drizzleView OnlineShe Waits for ThunderdrizzleA storm is on the horizon. She sees it brewing beyond, lurking just outside her window. A mass of gray over blue. A blanket miles over the ocean. Lofty can see it all from her bed. A quiet sigh escapes her. The room is cold, even if the air outside is thick and humid. Static clings in the air and the stench of ozone reeks from above. There’s no thunder yet, but it’ll come soon enough. It always does at this time of year. A wave crashes against the shore. The sound is engraved into her head now. Same for the smell of salt heavy in the air, and the distant cries of gulls up above. A creak echoes through the house. She ignores it, focusing on the half-knit project in front of her. The backboard is cool against her back, a pillow serving as an intermediate between it and her head. Music from a record player plays softly in the background. A quiet hum as Lofty looks at the nearly-garment. It’s a scarf, but she’s only half-paying attention to it. She’s knit so many that she can make them in her sleep now. There are exceptions, though. Namely the one that she gave to Holiday. That bugger had kept her up for hours fretting over every little stitch and thread. Four other scarves had been deemed unfit for Holiday’s neck before she finally knitted the perfect one. Had it paid off? Definitely maybe. Holiday’s smile was etched into her mind now. The laugh echoes across the room. The ghost of their hug clings to her. A scratch on the record produces a skip in the music. A sigh follows shortly after. “She’s not yours, Lofty.” It comes out softly as the knitting slows. “She’s got Rolling. She’s happy.” That should’ve been enough. Lofty leans back against the headboard of her bed and waits for thunder.
rainView OnlineShe Waits for ThunderrainLofty can’t take her eyes off the hospital bracelet tied around Holiday’s foreleg. Holiday hasn’t met her eyes yet. She chews her cheek and fidgets in the bed. The distant crackle of an intercom and the beep of the LCD fill the spaces in between. “Doc says I got lucky.” A low voice, stuttering and uncertain. “Gonna hurt in the mornin’ but I’ll be apples after. Just waitin’ for the X-rays and…” Holiday tries to muster a smile. She trails off. Lofty knows she’s expecting a reply but she doesn’t know what to say. The smile washes away like a beachfront to a wave. A click of a tongue and a shake of her head. “Lofts, I’m sorry.” A quiet and defeated whimper. Holiday covers her head with her hooves. “She wanted to go towards the storm! I knew it was a bad idea, but she tried to turn us around and we just… it just…” A low hum of understanding. It seems to relax Holiday but only in the slightest. She finally meets Lofty’s eyes. A face overcome with shame. Rolling Thunder had already left the hospital when Lofty showed up. That was too bad, because Rolling was going to need a hospital by the time Lofty was done with her. “I’m sorry I crashed the boat.” A murmur against the hum of fluorescent lights and the air conditioning. “I’ll get Snap to come look at it… Maybe he can fix it before your dad finds out.” “It’s alright, Holly.” It comes out soft and gentle. Lofty puts a hoof on Holiday’s withers and smiles. “I’m just glad you’re okay.” “I don’t deserve you.” Lofty just leans in further to hug her the best she can.
lullView OnlineShe Waits for ThunderlullThe splashing of water, cold against her coat. “Stop that.” Holiday sticks her tongue out. “Or what?” Lofty hums in reply. “C’mon, live a little! We’re already soaked as-is!” The pitter-patter of rain falling onto the cobblestone streets around them. Lofty cracks a smile and rolls her eyes. Holiday kicks at a puddle and sends more water her way. “You’re an idiot.” It comes out bemused and mirthless. “And it’s hard yakka being an absolute drongo,” Holiday responds with a wink. A distant roll of thunder sails over the rooftops, close enough to be heard but not to be alarming. Lofty leans to her right and flicks her wing through a puddle, lightly spraying Holiday. Holiday recoils as if she’s been shot and falls to her side with an anguished, over-exaggerated cry. “Argh! You got me!” “Did I?” “You’ve slain me!” The flailing of legs against the slick wet stone. “I’m dyin’! Dyin’ I say!” “You’ll get better.” Holiday gestures for her to lean in, and Lofty obliges to entertain her. “Come… closer. You gotta tell my family I said this. It’s important. Put it on my gravestone. My final words… are…” It comes out a whisper. “Butts.” A smile. A snicker. A laugh. The two are doubled over laughing now, tears lost to the rain that hammers them. Lofty wipes her eyes. “You… You’re a bloody idiot.” “I know! It’s great!” cackles Holiday. Even as they smile, something churns in Lofty’s stomach. Somehow, she still feels… off. Upside down. Like things are still wrong between them.
stormView OnlineShe Waits for ThunderstormThe chill of a wind down her spine. The creaking of the door as she pushes it open. A hitch of a breath as the light from inside bathes over Holiday. A quiet sniffle, a hoof scuffing against the street. “She broke up with me.” Lofty blinks, slowly. Before she knows it, she’s ushering Holiday inside, leading her up the stairs and into her room. Holiday is sitting on her bed now, letting Lofty drape a blanket around her. A roll of thunder in the distance. A splash of rainwater against her window. Lofty climbs in next to her in the bed and hugs her close. Nothing more is said that night.
thunderView OnlineShe Waits for ThunderthunderThe creak of hooves against the floorboard, almost lost to the faint drizzle outside. Lofty has never been a heavy sleeper, so she isn’t surprised that the sound was enough to wake her. She climbs out of bed and down the stairs in a haze, flicking on the lights in the living room and freezing when she sees Holiday there. They stare at each other unmoving before Lofty sees the ring of keys in Holiday’s hooves. A furrowed brow and a disapproving frown. “You gonna try and stop me?” Lofty works her jaw. “Depends. Where are you going?” “Rolling left for Equestria.” “And you’re going after?” Holiday doesn’t reply. The scuffing of hooves on hardwood floor as Holiday turns to leave. Lofty follows. They meander down the road in the darkness, rain stinging at their eyes and coats. Soon they’re at the docks, Holiday using the stolen keys to unlock the gate leading right up to her boat. A few bags of supplies are waiting by it, which Holiday throws on. Lofty stands on the dock, watching Holiday prep the boat. They both know the ins and outs of sailing, but Holiday by far has proven to be the better sailor between them. Thoughts crash in her head like the wave as she watches her friend. “You’re really going to try and make it all the way to Equestria?” “You going to try to stop me?” “I don’t know yet.” A grunt is the only reply she gets. Lofty steps on the boat. Holiday pauses in her preparations to stare at her in confusion, but, when she still says nothing, she simply ignores her. Before long, they’ve set off. Lofty still can’t piece together what to say, so she continues to let things happen. The storm is above them now, pounding rain into the ocean. Holiday takes the helm, her mouth clenched in a terse line. “Where in Equestria did she go?” Lofty shouts over the crashing waves. Holiday grimaces. “Dunno. Doesn’t matter. I’ll find her.” “Then what?” Holiday doesn’t say anything, so Lofty stands to move next to her. “And then what, Holly?” “I don’t know!” comes the cry. “I need to know what I did wrong, okay?!” “You didn’t do anything wrong!” “Then why did she leave?” Lofty sighs. “Because I don’t think she ever loved you, Holly.” Holiday grips the wheel tightly. In the dark, Lofty can make out her form trembling in the wind. “You shouldn't have come,” she finally snaps. “I had this all figured out, now you’re ruining it! I didn’t bring enough supplies for you, I had a plan and now…” Lofty doesn’t reply to that. The sky flashes white and a roar of thunder sweeps them up. “Are you sure you wanna do this?” “Yes!” Her voice cracks. “Holly. I don’t think you do.” “I do.” It comes far weaker this time. Her grip on the wheel falters. Lofty sighs. She puts a hoof on Holiday’s shoulder. “It’s not too late to turn around,” she whispers. Holiday stares off at the waves in front of them. “She left. She’s gone,” Lofty continues. “And…” It’s her turn to falter now. “I’m sorry.” “It’s not your fault.” Slowly, Lofty puts a hoof on the wheel. “I think we should go home. Do you want to turn around?” Holiday sniffs, tears staining her cheeks and mixing with the rain. “Yeah,” It comes out soft and small. Slowly, their hooves together turn the boat around. Through the waves. Back to land. Away from the storm.
cloudsView OnlineShe Waits for Thunderclouds“I need to borrow your boat.” Silence, followed by the indifferent flick of a newspaper. A sigh. “I said, I need to borrow your boat.” Again, silence. “Hey.” The sound of a bag of bits landing on the table. It lands next to a pair of crossed yellow legs. The rustling of a newspaper as it lowers enough for two opal eyes and one raised eyebrow to peer over the top. “Do I want to know where you got that?” A whine. “C’mon, cut me some slack. It won’t be long, and we’re not gonna do nothin’. Just crack some coldies and watch the sunset.” The eyebrow climbs higher. “You two on a boat, in the dead of night?” That gets a cough and a flush of red across pale brown cheeks. “Aw Crikey, it ain’t gonna be like that.” “That’s what you said last time.” The table bucks as a sudden weight throws itself onto it. The newspaper lowers more so tired eyes can gaze in unamusement at the pony-shaped, tan and scarlet pile that has thrown itself onto the table. A groan escapes from the annoyance. “You neeeeever let me use iiiiiiiiiit!” “I let you have it last week and look what you did.” “I was gonna clean it, but I’ve been flat out like a kangaroo drinking.” “Shame.” The newspaper rises again, and the pony-pile senses that it is running out of time. “C’mon Lofts, I promised Rolly I’d take her out tonight.” “Then take her to the canteen again!” “And end up on the booze bus?” “Sure. Just bail yourselves out this time.” A sigh. “What’s it gonna take?” The newspaper falls and concern flashes across opal eyes. “You being straight with me for once?” They fall quiet as the market continues to shift around them. “Yeah. Reckon I owe you that much,” mutters the pile. “You’ve saved my hide enough to earn it.” A quiet inhale followed by a nod. “Yeah. I’ll be straight with ya.” “Holly, I don’t want to see you with her.” The words are quiet and weighed with concern. Lips are pursed and a cheek is chewed. “I’m not gonna. I can look out for myself, y’know.” “I don’t like her.” “I know! I… I wish you did.” A head is hung in shame, and, for a moment, guilt washes over them. “Me too.” A ring of keys is tossed across the table, caught in one hoof. “Lofts! You’re the best!” “Don’t beach yourself.” Hooves turn in sand as one moves away. A brief pause before a frantic, scrambled shout. “Oh, Holly, wait, wait!” Hooves return to the booth. A blue scarf is passed from one to the other. “Here. Happy birthday.” “Lofts…” An embrace, warm and full, and a laugh that’s bright and joyful. “Thanks! I’m never taking this off!” A blush, on the other pony now. Holiday blows a kiss and winks before prancing off into the market. Lofty watches her go.
lightningView OnlineShe Waits for ThunderlightningWaves lap against the side of the boat. Lofty leans over the side lazily, staring down at the welcoming blue waters below her. She sees her own reflection staring up at her. Her face looks as neutral as it usually does. It hides the anger brewing inside of her. “Where were you yesterday?” “Huh?” It comes out surprised. “What do you mean?” Lofty snorts. “You stood me up. I waited three hours for you.” Holiday blinks. “Aw, crikey, I thought that was next week! Lofty, I–” A hoof is raised to cut her off. “Don’t,” she says. Quiet. Holiday raises an eyebrow. “What’s bitten you?” Lofty whirls around to glare. “You! You told me it was over between you two!” Holiday’s face darkens. “How’s that any of your business? How’d you even–” “Snap told me,” Lofty says. “Holly, you said you two were done!” Holiday snorts. “She said she was sorry and it wasn’t gonna happen again.” “Did she? Did she really, or are you just twisting your words because you’re desperate to get back in her bed?” It comes bitter, harsher than she had intended. Holiday shoves her. “Oi! My relationship with Rolling isn’t any of your business!” “It is when you keep getting hurt by her! And you keep going back for more!” They’re shouting now, ruining the serene, rhythmic crashes of the waves. “You don’t know what we’re like! You just can’t get over your own hatred of her!” The boat rocks with their motions as they surge towards each other. Lofty jabs a wing into Holiday’s chest. “Well, I’m so sorry for caring about my friend!” Holiday rolls her eyes, “Yeah, sure. I’m starting to think you’re just jealous.” “Jealous. Jealous?!” A wave crashes into the boat. “I’m not jealous, I’m pissed. And I’m pissed because Rolling Thunder walked out of your house, wearing the scarf. THE SCARF I MADE FOR YOU!” Another second of silence passes. It grows larger with every second. Holiday chokes, trying to find the words. Lofty doesn’t want to hear them. She spreads her wings and flies away from the boat. Back to land. Towards the storm. Her tears fall off her cheek and are swept away by the ocean.
