It was a beautiful morning in Maretime Bay, and Sunny Starscout intended to make the most of it. She finished packing her saddlebag, and pranced out the door, bouncing on the wheels of her roller skates, and then gently closed it behind her. Out of habit, she poked her head back in to make sure the picture hadn’t fallen, and then skated down the road towards the city.
Her journey down was quick and uneventful, and she soon saw her target. She slipped off her roller skates and sidled up, approaching silently on the tips of her hooves at maximum sneaky.
Hitch had no idea she was even there until he was on the receiving end of an ear-splitting “Hi, Sheriff!”
Hitch jumped, bringing his hooves together—and smashing the sandwich he was holding between them. “Don’t do that,” he grumbled, pulling apart his hooves and looking dolefully at the now-mangled sandwich that dropped to the plate.
“Aw, you know you’re happy to see me,” Sunny said, giving him a friendly bump with her hips.
“Yeah, but my sandwich isn’t,” he grumbled. He paused to lick up some of the splattered mayonnaise off his hoof before continuing. “So, what’s got you living up to your name today?”
“Oh, the usual,” Sunny answered. “Got some good friends here, some good friends coming. Did a little more research,” she continued liltingly, and her smile widened. “Found another recipe I want you all to try.”
Hitch winced. “Didn’t Izzy-?”
Sunny sighed. “Izzy got sick because she ate almost a whole bowl of raw unicorn cupcake batter,” she said pointedly. “As long as you wait until it’s baked, you’re going to have a good day.”
“Alright,” Hitch said uncertainly. “But I’d be having a better day if I had a full sandwich,” he added under his breath.
Sunny smiled and dug into her saddlebag. “Well, I don’t have a sandwich, buuuut, could I interest you in a hoofmade unicorn cupcake? This one’s fully baked. Promise.”
“You’re forgiven,” Hitch said, quickly scooping it up.
“Uh, Sunny?” Hitch said hesitantly.
“Mm-hm?” Sunny answered.
“You know we’re friends, right?”
“Right,” Sunny said, not sure where he was going with this.
“Good. Um, and as your friend, I say this with… ok, I’m just going to come right out and say it. You look ridiculous.”
“You think?” Sunny asked, turning to look at him. Or, rather, face him; the Pega-Periscope Goggles (with a ‘Pega-friend finder!’ sticker slapped on top of the previous logo) she wore was directing her vision upward.
“We’ll know when they come,” Hitch said. “They can fly. It’s not like they can just magically appear behind us.”
“Boo.”
And for the second time today, Hitch jumped, smashing his food between his hooves. “Aw, nuts! Not again,” he grumbled, looking resignedly at the mashed unicorn cupcake. Glowering at nothing in particular, he licked the frosting off his hoof.
“Now this is a welcoming committee,” Zipp said pleasantly as Sunny scrambled to take off the Pega-friend finder.
“I’m so glad you’re here!” Sunny said, giving both princesses a quick hug. “I’ve been waiting to show you this.” With a definite pep in her step, she led the way down the main street.
Zipp followed along in the air, while Pipp stepped daintily, head high, showing off her shoes.
And then she slowed, and her brow furrowed.
Maritime Bay’s streets looked like they’d been through a storm. Dents peppered the doors and some of the walls, and wood scraps were scattered along the road.
“I don’t remember Maretime Bay looking so… messy,” Pipp said delicately, looking at the splinters on the ground and subconsciously covering her phone camera.
“Yeah,” Sunny said sheepishly. “Turns out earth ponies had magic we lost, too. We just didn’t realize it right away. So we’re still getting used to having enhanced strength…”
As if queued up to demonstrate her point, a foal behind her held up his hooves, and his friend threw a frisbee. He missed, which was probably a good thing, because it embedded itself halfway into the brick wall behind him.
“-and, uh, plant-growing-powers,” Sunny finished.
“You have plant-growing powers now?” Zipp asked, intrigued.
“So many unkempt lawn warnings,” Hitch murmured, staring off, his eyes wide and unseeing.
“We’re still, uh, researching that. But enough about that,” Sunny said brightly. “This is what I brought you here for.” She trotted over to the sheriff’s station and she gently nosed open the door.
Sprout was ostensibly cleaning his desk (though Hitch had explicitly stated that this was part of his normal duties and so would not count for his assigned community service hours), and he straightened up to protest. “Hey, hey! This is the sheriff’s station, not a club meeting spot,” he complained as Sunny and Hitch entered.
“Try thinking of it as ‘receiving a royal delegation’,” Zipp suggested airily as Pipp merrily pranced in behind her.
“Oh! Uh, hey, um, princess pegasuses… -ses,” Sprout said. He realized as he said it that it wasn’t quite right, but wasn’t sure how to recover without looking like a bigger fool, so he quickly returned to his work of looking busier than he actually was.
“Oh, yeah,” Sunny said. “Glad you all were able to get reinstated as royalty… how does that work, anyway?”
“Mm-mm-mm,” Pipp said lightly, to the cadence of ‘I don’t know’. “I think we’re just that important to pegasus society that they canceled the warrants and welcomed us back with open wings.”
“I’m thinking mom just got back on her throne and pretended nothing happened, and everypony was too busy flying to put up much of a protest,” Zipp said under her breath.
“Regardless,” Pipp said pointedly, “it’s done, and Princess Pipp is back on top of the charts of music stream counts, livestream watchers, and subscriber numbers.” She fluffed her wings self-importantly.
“Well,” Sunny said as she placed a pan covered by a towel on top of Hitch’s desk, “you’ll also be on top of the world when you try… these!” She dramatically pulled the towel off to reveal a tray of brownies, perfectly baked and illuminated by what seemed to be a magical shaft of light.
“Ooh,” her friends chorused.
“I’ve been meaning to get that fixed,” Hitch muttered, looking up at the hole in the wall.
“This is a brownie recipe I found scrawled in the margins of one of the old journals,” Sunny continued, eager to share her research. “It had hearts and balloons on it, so I’m thinking it may have been one of Pinkie Pie’s, or maybe one of her descendants’? It wasn’t real clear under all the frosting smudges. I hope it was frosting,” she added quietly. “Either way-”
Her voice trailed off as she realized that her friends had already sliced and divided them up, and were eating ravenously. Judging by the noises they were making, the brownies were receiving rave reviews.
“This is delicious,” Zipp said, awed.
“I gotta post this,” Pipp said, pulling out her phone.
“These are amazing,” Hitch agreed.
“Izzy’s going to be so jealous,” Zipp added under her breath.
“Earth pony magic!” Sunny sang, snagging some for herself. “Turns out, there’s a good reason earth ponies always used to make and grow food, even back when everypony had magic.”
“You keep baking like this and you’ll also be growing Pipp’s flank,” Zipp teased.
Pipp glared at her. “Don’t even joke about that,” she said coldly.
Zipp raised an eyebrow and reached out for the brownie portion left on her plate. “So, you don’t mind if I-?”
Pipp snapped at her hoof with her teeth like a shark and quickly shoved the rest of it in her mouth.
As they talked brownies, baking, and the basics of building a bigger fan empire, Sunny noticed that Sprout had been doing that thing where a pony stared at something while pretending that they weren’t actually staring. She followed his eyeline and raised an eyebrow, and then she leaned in towards Zipp. “Is it just me, or is Sprout really interested in your wings?”
“I mean, they are pretty great,” Zipp said fervently, jumping and doing a full flip midair with just a single flap. “Flying is better than I even dreamed it would be.”
“So truuue,” Pipp agreed, jumping up and taking a quick selfie with her wings extended.
Hitch ducked to try and get out of the picture, but when he looked over Pipp’s shoulder to see if he had, he realized with a start it looked like he was licking her hoof instead. “Delete that,” he said indignantly.
“Posted,” Pipp sang with a little shoulder dance, pushing a button and doing just that.
Hitch stammered in shock at her defiance. “Sheriff!” he protested, jabbing a hoof at herself.
“Princess,” Pipp countered with a little primp of her mane.
Hitch let his head fall back and let out a low sigh. No respect!
Over by Zipp, the conversation continued. “Think he wishes he had a pair?” Sunny asked.
“I don’t know,” Zipp mused, “but if he did grow a pair, it would look good on him.”
“You know I’m right here, right?” Sprout said, trying to stand and place his forelegs dramatically on his desk, but just knocking over his paper depooty nameplate instead.
“Then you can come talk to us,” Zipp said. “We don’t bite. Unless you ask nicely,” she added blithely, raising her eyebrows.
Unaccustomed to being welcomed like this (and unsure just how welcome and/or likely to be bitten he actually was), Sprout hesitantly approached. “So, uh, I was wondering, why are you two’s wings so different?”
The two sisters shared a brief look.
Hitch, Sunny, and Sprout were all only foals, so they missed the significance of this brief but pertinent gesture.
“Pipp is still a young pegasus,” Zipp said, grabbing her sister in an affectionate headlock and ruffling her mane with a hoof.
Pipp squeaked and pulled her head free, pushed her hooves away, and scrambled to fix her mane and tiara. She had her image to maintain, after all! What if one of her Pippsqueaks saw her like this?
“She’s young enough that she still has her baby wings,” Zipp continued.
“Baby wings?” Sprout repeated.
Sunny’s brow furrowed. She hadn’t read about this.
“Ohhh, right, earth pony,” Zipp realized, bouncing her hoof off her forehead. “You wouldn’t know. Well, it’s a big day for all pegasi, the day your fluffy, downy baby wings fall off.”
“Fall off?!” Sprout gasped.
Zipp made a motion with her hoof, dropping it like her own wings had fallen to the ground. “Thump,” she said helpfully. “But don’t worry! Before long, she’ll grow a fine new adult set, like mine.” She proudly flared her wings, displaying her (admittedly impressive) wingspan.
Sprout looked between them, half enthralled, half horrified. “Is that really a thing?” he asked in a whisper.
“It sure is,” Pipp agreed. “It’s a momentous occasion for a pegasus, right up there with the day you get your cutie mark.”
Sprout quickly glanced back at his own cutie mark, as if making sure that it hadn’t fallen off while he was talking. “Doesn’t that hurt?” he asked, reaching over to rub at his opposite foreleg.
“Not at all!” Zipp said.
“It’s completely natural,” Pipp agreed. “Like losing a baby tooth.”
“Kinda itches when they grow in, though,” Zipp added irritably in a low voice, scratching at where her wing met her body with a hind leg in a most un-princess-y manner.
“Do you, uh, livestream that, too?”
Pipp gasped exaggeratedly. She pulled him over by his chin and pressed her muzzle against his. “Sprout,” she said, with uncharacteristic seriousness. “This is not something to be taken lightly. To see a pegasus without her wings is to see her at her most naked.”
His eyes flicked. “But you’re, um, always naked?” he protested hesitantly, somewhat taken aback at her intensity.
“Metaphorically speaking, Sprout,” Pipp emphasized in the same tone of voice.
“Yeah, no way,” Zipp confirmed. “When I lost my baby wings, I locked myself in my room, turned off all the lights, hid under my blankets; I wouldn’t even let my own mother see me. But now that I’ve got these babies-” She reared up and flapped her wings demonstratively, hovering briefly in the air, “-well,” she smirked, “you can stare all you want.”
Sprout quickly averted his eyes. He knew a trap when he heard one.
“It happens at different ages for every pegasus,” Pipp continued. “I’m a bit of a late bloomer, myself, but I think still having my baby wings helps maintain my image as the cute one.” She tucked her hooves under her chin and pulled on a cute smile, and blinked slowly, fluttering her eyelashes. “Right, Zipp?”
“You’re certainly something,” Zipp conceded, looking away.
Pipp gave her sister a narrow look.
“Just kidding!” Zipp said brightly, wrapping a foreleg around her shoulders and booping Pipp’s nose with the tip of a hoof. “You’re the cutiest patootiest, Pipp.”
Pipp bumped her off with her hips and brushed her muzzle as if brushing the boop away.
Zipp chuckled and turned back to Sprout. “You know, you can go and see for yourself,” she continued. “Our mom actually kept hers. Her baby wings are in the Zephyr Heights Museum.” She held up her hooves to describe the banner. “‘Royal wings that allow flight’. They were a popular attraction. They’re going to have to change that name, though,” she added under her breath.
“So downy,” Pipp added. “They looked so comfortable.”
Sprout nodded. “Uh, Hitch?” he started.
“You’re confined to city limits until your community service hours are completed,” Hitch said tiredly, as he had so many times before.
“Yeah, that’s fine,” Sprout said, backing towards the door. “Uh, I’m going to go, get some of those hours in. Here. In Maretime Bay. Nowhere else. Really.”
“Just be back before dark, or I’ll tell Izzy you’re playing hide-and-seek with her and she’s ‘it’,” Hitch warned.
Sprout suppressed a shudder, but nodded and quickly left, shutting the door behind him hard enough that the blinds broke off.
For a moment, nopony said anything. The only sound was the clock ticking on the wall.
Then Sunny made a -snrk!- noise, and it was over. They fell over each other laughing.
“And they say I’m the performer,” Pipp said proudly, giving her sister a hoofbump.
“Eh, I do what I can,” Zipp said, returning it.
“You two really had me going there,” Sunny said.
“Heh,” Hitch scoffed. “I saw through your little deception the whole time.”
“Did you really?” Pipp challenged.
He took a quick breath. “No, I didn’t,” he admitted disgruntledly. “You were very convincing.”
Pipp smiled smugly and curtsied deeply with her wings.
“He’s not actually going to do it, is he?” Sunny wondered, looking out the window.
“What, walk all the way to Zephyr Heights? No way,” Zipp scoffed. “Nopony’s that dumb.”
“He’ll probably realize we were joking before he even leaves Maretime Bay,” Pipp agreed.
There was a brief pause.
Smiles slowly faded, ears slowly lowered, tails sank a little bit. Sunny bit her lower lip. Hitch subconsciously adjusted a rear hoof.
“He, uh… is going to realize we were joking, right?” Pipp said, a bit more uncertainly this time, glancing over for confirmation.
“I mean,” Hitch started, ready to defend his deputy, but then he realized that he had nowhere to go with that, and so didn’t say anything else.
For an awkward moment, nopony said anything.
Sunny clapped her hooves together. “So!” she said with a little forced cheeriness. “I also found a recipe for something called ‘no-bake cookies’, anypony want to try making them with me?”
A few hours later, Sprout opened the door, kicked the door shut and turned to glower at the other ponies.
At least, that was his intent.
What actually happened was his hoof went through the door, and got stuck halfway up his cannon.
This prompted some scattered laughter.
Irritably, he yanked it out, sending wood scraps scattering across the floor. He moved to kick it shut again, gentler this time, and it did close, but only to bounce back open and whack him on the flank, bumping him forward.
This, of course, did nothing to stop the laughter.
Giving up, he stomped over to his desk. He slumped in his chair and crossed his forelegs. “I hate you all,” he said.
Author's Note
Izzy: Taa-daa! Hi friends! I’m feeling much better now. Unicorns do not puke glitter, in case you were wondering. So! What did I miss?
Sprout: Hey, Izzy. Did you know pegasi have baby wings that they lose, like baby teeth?
Izzy: Whaaaat? No way! That’s another fun thing we have in common! We unicorns lose our horns and grow new ones every few years. This here is actually my third horn.
Sprout: Your what?
