race as if it were a tarantula that had landed on her face. She scolded herself for so easily forgetting her promise. Even the realization that there were no other runners left on the track did not discourage her, for she knew she would have the reward of hard work and commitment. No one could win every race, but everyone could always give their best.

Turtledove approached the finish line at the best clip she could manage. She caught sight of a group of athletes resting on the stands, and noticed that the colt named Hare was with them. It looked like they were telling jokes and having fun. Turtledove guessed from their behavior that the colt named Hare had won this race, too. She admired him. As she crossed the finish line, she felt a wave of happiness wash over her. It was happiness that there were many ponies in the world like him: ponies who could run races much more easily than she could, and other ponies who could easily do many other things that she was no good at. Because there were many different kinds of ponies to share the burdens of life in different ways, it meant everyone was more free to be themselves. She was very grateful for that, because it made the world a beautiful place.

Exhausted, Turtledove slowly made her way toward the athletes on the stands. She wanted to congratulate the colt named Hare on his impressive wins. But she never made it to the stands, because a shout from the colt she was going to congratulate stopped her in her tracks:

"Great run, fatty! We'll win state for sure with you on the team."

Turtledove blanked and stood still, staring back at the face of the gifted colt who had just said such a thing. After a moment, she turned without saying anything and walked straight home.

She realized, more than ever, that no one could win every race.

* * *