Wednesday, September 3rd, 908 AB

Title Search wakes up slowly the next morning. The warmth of a small body wrapped around her and the smell of a young colt helps her brain piece together where she is. Turning her head she looks out the window to see that the first rays of dawn are just peeking over the horizon. Glancing down she can still see the little miracle is sprawled out over her belly, head resting on her chest. The steady breathing from his snout slowly draws her fur in, then gently pushes it back away. She always wanted a little colt of her own, but the odds of ever having one are… well, not the best. Only about one in five foals are males, of course, so barring a bit of good luck she’ll probably end up with at least a few little fillies before her first colt comes along. That’s fine with her, though. She only had one sibling growing up, and with a good, stable family there really isn’t a huge rush on things, especially if Cure’s ideas pan out.

Everything is looking good right now for the future of the herd and she isn’t completely sure she shouldn’t feel at least a little guilty because some of it may be coming at the cost of the colt’s foalhood. From what he explained the other night, he lost both parents and a son over the course of seven years, then had to watch his mate die before him while barely getting enough air to keep on going. It’s no wonder he didn’t survive long without her. She can’t even imagine having to watch either of her mates suffer and pass like he had. A pony can only take so much, after all… even if they’re not a pony. There’s obviously a lot more similarities between ponies and humans than there are differences.

Title can barely wrap her head around the fact that the colt on her is actually twice her age, in a way. She gets it. It's undeniable. No pony as young as him would know what he knows. Title fancied herself a pretty well learned mare, but Cure threw words and concepts around that were beyond anything she'd heard come out of anypony's mouth before.

Deed was no dummy; if he was she wouldn't be with him, no matter how successful he was financially. He played the joker plenty and he couldn't keep a file cabinet organized to save his life, but she was confident he could sell cooling crystals to a yak if he had his head in the game. He might as well be an uneducated yokel compared to his son, though.

Vines, bless her beautiful heart, wasn’t as educated as either Deed or herself. She was still smart as anypony, but she obviously felt she had all the education she needed and, to her credit, she really can’t say that Vines was wrong. She knows everything she needs to raise foals, take care of the house, and is plenty capable of maintaining her little garden. She can cook, keeps the house clean, and contributes more than expected whenever she goes to the market. Now that their family situation is stable and they’re both going to be having more foals, Vines will be pulling her own weight and then some.

Cure, though… special didn't even start to cover it. He had about as many years of education as his parents have been alive. He remembers a culture where knowledge and the ability to use it could make or break somepony. And here he was snuggled into her like any adorable colt. Barely over eight and already wearing a mark that most ponies would be ecstatic to earn at any age. It takes a pony years of learning and work to become a qualified doctor, and for unicorns it requires a whole host of diagnosis spells that nopony else would normally bother learning.

Cure’s accomplishment didn’t sound like much, just cleaning up a small bruise and all, but Title knew enough to recognize how absurd that really was. There are no magic spells that could safely “heal” a pony. Period. There are spells to set bones, suture flesh, assist in surgery, and so forth… but to flat out heal a pony? Without a cutie mark specifically for that nopony would even know where to start… and she’d never seen a healing cutie mark in her life. He obviously has a whole mountain of stuff to learn, but from their conversation the other day he seems like just the pony for the job.

Gently rolling to her side, she lowers him down onto the bed. His ears are laying limp, but he still paws at her to make sure she is still there. Leaning down she starts grooming him, licking and nuzzling his mane to get it into some sort of style. Once that's done she starts on his ears, then the matted down fur on his neck and cheeks. It's only when she gets him mostly cleaned up for the day that he finally stirs and lets out an adorable little yawn. Rolling onto his back he stretches all of his legs as far as they can go until they’re quivering, then folds up with his little hooves curled on his chest. Not one to pass on such an invitation, Title gives his tummy a few gentle nibbles and licks to get his fur in order, all the while he starts squirming, then giggling under her ministrations.

“Good morning, sleepyhead. How’s the cutest little colt in all of Equestria today?”

“Blerg.”

“So eloquent, too,” she giggled. “Sleep well?”

“Yeah, mom,” he said as he snuggled back into her. “Slept like a baby. You?”

“Sure did. Your sire doesn’t snore often, but when he does. Oof.” She shakes her head. “And don’t even get me started on your dam. She’ll rattle a window right out of its frame.”

“Huh… they don’t stop breathing when they’re snoring, do they?”

“No, honey. I’m mostly just teasing. They just wear themselves out and then they’re out like a light.”

Title paused and considered whether she wanted to ask him something. He could see the gears turning in her head, so he just laid there waiting. Finally, he simply raises an eyebrow and asks her, “What are you thinking about, mom? I told you yesterday, you can ask me anything. I won’t keep anything from you, ever, unless it somehow puts somepony’s safety at risk… probably even then.”

“I was wondering if you’d be willing to look at the foal. I’m sorry if that’s too much, Cure, but since it’s my first and everything I just want to be sure everything is going well.”

“I can look. Really, it’s no problem. I’m not sure how to word it exactly, but the bottom line is I’ll try to keep everything related to that as professional as you’d expect from your own doctor. Humans took medical privacy incredibly seriously. Medical professionals could lose their licenses to practice their profession or, if it was a serious enough offense, could end up fined or even in prison. I don’t know what pony laws are like, but I’d only ever break my silence under the most extreme of circumstances. Like if a pony was a genuine threat to themselves or others.”

Cure sits up and puts his hooves on Title. She leans back so she’s half on her side, half on her back. Before starting, he looks over to her again just to make sure she’s okay with this. “Just keep in mind that I don’t know how not to look at everything. You know I definitely got more than I bargained for with dad yesterday. Are you sure you’re completely comfortable with all your business being laid out before me? It’s a pretty big invasion of privacy, you know.

“Sure, go ahead. I trust you completely, sweetie.”

Cure nods and begins focusing on his magic. “Okay, so the way I understand this worked with dad is that my aura kind of meshed in with his. I’m assuming you’ll feel that. I’m betting a pony could just flat out not let me in if they tried. I’ll need help experimenting with that at some point. You’ll have to kinda let our auras merge together, I think, so don’t push back against me here if you feel anything.”

Repeating the process he went through with Deed, Cure visualizes a copy of Title standing before him. Focusing on her womb and the life growing inside of it, he wills away the layers of fur, skin, bone, and other organs until he has a good view of her womb and the foal.

He can see the fetus, or at least what he thinks would be considered a fetus in a human. He doesn’t really know the pony terminology, but regardless he can see it sitting there inside Title. Without the experience of an ultrasound technician or a prenatal gynecologist or whoever the hell the right person would be he’s somewhat at a loss.

Well… it’s a thing. I can say that safely at this point. She’s definitely pregnant with some… form of life, I guess. Way to solve the mysteries of the universe, Cure.

“Well, I don’t honestly know what I should be seeing. I can tell you're pregnant, but you’re so early on that the … is fetus the right term for ponies too?” he pauses to ask Title. At her nod he continues, “OK. Thanks. Ugh, so much to learn. Anyhow, I can see the fetus. You’re at… what? About four and half months?”

“Yep, I think this weekend will be the start of week nineteen, assuming I conceived towards the end of spring estrus. I know sometimes it can actually take a few days later, but I could tell there was a difference almost the very next day.”

“Okay. Well, like I said, I don’t know what a fetus should look like right now. Humans have a machine called an ultrasound that could show us what a developing fetus looks like. I'm pretty sure you're at the point where they would do that, but there would be a dedicated technician whose full time job is reading those things. With my non-existent training and absolutely minimal knowledge about fetal development I’m hesitant to say. I don't see an obvious... appendage, but for all I know that doesn't pop out for a while, so it could still be either a boy or a girl.” At her amused look he rolls his eyes, “filly or colt. You know what I mean,” he scowls at her.

“So anyhow,“ he continues, “congratulations. You’re pregnant.” he nods decisively. “With, presumably, a pony no less. I know this is amazing news for you, and I’m glad you’re already lying down for it.”

Title giggles at his antics while giving him another nuzzle. “Well I’m sure your dam and sire will be thrilled to find out, Cure,” Title teases while sitting back up. “How about we use the potty and scrub our hooves and clean up, then go get something to eat? Filly or colt, either way, the little one is calling the shots right now.”

After the morning routine Cure goes down to find Vines and Deed are still getting ready in their room. Or getting busy, either way he’s not going to investigate. Asking for some help (basically, “you do the work while I give instructions”) from Title he offers to mix up the batter for some french toast. She says she doesn’t recognize the name despite the fact he was just waiting for her to say something like “oh you mean PRENCH toast? LOL PONEEZ” or something.

"So this will use up the rest of the bread. I think four eggs should be plenty. I'll also need about a half teaspoon of vanilla extract, a half cup of milk, a couple tablespoons of brown sugar, and a bit of cinnamon, a little nutmeg, some butter for the pan, then powdered sugar… or confectioner's sugar, same diff, to sprinkle on top. We'll want some maple syrup to pour over them like pancakes. Also if we have some fresh blueberries, blackberries, or raspberries they can be used as a topping… whipped cream is really good with the berries too. Ooh! Or Strawberries. I love those on french toast."

"Sounds fancy… and I think I’ve had something like that before. Will it take long to cook?" Title asks while gathering everything on the counter.

"No, depending on the pan size you can fry up two to four slices at a time. Or just heat up two pans if you don’t mind cleaning a second one. The egg is really the only thing that needs to be cooked, so you'll want to use the same heat and maybe just slightly more time than you would just cooking eggs by themselves. You can cook up half a loaf of bread in about six minutes with a big pan," he explains. “We had a griddle… a big, flat cooking surface that you can heat up all at once, and I would toss ten slices on there at time. Cyndi and I would usually have three and the kids only ate two most of the time. Sometimes we’d split a piece each so we’d all have two and a half slices when they got older. Or I’d just use a little more milk and add another egg and make a few extra. It was pretty useful because then we could all sit down and eat together,” he reminisced.

"Mix the egg, milk, brown sugar, vanilla, about a half teaspoon of cinnamon, and just a few dashes of nutmeg together in a shallow dish. Cinnamon won't really mix well, but some will soak in the bread. I always sprinkled a dash or two on the bread directly when it’s in the pan too, but Cyndi and the kids loved cinnamon, so…" he waves his hoof in a "there ya have it" motion.

"Anyhow, what you'll do is dip the bread slices in so some of the mixture soaks in. You don't want it totally saturated but if I estimated the mix right we should use just about all of it right when we're out of bread. Use too much and we’ll run out early and the bread will be a bit on the soggy side. Put a bit of butter in the pan and let it melt. That’ll keep them from sticking. Like I said, cook them at about the same temperature and time as an egg. You’ll want to flip them after about a minute or so. There should be three or so for each of us… ponies definitely eat more than humans. After you plate them, sprinkle some of the confectioner's sugar on for appearance more than flavor. The syrup and berries will add the sweetness," he added with a nod.

"I usually made bacon, sausage, or eggs with it but maybe we can cut up some bananas for some potassium and so we're not just filling up with nothing but carbs. We'll want something to kind of offset all that sugar and balance out the meal, after all. Plain yogurt maybe?" Cure thinks out loud. “I’m not really sure what all we have available.”

“Use the bananas up, sweetie. They’re getting a little ripe anyhow,” Vines called from the bottom of the stairs. Cure turned to see her and his sire just coming into view. “Morning, honey. Good morning, sweetie,” she greets Title and Cure with quick nuzzles and a kiss on the cheek. “It sounds like you’re making pan-fried breakfast bread. I haven’t cooked that up in a while. Never used brown sugar or nutmeg in mine, though. I’ll get the berries rinsed and dried, are you okay doing the bread itself, or do you want to trade?” she asks Title.

“I’ll get the bread ready. If you can get the berries ready that would be great. Deed, can you get some plates down and get the tea going?” Title called over her shoulder.

“Sure thing babe. I’ll get the table set and bring you a plate to stack the toast on. You want some milk for breakfast, sport?”

“Sure dad, sounds good, dad. I’ll just kind of stay out of the way. I don’t think you need me under your hooves,” Cure says as he takes his seat at the table.

Within about ten minutes the toast is cooked up, the table is plated, drinks are served up, and everypony is ready to dig in. To his delight, Title did a great job and, compared to his human taste buds, the flavor almost explodes in his mouth. From the quiet moans and satisfied smiles on everypony’s face he’s clearly not the only one enjoying the special treat.

“I have to say, mom… this is probably the best tasting french toast I’ve ever had. I know it’s a pretty simple recipe, but you cooked the toast just right too,” Cure exclaims to the mutual agreement from his dam and sire and Title’s beaming smile. He looks at Vines and asks, “Is there room in the garden for raspberries and strawberries, dam? I think with our magic growing trick we may want to see about expanding a bit. Also, how much of the land around the house is actually our property?”

There are neighbors a few hundred feet in either direction. The area is suburban, there’s no denying that, but since it’s a mostly earth pony town each lot is a lot bigger and more spread out than human suburbs would be. Hell, half the areas he drove through had houses so packed in neighbors could just about lean out their windows and hand something to each other.

Off the top of his head he estimates their lot to be about three acres, give or take.

The garden only looks to be about fifty feet… or fifteen meters to a side, so if I’m right we could make the garden nearly ten times as big if my parents want to. That may be more work than we can handle, though. Hoofle? Wait, no… Ponies don’t say that. Manage. More work than we could manage. Damn ponyisms.

Also, what the hell kind of grass is growing out there? Does grass in magical pony land somehow stop growing at just the right height? I’ve never seen a lawnmower in my life, but that lawn looks MANICURED… like some Homes & Gardens level shit or something. Where the hell are the dandelions, crabgrass, thistles, and all the other bullshit he had to deal with before? Ponies got it easy, man.

“We could certainly add on another section, sweetie. It’s a bit of work and we’ll need to get some supplies, but if everypony is willing to help with harvesting we can definitely add a section for some berries and other stuff. It’s a little late in the year to do that right now, though. What do you two think?” Vines asks while looking over to her mates.

“You’re the garden expert here, babe. If you think we should wait then we’ll do that. I don’t think the expense is a problem if we end up saving a lot on groceries and have more food for our growing family, but we do only have another month or so before it starts cooling off. Maybe we should get it ready in the fall so when spring rolls around we can plant and have more to eat next year. What do you think, babe?” Deed asks Title.

“Yeah, you’re probably right,” she says, sighing. She looks over to Cure and adds, “though I’d absolutely love to have fresh berries whenever we want your sire is right, honey. Also, you and your dam will be doing most of the work harvesting, so even if you can grow more keep that in mind. Harvesting is a lot of work, after all.”

“Uhh, actually we can just kind of “ask” the fruit to fall off the vines and stuff. You don’t need to really pick it all, ya know?” Cure asks.

Vines ears almost shoot through the ceiling at this. “WHAT?”

Jumping a little at his dam’s wide-eyed excitement, Cure explains, “Yeah, we should be able to use magic to harvest the fruit just like you were growing it. You remember I told you about the stories about Equestria’s future, right? Well one of the main characters in most of those is an Apple. She and her brother could basically commune with their trees and the apples would just fall off the branches into their waiting baskets. That is probably inaccurate or exaggerated, but there’s no reason I can think of that you couldn’t grab a fruiting vine, hold it over a basket, and basically “magic” the fruit right off.”

Deed and Title are just looking back and forth between the two. Deed is shocked at the revelation, but just quietly mulls that over in his head.

“Oh. My. Celestia. You absolutely must be joking, Cure. I swear if this works I’m going to … I don’t even KNOW. We have got to try this today, sweetie. I’m so excited!” And he can tell she clearly is. Just another “freakin Hasbro, man” moment. Cure can barely contain his laugh while looking at his dam. She’s sitting up with her hooves just alternating between her cheeks and a little clap move you remember seeing in the cartoon a few times. It looks like she is literally vibrating and Cure can tell it’s taking almost all her resolve not to run right out the door at this very moment to try it out.

I wonder if there’s ever been a pony that created a sonic rainboom at ground level. God she’ll level the whole neighborhood if she doesn’t calm her teats down a bit.

“Okay, dam, I know you’re excited, but when you’re doing magic control is key. With the way you’re vibrating I can almost picture the whole neighborhood covered in vines with melons and cucumbers as far as the eye can see. As hilarious as that would be, from a distance at least, I think that may draw just a tiny bit of attention,” he explains with a chuckle and the “calm down” motion.

“Son, I’m not sure if you understand,” Deed calmly explains. “Harvest time… well, it flat out sucks. There’s a reason a lot of towns have a big harvest festival with plenty of booze and partying. It’s because they’re done for the year and ready to thank Celestia they can finally take a break. If you’re saying you can basically wave a hoof and have the fruit or what-have-you just fall off you’re going to have farmers crossing the country to learn from you. No exaggeration there, at all, son.”

Now wide-eyed himself, Cure looks over to Title to confirm Deed’s right. At her insistent nods he can almost feel the pressure building on his withers.

“Oh. Well. Uhh, can’t really say I realized the full significance of this. I mean, I did tell you, “ he says as he turns to Vines, “that you could end up one of the most productive farmers ever, dam. I meant that. I’d be thrilled to work together to figure this out and, once we learn enough, you could grow enough food out there in that garden AND harvest it, to feed this family for the better part of the year, I bet. There’s some plants that this may not work on as well. Like wheat. I never farmed, but I know there’s a step involved called threshing where you have to basically beat the actual edible part out of a shell or something, right?”

“Yep, after you reap it you have to thresh it. When I worked on Auntie Bean’s farm I would help out with that sometimes. There's machines for it, but anytime one breaks down we'd be doing it by hoof. It takes a lot of ponies to harvest a field of wheat for bread and what-have-you and only bigger farms will have machines to speed it up,” Deed explains. “Between that, picking fruits, and pulling root veggies out of the ground you’re talking a loooooott of work,” he emphasizes.

“Well, I don’t think you could just suddenly make the root veggies shoot out of the ground. Probably. Terrakinesis could actually be in the earth pony repertoire, I think, so who knows? I mean, the name “earth pony” certainly implies it, right?”

Deed gets a far-away look as his mouth just kind of hangs open. Title is having a hard time not busting out laughing, both at her mate’s face and just at the overall situation. Vines is still dithering back and forth between finishing her breakfast and running out the door.

Cure, meanwhile, is lost in thought again and finally speaks up to break the silence. “Oh well, just another thing to experiment with. Given that all ponies seem to have this tactile telekinesis, “ he says as he holds a fork in his open hoof, waving it back and forth, “it wouldn’t surprise me one bit if it can be channeled through the ground at a distance. I already know we can affect plants at a short distance, so logic dictates it should be possible… may take a specific mark to achieve though.”

Vines impatience finally wins out. She absolutely devours the remaining bit of food on her plate, chugs the bit of tea she still had left, runs into the kitchen to deposit the plate in the sink, and just about shoots right out the back door towards her garden… all to the amused stares of her son and husband and the cackling laughter of her sister-wife.

“Well, there she goes. I sure hope we’re not about to see the vinepocalypse or something.” He pauses for a moment and casually adds, “At least we won’t starve.”

“Colt, I’ll tell you what, if she covers the land in darkness I’m absolutely blaming you. Just don’t forget that I still love ya, son, and I’ll visit you in the dungeons whenever I have a free moment.”

“Thanks, dad. I’ll look forward to the visits. Bring books, okay?” he asks, to Deed’s “you betcha, son.”

Both males ignore Title who, at this point, is basically rolling on the floor laughing her flanks off. Deed considers stealing her last slice of toast, but given that she’s carrying his foal he opts to, like any good father would, steal a quarter of a banana off of his son’s plate instead.

Meh, whatever. I’m basically full anyhow. I better go check on dam, though. I can still see the sun, so at least everything should be below window-height for now.

“I assume I’ll be a bit, so if I don’t see you before you head to work I hope you have a good day. Love you,” he says as he comes around the table and hugs both his parents. He just kind of glomps over Title for hers while she continues giggling from the floor. “Thanks for basically doing everything at breakfast, mom.”

“You’re welcome sweetie,” she stops her laughing to wrap him in a hug, “it was a very nice treat. Thanks for sharing it with us.”

“Yeah, that was delicious, son. Thanks a bunch!”

Cure gives a quick “you’re welcome” and takes his plate and empty cup to the counter by the sink. He heads out the back door to see if Audrey is out there yelling “FEED ME” already.

To his eternal relief he finds his dam holding up a vine laden with cucumbers over a basket. He approaches slowly, watching his dam work. Like yesterday, she starts glowing a beautiful azure color. It suffuses the vines in her hoof and saturates the cucumbers that look ready to be picked. Nothing seems to happen for several minutes until, with a quiet “plop” noise, a single cucumber falls off the vine. To his amusement, his dam lets out a small, surprised gasp. From there all the others follow until the vine has only a few left that clearly still have some growing to do.

Approaching from in front of his dam, Cure finally calls out to her. “Well, you certainly figured that out pretty quick. How’d it go?”

Beaming with a thousand watt smile, Vines answers, “It just… worked. I just did what you told me to do yesterday, but instead of encouraging them to grow I just kind of told them it was time for them to come off the vine. Once the first one came loose the others just followed like they were leaping to follow the leader. Look, honey!” She looks behind Cure who had heard the back door open behind him. Glancing over his withers he sees his sire and mom approaching.

Quickly grabbing another vine that’s ready to go, Vines lifts it up and partially sets it in the basket so the cucumbers don’t have more than a few centimeters to fall. She repeats the process and soon another pile of cucumbers is filling the basket up.

She looks up to the Property Duo, still smiling from ear to ear. “Cucumbers aren’t that bad to harvest, but just imagine if this vine was full of raspberries or grapes or something like that. A whole vine done in a few seconds instead of ten or twenty minutes! I didn’t even have to check to see if they were ripe and ready to go! I just felt it and asked them to let go! And they did!” Laughing, she scoops up Cure and wraps him in her forelegs while dancing in circles on her back legs. He would call it hysterical laughter, but it’s still a notch or two below that level.

7/10, would LOL again. Air would kick ass right now, though.

Title apparently agreed with his unspoken thought. “You may want to let the colt catch a breath there, Vines. I want my foal to have a big, strong older brother around to stand up for her, after all.”

“Yeah,” Deed adds in, “besides, I need him breathing at least until he can come to work and show me how I can get everything done while just waving my hooves around too, honey.”

“Always there for me ma, pa. Love you too!”

Deed just winks at the now-released colt and smiles.

“I do actually have some theories on how you could use your magic to help at work. It’s not quite as direct of an application as this has been,” he says, waving at the garden and basket of cucumbers, “but I’m thinking that cutie marks can kind of bypass some of the limitations we normally associate with magic. I suspect we can kind of use them as a focus, maybe. Do they have stories about magicians using wands as a focus instead of unicorn horns?”

“Uhh, not exactly, son, but I’ve heard of magical staves used to cast spells,” Deed replies.

“Okay, well what I’m thinking is that if you learn to channel your magic specifically through your mark you may gain some insight into whatever it is you’re working on. So for you, dad, the right thing to say to a potential client may come to mind or maybe you’ll just get that feeling again telling you where the perfect house would be for your customer… or the perfect customer for a house maybe. Guess it depends on if you’re representing the buyer or seller.”

He paused, turning to Title. “I suspect you’ll get a feeling, like something is compelling you to look in specific places for whatever it is you’re searching for. It’s right there on your mark. You find information, so if you use that as a focal point for your magic instead of your hooves I bet you’ll find whatever you’re looking for much more easily. Try it out and let me know how it goes.”

“Sure thing, honey…” Title pauses and looks at the sun, “we do need to get going, though. How about while we’re gone you work on your dam and see if you can’t conjure up a plant that literally grows bits?” she asks and reaches in one of her pouches. She withdraws a coin and holds it out to him saying, “Here, you can use this as a seed if you even need it.”

With a deadpan look, Cure ignores the guffawing from his father and the giggling from the mare on the ground and attempts to snatch the bit out of Title’s hoof. Sadly, his short legs just can’t get there before she pulls it back and sticks her tongue out at him.

“Yeah, son. There’s a field of grass right over there. How bout you just go look in its general direction and turn it into a gold mine or something. I’m sure you’ll figure it out if you put your mind to it.” Deed laughs as he picks up his son and gives him a big hug and nuzzle. Title leans over and gives him a quick nuzzle and peck on the cheek, then does the same with Vines before Deed sets his son back down.

“We’ll see you later. Try not to show up on any front pages anywhere while we’re working, okay?” Title calls over her shoulder as they head off to work.

Cure walks over to his dam, now turned, laying on her side. He lays kind of crooked across her with his belly across her shoulder and puts his head down against the bottom of her mane. After a few minutes of snuggling he finally breaks the silence. “So what do you want to work on today, dam? I don’t think there’s much to do with the garden and, unless I’m mistaken, we should wait a few more days before we harvest everything you want to take to the market.”

“Oh I don’t know, son. How about we make a trip into town? We need to get some bread and a few other groceries. Breakfast was nice, by the way. Maybe we can find something for you to read at the bookstore or the library. We’ll also get some supplies to work on expanding the garden this weekend when your mom and sire are available to help.” She pauses in thought for a moment, “Do you really think our magic can help till the land and get it ready to plant crops? I’m not doubting you, son, it’s just that it seems more like unicorn magic.”

“I’m not sure about that, dam. We could try it before we go. You have a lot more power than I do, though. You didn’t wear yourself out on those vines, did you?”

“Nope! I’m ready to give it a try,” she says while standing. Cure slides off her as she gets up and they head over to a grassy part of the yard.

Unfortunately, it was not going to be that easy. Vines focuses on her magic and pours it into the ground, but aside from feeling the grass and other plants in the soil she doesn’t seem to be able to shift earth just by itself. She can certainly tell what the earth needs to help plants grow, but direct manipulation of rocks and dirt just isn’t in the cards.

“Well that stinks. I guess we can’t win 'em all, can we?” he asks while looking up at her.

“Nope, guess not. Oh well, worth a try.” She pauses a moment to look around. “Well I have that small tiller in the shed and the garden plow, so at least we don’t need anything but some fertilizer and hard work to get it ready. Let’s go clean up the kitchen and wash the dishes,” she said as she tossed the basket onto her withers and made for the door.

I thought Pinkie’s family farmed rocks. Will farm rocks. Whatever. How do they do it? Maybe we need some training or a different mindset or something. Or it really could just be that they didn’t use magic actively at all and did everything manually. Wait, is “manual” another human word without a pony equivalent? Fuck that’s getting annoying. I’m not letting this one slide.

“Hey dam,” he called out, “I’m getting my human and pony terms mixed up a little bit on occasion. Can you do me a favor and tell me what the opposite of “automatic” would be?”

Confused for a moment, Vines tilts her head and asks, “You mean… by hoof?”

“Yeah, what’s another word for that?”

“Manually?”

“Huh. Well I’ll be. I wasn’t sure if that was an actual pony word.”

“Oh, humans spoke a totally different language? That’s strange, you kept using big words you shouldn’t know yet, so I assumed humans and ponies both spoke ponish… or whatever humans would have called it. Humish?”

“Well humans call this language English because the language originated in a country called England and, for the most part, it’s the same exact language in both places. Same words, but idioms are a little different since, obviously, humans wouldn’t say anything about hooves since they don’t have them. Humans have a bunch of different languages. Hundreds, even.”

“Oh. What’s that have to do with doing something manually?”

“Long story short, there were languages that came before English that they kind of took ideas from when the language was developing. That means that words as they are used today may have slightly different meanings than what they used to mean, or a word could actually be a combination of multiple words that just got used so many times together that people basically just made it one word.” He continues as they walk towards the house, “I don’t have all of that stuff memorized, but whenever I come across a word with parts that aren’t something I’d expect to hear in pony society I kind of have to stop and think “wait, is this word coming from my memories or is this an okay word to use in Equestria?””

He leans his head against her side as they walk, “Manual is a good example. The word doesn’t really have anything to do with man, per se, but it does mean “to do something by hand”. Obviously it means “to do something by hoof” here, but I wasn’t sure. We would say a project takes a number of hours of “manpower” too. It basically means how many people it will take to get a job done. Similarly, we have an actual measure of power with a defined quantity called “horsepower”. Machines would have ratings like “a hundred horsepower” which means they can output enough force that it would take a hundred horses to do the same work, roughly. I don’t know exactly how accurate those numbers were, but that’s how they started at least.” He pauses as they make their way inside. “I just have to be conscious of what I say because with enough mistakes someone is going to probably start thinking I’m nuts or something. Or, who knows, maybe there’s myths about humans out there and saying the wrong thing could get me in trouble. Like when I was searching for another word for “humane” the other day. Obviously you can’t just substitute “pony” in for “human” there. Ponane? Pony-ane?”

“Ahh… okay, I understand. I don’t think you have to worry about it too much, honey. If you slip up just play it off as something you heard from your great grandpa or something like that. Nopony will actually follow up to check and even if they did, well… grandpa must have slipped up when he said that and little Cure just didn’t know better. He is just a young colt, you know? And he always listens to his elders!” she said with a sly smile.

“Hah! My dam is so devious! More like Sneaking Vines, if ya ask me.” A thought occurs to him, so he asks, “Hey so… none of you really asked anything about humans at all. I figured you probably were just trying to avoid bringing up memories, but really… I’m okay. I told Title she can ask me anything. I meant that. If you’re curious don’t hesitate to ask me, okay?”

“Well I am curious what a human looks like. There’s obviously some pretty significant differences. You said the closest was a minotaur or diamond dog the other day.”

“Yeah, neither is particularly close, though. Humans are bipedal. Diamond dogs and minotaurs have digitigrade legs, so they have basically two joints above their ankles just like our hind legs. Humans legs are shaped like our forelegs, though. Their ankles are also like our forelegs, but instead of hooves they have feet. Human feet are a lot longer than hooves since they have to balance all their weight on them. The bigger feet provide more stability than a minotaur would have, so humans are much faster at turning or moving side-to-side than they would be. Possibly. Magic changes the game completely. Either way, humans are way, way weaker than either of those. Humans are physically weak and have absolutely no magic. The danger comes from their speed and their ability to use tools. Like minotaurs they have arms and hands and their dexterity with them puts anything on this planet to shame, as far as I know.” He pauses to think for a moment.

Well Rarity could sew with her telekinesis, I guess.

“A really, really skilled unicorn may be able to manipulate objects as well as a typical human can. Their faces are flat like an ape’s is… even flatter, really. No horns or anything like that either, just hair on top of their head… no fur anywhere, I forgot to mention, so they wear clothes literally all the time to keep warm and so their genitals and other sensitive parts are protected. Their teeth aren’t as big as a diamond dog, but they do have sharp ones for meat. Really, biting would be a last-ditch thing for humans. The average healthy adult male human probably weighs two-thirds what you do and women are typically about half to three-quarters a man’s weight. Again, way, way less muscle. Males are much larger and stronger than females. It’s kind of weird for me to be in a largely matriartical society honestly… especially one where most ponies will lack any of the predatory instincts I know I still have.”

“Uhh… what do you mean, honey?” she asks, now a little worried.

“Oh I don’t mean humans are overly violent or anything,” he waved away the worry. “They just respond to aggression with aggression. Human males, especially. We grow up fighting and wrestling and stuff like that. Here males are more protected because there’s less of us per female, but for humans it’s almost an even split. Usually in adults there’s about 51 females to 49 males, but that’s more because human males do stupid stuff, often to impress females or to prove their masculinity. They occasionally get themselves killed as a result. More competition for females, you see. It’s weird to think that I’ll be the one having to fend off aggressive females at some point.”

He paused, shaking his head. “Anyhow, Cyndi’s oldest, Josh, was a perfect example of how dumb guys could be. He was at a party, trying to be a big strong tough guy, drinking and smoking with all his friends. Then he left so drunk and high off his rear he could barely walk straight. Wanted to go see his girlfriend and get some p… have sex. He didn’t make it more than a couple miles before he had an accident and, by the time they found him, it was just too late. He probably laid there three or four hours before someone even found the accident and he was already long gone. We got the call on a Saturday morning while I was making the girls breakfast. Guys are dumb… especially when there’s women involved.”

“Well promise me you’ll never do something like that, sweetie. I don’t know how you and your wife got through all that tragedy, but I just couldn’t survive without my little colt around.”

“Oh trust me, I know. I grew out of all that. The whole “risk versus reward” part of the brain isn’t really that well developed in humans until their mid twenties. I’m sure I’ll still have some colt-like behaviors just because of body chemistry and natural instinct, but I don’t think you have to worry about me being dumb, especially to impress some mare.”

Vines nodded and, as she finished cleaning up the kitchen, hung up the towel and started heading towards the stairs. “Go get ready to head into town, honey. Use the bathroom if you think you’ll need to. I plan on wearing my saddlebags, so I don’t think you’ll need to bring anything. I’m going to go up and get ready and we’ll leave in just a few minutes.

Nodding his head, he went upstairs to get ready.

Author's Note

Edit much later:
For anyone noticing a change in the timeframes here, I do apologize. Initially these early chapters did not have a date stamp and the dumb author didn't sit down and map out everything before he started writing. Idiot! Anyhow, as a result, Title's pregnancy dates were all wrong by several weeks. She should be at least in her 19th week. I'm not going to say anything else for now, but I have edited the chapter to reflect. Originally I had like week 11 or 12 or whatever.

Sorry for that. I am hopeful that mistakes like this will not happen again, but there's a very good chance that somewhere in the next 13-15 chapters there are other small slips like that. The whole date stamp thing didn't actually start until about 23 when I finally got off my lazy ass and mapped stuff out.