“I thought you said you wanted my help in making a snowpony?”
“Mm-hmm!” Pinkie Pie replied, setting the snowball down at the top of the hill’s slope. A precarious position, for sure; even a gentle nudge would likely send it rolling down the hill.
Twilight Sparkle furrowed her brow slightly. “So are you gonna start rolling it back here, or…?”
Pinkie giggled and turned back towards Twilight. “Why would I do that, silly? This is the perfect place to build a snowpony!”
Twilight stared at Pinkie, her horn glowing as a structurally perfect snowball hung in the air next to her. “Are you sure? It looks a little precarious to me.”
“Precarious?” Pinkie cocked her head to the side. “I didn’t know there were big risks with making a snowpony! Ooh! Are we going to be visited by strange creatures from another dimension and they’re going to challenge us to a snowpony-making contest and if we lose then they’re going to turn everypony into Hearth’s Warming paintings and hang us up in a holiday gallery?”
Twilight shook her head. “Nnnnnno? I just mean that it looks like a gentle nudge away from getting away from both of us. And if it rolls down the hill, then it might be hard to roll it all the way back up again.”
Pinkie blinked. “Sooooooo…”
“Sooooooo I’m worried that you might push the snowball down the hill by accident?”
Pinkie giggled again. “Don’t be silly!”
“I’m not—”
“I’m going to push it on purpose!”
Before Twilight could react, Pinkie reached over and nudged the snowball, sending it plummeting downward.
“I think this is getting away from me.”
Twilight Sparkle rubbed her eyes and stared at the list again. She wasn’t a stranger to checklists with notes so compressed to fit their confines that they were almost illegible, but this was different. Checklists for daily activities? She could manage those. Theorems and proofs on complicated spells and mathematical equations? Easy.
Party plans? Unmanageable. And despite the chill of the frosty late-winter air, Twilight was definitely sweating.
When the door to her throne room swung open, Twilight practically jumped out of her skin. Seeing Pinkie Pie bounce in did little to calm her nerves.
“Oh, Twiiiilight~!” Pinkie chirped happily, expertly balancing a huge basket full of streamers and deflated balloons on her head. “How’s my super-special-helper-in-party-planning doing?”
“Oh! Uh...fine! Just fine!” Twilight replied, wearing an unconvincing grin on her face. “Just, y’know...got a list of everything that you mentioned might be useful for...helping other ponies out with their…” Twilight glanced at the top of the list again. “Post-Winter Post-Birthday parties?”
“Mm-hmm!” Pinkie bounced over to Twilight and tipped her head, neatly setting the basket down next to her. “For all the poor little fillies and colts with birthdays on the coldest times of year, where they can’t have picnics or go sailing or bounce on trampolines or so, so many other fun things! It’s only fair that they get to have a sunnytime and warmtime birthday party celebration, too!”
Twilight glanced down at the list again, then looked back up at Pinkie. “That’s, ah...very thoughtful of you! It’s just, um...are you sure that we’re going to be able to get enough supplies for this? Not to say that this is impossible or anything, just that these plans seem, uh...extensive?”
“Hm?” Pinkie stared at Twilight, still smiling even as her eyes belied an utter lack of comprehension. “Isn’t that a good thing?”
“It’s not a bad thing, no, I’m just, um…” Twilight bit her lip. “Pinkie, how are you going to be able to buy all this stuff? I mean, the amount you’d need for the ferris wheel alone—”
“Ohhhh!” Pinkie’s eyes widened, before she giggled and patted Twilight’s shoulder with her hoof. “Don’t worry about any of that, Twily! I know ponies, and I know ponies who know ponies, and I know ponies who know ponies who know ponies, and they’ll all be able to pitch in and help out! It’ll be a piece of cake! Ooooh, did you write down how many cakes I’m going to need for the party?”
Twilight arched an eyebrow. “You’re really going to be able to just magically pull all of this out of thin air?”
“Nope!” Pinkie shook her head. “You’re the pony that’s good at doing magic, Twilight! I’m just the pony that knows which other ponies can help me put smiles on everypony’s faces! There are plenty of ponies out there that love to do nice things for other ponies if it’s for a good reason, and what’s a better reason than a big, awesome party?”
“I’m not sure it’s that simple, Pinkie.” Twilight looked back down at her cake-related notes. “You really think this many ponies are willing to go out of your way to help you get all of this purchased and set up?”
“Mmhmm!” Pinkie replied. “I mean, I already asked one of my super special friends if she could help me organize the event, and she said yes right away! She even wrote out a list for me! How cool is that?” Flashing Twilight a big grin, she turned around and started trotting back towards the doors. “If everypony I know is like her, it should be easy breezie!”
Rolling her eyes good-naturedly, Twilight went back to reviewing her notes.
It took a few seconds for the implication to sink in, and when it did Twilight was at a loss for words.
“I…” Twilight rubbed her snout. “I’m not quite sure what to say about that.”
“ I can think of something!” Pinkie chirped. “How about ‘Oooh, nice job, Pinkie Pie! You got it exactly where we need it?’ ‘Cause that would be something that’d make me feel super good!”
“Was it really a nice job?” Twilight arched an eyebrow as her horn glowed, and a sizable chunk of snow detached itself from the ground and began molding itself into another perfect sphere. “I mean, I thought we were trying to build a snowpony.”
“Silly Twilight! We are building a snowpony!” Pinkie beamed. “In the perfect spot, too!”
“Down at the bottom of the hill?” Twilight deposited the second perfect snowball in front of Pinkie. “Don’t you want ponies to see it?”
“Of course! Everypony wants their snowponies to be seen! But there’s only so many hills, and only so many hilltops.” Pinkie stuck her tongue out of the corner of the snowball, her expression remarkably similar to the one Twilight wore when calculating quantum magic equations. “Buuuuuuuuut if you know where to look at the hillbottoms, you can find plenty of nice snowponies too! And if me and you are together, we’ll know exactly where to find ours!”
“That’s…not unreasonable.” Twilight’s brow furrowed. “I guess I thought you were going to make a snowpony everypony could enjoy.”
“Silly Twilight! Of course I will!” Giggling, Pinkie Pie turned around, hopped over to Twilight and ruffled her mane. “But if I’m going to make one that everypony could see, I want everypony to be around when we make it! If it’s just for us to see, then I don’t have to worry about anypony seeing it but you.” Pinkie’s eyes twinkled. “And you’re here!”
“Oh! Well, ah…I guess that makes sense, too.” Twilight’s smile was small, but genuine. “So who do you think our snowpony should look like? Starswirl the Bearded?”
Pinkie clucked her tongue patronizingly. “Silly filly! It’s not about how it looks, it’s about how you make it. So if I were you and you were me, but I wasn’t the me that was you and you weren’t the you that was me, either — how would you make a snowpony in the Twily-Wily way?”
Pinkie giggled again as she stared at Twilight, who looked utterly baffled. Not in the perplexed way she looked at a difficult problem or the vexed way she looked at an exceedingly difficult problem; no, this was the look of a sheer, utter lack of comprehension that only Pinkie could coax out of her. It was funny enough that Pinkie almost didn’t give her a hint to the answer.
Almost.
“Twiiiiily.” Pinkie gave Twilight an impish smile. “If I said there was something Twilight Sparkle was smarter at figuring out than anypony in all of Ponyville, what do you think it would be?”
“Magic?”
Still smiling, Pinkie gestured for Twilight to continue.
“...I don’t know, Pinkie. Math?”
“Yay! You got it right!” Pinkie sat down in the snow and clapped her hooves together. “Magic and math! Soooooo if you were me and you wanted to make a snowpony in the you-but-not-me way for your sake, what would you use?”
“Magic. And Math, I guess. Speaking of…” Twilight’s horn glowed, skimming the top of the snow off of the ground and coalescing it into a dense-looking snowball that hung in midair, glimmering slightly from the magic that suspended it. “I guess you’re going to send this downhill too, then?”
“Mmhmm! Just put it on the ground riiiiight before the slope! Then, um…” Pinkie’s ears flicked back as she looked uncharacteristically sheepish. “Do you think you could make the snowball I rolled down look like a snowpony’s leg? I mean, with magic and stuff. I forgot that it needs to be sculpted so it looks like a leg, and it might take a while to run down the hill and back up it again.”
“Sure thing, Pinkie.” With a small, good-natured smirk, Twilight set the snowball on the ground and refocused her horn on the much larger snowball far below. Immediately, it began to shed snow, taking on a slimmer, better defined appearance.
“Thanks, Twily!” Pinkie chirped, rolling the snowball Twilight set down off to the side and examining the slope again.
Twilight worked at touching up the foreleg for a few seconds before pausing. “You know, it’s sort of funny.”
“What is?”
“Whenever we get together for one of your plans, I always feel like you’ve got a better handle on how things are going to turn out. Like this way of making snowponies, for instance.” Twilight’s small smirk redoubled. “So it’s always a little surprising to see that you don’t always have everything figured out.”
Pinkie snorted and returned the smirk as she toyed with the snowball. “Of course I don’t, silly! Everypony makes mistakes.”
“Twilight?”
“Mmm?”
“I think I made a mistake,” Pinkie groaned, laying sprawled out on top of Twilight and staring up wearily at the early evening sky.
Twilight sighed, being careful not to let Pinkie fall off of her back as she continued the long journey back to Sugarcube Corner. “I did say that you were biting off more than you could chew.”
“It wasn’t all the cake that was a mistake, Twily.” Pinkie’s head lolled to the side. “It was all the partying after the cake.”
“It’s a metaphor.” The road ahead turned bumpy and uneven, and Twilight slowed her gait. “Hosting two individual parties in one day would be a bit of a stretch, but five? I’m amazed you didn’t collapse after the third one.”
“But I’m Ponyville’s premiere party planner, Twilight.” Pinkie’s forehooves twitched, as if she was trying to raise her hooves skyward to emphasize the grandness of her title, but lacked the energy to follow through. “Helping fillies and colts of all ages have the best parties ever is what my cutie mark tells me to do!”
Twilight shook her head softly. “A cutie mark should be a guiding star, not a punishment. You don’t need to party until you can’t move just to make other ponies happy.”
“But don’t I owe it to them?” Pinkie’s voice grew slightly quieter.
“There’s a difference between a party that leaves you satisfied and a party that leaves you exhausted.” Carefully, Twilight stepped over a pothole and started to pick up the pace again. “It’s not like you promised anypony else that you would make a massive balloon float, for instance.”
“Didn’t I?”
Twilight froze, hoof hovering over another pothole. “You did?”
“I asked you to put down how many balloons I’d need on the checklist you made for me. And the framing, and the motor, and the support beams, and the schematics! The schematics, Twilight! I could never make something like that on my own.”
Twilight stepped over the pothole and sighed. “I put those things on the list because you seemed excited about the idea, Pinkie. But you don’t have to do everything on the list just because I copied down what you told me.”
“I just…” Pinkie’s head lolled to the other side. “Didn’t want all your help to be for nothing. Not after you helped out for my sake.”
“You don’t have to use what I write down just because it’s there. That’s not what being a super special friend is about, Pinkie.”
Twilight froze, forehoof raised halfway up to cross another pothole. She hadn’t meant to say that — she meant to say friends, just friends. The other words just sort of came out, hadn’t they? Like from something out of a memory a long time ago. Of course, it didn’t necessarily mean—
“You really think that much of me?”
“Yeah?” Twilight crossed over the pothole. “Of course I do, Pinkie.”
Pinkie sniffed. “I wanted to impress you, Twilight.”
“You do.”
“I do?”
“Pinkie, I don’t have a hundredth of the energy you spend to make other ponies happy.” Twilight picked up the pace again. “And even if I did, I don’t know what I’d do with it all. Ponies always think that staying up for days on end working on research papers is exhausting, but even just watching you work like you do is…”
Twilight trailed off, walking in silence for a little. It wasn’t until the chirping of spring peepers filled the air and stars began to twinkle in the dusky sky that Pinkie broke the silence.
“It’s only ninety-nine percent to make other ponies happy, Twilight.”
“Oh?” Twilight’s horn glowed, helping to light the way home. “And what’s the last one percent?”
“To impress the pony who always seems like she works harder than I do. The one who’s willing to drop everything and take care of stuff that other ponies would find super boring, and who can do big brainy stuff that I could never even dream of doing.”
In any other place, at any other time, Twilight would have chuckled and thanked Pinkie Pie for the compliment. But there was something almost discomforting in her earnestness, in the quiet rawness of her admission. It sounded less impactful than the sum of its words, but felt far, far more than that.
“Well, Pinkie…” Twilight’s horn glowed “I’m impressed. And if you need something else in the future, you can always ask me.”
“Thank you, Twilight.” Pinkie said, gazing up at the stars. “I will.”
“Twilight! Watch this!”
“Hm?” Twilight replied, finishing adding the final touches to the snowpony leg at the bottom of the hill before turning to face Pinkie. Twilight’s body jolted, blood draining from her face as she saw Pinkie deliberately knock a sizable chunk off of her perfectly crafted snowball and — before she could stop Pinkie — send it careening down the hill. Her jaw hanging like a broken latch, Twilight could only watch as the malformed snowball half-roll, half-bounce down the hill…
…before curving neatly to the right, picking up snow on its broken side and smoothing out before it curved back again like a professionally thrown bowling ball. Disbelieving, Twilight didn’t so much as blink while the snowball, now a perfect whole, rolled neatly next to the leg Twilight had just finished sculpting.
It was only when she realized that the new snowball had stopped within kissing distance without touching the snow leg that her eyelids fluttered like a camera shutter.
“Pinkie…” Twilight let out a breath she didn’t know she had been holding in. “That was amazing!”
“Yay!” Pinkie pronked over to Twilight, smiling as bright as fresh snow in the sun. “Thank you, Twilight!”
“You’re welcome…wait!” Twilight raised her hoof in objection. “Wait, more importantly, how? How could you possibly pull off something like that?”
“Oh!” Pinkie chirped. “I learned it from you, Twily!”
“Wait, what?” Twilight sputtered. “But I- how- that- how could you do something like that in the first place? Especially given that I didn’t tell you anything?”
“Silly Twilight! Of course you told me!” Pinkie giggled and patted the top of Twilight’s head. “Just not with words!”
“What are you talking about?” Twilight said, still boggled.
“Well, I thought about how Twilight would do something that was totally possible but totally didn’t look possible at all! And then I realized that I could just think of things in a math way like you did! So I stared really, really hard, and thought about all the different ways that a snowball could roll, and then I figured it out! Just like you do!” Pinkie puffed out her chest. “Well, except without writing things down on scrolls and stuff.”
“That’s…I’m not sure math works that way, Pinkie.”
“Well, that’s how math works the Pinkie Pie way! Just like you’re good at figuring out parties the Twilight Sparkle way! There’s a lot of different ways to think about a lot of different things, you know.” Pinkie’s expression softened. “That’s something you showed me.”
Twilight was once again about to ask why, but the answer struck her a moment before it left her mouth. Instead, she trotted over towards Pinkie Pie and rested a hoof on her shoulder. “It’s something super special friends learn from each other, isn’t it?”
“Yeah.” Pinkie’s voice was as soft as a summer breeze, but her eyes shone brighter than any polar star. Then, abruptly, she bit her lip and stared down at the ground. “...Twilight?”
Silently, Twilight leaned over and nuzzled Pinkie Pie’s muzzle. With a squeak of surprise, Pinkie’s smile grew small, soft and undeniably warm. When Twilight pulled away, Pinkie’s expression was still soft, but reassured, as if whatever spectre of sudden uncertainty had been banished forever.
“I’ll never regret fall…wanting to be super special friends with you, Twilight.”
Twilight giggled, blushing slightly. “And I’ll never regret deciding to get to know you better, Pinkie.”
“I regret everything about this.”
Twilight lay face down in the dirt. Pinkie Pie lay sprawled on top of her. A second ago, Pinkie had been falling through the air, Twilight had the capacity to teleport herself under Pinkie Pie to break her fall and lacked the peace of mind to remember that using telekinetic magic to break Pinkie’s fall was likely just as effective as using her own spine.
Pinkie giggled. “Oops.”
“My back feels a little worse than ‘oops’ covers.” Twilight moaned. “You promised you were going to be careful.”
“I was!”
“The song and dance routine between the rooftops of Ponyville wasn’t exactly careful.”
Pinkie rolled off of Twilight’s prone body, stood up and dusted herself off. “Oh! Well, that was to help make everything go faster. It’s not as fun to do work if you don’t do it with a song and a smile! And not as fast, too.”
“But also not as dangerous.” Twilight staggered to her hooves and stared at Pinkie. “Why do I always feel like I have to watch over you?”
Pinkie rolled her eyes, still smiling. “You don’t have to, silly filly.”
“I do if I don’t want you to go splat.” Twilight coughed out a mouthful of dust and gingerly began to brush herself off. “And while I appreciate you helping me take down the decorations and exhibitions, I’d really prefer it if you didn’t go splat in the process.”
“And I’d prefer it if you didn’t go splat!” Pinkie stuck out her tongue. “And it’s not like you’re going to stop me from helping you out, either.”
“I’ll admit that I wasn’t expecting to have to take so much down.” Twilight gestured at a huge nearby pile of metal spirals, glass vials, sign boards and other miscellaneous educational paraphernalia. “Then again, the Ponyville Science Faire has never been nearly this big before.”
Pinkie beamed. “And it’s never been nearly as full of excited ponies either, right?”
“I’ll admit it was kind of a…massive, unprecedented success, honestly.” Despite herself, Twilight stopped dusting her forelegs off to return the smile. “I’m not gonna lie, Pinkie: when you said you should make it feel more like a party, I thought you were a little crazy.”
“Everything’s more fun when it feels like a party! Especially science! Even without a science cake!” Pinkie looked a bit thoughtful for a second and rubbed her chin. “Which is good, ‘cause I’m not sure how to make a science cake. How do you make a science cake, Twily?”
“I’ll have to get back to you on that.” Gingerly, Twilight felt her ribs. Exactly as expected: wince-worthy. “That said…”
“Yeeeeeeeees?”
“You know you don’t have to help me out with all my projects, right?” Twilight’s eyes flicked briefly over to the pile of science equipment again, before looking back at Pinkie. “I mean…the new Ponyville library is fantastic, the Equestria-wide school reforms have been wildly successful and more ponies are in love with learning than ever before. And that never could have happened without you, trust me.”
Pinkie beamed. “Thanks!”
“But wasn’t that a lot of work for you? Like, a lot of work.” Twilight frowned slightly. “I don’t want you to feel obligated to help me out with all my pet projects just because I helped you organize your parties this year.”
“Wellllllll…” Pinkie grinned impishly and arched an eyebrow. “You learned a lot about what goes into parties, right?”
“Yeah?” Twilight arched an eyebrow back. “Of course I did.”
“And you said you liked them more, right?”
“I definitely appreciate them more. I know you make it all look like fun and games, but I didn’t realize how hard you tried to follow what your cutie mark tells you. And to that extent, I…”
Twilight shook her head and smiled.
“Aw, to heck with it. Yeah, I think they’re a lot cooler than I thought they were last year. Happy?”
“Yeah!” Pinkie trotted in place, unable to contain her enthusiasm while standing still. “It’s just like that, silly! I thought all your magic stuff and math stuff and science stuff was super hard and kind of boring before, but you made me realize just how fun it could be! And now I like it wayyyy more than I used to?” Abruptly, Pinkie stopped trotting and looked sheepish. “Even if I’m still not good at it. Sorry, Twilight…”
“It’s okay! I know you’re trying!” Twilight chuckled, then winced again as her body re-reminded her that she had just thrown herself under a fast, dense and very pink falling object. “Ow…but yeah. What kind of friend would I be if I got mad at you for not understanding all these crazy equations I keep throwing at you?”
Pinkie looked back up at Twilight for a couple of seconds, silently blushing. “...Not a super special one?”
“Definitely not a super special one.” Twilight sighed. “It’s…it’s been a while since we started using that term, haven’t we? Over half a year at least.”
Pinkie’s blush reddened further, her smile turning slightly shy. “Twily, I’m…I’m glad you don’t think I’m weird for wanting to spend more time with you and do more things with you and…”
“It’s not weird. And I’m really thankful you did. Cross my heart and hope to fly…”
“...stick a cupcake in my eye.” Pinkie finished, smile growing wider and blush diminishing as she casually jabbed herself in the eye with a forehoof. “You’ve made my life a lot happier, Twilight.”
“Me too, Pinkie.” Twilight started to mime the “cross my heart” motions, but gritted her teeth as her body re-reminded her that it wasn’t feeling up to the task. “Ow. That said, uh…not to seem rude, but would it be okay if we took a break from this so I could get a—”
“Hot bath and a soothing massage?” Pinkie replied, perking up.
Twilight quirked an eyebrow. “That’s not what I was going to say—”
“But it sounds like it’d be a really good idea, right? Mmmmmmmmmaybe?”
“...Okay, maybe it does.” Twilight chuckled. “Let me guess: You want to help me out with that, too.”
“Mmhmm!” Pinkie started trotting in place again. “What kind of super special friend would I be if I didn’t help out?”
“So, uh…” Twilight cleared her throat. “I’m guessing that you don’t need help rolling the snowballs for the hindlegs down the hill, either?”
“Nope nope nope!” Pinkie shook her head, giggling. “Buuuuuut I do need help with making that other foreleg look good! Sooooo…”
“Say no more.” Twilight grinned, horn glowing as she began to remotely shape and sculpt the other snowball from a spherical mass into a museum-quality sculpture. “We make a good team, don’t we?”
“Yeah!” Pinkie chirped, gathering up a pile of snow and starting to pack it into a sphere. “The super best of teams!”
“It’s been a heck of a year, hasn’t it?” Twilight replied with a smile.
“Oooooh! You mean since…?”
“Yep.” Twilight stuck her tongue out of her mouth as she carved out a fetlock with a level of precision that would make a professional sculptor weep with joy. “Since I first agreed to help you out and we first started, y’know…”
“Mmhmm! Three hundred and thirty-something days!” Pinkie paused. “Which isn’t exactly a year, come to think of it.”
“Guess we’ll just have to spend more days like this, then.” Gathering up more snow, Twilight began to join the forelegs together with a balanced, well-sculpted chest. “Can’t say I have any complaints about the thought, though.”
“Me either!” Pinkie finished rolling up one snowball, quickly rolled up another and deftly stomped a pair of uneven-looking chunks out of the two. “I’m ready!”
Twilight finished up, then turned towards Pinkie and arched an eyebrow. “Okay, are you seriously going to do two at once?”
“Yep yep ye-ep!”
“There’s no way you’re going to pull it off.”
Pinkie giggled. “Ooooh! Is that a bet?”
“It’s not a bet. But now I’m all curious.” Twilight smirked. “Show me.”
Deftly, Pinkie nudged her forehooves under the malformed snowballs and reared up. Both snowballs curved outwards, picking up speed and smoothing out ever so slightly as they curved back in again, right at the halfway point…
…only to miss each other by what must have been centimeters, curve outward again, and narrowly circle around the forelegs before coming to a gentle rest right before touching each other in a flawless double helix.
For the second time in as many minutes, Twilight’s jaw dropped.
“Ta-da!” Pinkie chirped. “What do you think?”
“That…” Twilight mumbled. “...was amazingly improbable.”
“Yep! But it worked out anyway, because I used math!”
Twilight stared dumbfoundedly at the two flawlessly rolled snowballs down below. A hundred variations of “what,” “how” and “why” questions floated about her head before she finally snatched one out of her subconsciousness.
“But…why two at once?”
“Oh! Well, I was thinking of us while rolling up the first one, and then I thought heyyyyy, maybe if I do two together, then it’ll be like how both of us do things together!” Pinkie grinned. “Plus, having them go next to each other like that is like how our interests got all wound up with each other!”
Abruptly, Twilight snorted. The snort turned into a chuckle, then a giggle, until Twilight was laughing in the chill winter air, legs buckling slightly as she gasped for breath.
At length, Twilight hiccuped, took a deep breath and suppressed a giggle long enough to wheeze out a sentence. “You’re incredible, Pinkie. I don’t think anypony could ever roll snowballs as well as you.”
“Ohhh, I don’t know about that.” Pinkie rolled her eyes and grinned impishly. “I could always be better!”
“How?” Twilight hiccuped again. “How do you get better than that?”
“Wellllll…I have no idea how I’m going to get the snowpony’s head up on there, so I guess we’ll have to go down the hill after all. Superspecialfriendtackle!”
“Su—”
Before Twilight’s brain could properly process what was going on, Pinkie Pie sprang at her, colliding bodily with her chest and tugging her down the slope. The two of them bounced over the snow and uneven ground, Pinkie laughing like she had just pulled the funniest prank in the world.
It was a laugh so genuine and cheerful that it was irresistibly infectious, and by the time they reached the bottom of the hill both ponies were laughing hysterically, eyes closed, wrapped up in each other, paralyzed by entanglement and mirth.
It took a while for Twilight to calm down enough to open her eyes again. When she did, she found herself staring up at the sky - and Pinkie’s beaming, rosy-cheeked face.
With one last giggle, Pinkie nuzzled Twilight’s muzzle.
Face flushed and beaming, Twilight nuzzled back.
