The Lost Girls

I crumpled the letter I just received and crushed it between my hoof and my forehead.

“Oy luv. What's eaten ya?” Rolling Thunder, the purple pegasus mare with mane and tail like a coiled cloud, asked me as she kicked up a wooden and iron ring reinforced bucket that was right beside me. When the bucket landed upside down, she plopped on it like a very short stool next to me. I could actually hear the wooden bucket creak slightly due to the sudden strain on it for just a second.

I loved this gal, and normally I'd love her compony too, but after the news I just received, having compony was the last thing I wanted.

I really hate being weak in front of others.

“Nothing,” I told her with a warning growl. As I said that, I kept my eyes firmly closed. I thought I could even feel a tear trailing down my cheek.

“Oy, nonsense,” Thunder rejected. “Any pony in their right mwoind can tell somethin' is eaten at ya, luv, an' Oy ain't even a pony normally in her right mwoind. Oy can tell ya that much for certain, luv. Aye.” she laughed at her own comment.

As I cracked my left eye open at her, I couldn’t help but crack a small grin at her, too. It was not just because of what she said but the way she said it. Rolling Thunder was one of those few ponies who was actually proud of how insane she was, for in her eyes, that also meant having fewer restraints.

“That's the spirit, luv,” she said with a wide grin as she gave me a gentle nudge with her right wing. Notably, a wing she shouldn't be moving around too much after her last accident. Frankly, I have lost count how many times she's been benched because of an injury to either her wing, hooves or both, but she wouldn't have it any other way. Quality over quantity was her philosophy in life. If you're going to live short, then at least live it well!

However, one of the reasons I was elected the official leader of The Washouts wasn't just because it was my initial idea. The other reason was I really am the best in the team and they knew it. I pushed myself just as hard as these numskulls but, unlike them, I didn't get injured nearly as often. I'm just too good to make as many mistakes.

Just then, I realized that the news I had for them would break their hearts just as much as it was breaking mine.

But I had to be honest with them. I owed them that much.

“I'm, ah . . . I'm leaving The Washouts,” I announced painfully.

Predictably enough, that news startled Rolling Thunder.

“Blimey! What's this on ab'ow, eh? Oy ain't ev'ah seen ya quit anything a day in yo' life.” She gave a neutral shrug as she added, “Getting kicked out? Yes, but Oy ain't ev'ah seen ya quit something on your own volition before, so what's the deal 'ere, mate?”

I shivered a little as I continued to cry.

“Blimey! Don't gemme that. Just out with it, luv. Ya'll feel roight bett'ah if ya do,” Thunder promised as she wrapped a wing around me. Again, it was her injured wing, but when had she ever let physical injury stop her from doing what she wanted to do?

“Believe me, I don't want to go,” I assured her before shaking my head. “But I can't ignore this. Not this time.”

Something had changed in her attitude. I could feel it. She grew more stiff than before because she finally noticed that she couldn't talk me out of this. This was one of those really serious life deal kind of things.

“Oy! What is it?” she eventually asked which broke the moment of silence. “Don't'cha owe ol' Thun'dah a bit o' an explanation?”

Once again, I cracked a grin and my eyes opened at her. After two seconds I nodded a bit.

“Aye. I suppose I do.” To that end, I hoofed her the crumpled letter. “But read this first.”

“Oy. Let's see what ya got there, mate.” She accepted the letter with a hoof, opened it, then proceeded to read it. As she did so, my heart sank since I knew how much this was going to hurt her.

I knew she was not very good at reading so it took her a little longer. Longer still, in fact, because she actually re-read it a couple of times.

“So, ah . . . ya younger sister got 'urt?” she figured as she looked back at me.

I nodded a bit as I said, “And there is nopony else that can take care of her anymore. Our parents died quite a while back.”

She grinned at me as she asked, “Is that why ya're such a wily firecrack'ah?”

Laughter exploded from me suddenly. If I had been drinking anything at that moment, it surely would have sprayed from my muzzle.

“Ya can't leave here, luv,” she went on to say a bit more softly. “This 'ere is yo' family too.”

“Agreed, but she needs me more,” I countered seriously.

She sighed as she looked at the letter again, then looked back at me as she asked, “It's really that bad, luv?”

I released a long breath as I sat up straight and put my head against the side of the tent behind us while I looked up. Specifically, I looked straight up to the sky.

“There are many reasons why I love flying so much,” I announced to her wistfully. “Part of it is me, but another part is my sister.”

“She got two pair o' wings on 'er back just as much, right luv?” Rolling Thunder checked.

I shrugged as I answered, “Yes, she does, for all the good it does her.”

Even out of the corner of my eye, I saw Rolling Thunder tilt her head questioningly, hoping for more elaboration on that point. While I did consider this news very personal and sensitive, it was also true that I felt like I owed her. So, despite how painful it was for me to admit this, I went on.

“My sister is born with kind of a crooked spine,” I told her with a frown. “It is bad enough to keep her from using her wings properly.” I turned my head to look at her as I added, “Well, for flying, at least. She can use the limbs for other basic stuff like grasping things, but clearly not as easily as other pegasi.”

“Oh.” It actually pained me to see some light dim in old Thunder's eyes. A depression sunk into her due to how serious this news was.

“Sweet Charity has never known what it is like to fly,” I told her gravely. “One of the very things that matters to me the most in my life is a pleasure she could never share.” My eyes started to mist as I continued. “What makes it feel worse is she loved me for it. She loved to watch me fly. She loved how much it made me happy, but little did she realize how guilty I felt at the same time. She stared up at me like a fan. My first true admirer.”

Rolling Thunder looked down, along with a nod, before she said, “Oy can somewhat relate. Oy 'ave five broth'ahs and sist'ahs. Oy was the second oldest. Oy 'ad tah take care of some of 'em, Oy rightly sure did. They, too, admired moi flying skills from af’ah. Ain't none of them ‘ad some kind o' injury tah keep ‘em outta tha air, but it was clear they couldn't keep up wit’ me neithe'ah.” She looked back at me. “So Oy ain't totally alone in tha sky unless Oy pushed meself to moi best. Then Oy was alone.”

I nodded with a frown as I said, “Lonely at the top sometimes . . . isn't it?”

She nodded and said, “Aye . . . till Oy found ya 'n good ol' Fuse.”

I sighed before I said, “Well, you read the letter. Charity's spine has gotten worse. Now she can't even trot anymore. She's stuck in a wheelchair.”

She looked down and dropped her shoulders as she said, “Aye.” Then she looked back at me with sad acceptance as she hoofed me the letter back and said, “Family is family. Go to 'er. Oy'll explain ya situation tah Fuse.”

I tilted my head to my left and eyed her off the top of the left side of my head as I warned her, “He'll chew your ear off, you know.”

“Can't be worse than what ya're feeling,” she replied. She nudged me with her right wing again. “Go tah her. Oy'll rightly hold down tha fort till if and when ya get back, mate.”

I sighed again as I completely leaned over and rested my head on her right shoulder which was a level of vulnerability I normally never show anypony. I trusted her that much.

“Thanks, Thunder,” I told her with the glow of gratitude in my voice. “You're the best.”

She hugged me from the side as she said, “Ain't that rightly tha truth.”