“It isn’t enough.”
“Enough for what?”
“For my cutie mark.”
“This again? Those things take time, don’t they?”
“I know I’ll never get it. I’ve known that for the longest time.”
“You need to stop being so hard on yourself. There’s nopony else who can do what you do.”
“Really? Is that why there’s a hundred—a thousand other earth ponies who can nurture a seed in a day?”
“It’s not about the time. It’s about the work.”
“Like this is any better than what they can produce.”
“Sap. Come on.”
My body shudders. I let my head fall. “I’m sorry.”
The clearing in the woods is paled by shadow. Dark clouds plague the ever-gray sky. On a dead stump amid the brush I’ve cleared, my best and only friend sits still. He’s bent forward with his back hunched, with his legs hanging loosely from atop his perch. His arms are folded at the elbows, and he clasps his hands as he looks right at me. The warm clothes he’s wearing are covered in the bits of bramble he’d taken with him on the journey from his home in town. His woolly red pullover shines with its presence.
“It’s... it’s awful to see you like this, you know?” He lifts and rubs his hands together with vigor, and the hot breath he blows frosts in the air.
“I know.”
“I want you to be better.”
“I know,” I say again, no better than the last whine. “I wish I could.”
“You need to try.”
My breath hitches. I want to cry. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry. For the love of...” He sighs promptly. “Sap. It really sucks to have you put yourself down. All the time. It’s starting to make me wonder if you really want me around.”
“Of course I do!” I hurry before even a moment’s passed.
“It doesn’t feel like it. Every time I come out here, the way you talk... I just feel bad I didn’t come sooner. And then when I do spend time with you, it’s all this... self-deprecating nonsense.” He rests his hands in his lap again. “You’re still the same mare I call my best friend. There’s nopony else who understands me like you. But you’re making it so hard for no reason.”
I can’t think of anything to say. And I don’t want to take even more of his time. “I’m sorry.”
“Stop that.”
“I can’t,” I whisper.
“Try. If not for me, then for yourself.” He blows in his hands again. It almost carries with the chill in the wind.
“You should go,” I mumble pathetically.
“Go where?”
“Back to town. Back to your real friends.”
“You are my friend. The ponies like my woodwork. You like me.”
“Of course I do,” I say. “I love you. And that’s why you can’t stay.”
“Well, I’m not leaving.”
My chest knots, and a tear falls loose. “I don’t deserve you.”
“Like I deserve to have even a single friend, especially one so genuine as you. If nobody deserves anything, then I deserve it the least.”
“You deserve everything. I’m just taking from you.”
“No, you’re not.” Shifting in place, he kicks a boot-covered foot against the base of the stump. “What you’re acting like now? That was me before Equestria. I’ve told you that before.”
“And I didn’t believe you.”
“And I don’t believe you,” he fires back. “When I met you, I had no idea we were going to be spending so much time together. That I’d share so much common ground with a talking pony. I felt like I was going to be alone in the world again, and that I’d have to fool even more strangers into thinking I was their friend. But I didn’t get the chance to do that. You came up to me, and you accepted me. And I’ve done nothing but to try and support you in turn. I want to spend more time with you. When we’re together, you make me happy. But I can’t make you happy, so it’s clear there’s nothing more I can do.” He shakes his head, then turns to the ground. “If you don’t deserve me, then I don’t deserve you.”
I look away from him. “I’m sorry for wasting your time.”
“You’re not wasting my time. I’m just sorry for not being able to do more.”
The tree I’ve planted looms above me. It’s grown well, even with the town’s plans in motion to turn the autumn to winter. It’s the last tree in the woods to still hold onto all its green and leaves. It’s strong. It’s healthy. It’s my best work yet.
“I made it for you.”
“Thank you. It’s a wonderful gift. Like nothing else I’ve ever had. It’s great. It’s amazing. And... I’m happy you care enough about me to have made it.”
“If I didn’t have you, I wouldn’t be here right now.”
“Right back ‘atcha.”
The silence is warming. I can feel him admiring it; it’s just as strong as before. I look back at him on the stump. He’s as enamored as he was at the moment he stepped into the clearing. He cares. He cares that I care.
I’m very lucky to have a friend like him.
“Do more of... this, Sap.” He waves a hand. “This is exactly what I love to see. Your passion. When you’re not working for others, but for what you want.” He turns, and gestures toward me, his voice and eyes both bright. “To see you show so much care, and produce something that stands out for you. You know how special this is. It doesn’t matter that you didn’t get your cutie mark from it. By the time you do, it won’t matter, because by then I know you’ll be happy and confident to keep doing what you want. You need to do it for you. You don’t need to prove a point to anyone, or anypony. You just need to be the best of you, and stop thinking you can’t, or shouldn’t.”
“I’m sorry for being such a problem.”
He smiles lightly. “Me too.” He stands up, and starts to make his way over.
He walks past me. To my tree.
He pulls one of his wood-carving knives from his boot, then flourishes it.
The clearing fills with the sound of scratching.
I stand up after him. “What are you doing?”
By the time I’ve come to his side, he’s finished: his knife gouges, and sticks through the bark with a sharp crack.
I stare at the inscription he’s left.
Beside me, he crouches. His arm loops across my withers, and he leans into me. I can’t help but lean back.
“If you’re stuck with me,” he whispers, “then I’m stuck with you.”
When he stands again, his warmth stays with me. I follow after him.
“Where are you going?”
“Doesn’t matter.” He stops until I catch up, then starts again. “You’re coming with me regardless.”
I let him lead me.
“Maybe we’ll go eat. Yeah... you need more hay in your diet. You know, to get your coat nice and grown out for the winter, especially if you’re going to keep spending all your time out in the trees.”
“It’s where I need to be.”
“No—” he runs his hand through my mane, and his fingertips down to the end of my muzzle, “—it’s where you want to be. And right now, the place to be is warm, and happy.” He looks down, and I meet his gaze. “And I’d love to be the one to take you there.”
I go to look back at my tree. His now-distant knife briefly glints in the corner of my eye: he turns my head forward with a gentle hand.
His thumb brushes across my ear. “We’ll come back when you’re ready, okay?”
A part of me wants to say I am. But I’m not. Magic takes time. Friendship takes time. I can’t force either. And after all I’ve done to improve my magic, I think it’s time to work on the latter.
“Okay. I’ll do better.”
“Take all the time you need. I’ll try and be here when I can.”
“That’s more than I could ever ask for.”
The walk to town is long, and cold. It will be much the same when I inevitably return, likely alone.
But right now, I’m not. It’s not always going to be like this: being with my best friend is a moment I can’t always have.
And that’s why I need to make the best of it.
