"Can we send it?"
"Oh, I think it's our duty."
Sunny Starscout beamed happily. The rose-maned filly carried the small hoof-drawn picture with her, as Daddy led the way out onto the balcony. He picked up the paper lantern he'd made to help celebrate her birthday, then carefully attached the picture to it: an earth pony, a pegasus, and a unicorn all enjoying a picnic together, with rainbows and stars around them. Beneath that was the message:
You have friends in Maretime Bay. Come visit us!
Sunny watched in eager anticipation as Daddy lit the lantern. Then together they watched it gently lift off and sail away into the evening sky. It shrank into the distance, and soon was little more than a tiny glowing star, a small beacon of hope in a vast darkness, like a fading memory...
Argyle hugged his little filly gently. The impromptu birthday party hadn't gone quite as he'd hoped, so he was grateful to be able to end the day on such a warm note. He was proud of how resilient and optimistic Sunny was, and wanted to help her hold onto that, as long as possible.
She'd need that, one day soon.
"Can you tell me the story, Daddy?"
"Again?" he teased her.
"Pleeeeease?"
He smiled and nodded, happy to oblige. It was important for her to remember it, after all.
"Once upon a time... many many moons ago, in ancient Equestria..."
High overhead, the lantern drifted far away, across rolling hillsides and thick forests. Eventually its light went out, and it descended slowly earthward. It finally came to rest in the top of a tree on a hilltop, far from any pony settlement. There it stuck tight, still holding its small hoof-drawn note. It was lodged in the very topmost branches, where no pony passing by would ever have seen it.
And that might have been the end of things.
Except that this was a very particular, very special tree...
... who remembered...
The shadowy metal air vent rang with the sound of small hooves. The vents were dusty, and smelled of mold and rancid fuel, but Zipp didn't mind. The ivory-white pegasus filly liked nothing better than exploring. She loved discovering new places in and around the Grand Palace of the Pegasi, places that nopony else knew about. Which meant they were hers, by right of conquest. Finders keepers, after all.
Mother of course said it was dangerous. The Queen gave Zipp all kinds of more-in-sorrow grief whenever Zipp came back, covered in lint and with her normally pristine coat smudged with grease and dirt.
Zipp didn't care. This was freedom. This was doing something, learning things. Not pretending, not lying to everypony, making believe the royal family were the only ones who could still fly. That was wrong. Zipp knew it was. And she wanted a way out.
She'd found a new turnoff in the tunnels, one that took her deeper than before, and she trotted along the metal passage eagerly, glancing left and right, making sure to watch where she was going so she wouldn't get lost.
Which is why she didn't see the loose grating in time. She trod on it, felt it pivot underneath her. Before she could even recover she'd tumbled through it... straight into empty air.
Snapping out her wings, Zipp swung into a smooth glide. She arced back and forth as she descended, trying to figure out where the hay she was now.
It was some kind of huge hall, she saw, much like the grand, gilded Audience Hall upstairs in the Palace. But this place was different. It was old and abandoned for one thing, the walls dingy with dust and grime. Plus, it was more like a station, a waiting area of some kind, for ponies travelling somewhere. But where?
As Zipp came to a soft landing on the marble floor, she noticed old signboards hanging on the walls: they were travel posters, bearing names of far-off and mysterious-sounding places, like Bridlewood and Maretime Bay. And having ponies on them of types she hadn't seen before. Outside of history lessons, anyways.
"Woah..."
She trotted wide-eyed towards the end of the hall, where there was a set of floor-to-ceiling stained-glass panels. They were fractured and had several segments missing, including the entire middle lower panel. Through the gap, she could see sunlit sky beyond.
Zipp stepped carefully through the opening, and stood looking out on a platform. It had a set of stairs at its far edge, leading to... nowhere. Just open sky. As if something would have come to a stop here. Something that would take her away, off into the distance, to a land where things were different.
Where lies were not needed...
Yes, Zipp told herself. She breathed in the chill, refreshing air. This was what she'd been hunting around in the tunnels for. A place of her own, where she could get away from Court, away from the lies. And maybe, just maybe, figure out how to get away from here altogether. To launch off into the blue skies and sail away to distant lands, where she could find the strange ponies on those posters, and live the kind of life she knew she should be living.
That was right. She could just feel it.
But it was going to take work, she knew. And in the meantime she had to figure out how to get back up to the air vents so she could get out again. Or she'd be stuck down here, forced to wait until somepony figured out where she'd gone and came looking for her. Came, and dragged her back upstairs, then locked this place away forever.
Too dangerous, my darling. It's for your own good.
Zipp snorted angrily. Feathers to that! She'd find her own way out.
Wandering back through the doors, she looked around, exploring the hall. And quickly noticed, set right in the middle of the floor, a huge fan. It looked kind of dangerous, out there in the open where anypony could step on it. But maybe there was a reason? Maybe it had once been used to inflate something, like a balloon?
There was a hoof-lever beside the fan. Never one to worry about the risk, Zipp put her forehooves on it and shoved it down hard.
With a creak, a scrape, and then a roar, the fan juddered to life, spinning faster and faster. Feeling the rushing updraft the fan was creating, Zipp spread her wings almost instinctively, and leaped...
And she was flying, on the air current, soaring up towards the ceiling of the ancient hall. It was unbelievable. It was the most wonderful feeling in the entire world. She never wanted it to end. She banked back and forth, riding the rough updraft easily, as if she'd been born for it.
The fan wound down, the air-flow stopped. Zipp quickly went into a spiraling glide, and landed back on her hooves on the marble floor next to the hoof-switch.
She wanted more. She wanted to do that again.
So she did.
Hooves on lever, shove, spead wings, leap...
This time, when the fan began winding down she didn't wait. She set out in a long, slow glide, down the length of the hall, towards the signboard at its far end. It was almost as good as riding the updraft. It almost felt like she was actually flying on her own.
Then she noticed a kind of basket-like platform, attached to ropes that led to pulleys affixed to the ceiling at that end of the hall. It was pretty high up, but Zipp thought she could still make it. She carefully paid off height for speed, arrowing towards it. For a heart-pounding moment she was sure she would come in too low and crash right into it. Then with a quick swoop, her forehooves caught the wicker rim and she scrambled up into it.
Ha, she thought. We've got this. We know what we're doing.
There was a hoof-lever here as well, connected to the pulley system. Zipp unhesitatingly pushed it, with a feeling of confident pride.
And found herself heading steadily downwards. The basket came to a halt on the floor of the hall, and stopped. Zipp frowned at it, as if it had personally insulted her.
"C'mon, you," she scolded. "Get it right, huh?"
She smacked the lever again. And was rewarded by the basket steadily rising upwards this time, towards the ceiling. Where she saw another air-vent grating, which looked like it could slide open.
Yeah... Zipp thought. It all starts now. I'm gettin' outta here, in more ways than one.
And nothing would stop her. She'd see to that.
"Which do you think is better, Nana?"
The yellow-coated, pepper-maned unicorn smiled down at her lavender, blue-maned filly. And at the two garish artworks held in her small hooves, being presented for judging.
"Oh, I like them both, dear."
"Nana! That is like, the most unhelpfullest answer in the entire world."
"Forest, Izzy," Nana warned gently. "That's what ponies say here."
"Right, sorry. Forest." The filly nodded. "But you didn't answer my question."
"Then ask me one I can answer. Be specific."
"Um. Hmm." Izzy's eyes narrowed. "Which do you consider the more appropriate medium for conveying the deep-seated angst of youth contrasted against the insular folly of old age? Macaroni or spaghetti?"
Nana didn't even blink. "Oh, spaghetti, obviously."
"Huh?" The blue-maned filly looked puzzled.
"Try eating spaghetti when all you have is a spoon, dearest."
"Oh! I see!" Izzy beamed. And then dropped the pictures on her playtable and darted over to the recycle bin, to rummage energetically for more raw material to work with.
"Why don't you go outside for a while," Nana suggested. "You've been bouncing off the walls this morning. More than usual, I mean."
"Okay!" Izzy quickly galloped over to the door, hauled it open...
... and turned to smile. She never forgot.
"I love you, Nana!"
"Love you too, Moon Pie," Nana replied fondly.
"Bye!"
The door slammed. And Nana shook her head, with a mixture of fondness and worry on her face. Izzy was definitely still a colony unicorn, the last generation to remember what life was like outside of Bridlewood. Colorful, cheerful, a bundle of energy, and sharp as a startled porcupine. Nana wanted to help her hold onto that, as long as possible.
It was going to be hard, though. The forest unicorns... for some reason they'd reacted to the loss of magic by going all-in on cynical ennui and stylized indifference. It wasn't wrong, per se, but it bothered her. It felt like giving up. And she'd never liked giving up.
Even when there was nothing else that could be done.
Nana sighed. If only Poster Paint hadn't lost that crystal in a silly bar-bet. And then run off in a fit of shamed pique, disappearing utterly. One more pony whom nopony had ever heard of, as the last vestiges of magic faded -- and with it, ponies strongly connected to the old magic.
Someday, somepony was going to have to win back the crystal from that know-it-all faker, Alphabittle. And then show ponies here a better way. Izzy might just be able to do it. But it meant getting out there, meeting the other forest unicorns, learning how they thought here. And in the process, not becoming as cynically fatalistic as they were.
Resignedly, Nana moved to pick up and organize the latest artworks of her rambunctious little filly. She was really going to have to teach Izzy to pick up after herself, one of these days.
After all, Izzy would need to, soon enough...
Outside in the Forest, Izzy trotted along beneath gnarled oaks and beeches, following the hoofpath that zigzagged from crystal to crystal amidst the dappled shadows. She hummed merrily to herself as her gaze darted around, perpetually on the lookout for something new, something interesting.
She came to a taller instance of the blue crystals that served as de-facto landmarks and signposts in the Forest.
It appeared to be ticking. Tic-tic, tic-tic, it went, irregularly and metallically.
Intrigued, Izzy wandered right up to it, put her hooves and snout against it, and peered into its depths, trying to figure out where the ticking was coming from.
A distorted face with widely staring eyes suddenly loomed up out of the blue depths. "Uh, hi?"
Izzy blinked, then grinned. "Hi, Prench! Whatcha doing?"
A brown, curly-haired colt wearing a beret edged around from behind the crystal, a small hammer in one hoof.
"Tapping?" he said sheepishly.
Izzy smiled at that. Prench Toast would say his own name as a question.
"Oooh! Are you trying to teach the crystals to tap back?" Izzy grinned. "Because if you did, then maybe you could teach every one of them to tap a different way. That way, you'd know every crystal in the Forest by the sound it makes. Then ponies could walk around the Forest blindfolded! Not that we would normally. But ya know, it'd be useful in a pinch. Like if it was one of those really spooky foggy mornings, huh?"
Prench blinked wordlessly. This was most ponies' reaction to Izzy's oncoming freight-train of thought.
"Uh, right," he finally said. It was usually the safest response.
"You wanna help me find some leaves?" Izzy asked.
"But... we're in a forest?" Prench pointed out.
"Yeah, but Nana says no two leaves in the Forest are exactly the same. I'm not sure about that. So I'm gonna see if I can find two leaves that are."
"Seriously?"
Izzy shrugged. "Eh, it gets me outta the house. And it's something to do while I figure out why Nana said I should play outside for a bit. She usually has some kinda reason, but it takes a while to find it. C'mon!"
With a carefree laugh, Izzy bounded away along the path. And almost immediately slammed to a halt, to focus on a caterpillar crawling up a branch. She stared at it intently, as if it was somehow suddenly the most important thing in the entire Forest, and she just had to figure it out. It was the same way she reacted to just about anything new that came her way.
Prench Toast glanced at his hammer. Then he shrugged, tucked it safely on his toolbelt, and trotted along after Izzy -- that is, once she'd unstuck herself from the caterpillar and got going again.
He'd never admit it to anypony, but he liked hanging out with Izzy. Other fillies and colts said she was weird. That her parents were colony ponies, after all, who didn't know how to behave normally. And didn't believe in the important things -- like the jinxies. Prench wasn't even sure if he and Izzy were friends, precisely. They just ran into each other sometimes and hung out together, whenever Izzy was out and about.
But she was just about the only pony in the Forest who thought anything like he did. A pony who was curious about stuff, liked exploring, and asked questions nopony had an easy answer to. And she never, ever gave up. That was the thing Prench liked most. She never gave in to self-doubt. She always had a smile and a laugh and an upside-down way of looking at things, which made ponies roll their eyes even as they found themselves smiling, without being quite sure why.
Prench liked Izzy precisely because she didn't fit in, and wasn't bothered by it at all. She simply created a space where she was already exactly the kind of pony she should be. And then welcomed in anypony else who wanted in.
He liked Izzy because she wasn't a Forest pony.
She was herself.
And currently, she was staring up into a tree, wide-eyed.
"Hey, Prench!" she said. "I think I see a couple leaves up there that might be the same! C'mon, I'll race you to the top. Last one there is an earth pony!" She all but ran straight up the gnarled trunk, her hooves finding rough spots and knots and branches with effortless ease, like a purple-coated squirrel.
Prench sighed. Somehow he knew he'd wind up the earth pony. Again.
But he had to admit, it was worth it sometimes. Just to see where Izzy led him...
Moons passed.
In the airship departure hall below the Palace, Zipp stood at the chalkboard she'd set up, frowning and grinding her teeth. She'd absorbed every last fact and equation in both physics and aerodynamics that the bemused royal tutors could offer her. She'd sketched, and calculated, and theorized. She'd made herself into an expert on this stuff.
And found in the end, that nothing worked.
She'd tried different gliding and swooping techniques. Tried building wing extensions to increase her range. Even gave crystal therapy a go, just to prove to herself it wasn't real magic, just hoky pseudoscience, like her initial hunch told her.
"Without magic," she whispered to herself, "real magic, it's just not possible. There's no way we pegasi can generate enough lift. Not even if we could flap our wings as fast as a hummingbird." She smirked at the image. "And no, Zephyrina, slamming energy drinks is not the answer here. No matter how sharp they make you feel."
She turned and trotted out to the landing balcony. And stared up and around helplessly.
"Pipp would say I'm not being bold enough," she muttered. "She always says live your dream. Except her dream is making everypony in the city feel happy and loved, so they follow and plus-hoof her." Zipp snorted. "Maybe she should be the Crown Princess instead of me. After all, she's got the whole cult-of-personality thing down pat."
She could always just go for it, Zipp knew. Just leap off the edge, put out her wings and glide. Outward and downward through the clouds, as far as she could get on nothing but a wing and a lift/drag equation. But then she'd be unable to get back, except on hoof. Bounding up the mountain like some kind of goat. And as stylish as she could make that look, with what she'd taught herself about gymnastics and parkour, it still wasn't enough. It was lame, embarrassing. She was a pegasus, for hoof's sake!
Poised at the edge, tempted as always by the vision of wide-open skies and fluffy soft clouds... Zipp still hesitated.
If I leave, she thought, who's gonna keep Pipp from just vanishing into that phone of hers? Getting so swept up in her public persona that she forgets there once was a really sweet little sister buried under it all someplace? And who's gonna remind pegasi that there's a world outside this city? Who's gonna keep us searching for magic, for a way to bring it back?
Who's going to show us how to fly again?
Zipp shook her head. She couldn't just leave. Not without knowing where she was headed. Without a destination, a goal in mind, someplace other than Zephyr Heights to shoot for, trudging back up here was all she had to look forward to.
If I just knew for certain, she thought, that there was someplace I could get to. Some place where there'd be ponies, like those on the travel posters. Who could help me to find our magic and bring it back...
Ponies who would be my friends...
Izzy pushed the broom back and forth, humming to herself as she cleaned up the woodchips and flakes of dried paint from the floor of her house.
And glanced every now and then at her piece-de-resistance, sitting in the middle of the room. It looked very much like a sculpture of a large rosebud, set on a green metal rolling cart base. Aha, Izzy thought mysteriously, that just makes the surprise so much better, when you flip it open, and the teapot and all the little teacups appear...
She needed somepony to help her try it out. There was nopony else in the house, so she was going to have to go out and find some other ponies. But who to ask? She really needed a friend for this.
And then she knew. Yes. It would be the perfect way to break the ice again. Maybe find out what it was that had made them drift apart.
She raced to the door, hauled it open...
And turned to stare at the empty house. Whenever she left, it always felt like she was missing something. Or somepony...
Shrugging, she waved to the house in general, just to be safe. "Bye!"
And slammed the door behind her.
She galloped along the paths through the Forest, heading for its center, and a particular house amongst the many others set in and around the bases of trees. A large, dome-shaped house, all but hidden beneath leafy ivy.
Crystal Tea Room, the sign outside said.
Izzy paused, nervous. This was Alphabittle's house. And he always made her uncomfortable. Really bright and self-confident, yes. Which was why the Forest unicorns, who by common consent had no leader, did what Alphabittle told them to. But the white-maned stallion also seemed to make it a point to rub that smarts in everypony else's faces. Almost as if he was trying to make up for something.
Maybe for being a colony pony, Izzy thought. Just like me.
She grinned. She'd never mention it of course. It wasn't the done thing. But it was a comfort, knowing that even the Challenge Master himself wasn't entirely perfect.
Izzy wasn't exactly sure why ponies who were different were called colony ponies. What was a 'colony', anyways? It was probably something like the jinxies ritual. Just a Forest thing, you got used to it.
Pushing through the Tea Room's doors, she looked around. And quickly spotted Prench Toast, sitting at one of the side tables.
Alphabittle was over at his bar, busily fleecing... er, competing with a customer. He probably wouldn't even notice her. Izzy trotted over to the side table and sat down opposite Prench. The brown, bereted unicorn was bent low over a fragment of crystal, tapping away with his hammer and chisel.
"Hey, Prench."
"Gah!" He winced and drew back, hurriedly inspecting the crystal to make sure he hadn't gotten the cut wrong. "Izzy! Do you mind? I am trying to stay focused here!"
"Sorry." Izzy nodded. "Yeah, normally, I wouldn't bother you. But I just finished The. Best. Project. Ever! And I really need some help trying it out. I don't suppose... you might..."
Prench put down his tools. And gave her a sad look. "Izzy, I told you. I don't have time for your silly arts-and-crafts projects any more. I'm trying to develop a serious skill here: collecting, cutting, and polishing gemstones."
"Uh... not sure I see a difference?"
Prench rolled his eyes. "You make a macaroni art picture, or a xylophone made from spoons and old bottles. Great! But what can you do with those? Put them on display in your house? You live in an art gallery, Izzy! And if that gives you joy, then go to, I say. But this..." He held up the half-finished crystal. "When I finish this, somepony will want to trade for it. Show it off. Make it a part of their life. I'll be a pony other ponies respect, because of what I can do!"
Izzy looked hurt, and Prench winced.
"Sorry, I didn't mean it to sound like that. But you see, this is why I need to focus. I have to show ponies I am grown up and serious about this." He waved a hoof at the bland-expressioned, gloomy ponies all around them. "I need to fit in." He shrugged helplessly. "And hanging around with you..."
Izzy nodded, getting it. "... makes you not want to fit in. Yeah, I can see that."
Now it was Prench's turn to look miserable. He looked like he wanted to cry. "Why," he asked quietly, "why is it you are the only pony around here who understands?"
She made a wry face.
"Easier to see stuff looking in from the outside I guess. Well, thanks anyways, Prench. See ya round, okay?"
"Yeah. See you, Izzy."
Across the room at the bar, Alphabittle rang his bell loudly. "Time's up! Guess I win again!" Then he looked around smugly. "Who's next? Any new takers? Anypony?"
But the Tea Room's front doors were already swinging shut. And Prench was back to work, tapping away again. Though his heart really wasn't in it anymore.
Izzy trudged back to her house, not looking at anypony or anything. Once there, she shoved the rosebud-shaped table into a curtained side-closet. And then sat down in the middle of the room, with its colorful displays of her latest inspirations.
Prench wasn't wrong. She did live in an art-gallery. Creating things, reusing materials cast off by other ponies, giving them new colors and shapes and purposes... it give her life meaning. It was a way of expressing the joy and wonder she felt when she looked at... well, anything. She could see colors in magic, for horn's sake!
But around here, a pony like that just didn't fit in.
I'm a colony pony, Izzy told herself stoically. Whatever the hay that means...
Then she shrugged carelessly. And so what? If I'm weird, I'm weird. And If I'm happy, I'm happy. And I can be happy just creating stuff, all by myself. Even if nopony comes by to look at it. It's who I am. I don't need anypony else's approval.
She smiled, looking around. Yeah. I have everything I need, right here in my own snug little house. Everything I need to be happy.
She got up and trotted over to the recycle bin, to rummage busily in it, looking for new ideas for things to create.
Who needs friends, anyways?
Atop its hill, the tree paused to consider.
It remembered friends. Ponies -- and other creatures, too -- who cared about and helped each other. The tree wanted to experience that again. Wanted them to experience it again. It wanted to bring harmony back to the world. It was what it lived for.
But with the ebbing of magic, it was now almost powerless. The last of its power was slipping away, vanishing. And leaving nothing behind but a simple, ordinary tree.
There was just enough magic left for one more try. One final wish, for a better world. But who to help?
Reaching a decision, in its slow, steady, vegetable way, the tree directed its last reserves of magic towards its topmost branches, towards the small paper lantern and its hoof-written note.
It could only help one pony. There was only one balloon, and one note, and barely enough magic for that. But the answer was obvious, the tree knew. There was one pony who needed help, desperately.
The balloon's wax candle regenerated and relit. The balloon tugged free of the branches, dragging the note along with it. A gentle sourceless wafting of air nudged the glowing lantern, sending it on its way.
And as the tree's awareness faded, it felt not sadness, but a sense of relief.
At least, it thought, at least I can do this much...
Izzy paused her rummaging in the bin. And she stared at the closet where she'd put away the rosebud tea-table.
She couldn't just give up on it. She really liked it, really wanted to give it a try. She'd created it in fact because she wanted friends to share it with. She always had.
Reaching behind her ear and into her mane, she pulled out the small hoof-drawn note from where she kept it tucked safely away. It showed a unicorn, a pegasus, and an earth pony, all enjoying a picnic together, with the message:
You have friends in Maretime Bay. Come visit us!
She'd kept the note ever since she was a filly. Ever since, having beaten Prench to the top of that tree, she'd discovered the small red paper lantern that had drifted into the upper branches, with the message attached to it.
She didn't know where Maretime Bay was, not exactly anyways. Out of the forest, she assumed, then hang a right and keep on going until you ran out of land.
But right now, she knew it was where she wanted to go, more than anything.
Who needs friends? she asked herself again.
I do.
She nodded to herself, firmly.
And I'm not going to find them here.
It was late afternoon, in Maretime Bay. Sunny Starscout had just finished doing the close-up on Natural Flavors' smoothie stand. And all the while being harangued by Sheriff Hitch about the craziness she'd caused at the Canterlogic factory.
Hitch reined in his frustration. He sighed regretfully.
"All that pony unity stuff," he finished gently, "was just a foal's bedtime story made up by your Dad. Like it or not, this is the way it is. And always will be." He gave Sunny a concerned look. "I'm the last real friend you got in this town. You really want to lose me too?"
Hitch hated himself for the way Sunny looked right now. As if reality had finally, finally sunk in. Like the last small light of hope in her eyes had faded. She got it now, he was sure.
Reluctantly, Hitch turned and headed away towards the Sheriff's office. For once, he didn't feel proud of the steel badge clipped to his bandolier. There was going to be all kinds of paperwork on this one, he was sure. But right now, he just wasn't in the mood.
At least she heard it from me, he told himself. From a friend.
He wasn't sure how much that helped. It made him feel a tiny bit better, at least.
Behind him, Sunny trotted over to a bench and sat down, forlorn.
"I wish you were here, Dad..." she whispered. And felt herself finally giving up.
For a few moments all was quiet.
Then ponies started running past. Screaming.
Sunny looked up, confused. There was a small stampede, a dozen or more ponies running scared from the road leading towards the lighthouse, as if something horrible was pursuing them.
Sunny got up from the bench. And was almost immediately spun round and knocked flat by a frightened stallion.
As she shook her head and looked up, a shadow fell across her. She stared up, with shocked eyes. At a smiling purple face, with a bone-white horn sticking out of its forehead.
"Hi, new friend! My name's Izzy!"
The tree, having sent the lantern on its way, sank into somnolence, becoming nothing more than an ordinary tree... for now.
Because it had sensed, even as it cast away the last of its magic in sending the message onwards, that it would not be the end. Not yet. And it had also dimly sensed how things would play out, with those three fillies, in the last three pony communities.
Even an ordinary tree has an affinity with time, with history. Roots dug deep in the past, branches and leaves reaching to a future as yet unseen. And a magic tree, well... that could see a little further than most.
The answer of course was simple. There was one pony who most needed help. A pony who needed a friend, any friend. Who would give up forever, without one. Unicorn or pegasi, it wouldn't have made a difference.
Sunny Starscout had asked for friends in her note. And the tree...
Well, for Harmony's sake. It had to provide them.
Or what was kindness for, anyways?
The End
My Little Pony: A New Generation, its characters and indicia are the property of Hasbro.
No infringement is intended. This story is a work of fan fiction, written by fans for fans of the series.
