“...A part of her, she gave you. In exchange for this covenant, you shall also take a part of me. In the shadow of my wings shall you rest; in me shall you find your refuge...”

**Baltimare Transfer Station, Baltimare, Equestria**
**002 Summer CC**
**Silly the Colt**

*yawn*

On a cart again. I sleep too heavily. Cart is somewhat full with a few boxes. Mom’s harnessed to it and pulling. Her happiness is almost radiant but isn’t moving very quickly. Dad is moving slowly, too, but he looks terrible: bags under his eyes, almost dragging his hooves, and his cheeks look a little sunken. But he doesn’t look sad or upset. I’d say he would probably look quite proud if it weren’t for his sickly aura.

I think pilots used to have an adage, ‘any landing you can walk away from is a good one.’ This seems like an equivalent situation. I want to feel bad for you, but I just can’t. What you did yesterday was herculean. Songs ought to be written of such legendary feats.

They give each other gentle touches with the sides of their bodies as they walk.

We arrive at an interesting building. There are lots of wideset posts holding up a long and narrow roof. Under some of these breezeways are booths mared by some pony in a uniform. Beyond is another set of posts holding up another roof. Past that looks like a train. There’s a lot of ponies around, too.

Neat!

When we get to the booth, mom talks with the pony. I can’t really hear what they’re saying. Look at all those ponies everywhere. That one is wearing a pony-suit. Like, she’s a pony dressed up as another pony. I wonder what that’s all about.

Mom disconnects herself and then gets some saddle bags on her back. Dad puts me on his.

“<> Silly,” he says though I can tell from his voice that his energy is bottoming out.

Some happy nature-pony in a uniform comes by, “Hello!”

I can say that one! “Hello. Silly.”

***Extra A/N***
So, I recently rewatched an episode clip of baby Applejack eating fritters. “I’m Appoo jek. Mow appoo fwittuh?” I thought, ‘That’s way too cute! I’m going to embarrass you now, Silly. Sorry not sorry.’

More exact translation of Silly's talking: <<“Hewo. [I’m] Siwy.”>>
***End Extra A/N***

The mare sees me and her smile gets bigger. <<“Aw~ look at you!”>> To the adults, she says, <<“I’m Rail Hard, and I’ll be loading your cart into the cargo car for you.”>>

“Thank you, <>” mom says.

The mare smiles with renewed understanding, saying, <<“That’s a good name!”>> And puts a piece of paper on the front of the card and hoofs a littler one to mom. <<“That will identify your cart in case it ends up somewhere else. Equestria Rails and the Rail Service will work with you to recover your cargo if that happens.”>> She then straps herself up to the cart. Before she takes it away, she asks <<“You’re westbound, right?”>>

Mom answers, “Yes, <>”

<<“That’s good, because there’s only one train in the station right now!”>> All the adults share a laugh as she takes the cart. The lady looks back at us a few times as she goes. I don’t know what they’re talking about, but it looks like mom got a ticket stub to identify her cart later.

Dad whispers something to mom. She nods and goes somewhere - towards what looks like a concession stand. Me and dad slowly move over to the back of the train and stand near a map hanging up on one of the posts holding the roof up.

By the looks of the city, there seems to be a rail line heading out west, south, and north. The northerly line terminates somewhere else on the north side of the city, and it looks like there’s a short transfer line between the West Station and North. The south line melds into the westerly rail just a little ways out. On the national map, the westerly line does not go directly west; it goes more northwest.

It looks like there’s several stops on the way. I can identify some of the landmarks like Hollow Shade and Foal Mountain, but I don’t know how to read the names of any of the big or little towns. This line bends around the northern side of the capitol.

Another pony with a similar uniform checks a pocket watch. That’s neat: pocket watches exist. Now that I think about it, there are a few clocks around the station. Apart from the maps, it looks like there are some chalk boards with grids on them. I’d guess those are train schedules, but I can’t read that well yet. That pony puts the watch away, takes out a whistle, and blows it.

She shouts something, <<“All~ aboard~!”>> And dad takes me onto the train -wait- what! What about mom!?

Turning around on his back, I can see her coming this way. Oh, thank Harmony!

…

Huh. I was really worried there for a second. What’s up with that? I’m going to have to think about that.

On the train car, there are a couple of booths with tables on one end, but most of the space has some cushioned bench-like seats along the walls. They are similar to the benches on that beach’s boardwalk and mom’s couch; they’re not lifted off the ground any. Even I could walk up onto the seat without any issues.

My perspective might be off. I’m not sure if ponies are just small creatures and the train is normal sized, or if ponies are normal sized and the train is wider than I assume one ought to be when comparing them to trains from Before. They don’t seem longer. I’d guess this would give ponies more space to walk around, stand, or turn. Even though there are a decent number of ponies boarding each train car, it does not feel confined or tight.

Dad puts me onto one of the lengthwise bench-cushions and just stands there. He doesn’t say much -just stares out the window at nothing. Seems like he needs more than just some electrolytes. Do ponies need those? Geeze, mom, how much did you drain out of him yesterday?

…

Actually, no. I don’t want an answer to that.

**Pear Butter**

I nudge Bright Macintosh, “Got that ice pack you asked for, Sugarcube.”

“Thank you so much,” he answers. I’m holding it in my mouth and pass it to him. When he takes it and frees my mouth, I’m able to kiss him before his muzzle leaves my proximity and get a nice flush in his cheeks.

Silly’s shivering a bit. “Are you cold, Silly?” I situate myself on the seat with him between my forehooves -a good way to hug some warmth into a little foal, I think- and my saddlebags nearby. He should be getting hungry pretty soon.

One of the train ponies outside yells, “Last call~! All~ aboard~!”

Mac sets the ice on the seat, turns around, and sets himself on it. A sizzle can be heard throughout the train car, and what little talking there was stops. Everypony watches my stallion grunt and sigh with relief.

“Is it really that bad?” I ask.

He answers, “To be clear, Ah ain’t complainin’ one bit. But Ah ain’t never heard o’ no stallion fillin’ his tank up from pure empty before, Buttercup. Mah boys are workin’ pretty hard right now.” A cold mist seems to be wafting from the ice pack from his undercarriage.

The train doors close. As the train starts to pull out, a stewardess at the front of the train car holds a small box. I recognize it; it’s one of those newfangled speaking devices. You talk into the box, and there are some other boxes near the roof of the train car that receive and slightly enhances her voice.

This is a longer trim, so the train ponies have to go over safety instructions and introduce themselves to the passengers. Each passenger car should have a pony doing this.

“Hello, everypony! My name is Railed Caboose.” She seems happy and energetic. “I’ll be one of your stewardesses for this westerly journey. Our terminus for this voyage is Canterhorn Transfer Station, and our conductor for the trip is Pulls Out. He is a very skilled driver.” Some ponies look a little worried. It’s understandable; stallions are normally considered to be poor drivers, but the mare quickly repeats with emphasis, “He is a very skilled driver.” The mares on board let out a quiet but collective sigh. “The nearest major stop will be Hollow Shades which is about 6 hours away with several stops in between.”

Bright Mac doesn’t seem to notice the mares’ reactions; he’s enjoying his melting ice. I don’t think he’d disagree with their assessment, though, given how he drove his plow into my daddy’s water silo. That wasn’t even the worst driving he’s ever done! I’d probably put that up towards some of his better work in the area of driving. Any other type of farmwork and I’d have a much higher standard for him which he can meet with two hooves tied behind his back.

Railed continues, “We will not reach pegasus’ flight speeds on this commute, so there is a very, very, very~ low risk of the cars crumpling in on themselves like a tin can under a boulder should an accident actually occur.” Everypony’s ears all stand straight up.

Aw, come on, Railed Caboose. No pony wants to think of something like that happening.

“But! In case of such an emergency like a runaway or a derailment, each car is equipped with special brake levers and can detach from the locomotive car. They are located at the forward and rear apertures of each train car,” she points to the door behind her and on the opposite end of the car, “and you would need to access the Emergency Box to utilize them.” She taps the box next to her at the front and points to the one at the back. They are on the wall next to the forward and rear doors with emergency markings on them.

“Those things are not toys; so, please don’t use them unless you must!” Her voice is happy and bubbly. It seems to make everypony feel good even though the topics aren’t the most positive.

“There are also first aid kits in these,” she is referring to the emergency boxes with the break levers, “Primary egress is from the loading doors,” she points to the doors on the side of the train where we all entered, “on every other car. There are also passages in between each car. Further, the windows can all be released as potential exits should the train derail onto its side.” There are some release levers on the window frames. “There are additional escapes in the ceilings. Please don’t use any of the exits while the train is moving!” A lot of ponies nod at that.

Railed keeps informing us of important train information, “During estrus, we usually have more than one car designated as Hot Cars; right now we only have one, and that is rearward -otherwise known as, ‘the train car right next door!’- which is then preceded by the cargo area known as the ‘caboose.’ If anyponies need to use the Hot Car facilities, please remember to use the Designated Cleaning Station before returning to your seats; there are necessities for those who may need to isolate for the duration of the journey in the Hot Car. Please remember: the Hot Car is for adults only.”

The Hot Car is so named, because that is where mares in heat may go during their trip to refrain from any stallions being affected; locking a stallion in an enclosed room -like a train car- and blasting him with strong pheromones is considered ‘unsportsmarelike conduct.’

While there are social pressures and even laws which encourage -and sometimes mandate- ponies to do their part with the population problem, there are also social pressures and even laws which discourage -and sometimes penalize- ponies who force others to participate without sober consent.

Mares are not immune to those pheromones either but can resist where most stallions have a significant struggle. That’s just how nature made us.

It’s not a guarantee that there will be a stallion riding in one of the passenger cars; so, a mare may not need to go to the Hot Car. Looking around, I think Bright Mac is the only one on this passenger car, and we are out-of-season, so I don’t anticipate having to guard him every minute. This trip should last about two or three days depending on the layover. I wonder if he’d join me back there in the Hot Car a few times…

Mares with loved ones may also utilize the Hot Car for some spicy times rather than to suffer or become irritable during those times of hormonal instability over which no pony has control.

The stewardess says over the intercom, “Employees will be happy to watch any young ones while the adults are temporarily unavailable in the Hot Car.” Her tone notably changes to one of seriousness but disappointment in a nearly monotone voice, “I am required by law to remind passengers that: employees are not permitted to ‘help’ in the Hot Car beyond facility maintenance and facility sanitation while the employee is ‘on the clock.’”

I didn’t really have a reason to listen to this part of the safety instructions when I went to Baltimare, but I am glad that I am right now.

Returning back to her more positive self, Railed says, “Convoy Party and Rail Hard will primarily be working in the meal preparation area which is in the centre of the train; while that does cost bits, you are allowed to eat or drink anything you brought with you. Off Rails and Railfan will be mostly working in the sleeper cars which are one car forward from here and another toward the engine. We ask that all nightly snuggles be moved to the Hot Car out of consideration for anypony who might be sleeping in one of the bunks nearby in the Sleeper. The Tunnel Twins -Bound and Buddy- along with Train Run will mostly be working towards the front of the train in the Business and Noble cars. But we’ll be moving around and hope you’ll get a chance to meet all of us! If there is anything we can do to make your journey more enjoyable, please feel free to ask!”

Caboose, Hot Car, Meal Car, two Sleepers, Business and Noble cars, Engine, and several Passenger cars: pretty good sized for two lower priced adult tickets on a slower commute. Mac took a very expensive Express redeye to get to Baltimare overnight. Silly’s ticket was free for his age… That’s what the mare at the ticket booth assumed.

Railed puts her speaking device away and is called over by a few mares, and they begin talking.

There are mostly single or coupled mares in this car; but there is one herd with a few foals on board, and they all look older than Silly. I wonder how he’ll interact with some older foals. The youngest looks like she could be twice Silly's age. Everypony does take little glances at Bright Mac and Silly; they’re the only males in this space. It’s an instinctual protective behavior to keep them safe.

Even the little ones look curiously at the colt. Foals seem to think other foals are an interesting subject of observation.

Silly seems to be warmer now. He’s wiggled out of my hooves and is doing some of the stretches Stormy taught him and Spitfire. Bright Mac looks like he’s interested in his display, and Silly is humming some tune with it. The fillies seem to be enjoying the little colt’s show, too.

When he gets done, he sits straight up on his haunches with a look of concentration. I get a little worried that he's concentrating, but it's not the 'horseapple face.' So, I'm not sure what to expect. In some ways, that could be worse... We should take more time to teach him how to use the restroom.

But then he stood up on his hind legs again and balanced with his wings. With his forehooves straight up in the air, he rocked onto one hind leg and then the other a few times. What is he-?

-He rocked forward hard and started cartwheeling around the train car.

Everypony stopped what they were doing and watched the pegasus roll hoof-over-hoof in a straight line till he stopped by bopping the end of the car, "Oof." Then he got back up and did the same thing back thisaways.

Some of the fillies giggle noticeable at the colt who has his... bits aimed at them and flopping around while he's spinning himself around on his hooves. An adult stallion would not gain a favorable reputation for doing that outside of an actual gymnastics competition. Everypony knows he's just a little thing, though. He's just...

... Actually, I have no idea where he came up with that.

“Hey, Silly,” I say.

He turns when hearing his name and lands on the floor, "Hugh." It's okay; pegasi are good at landing.

I lay on my side with my head resting on Mac, pat my belly, and ask, “You want breakfast?”

He must have realized he was hungry, because he jumped and slammed into me and I, “Oof!” And he starts his meal.

“Y’all alright?” My stallion asks? “He seems to like that.”

I answer, “Yeah, Ah think so. Ah’m a nature-pony, after all, but thank you for askin’.”

Mac waves the stewardess over and asks her about getting his ice pack refilled. “Coming right up,” she said and trotted through to the cars beyond.

Some of the younger fillies from a group on this train car come over all looking fascinated and curious about a foal feeding.

The oldest must be around five. “Hello,” she says. There are some older ones over by their herd and have their Cutie Marks. These four do not.

“Howdy,” I answer. “What can Ah do for you cute fillies?”

One of the younger ones asks, “Um, is that your colt?”

Smiling, I reply, “He sure is.”

The youngest asks, “What’s he doing?”

I say, “He’s having breakfast.”

One of the fillies says to the youngest, “See?” They must have been theorizing. I give their herdmares a wink to reassure them, and they send back some smiles.

The oldest asks, “Can he eat normal food yet?”

I say, “He has had some solids," the applesauce from yesterday, "but he’s not all the way there yet.”

“Does it hurt?” Another asks.

Mac chuckles at that one, and I roll my eyes at him saying, “No, it doesn’t hurt. He hasn’t ever used his teeth.” I can see Bright giving my belly quick glances with brief expressions of thirst.

The youngest asks, “What’s his name?”

“His name is Silvanus,” I say, “but Ah like to call him, ‘Silly.’” They giggle at that and repeat his name.

One says, "That thing he did before was silly."

"Does he do that a lot?"

"What was the song?"

These fillies sure do have questions, "Uh~"

The oldest makes some introductions, “I’m Kind Heart. This is Love, Lively, Red, and Cream.” And they each say, ‘Hello.’

“B-b-b-b-b-b-b!”

“What was that!” The pink filly named Lively Heart while excitedly hopping in place.

I can hear a few mares whispering things like, “-want my stallion do that-” And now, the image of my stallion doing that is at the forefront of my mind; and that same heat and heaviness inside starts coming back. Lan' sakes. I thought that was resolved yesterday, when I woke this morning and it was all gone but for an understandable soreness.

They all look innocent and curious, but it’s not my place to tell them about dragonboating and other things that only adults are supposed to do. And I don’t want to start hypothesizing about Silly’s past with some underage fillies.

So, I just answer as simply as I can, “That’s -um- just what he does when he’s~ uh~ finished. Yep. That’s what he does when he’s finished.”

Silly turns around and seems to have just noticed he has an audience.

The older filly, I think her name is Kind, asks, “Does he know how to play any games?”

The youngest, Cream, asks before I can answer, “Can he talk yet?”

One of the fillies with a white coat and pink mane says, “Oh! Let’s play ‘hospital’!”

I answer, “He hasn’t played that game before, and he can say a few words. He knows how to chase or run around.”

The older filly informs her sisters, “Pegasi like to run or fly a lot.”

Another of the pink fillies asks me, “Can Silly play with us?”

I smile and affirm, “Ah think he’d like that.” They ask him to come with them, and I give his flank a little nudge with my nose. When he looks back, I give him a smile, and he smiles back more willing to follow some new friends.

“Hey, Mac?” I whisper.

“Hm?”

“Think you might be up fer a quick visit to the Hot Car with me?” I ask.

He chews on the thought for a moment before answering, “Ah ain’t ever been to one of those areas before.”

“Me neither,” I admit, “and Ah know ye’r tired, Sugarcube, but the only time this,” and I motion aftwards, “seems to… cool off is when ye’r… you know.”

“Fer the record,” he starts, “Mah drive ain’t slowed down one bit, Buttercup. Ah think Ah can still wake it up -mah Big Mac that is,” and he smirks at me, “but Ah don’t think Ah got enough to make any actual deposits. Let’s just -uh- not get too… drawn out. Please?”

I nuzzle his neck and kiss his cheek saying, “Ah can do that.” I add with a whisper in his ear, "And Ah'll let y'u quench that thirst o' yers, too, Sugarcube." Don't think I didn't see you getting jealous of Silly's breakfast.

And just like that, all of Bright Macintosh's weariness disappeared.

Before we leave together for the Hot Car, I go over to the herd whose fillies are playing ‘hospital’ with Silly. They have two of his legs and a wing wrapped in tissue paper already.

“Hello,” I say to the mare who pays the most attention to my approach. I assume she’s the Lead.

She returns the greeting, “Good morning. Your colt is quite the trooper.”

“He likes to play hard,” I say and introduce myself, “I’m Pear Butter.”

“Care Heart,” she says and motions to some of the mares with her, “and these are Free and Pure.”

“Hello.”
“Hello.”

“Well, Ah was wonderin’ if-”

“We’ll watch him,” Pure says. What? How does she, “Anymare could see where you two are heading.”

“It’s not like you’ll be gone that long anyway,” Free teases -implying what we know about most stallions.

Care adds, “Don’t forget to sanitize after.”

“Uh,” I blink, “Y- yes. Thank y’all very much!”

Free giggles, “Go get’im, Tiger.”

Author's Note

We can all feel bad for Bright Macintosh; but let's be honest: we're all actually jealous.

The adult Heart family mares work at the Canterlot Medical Centre associated with the Medical School and Castle facility in the city.

Long-winded author's notes moved over to a blog post.

Regarding story length in relation to in-story time passage: time skips are possible but requirements must be met. I originally thought there might be a short one for this chapter -to skip the trip and start up at the other end- but it didn't go that way. For a large skip, a certain category of event is prerequisite in addition to the requirements; and that has not happened yet either.