Chapters Lightning Dust's Third Act
1: Getting Back On Her Hooves
I told you so!
Those four words had echoed in Lightning Dust’s head for weeks, filling her with outrage at the self-righteousness behind them. Spitfire had come to see her once, not to wish her a speedy recovery, but to rub her condition in. Lightning Dust desperately wished she could have spoken, could have let Spitfire know exactly how she saw things, but the cast across her mouth and jaw stifled her.
She’d lost track of how long she’d been stuck in this hospital. She’d felt every moment pass with excruciating clarity, the days and weeks blurring together as she lay immobilized. If it weren’t for her friends’ frequent visits and Doctor Horse’s attentive bedside manner she was sure she’d go stir-crazy from the lack of stimulation.
Look at you! You’ve ruined yourself, and for what? Some cheap thrill? Sometimes being the best does mean taking risks, but it’s not throwing caution to the wind, and risking absolutely everything on stunts that will cost you your life! Your road to recovery is going to be long and painful, if you ever fully do!
Her teeth clenched, anger welling up in her.
For the first week she’d blamed it all on Spitfire for booting her from the Wonderbolts. Her speed, maneuvering, and athleticism were matched only by Rainbow Dash. She should’ve had it in the bag! She was the lead, partnered with the only pegasus she’d ever met who could keep up with her. The other cadets didn’t have a chance. It was meant to be!
Then Twilight and her friends showed up and everything went to Tartarus. If it hadn't been for that the results would've been just a destroyed blackboard and a few dizzy ponies.
My advice is to use this time to think about how you got here, and how you can avoid coming back here again. You’ve got plenty of it, after all.
Even she had to admit that taking Scootaloo’s place without an ounce of thought was a stupid idea. She really wished she’d at least put her helmet on, then maybe she could’ve eaten solid foods. Or any food.
The idea of drinking through a straw was never appealing, but she knew, knew that choking down whatever liquid paste she’d be made to suck through a straw would be preferable to the feeding tube they’d put in her stomach. If Spitfire had warned her she’d wind up immobilized in a full-body wing-and-hoof cast being fed nutrient formula through a hole in her abdomen, that might have been a more effective deterrent.
As much as it pained her to admit, Spitfire was right. It had only been a matter of time before the stunts the Washouts were doing ended up maiming them. It had been nothing but pure luck she’d pulled through. She was glad the impact had knocked her out, the idea of being conscious with how mangled she wound up made her shudder in her plaster prison.
Maybe while you’re thinking about how you got here you’ll rethink that death trap team of yours and the friends you’ve got on it.
Her team may have been a death trap, but she planned to change that, and at least they were friends with healthy group dynamics, not just a bunch of dysfunctional coworkers held together by aligned interests. No degrading nicknames, no going behind each others’ backs, and definitely no trying to frame one another to protect some stupid record. It certainly helped that they’d known each other before forming the Washouts.
A soft click sounded as the door to her room opened. Lightning Dust strained her peripheral vision to see Doctor Horse stepping in, a small metal instrument carried in his magic. “Good morning, Ms. Dust, I have wonderful news. Today’s the big day.”
He held the tool in clear view and explained how it worked and that it wouldn’t hurt, but she began to zone out. Her mind was racing with excitement at the prospect of going home, but it was replaced with nervousness as he carefully took the feeding tube in a gloved hoof.
“One quick pinch is all you’ll feel.”
Lightning Dust winced as he carefully extracted the feeding tube. It was slow, a dull pain rising in her abdomen. As soon as she was about to make a noise of protest it was over, a touch of magic closing the hole left behind. She exhaled in relief, relaxing as much as her cast would allow her.
What if it had been Scootaloo on that rocket? She’d either be where you are, or dead! I guarantee you Dash woulda beat you within an inch of your life, your team would be finished, and you’d be heading to the big house!
That thought had occurred to her without Spitfire’s lecture. Had that happened, no force in Equestria would’ve been able to save her from the backlash. Her reputation would’ve been damaged beyond any hope of reconciliation. Short Fuse and Rolling Thunder would’ve been caught up in it, too, and she wasn’t sure if she could live with herself knowing she’d put a foal in the hospital, or worse.
Sleeping had never been easy during her recovery. The uncomfortable position she was in and the incessant itching from her cast would’ve been enough, but knowing that all their dreams would’ve gone down in flames had Scootaloo not lost her nerve and pressed the red button only made it worse. Sleep had only come in restless fits until Doctor Horse started putting a mild sedative in her IV.
She closed her eyes as he began to cut into the cast around her head. As promised it didn’t hurt, though it was slowgoing. Soon she would be out of this bed, soon she would be out of this hospital, soon she’d be able to move on with her life. Knowing how soon she’d be up and about, the suspense of waiting for it was the worst of her entire stay.
Doctor Horse finished a cut and used his magic to remove a piece of the cast from her head.
“Finally!” Lightning Dust croaked, her voice hoarse. She looked to see a glass being floated up to her and put her lips to it, taking a few careful sips.
He couldn’t help but chuckle kindly at her enthusiasm. “Don’t get too excited, I’m just getting started,” he advised before beginning to repeat the process on one of her back legs.
She drank her fill before taking her mouth away, the cup carefully levitated over to the bedside table. With some effort she began to work the kinks out of her neck, a resounding series of pops and cracks sounding through the room as she worked to loosen up. She felt the cast around her back leg come off and slowly flexed her stiff joints. She winced, her ankle feeling like a rusty hinge in need of oil.
“Excited to be out of here?” He asked, beginning to remove the cast around her other leg.
“You have no idea. It’ll feel great to be back home again. My bed is going to feel like butter after this.”
Doctor Horse smiled. “Butter, huh? Is that what it’s like?”
“Yeah,” her smile widened with anticipation, “I wish other ponies could try cloud beds. They’re softer than anything else I’ve slept on, all while perfectly cradling every contour of my body. Then again, anything beats here.”
“Fair enough. Any plans once you get out of here besides that?”
Lightning Dust held still as he peeled away another section of cast. “Oh yeah. Soon as I get out of here I’m going to get my fur groomed, maul a cheesesteak, and then I’m going to put my plans for the Washouts into action!”
Doctor Horse exhaled sourly, shaking his head in disapproval. “I’ll be sure to keep your bed warm, then. When’s your next show so I’ll know when to put a mint on your pillow?”
“Much as I’ll miss you, doc, this time is going to be different.” She stretched what was currently freed. “Besides, the season’s over. We won’t have any shows for close to a year.”
“I should hope so.” He didn’t even look up from his work while he spoke. “And while I’d like to get to know you better, I’d rather our next meeting didn’t follow another eighteen hours of emergency surgery.”
“For what it’s worth, I appreciate all you’ve done. If it weren’t for you I’d have gone crazy in here.” While her friends’ visits had been nice, he was the one she saw nearly every day. Sometimes he’d take an x-ray to see how she was healing or check the fluids in her IVs, but every time he came in he made sure to talk to her. It wasn’t like she could answer him, but she was grateful that he didn’t treat her like just another fixture in the room.
“My pleasure, Ms. Dust. We’re almost there.”
Lightning Dust held still while he cut and peeled away the cast from her torso, taking her first deep, unrestricted breath in weeks. “Alright, here we go.”
With effort she carefully slung her legs over the edge of the bed, slowly pulling herself to her hooves with Doctor Horse ready to catch her in case she fell. “Easy, Ms. Dust.” His aid earned him another grateful smile as she stood on the cool laminate floor.
Now certain she wouldn’t just collapse, Lightning Dust took a few careful steps and slowly unfurled her wings, moving about the room at a leisurely pace. Everything felt rigid, stiff; her ankles especially felt like they were still bound in their casts.
“How do you feel?”
“Heavy.” It was the first word that came to her mind. After limbering up her legs she sat down and began to carefully preen her wings. Her overgrown fur tickled her cheek as she tried to organize her feathers.
“That should get better with time and exercise. You’ve been off your hooves for a while, you need to build up your strength again.” Doctor Horse explained. “But as soon as you’re finished, your friends are waiting for you.”
That news made her heart pound with excitement. “Really?”
“Come on, I’ll take you to them.”
Lightning Dust blushed as he put a hoof between her wings, gently guiding her outside. For the first time she was able to observe her surroundings beyond her small room. For a while she hadn’t been sure if she’d been taken to a hospital in Ponyville or Cloudsdale, but given the lack of cloud architecture and the presence of earth ponies and unicorns, it was clear she was in a ground-based hospital.
She followed along, frowning at the effort it was taking to just put one hoof in front of the other. As they neared a corner he turned to face her. “Just go around.”
Lightning Dust nodded and complied. True to his word, Rolling Thunder and Short Fuse were in the waiting room, though they didn’t seem to notice her right away.
“What’s taking that doctor so long?!” Short Fuse impatiently paced back and forth. “Did he go to the university of ducks? Because he seems like a certified quack!”
Rolling Thunder chuckled and looked up from her magazine. “Don’t have a heart attack. We’re just getting one out, don’t need another going in. Besides, he’s taken good care of her till now.”
“That doesn’t answer my question!”
Lightning Dust smiled, her friends’ back and forth a welcome change of pace. “Hey, guys!”
As soon as those words left her mouth they were hugging her with enough force to nearly knock her off her hooves. She stumbled, but quickly righted herself.
Their warm embrace was exquisite, and she savored the caress of their fur and feathers. She moved to tenderly nuzzle both of them, enjoying the hug for a few more seconds before reluctantly pulling away.
“Come on, race you home.”
Author's Note
This is a brand new Lightning Dust story that I've been working on for a while. It's going to replace Crashing To Rock Bottom, and we're going to see how Lightning Dust picks herself up, dusts herself off (pun somewhat intended
Hope yall have a fun time with this one!
Lightning Dust's Third Act
After being bedridden for so long, the freedom of the open sky was just what Lightning Dust needed. The wind in her face and seeing the ground far below were always welcome, but the trio didn’t exactly race home so much as her friends hung around her in case she needed any help.
Even so, there was definitely something lacking. No matter how hard she flapped her wings her speed hardly exceeded anything other pegasi could do. If her friends wanted to they could’ve easily outflown her. She grimaced at the thought of what her anemometer would read, and how long it’d take to build up her wing power again.
After some time, a familiar cloud house began to come into view. It had started out as nothing but a bare-boned and cramped living space, but as the Washouts began to take off they quickly put those bits into expanding their house into something more spacious.
When Lightning Dust finally landed on the doorstep, the feeling of plush clouds under her hooves was just like she remembered, complimenting her long-awaited homecoming.
Stepping through the doorway, Rolling Thunder wrapped a wing around her friend’s side in a quick hug. “Glad you’re back. Go on and get a shower, Dust. Fusie and I will get started on lunch.”
Short Fuse’s mouth contorted into a crimped smile of barely restrained annoyance as he shut the door behind him. “Hey, what’ve I told you about volunteering me for things without asking, or that nickname?”
“You want to eat lunch, too, don’t you?” She asked with a smirk.
Short Fuse’s face fell, knowing the verbal ultimatum he’d just been given. “Yes…”
“Great, then you can help me cook.”
Lightning Dust smiled, watching them head off into the kitchen before going upstairs. She rounded a corner and went through a wooden door adorned with her cutie mark. When she entered she was surprised at the state of her bedroom.
Her bed was made, her wardrobe and desk were both tidy and free of dust, the latter with a small pile of mail on it, and the trophies in her display case were all spotless. It warmed her heart to see her room had been kept clean in her absence, but the warmth vanished as her eyes settled on the most contentious of the room’s decorations.
Hanging by a hook and bathed in sunlight was a legless blue and gold uniform, a prominent tear in the left side. Lightning Dust’s eyes narrowed as she unconsciously rubbed a hoof against the overgrown fur on her chest.
Keeping her trainee uniform had been a tough decision at first. It was a painful reminder of being so close to achieving her dreams, and their brutal demise marked with tearing fabric and pulled fur. Over time though, it came to be a powerful motivator, especially after forming the Washouts. It had transformed from a symbol of failure into a constant reminder of what, and specifically who she was working against.
She turned away from it and headed into the bathroom. For now, a shower awaited her.
Rolling Thunder stirred a pan of soup, the smell making her mouth water. “How’s it coming over there?” She glanced over, seeing Short Fuse spreading some butter on bread.
“Don’t rush me, I’m working on it.” He muttered, tossing the bread on a griddle with a sizzle before putting cheese on them.
“It’s so nice to have Lightning Dust back. It just wasn’t the same without her.”
Short Fuse nodded, getting some plates out of the cabinet and setting them next to the griddle. “I know but even I could have outflown her, and I’m the weakest flier out of all of us.”
“She’s been in a cast for over two months, it’s natural she’d lose some muscle.”
As Short Fuse busied himself with setting the table, Rolling Thunder kept an eye on the sandwiches. “That’s why we’ll need to provide her with love and support during her rehabilitation. Just you wait, I think Dusty’s gonna bounce back faster than you think, and it starts with a good home-cooked meal.”
Lightning Dust stepped out of the shower, pulling a towel off the rack and draping it over herself.
While she had missed flying the most, it was many of life’s simplest pleasures that were a close second. The freedom of movement, a hot shower, and soon the ability to eat through her mouth.
She reached out a hoof and wiped the fog off the mirror, getting a good look at herself. Her overgrown fur wasn’t as shaggy as she expected, but it definitely still needed to be trimmed.
After getting herself completely dried off she started heading back downstairs. The scent of grilled cheese and tomato soup greeted her, and Lightning Dust found herself practically drooling in anticipation.
“There’s our favorite fluffy hairball. How ya feeling?” Rolling Thunder sat at her spot, gesturing her friend over. “I know you probably wanted one of my famous cheesesteaks, but your first solid meal after so long on a feeding tube should be something light.”
“Hey, something to look forward to, right?” She chuckled at her unintended rhyme and sat down, eyeing the food in front of her. She swallowed her drool before it could leak out, barely able to keep her appetite in check as she waited for Short Fuse to join them. As soon as he sat down, it was game on.
Rolling Thunder chuckled at the sight while she dipped her sandwich in soup. “Slow down there, Dusty, I don’t wanna have to heimlich ya.”
Lightning Dust blushed, seeing she’d eaten practically a quarter of her sandwich in just two bites. She sheepishly set it down, glancing over to Short Fuse. Whereas she’d eaten a quarter of her sandwich, he’d already eaten half. Normally she’d call Rolling Thunder out for hypocrisy, but something else drew her attention. Now that she was getting a good look at him, he seemed thinner than she remembered.
“Have you lost weight, Short Fuse?”
“Uh, a bit. I didn’t think it was too noticeable.” He looked uncomfortable, shifting around in his cloud chair like it was suddenly made of cheap, splintery wood. “I’ll probably gain it back now that you’re home again.”
She nodded, a bit relieved. He was still a healthy weight, and she was flattered she meant that much to him, but she didn’t like the idea of him losing weight over her absence. “I’m glad, and now that I’m home, I can share the plans I’ve been working on while I was in the hospital.”
“Oh?” Rolling Thunder leaned forward. “Do tell.”
“As much as it pains me to admit it, Spitfire was right: our motto of leap before you look was a recipe for disaster. You saw it with me, and if we keep going the route we are, it'll eventually happen again.”
“So what do we do, then? We’re stuntponies, we can’t just stop, or we’re nothing!” Short Fuse interjected.
Lightning Dust nodded in understanding. “Relax, we’ll still be a stunt team, but to avoid repeating our mistakes and take ourselves to the next level, we’ll have to fundamentally change how we perform. From now on our stunts will be designed to give the illusion of danger when in reality everything about it will be tightly controlled and thoroughly practiced beforehand.”
She dipped her sandwich and took another bite while she let them process that. The crisp bread, melted cheese, and tomato soup combined to form a heavenly taste that she was happy to savor before continuing.
Short Fuse gave a noise of discontentment. Stunts just weren’t the same without an element of danger to them.
“We’ll keep doing what works: we’ll keep doing shows on the ground to draw in as big of crowds as possible, not just other pegasi. We might also keep our eyes out for other talent to recruit. But the biggest change is that we’ll stop presenting ourselves as Wonderbolt dropouts, but as rivals.”
“Rivals, eh? I like the sound of that.” Rolling Thunder took a long drink from her glass. “But we’re already calling ourselves the Washouts. If we want to change the way you suggested, we kinda screwed ourselves with that name.”
“That name is now a placeholder. For us to be better, anything can and will be changed except for the three of us. What do you guys think?”
“I don’t like a lot of this!” Short Fuse looked right at her. “We’re meant to be different from the Wonderbolts, our own team, but what you’re suggesting will make us just like them!”
“I know, but hear me out.” Lightning Dust had prepared to handle this exact objection, and she’d gone over the reasoning to counter it several times in her head. Now it was time to say it aloud.
“I thought that at first, too, but if we want to be the best, some mimicry is inevitable. The Wonderbolts didn’t get to be Equestria’s number one aerial team by accident. Over the years they made mistakes along the way, mistakes we can learn from without having to make them ourselves. We should draw on the wisdom gained from these lessons, not ignore them purely out of spite.”
Rolling Thunder nodded along in agreement, but Short Fuse still didn’t quite seem convinced.
“Short Fuse, look at yourself.” Lightning Dust wasn’t going to beg, but she had other ways of getting through to her friends. “You’ve been so stressed while I was hospitalized it got in the way of you eating, and I can tell just by looking at you that you’ve lost weight. Do you really want to go through that again, or have one of us go through it if it’s you?”
Short Fuse sighed. He’d been backed into two verbal corners in less than an hour. “Alright, you win, I’ll give this a shot.” He stuffed another hunk of sandwich in his muzzle to muffle his discontentment.
“Well, now that that’s settled, what’s next on your little to-do list?” Rolling Thunder asked as she began to clear her plate.
Lightning Dust shrugged. “It’s still early afternoon, which gives me plenty of time to run some errands. First up is getting my fur trimmed.” She picked up her bowl and drank the last of the soup before Rolling Thunder took hers away, too. “I can take care of my own dishes, you know. Just because you’re the oldest doesn’t mean you have to dote on us so much.”
“Somepony’s gotta make sure you two remember to eat and get to bed at a reasonable hour.” She teased with a laugh. “Besides, I was already up. You need either of us to come with you?”
Lightning Dust wiped her mouth off, getting up from the table. “No, I’ll be alright. I made it from Ponyville to the house once, I can do it again. I’ll be back later.”
Author's Note
Next chapter we're going to see ponies besides the Washouts, I promise XD
Hope everyone is having a great day and I'm glad I got this posted just in time for the weekend! See you next time!
Lightning Dust's Third Act
Lightning Dust tightened the strap on her messenger bag, looking out over the edge of her lawn. Another advantage of cloud homes? The view. A view like this was only otherwise available to ponies in Canterlot or in hot air balloons, but even then it still wasn’t the same. Only the sharp vision of a pegasus let them take in every aspect of creation below. While she never tired of it, she had places to be.
Jumping off the end of the lawn she unfurled her wings and gave a hard flap to steady herself, settling into a gentle glide. As gravity slowly pulled her down she angled herself to circle Ponyville, starting to put together a list of things to do and places to visit. Getting her fur trimmed was at the top of the list, then there was the matter of mending some fences.
Of course there was Scootaloo. She could’ve been seriously injured or Celestia forbid killed if she hadn’t backed out. Besides, she shouldn’t have been running with them in the first place, she was just too young. But there were other ways she could be involved.
And then one of the hardest was going to be Rainbow Dash. Nearly making her friends plummet wasn’t cool, even if Dash had helped contribute to that tornado. And everything that happened with Scootaloo probably didn’t help. That fence didn’t just need to be mended, it needed to be completely redone.
And Spitfire? Lighting Dust grit her teeth, almost growling at the thought. That fence and the bridge it was attached to could burn to the ground for all she cared!
Next on her to-do list, she’d need to gather some specific herbs and ingredients. She’d heard a rhyming zebra on the fringes of the Everfree might have what she was looking for. If she did, Lightning Dust could get a lot started in one afternoon.
Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a school bell tolling. She looked down and caught sight of a vivid orange blur tearing out of the schoolhouse and through the road. Lightning Dust grinned seeing Scootaloo speed through Ponyville. Even if the kid couldn’t fly, she was still impressive.
She saw her dart into a house and made a mental note of its location. Seeing the ground approach she gave another flap of her wings to steady herself before she touched down in front of the barber. Having her first landing out of the hospital be a smooth one brought a smile to her face as she approached and pushed the door open.
A small bell tinkled as she entered, grabbing the attention of the barber. “Welcome, welcome. I see you’re in dire need of good grooming.” Barber Groomsby spun a chair towards her and began to dig through his drawers. “Please, have a seat!”
“Yeah, I really do.” She set her bag aside and got in the chair, but he didn’t bother draping a cape over her before spinning her to face the mirror. She closed her eyes as Groomsby started to mist her mane, getting to work with a comb and trimmer.
“I was wondering how long your recovery would take.” He remarked as he began carefully straightening and trimming her mane. “That was a nasty spill you had.”
“Oh, you know about that?” She cracked an eye open to see him beside her.
Groomsby was focused on shaping her wild mane back into something a bit more manageable, chuckling at her question. “Of course! It was all over the papers. Everypony in town knows about it, and probably a lot of ponies outside Ponyville, too.”
Lightning Dust’s face settled into a frown as the news sunk in. Her friends hadn’t told her about that. She cracked an eye to glance at the mirror and a thought crossed her mind. “Can you leave it longer in the back? Just trim it so it’s not all over the place.”
“Don’t want your old mohawk back?”
After a moment of thought she shook her head. “The less I look like a reckless daredevil the better.”
“You don’t have to explain yourself to me. I’ll leave you something you can style.” Groomsby expertly trimmed down her mane until it resembled something presentable, longer in the back just like she asked.
“Now comes the fun part,” he snickered, pulling out a pair of electric shears and getting to work.
She shivered as the cold metal clippers began to shave down her coat, trying to block it out. A headline like what he mentioned could go either way. Ponies loved a good comeback, but the idea that the stunts they did in the future were still dangerous might scare potential fans away. If that was the case, the Washouts would have to prove they’d changed to win back the trust of their fans.
An involuntary groan escaped her. Why in Equestria had she picked that infernal name?
The Washouts.
The ones who’d shout ‘leap before you look’.
The ones who seemed to have death wishes.
All just to be a mockery of another team.
That name was going to change, but to what? She’d had a lot of ideas while recovering, but none of them were good enough. It had to be perfect, something that set them apart besides just second to the Wonderbolts. There was still time to find a fitting name, however.
For the second time that afternoon she was pulled out of her thoughts, this time by the sound of the clippers being set on the counter. “All done, Ms. Dust.”
Lightning Dust looked herself over in the mirror, smiling at the pony who stared back. She hadn’t suffered any permanent scars from her accident, and she briefly wondered if that was because of something Doctor Horse had done. Besides that, she was definitely slimmer from some lost muscle mass. She’d have to weigh herself after her errands to see how much.
“How much do I owe ya, Groomsby?”
“For that trim and grooming? Ten bits altogether.”
Immediately reaching into her bag she pulled out the required bits, setting them on the counter. “Seeya later, I’ve got a friend to visit.”
Author's Note
Wow, three chapters to various stories in the span of a month, have I finally got my head together? Probably not but I'm glad to get this published anyways!
Thanks for sticking with me this far, and stay tuned to see what happens next!
Lightning Dust's Third Act
After exiting the barber shop, Lightning Dust made a beeline for the house she’d seen Scootaloo go in earlier.
As she walked, though, anxiety started to creep in. Scootaloo was a hair’s width from being the one to take the rocket ride and have the same consequences she did. Sure, she backed out but the thought still made her feel mildly ill.
She’d tried to compose what she’d say in her head, but there was honestly no telling how this would go. As she walked up the steps she felt her heart quicken and before she could have second thoughts she quickly knocked on the door. Some rustling could be heard inside before the door opened to reveal a brightly colored earth pony.
There were a few things she immediately noticed about the pony who answered: she was plump, at least a decade older, and definitely pissed off. “Of all the nerve, what are you doing here?”
Lightning Dust gulped, fiddling with the strap on her bag. “I’m here to see Scootaloo, please.”
Holiday narrowed her eyes into a glare. “Scootaloo isn’t here.” Without another word she moved to shut the door.
“Wait!” Acting on impulse, Lightning Dust put her hoof in the way, yelping as the door slammed down on it. “I wanted to tell her, and you, that I was sorry!” She clutched her hoof and looked up at the older mare, seeing Holiday fully opening the door now, her face switching from a glare, to confusion, finally settling on a disapproving look.
“I’m sorry that I didn’t ask if it was alright for Scootaloo to do that show with us, and for nearly putting her in danger.”
Holiday’s face seemed to soften a little bit, taking her hoof off the knob. “What are you hoping to accomplish here?”
“I’m hoping to mend fences with you and Scootaloo. We don’t need to be close; heck we don’t even have to be friends, but I don’t want us to be enemies.”
“Scootaloo’s too young to be doing stunts with you, Lightning Dust. You haven’t been out of the hospital that long, have you?” Holiday asked. “How did you even find where we live?”
“I just got out today, actually. I was going to get my fur trimmed, and I saw her leave the schoolhouse and come here.”
“That’s exactly my point,” Holiday’s look of disapproval intensified when she heard how she’d found their house, and that her earlier lie was pointless. “Your rocket accident left you bedridden for weeks, Scootaloo shouldn’t be doing anything like that.”
“Will you at least tell her I stopped by? I wanted to give her something.”
Holiday seemed to consider it, looking pensive before she eventually gave an exhausted sigh. “Let’s just get it over with.” Holiday saw the younger mare rubbing her hoof. She frowned, but her attention was drawn elsewhere when she heard a ding coming from the kitchen. “Come inside and I’ll get you an icepack.”
As Lightning Dust followed inside, a wave of nostalgia hit her as her eyes landed on the hoof-sewn quilt resting on the couch. It looked like the style of quilt she kept in her own living room, and from all the different colors and designs she could only guess how many hours went into it.
Her ear twitched at the sound of hoofsteps against wooden stairs, but her focus was still on the quilt until her eyes landed on Scootaloo’s cutie mark. Her concentration was only broken when a hoof poked her side. She turned and saw none other than the filly the cutie mark belonged to, unable to keep the smile off her face.
“Hey, kid. Been staying out of trouble?”
Scootaloo just stared for a few seconds until her question snapped her to attention. “Are you kidding? I’ve been in nothing but trouble since I was in your show. It’s just been school and home. When I saw the cast you were in I thought I’d be grounded forever.”
“Tell me about it, I’m still working some of the cricks out of my joints…” Lightning Dust muttered until what the filly said clicked in her brain, “Wait, they tied your punishment to my recovery time? And when did you see me?”
“Dash took me to visit you. She wanted to show me what I was close to ending up in, and my aunts thought I needed to be shown how long I would’ve been in it. But you were asleep so we didn’t stay long.”
“Even if you had woke me up, you wouldn’t have been the worst visitors I had.”
“Who was?”
“Spitfire,” Lightning Dust grit her teeth, almost trembling in her seat. “She came into my room and it wasn’t to see how I was or wish me a speedy recovery. No, she was there to belabor the state of my body to me and tell me how much of an idiot I was as if I wasn’t painfully aware of it every second I was stuck in that bed!”
It was only after she finished she realized her voice had definitely elevated, taking a breath before continuing. “At least you two didn’t kick me while I was down.”
“You think that’s bad? She practically gave me whiplash trying to tell me I’d end up in a full body wing-and-hoof cast drinking through a straw. She’s got some issues.”
“Tell me about it.” Lightning Dust agreed, shaking her head in disbelief.
“Cookies are done,” Holiday announced as she came into the room with a tray of chocolate chip cookies, three glasses of milk, and an ice pack which she immediately handed to her guest. “Is there any swelling?”
“No, just bruising.” She took the ice pack and used a wing to hold it against her hoof, shivering slightly as her primaries chilled.
“Most ponies know better than to put their hoof in the way of a closing door, Lightning Dust,” Holiday chided. “I’d have thought you’d learned your lesson about being so careless.”
“I have, but if I hadn’t done that we wouldn’t be having this conversation.” She couldn’t help the brief smirk at her verbal victory, but it didn’t last long. “If there’s one thing I learned while spending two months being completely unable to move, it’s that I never want to do it again.”
“Touche,” Holiday admitted before both mares took a cookie.
Scootaloo was finishing her first one while they spoke before joining in. “It must’ve been really boring being stuck in that cast.”
“Tell me about it,” Lightning Dust said through a mouthful of cookie before she washed it down with a drink of milk. “If it weren’t for my friends and the support I got from Doctor Horse, I woulda gone stir-crazy looking at the ceiling and listening to the clock ticking all day.”
Holiday offered the younger mare a small smile. “I’m sure your parents were very relieved to see you up and walking again.”
Lightning Dust shifted in her seat, caught off guard by Holiday’s innocent presumption. “No, my friends picked me up after I was all better.”
Her response made Scootaloo’s expression fall, gently nudging her side to get her attention. “They did visit you, right?”
Seeing as any response other than a yes would just bring up more questions, Lightning Dust cut to the chase. “Look, kid, I don’t have a family the same way you do. I never met my parents, I was raised by my meemaw, but she passed away not that long ago. For a little bit, it was just me, but when I met Rolling Thunder and Short Fuse, I learned that family isn’t just blood, it’s also those you love. I know it sounds crazy but-”
“No, I understand more than you think,” Scootaloo interrupted. “Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle are like sisters to me, and Rainbow Dash agreed to be my honorary big sister when she took me under her wing, so I get it.”
Lightning Dust smiled, giving her mane a playful ruffle. “Thanks, Scoots. Fitting you two are honorary sisters, you’ve got a lot of her in you.”
“For better or worse,” Holiday chimed in, though she was admittedly grinning at the wholesome sight, “but before anything else, didn’t you have something you wanted to tell her?”
“Yeah, I wanted to tell you I was sorry I almost put you in danger. Honestly, I never should’ve let you in on it, and if you hadn’t backed out I’d have been buried under criminal charges or buried by Rainbow Dash.” Lightning Dust shuddered at the thought before continuing. “And that brings me to the next thing to apologize for: I’m going to have to kick you off active duty until you’re of age.”
“Off active duty? Not off the team?” Scootaloo asked.
“Yeah. If you want, you’d be a reserve member until you turn eighteen, then you’d be able to do shows with us again. We’d keep your spot for you.”
Scootaloo raised an eyebrow. “Why are you concerned about age now?”
“Our insurance premiums were already ridiculous. Between letting a minor onto a show and my accident, I’m dreading finding out what they are now.” Lightning Dust admitted with a nervous chuckle. “But until then, I’ve got something for you.”
Setting her ice pack aside, Lightning Dust used her wing to pull open her bag before reaching a hoof inside, coming out with a black card that she passed to the filly beside her. “For whenever you want to come see us.”
Scootaloo watched her take another cookie before looking at the card in her hooves. It was a season pass, but the expiration date had been crossed out, the word Forever written in its place, Lightning Dust’s initials beneath it.
“Hope you like it,” Lightning Dust said after giving the filly a few seconds to examine it. “Consider it a consolation prize until you’re old enough.”
“I’m not sure I want to be on your team, even when I am older,” Scootaloo replied. “You said you’re going to be safer, but I don’t know if I believe that yet.”
“You have several years to think about it.” Lightning Dust didn’t miss a beat, taking a big drink of milk. “And if you don’t believe me now, maybe you will if you see us next season.”
Holiday watched the two younger pegasi with a certain amount of curiosity. She wasn’t sure how she was expecting from Lightning Dust, but it certainly wasn’t this. Everything she’d heard about her was universally negative, but then again it had all come from Rainbow Dash, so maybe she should’ve taken it all with a grain of salt. Who she saw talking to her niece certainly didn’t appear to be a dangerous mare with no regard for her own safety or the wellbeing of others. She was brought back to reality when Lightning Dust stood up, setting her ice pack on a coaster.
“As fun as this is, I need to get going. I have a few more errands to run before the day is out.”
“Where are you going?” Scootaloo asked.
“Need to see someone else while I’m in Ponyville, and maybe see if I can make it to a tailor. If not, there’s always tomorrow.”
Holiday offered her a warm smile. “Be safe, dear, and try not to hurt yourself again.”
“Thanks, Holiday. Hope to see you again soon, kiddo.” Lightning Dust slung her bag over her shoulder, giving Scootaloo’s mane one last affectionate ruffle before heading out the door.
As soon as she’d left Scootaloo looked at the card she’d been given. “I’m glad Lofty wasn’t here to see this, she’d never let me keep it.”
“She’d never have let her set hoof in the house.” Holiday corrected with a chuckle. “It’ll be interesting to see her reaction when we tell her about this.”
Author's Note
No time like way too long to update a story, and just in time for the holidays, too! Hope you all enjoy the adventure to come (if I ever get to writing it lol)
Lightning Dust's Third Act
Short Fuse barged into his bedroom and kicked the door shut behind him with a sharp noise. He marched over to one of the cloud tables, grumbling as he pulled a record out of its sleeve and set it on the player, moving the needle into place.
“Stupid idea… Open to other top talent? The whole point of this team is that we don’t need to be top talent to draw a crowd…” Short Fuse muttered to himself as he started the turntable, soft orchestral music filling the room. He took a deep breath in through his nose and held it for just a second before exhaling through his mouth, a chunk of tension going with it.
Short Fuse quietly hummed along to the sound of his record player, letting the classic orchestral music soothe his frazzled nerves. He looked around the room, his tension replaced by a smile.
From the soft colors and action figures displayed on the wall to some of the room’s other decorations, it could make an outsider think it was for a pony a decade younger. It was just how Short Fuse liked it. A space all his own, a space where he was free of any outside stress, and as his eyes landed on the easel stand in the corner he felt anticipation welling up inside him. A space where he could create personally rather than professionally.
He strolled across the room, stepping from the plush cloud carpeting to a more sturdy cloud tarp. His smile began to stretch further as he picked up his paint smock and draped it over his neck, ensuring it was smoothed out over his front and back. Pairs of gloves for his hooves and wings followed suit.
The next few minutes were spent squeezing various paint colors onto the pallet, before finally grabbing it with a wing and setting a blank canvas on the stand. Short Fuse felt his tail swish to the music as he worked, occasionally wiping excess paint on his smock, alternating between using his brush and his free wing.
As he worked three distinct ponies began to appear on the canvas. The only three that mattered to him. Short Fuse looked at each pegasus on the painting before his eyes landed on a blank spot and he thought of that filly. Sure, she’d only been with them one show and hadn’t actually done anything, but she had been one of them nonetheless.
He glanced at his palette; it wouldn’t be hard to mix up colors to match hers, but with the setting that was coming together he decided against it. He could always put her in something later if Lightning Dust was serious about adding her to the team for real.
For now, he grinned as he shifted to adding more details to the background. Falling streams of rainbows were carefully added color by color, settling into multicolored lakes surrounded by lush green grass. A pair of saddlebags were layered over each of them, white puffy clouds above.
“Looks lovely, dear.” An accented voice whispered right in his ear.
Short Fuse squeaked in surprise and nearly dropped his brush. It took all his self-control not to jump and ruin the painting, fighting to keep his wings down as he gripped hard on the brush. He wheeled around, nearly clipping Rolling Thunder as she couldn’t help but laugh. He gave her a sharp glare, resisting the urge to dye her coat a multitude of colors.
“You know I hate it when you sneak up on me like that, especially when I’m working! You do know this paint is a pain to get out of your fur, right?”
“That squeak was so cute it’d be worth it!” Rolling Thunder’s laughter calmed to chuckling. She couldn’t see it, but she’d bet her bottom bit he was blushing, even if he was glaring at her. “You stormed off right after lunch, thought I’d give you a few minutes to cool off before I checked in on ya.”
“I’m fine.” Short Fuse muttered before turning back to his latest project.
“No, you’re not. You always say you are but you’re easier to read than a foal’s bedtime story. So come on, tell me what’s wrong.”
“Look, I get what Lightning Dust says that we need to be safer, but open to other ponies?” He struggled to keep his hoof from trembling as he returned to his painting. “It’s not fair. It was our blood, sweat, tears, and bits that got this team going, and now some random strangers get to come in and reap the benefits? That's not right.”
“We were strangers until Dusty and I invited you to join us for lunch in the weather factory. Every relationship starts with something.”
Short Fuse paused mid-brushstroke, thinking about what she said before setting the brush down and walking over to his mini fridge. He pulled open the door and grabbed a jug of milk, a bottle of chocolate syrup, and a stack of cloud cups. Setting two cups on the counter, he started pouring milk into them.
“Our team dynamics are like cups of milk with a bottle of chocolate syrup: the fewer cups there are, the sweeter things are,” He added some syrup before setting two more cups on the counter and pouring in them, too. “But the more cups of milk the syrup has to go in, eventually…” The sugary treat stopped on cup number three, and despite Short Fuse squeezing it for all it was worth, not another drop came out.
“Then we’ll get another bottle of it, Fusie. Too much of it in too few cups tastes nasty, too,” Rolling Thunder smirked as she watched him stir up two of the glasses, accepting one of them when he offered it out to her. “Besides, any new ponies we get won’t get any of our stash. They may get some strawberry syrup or butterscotch, but the chocolate we’ll save for just the three of us.” She said with a wink.
Short Fuse thought for a moment before he deflated, sighing in resignation. He was doomed to lose every argument today, it seemed. “How do you always know just what to say?”
“I’m the oldest of four, love. I know how to persuade stubborn ponies,” Rolling Thunder smirked as she took a drink from her cup, staring out the windows. “I can see why you went for the floor-to-ceiling choice, quite a view.”
“Yeah,” Short Fuse’s smile gradually returned as he continued to work on the painting. “I’m thinking of putting this one in the living room once it’s done, what do you think?”
“Painting of the first picnic the three of us shared in the first space we shared together… I like it.” Rolling Thunder grinned as she reminisced about the picnic they’d shared at Rainbow Falls, but it soon turned into a smirk as her thoughts shifted towards their once-shared-bedroom turned living room.
As the two pegasi began to quietly enjoy each other’s company, Rolling Thunder sat on the edge of the room and leaned against the wall, the soft but sturdy cloud wall cradling her back. She sipped on her chocolate milk while listening to the orchestral music and watching her friend paint. The moment was only interrupted when the record ended, but as soon as Short Fuse had flipped it over a new song began.
She glanced out the window, enjoying the view until a new sight caught her eye. “Short Fuse, come with me, Dusty's in trouble.”
Author's Note
Hello everyone! Wow, I know it may not feel like it, but for me these chapters are coming out fast! I hope you're having as much fun reading it as I am writing it. I hope you all have a great day and I hope you tune in next time~
Lightning Dust's Third Act
“Ok, now I am thinking about backing out.”
Lightning Dust looked at the so-called president of her fan club. Seeing the fear and shrunken pupils under Scootaloo’s lifted visor, she knew there was no way she’d go through with it. She huffed in annoyance, weighing her options.
Her gaze drifted to the bright red button begging to be pushed. She could give Scootaloo some involuntary encouragement, but another look at her scared eyes dismissed that idea. The crowd was expecting a show, the wagons were already lit up, and now her latest recruit had frozen up on her. “Fine, I’ll do it. Move over.”
Scootaloo didn’t need any further prompting to hop off the scooter, and as soon as Lightning Dust was standing on it she slammed her hoof down on the ignition. The rocket lit up and shot her forward, taking her down the hill. The rush was exhilarating, adrenaline and endorphins flooding into her system and setting every nerve ending alight.
Lightning Dust braced herself as the rocket shot up the ramp, suddenly feeling weightless as she went airborne. This was the feeling she craved, the feeling of weightlessness, the euphoria that came from skirting danger by a hair’s breadth. She turned to the crowd and waved, feeling a manic grin the whole time. When she looked at her friends she raised an eyebrow. They were shouting something she couldn’t make out and pointing at something ahead of her.
As soon as she looked she understood why, seeing the rocket pitching forward and heading towards the ground much faster than it had gone airborne. The euphoric afterglow shattered as she put her forelegs in front of her face moments before impact and everything went dark.
Lightning Dust bolted upright, kicking off her covers and panting as she looked herself over. It wasn’t the first time that memory had jolted her awake, but it hadn't got any easier. Seeing she was perfectly fine calmed down some and stood up, realizing she’d been asleep for more than just a nap. Her room was dark, the only light coming from the moonlight pouring in through the window.
“I slept all through the evening?” Lightning Dust asked and her stomach growled in response, confirming she hadn’t eaten in some time. It was an awkward hour, but with the shot of adrenaline that dream had given her, sleep wouldn’t come again for some time.
She made her way to the door intent on going to the kitchen but as soon as she opened it she saw a tray of food had been left there. After a moment of surprise she scooped it up and took it back into her room, setting the tray on her desk. She plopped down on the cloud chair and began to eat the sandwich she’d been left, making a mental note to thank Rolling Thunder in the morning.
As soon as her late dinner was done she set the tray aside and grabbed her trusty letter opener, turning her attention to the stack of mail on her table. Junk mail, some autograph requests she was happy to fulfill, but as she reached the bottom she was stunned seeing an envelope with an all too familiar shade of blue. She instantly recognized the Wonderbolts logo dominating the front, but the novelty stamp and the cutie mark printed on it were what caught her eye. She knew who it belonged to the moment she saw it.
“Soarin?” Lightning Dust asked in disbelief, blinking to make sure she wasn’t seeing things. Her eyes went to her torn trainee uniform then back to the envelope. Her curiosity winning out, she sliced the top and pulled out and unfolded the letter.
Hey Lightning Dust!
If you’re reading this you’re back home and hopefully all better! Sorry I couldn’t visit you in the hospital, the rest of our season kept me too busy. You sure know how to give your fans a finale (and probably some foal therapy bills from what I heard)
Our season’s probably gonna be over by the time you read this, and I’m looking forward to seeing my mom back home. I wanted to wish you the best and I hope to see you flying high again soon. By the way, if you want to write me back, the return address isn’t my reply address. It’ll be at the bottom of the page.
Hope to hear from you! Soarin
Lightning Dust couldn’t keep the smile off her face. She could feel the excited energy he’d written to her with, and pulled out a paper and envelope as she began to pen her reply.
Hey Soarin!
I’ll admit I’m surprised a Wonderbolt wrote to me. I’m back home now but I have a long way to go before I’m back to my old self again. Just today I couldn’t make the trip from Ponyville to home more than once without help.
The first days in the hospital were really scary. My eyes were swollen shut so when I woke up in that cast I couldn’t see, move, or speak. I honestly wondered if that was what it’s like to be dead until Doctor Horse came in. It took a few days before I could open them again.
Once he told me what had happened I calmed down but the boredom almost made me wish for death. Just lying there helplessly listening to the clock ticking all day, I’d have gone insane if my friends didn’t visit as often as they did.
I’m glad you’ll get to see your mom again. I’m not judging here, I stayed with my meemaw well into my adult years. Tell her I said hi and I hope to hear from you again.
All the best, LD
Her face mirrored the same excitement Soarin had written her with as she folded her letter, grabbed a black and green envelope, and stuffed it inside. Lightning Dust checked his letter and wrote down the reply address before carefully peeling a novelty stamp with her own cutie mark and placed it on the corner before setting it with the other mail to be sent out. Once she was finished she reached for another piece of mail, but her hoof only meant densely packed cloud.
Lightning Dust leaned back in her chair, debating on her next move. She wasn’t tired, her recurring nightmare and the accompanying shot of adrenaline had seen to that. She glanced outside at the calm night. A short flight sometimes helped her get to sleep, but today’s near-miss and the ache in her wings ruled that out too.
Her eyes went to her saddlebag and its contents, but it wasn’t time for that either. Her body wasn’t ready for that yet and the supplies would keep until then. She huffed in frustration as she got up and marched over to her bed, flipping down on top of the covers. Settling in her eyes slowly closed.
As she focused on relaxing her body her mind was racing. Soarin, one of the most prominent Wonderbolts, had written to her. Right alongside Spitfire he was the most recognizable and although she didn’t know his official standing in the organization it’d be an easy bet he was right behind his hotheaded captain. It wasn’t anything serious, just some friendly well wishes, but it still made her smile. At the very least she figured she owed writing him back just to let him know she got it, but the thought of him writing to her again made her smile widen.
With that thought squared away she was left alone with only the moonlight and silence for company. Her mind was still too alert to go back to sleep, and counting sheep was too tedious for her liking. Instead, her thoughts began to drift to when she was first learning to fly, when she was learning the most fundamentals of it.
The first thing you will learn in Junior Speedsters flight camp is the most important lesson you will ever learn about flying. There is only one absolute law that governs anything with wings: takeoff is optional, landing is mandatory. Gravity may only be resisted, never broken free of.
With that said, there is only one way to land, the safe way, back hooves followed by fronts. We will be going over technique and form long before you ever try to soar above the clouds. So pay attention, class is now in session.
Those were some of her first memories of flying, and while the other fillies and colts groaned, Lightning Dust’s attention was glued to the instructor and all he had to teach. While a terrible memory had woken her up, Lightning Dust eventually fell back asleep to a more pleasant one.
Author's Note
Since this story essentially replaces Crashing To Rock Bottom, I borrowed some lines from it for this chapter and I'm glad with how it turned out.
So Soarin is writing to Lightning Dust, eh? Let's see where this could go.
Lightning Dust's Third Act
6: Catch You When You (Almost) Fall
Lightning Dust wiped sweat from her brow, panting as she struggled with her own weight and the weight of her bag. Zecora had been helpful, although she’d loaded the pegasus down with a heavy burden. Her wings ached with each stroke, and now the idea of looking down at the world below filled her with dread instead of wonder. She could distantly make out her home like a lighthouse to a ship at sea, complete with the evening sun in her eyes, but her tired body would not stop protesting.
Look at you! You’ve ruined yourself, and for what?
Lightning Dust shook her head, trying to dislodge those words. She wasn’t about to fail, not when she was so close, but her wings and lungs burned as they struggled to keep her aloft.
Your road to recovery is going to be long and painful, if you ever fully do!
"SHUT UP!"
Her teeth clenched as she shoved Spitfire out of her thoughts, a lesson from her meemaw replacing it.
The mind is stronger than the body, and tired and weak are merely states of mind. The body is capable of more than it seems if your mind is in it, too.
Lightning Dust focused on steadying her breathing even if her lungs burned in demandment. She shifted her attention from her aches and fatigue to the target ahead, the pain slowly subsiding as she headed forward.
As she flew she adjusted the strap on her bag. If she’d known she’d be carrying this much weight on the way back she would’ve just gone for a full pair of saddlebags. At least the weight distribution would’ve been better than all to one side.
Though her focus was on making it home the strap digging into her shoulder nagged at her, and the protests of her body were getting harder to ignore. Her eyes scanned the sky looking for any nearby cloud she could land on to catch her breath, but the closest was still her original destination.
She shut her eyes, her body starting to go on autopilot as she contemplated her options. If she glided back down to Ponyville, maybe she could rest up long enough to get back. Of course, there was the matter of how long it’d take, and she'd have to start this whole trip over with the same burden. Not like she had enough bits left for a hot air balloon or an inn, either.
And all of that was assuming she could keep her wings open long enough to make it down.
Her body interrupted her thoughts, the pain and ache getting to be too much. She could already feel herself starting to lose altitude, and as she held her wings out she could feel them cramping. If she couldn’t hold out she’d be asking Doctor Horse for that mint on her pillow not a day after she left. A shudder ran through her at the thought of being back in that wretched hospital.
My advice is to use this time to think about how you got here, and how you can avoid coming back here again. You’ve got plenty of it, after all.
Lightning Dust grimaced, imagining what Spitfire would say to her this time.
Just before her body gave out she felt herself being grabbed around the barrel, opening her eyes to see a cloud shoved under her before she was dropped on it. Lightning Dust bounced once before landing, the cushy cloud contouring to her form. She finally allowed herself to relax, her wings searing where they were attached and aching throughout. With great difficulty she rolled onto her back and stared up at the sky as she took several greedy breaths, trying to quell her racing heart. Rolling Thunder’s displeased visage came into view hovering a few feet above her.
"Thanks…"
“We’ll talk more when we get home.” Rolling Thunder flew out of view as Short Fuse landed beside her. He leaned in like he was going for a kiss, but he bit down on the bag strap and carefully untangled her from it.
"Geez, what’ve you got in here?"
Lightning Dust didn’t answer, content to lie on the plush cloud and catch her breath as the fatigue set in. The cloud shifted and started moving while Short Fuse sat beside her, the sight of him wearing his stained smock making her smile as she idly wondered what he’d been working on. The motion gently rocked her back and forth as the cloud was being pushed.
Her breathing started to even out, her heart settling down with it. Between the ultra-soft texture against her body and the gentle rocking it provided, she found it hard to keep her eyes open. Lightning Dust didn't fight it and soon she’d managed to doze off.
Short Fuse’s eyes widened seeing how quickly Lightning Dust fell asleep. His first thought was to let Rolling Thunder know, but she’d see for herself when they got home. His gaze fell on the messenger bag and his curiosity tempted him to look inside, but he decided not to go snooping.
Soon enough their cloud was fitted back into place on the lawn as Rolling Thunder landed beside Short Fuse. She looked at her friends and sighed to herself, her voice dropping to just above a whisper. "Short Fuse, please take that up to her room.”
He sighed in turn but complied nonetheless. Shortening up the strap he threw it over himself, grunting as he carried it into the house. As soon as he was out of sight, Rolling Thunder turned toward Lightning Dust. She considered waking her, letting her know just how close she was to disaster, but after a moment decided that lecture could wait until she woke up.
Rolling Thunder went to work gently maneuvering Lightning Dust onto her back. Bracing herself, she stood back up but was surprised at just how little resistance there was. She chuckled briefly, musing that she might’ve accidentally given Short Fuse the harder task.
As she headed inside and up the stairs she kept her movements slow and careful not to jostle her passenger, and soon enough she’d reached her room. She noted the bag set beside the desk before pulling back the covers and carefully moving Lightning Dust into her bed. Pulling the covers over her she offered her younger friend a quick nuzzle before heading out the door.
