The air is always nice, fresh, and salty in this town. When it's clear, the view of the Celestial Sea on Horseshoe Bay is quite nice, too. I don’t prefer it over the farm, but it does have a different type of soothing ambiance. There's a kind and gentle breeze coming up off the Bay today. Every cloud has a silver lining and are reflecting a brilliant sunrise beyond the cityscape. The sky is lightening and will be a dazzling blue soon.

What an ugly day.

Baltimare’s a nice enough town, but I prefer my home. I’m just not ready for what’s waiting for me there.

And here I am: a milkmare. Hope for the best, prepare for a deluge. That's what I feel like, but I suppose I shouldn't trust feelings right now.

*sigh*

Doctor Vision told me to try happy activities. "Doingk zhe happy zhings vould help trick your mind into feelingk happy, und zhat vould help get you back on track tovard recowery. Ya?" That was her reasoning. Dancing, hobbies, and songs that may lead to positive feelings which may lead to good feelings which can cascade into Heart Songs which would indicate healing. Such activities were on the list she gave me; she thinks one of those would infuse or recharge me with some harmonic resonance or some such magics and greatly help me.

I don't know; today doesn't feel like a Heart Song type of day or even a positive one, but she made me promise to try; so, I suppose I can meet her halfway and hum -see if something comes from it. Humming's like singing, right?

I always thought Heart Songs were somewhat rare, but it seems being around more ponies means more potential harmony; so, there's more possibility for such things here than out in the countryside.

I actually had one once with my stallion… I really need to talk with him. What am I even doing here?

I should look at going back... soon.

It's not terribly hard work -being a milkmare- and pays better than starting out as a cashier somewhere. Pay from working on the family farm is a slightly different concept than doing jobs here in the city. The work intensity is different, too.

I come in early to fill the special bottles, then load up a little cart for a small residential route, go around and exchange empty bottles for full ones, and then drop it all off back at the company where I finish the work day with the rotolactor again. Some young fillies working for some pocket change wash the empty bottles and do evening deliveries of the special. Some cows on salary provide the bulk of the company’s product.

Ponies set their empties out by their doors or on window sills, and I just swap them out. Easier than bucking trees, hauling baskets and cartloads, and the thousands of other jobs back home. Not that I don’t love the farm work but right now I really need a little bit of easy.

‘Easy peasy limestone squeezy,’ one of my cousins likes to say. I don’t understand why she’d squeeze a limestone. I asked once and she said, ‘Well, it’s better than squeezing lemonstones. Those things like to get you in the eye.’ She's not wrong about that, and the sensation of that sentence on the tongue is worth the confusing price of admission.

If I were so inclined, I could get a second job for the afternoon. I just don't think I have it in me to go for the bits right now.

"Hey, Cup." It's not often somepony is up this early, and those that are rarely have the time to make small talk with their milkmare.

"Mornin', Ms. Drops." Her smile falters just a little at the honorific, but she recovers. I know she’s asked several times for me to drop it, but my pa taught me well to respect my elders. And familiarity is a happy feeling that I’m not sure I’ve earned yet -from her or from myself.

"How are you doing today?" She asks. I try not to let it show, but I hate that question now. Doc Vision asks it all the time, and I'm tired of finding ways to say, 'Ah’m barely holding it together,' or lying by saying, 'Ah’m having a better day.'

I really don’t like lies -especially when they’re mine.

"One step at a time, Ah guess." I know she has a sad or worried look on her face while my back is turned, and I do my best to focus on the task at hoof: replacing her empty milk bottles.

"Was that you humming? It was a nice tune." She is trying. I can't fault her for that; though , I definitely don’t deserve it right now.

She looks tired. Her new foal must be the reason why she's awake at this early hour, and yet she's trying to console me with friendly smalltalk. You're a good mare, Little Drops.

"Uh, yeah, the doctor told me music would help keep mah mind from going to... places it shouldn't since- since..."

She jumps in quickly, "It's okay, Cup. You don't have to say it."

I nod. "Yeah. Ah'm -uh- not really up to try singin' right now, but Ah think Ah can handle a little tune. Jus' a little hummin.'" Try to give her a reassuring smile even if I don't mean it. Her effort deserves some kind of reward.

Pigeon somewhere. Silly birds. You can't stain a milkmare’s white uniform with your white poo.

Drops’ ears lay back, but she steeled a look of determination and stands those ears back up.

"I know it's been hard, Cup. Few ponies can imagine it. But what you're doing now is helping a lot of dams. We won't forget that, and I won't let you forget it either. Okay?"

My forehoof makes some small circles on the ground. I want to let my head hang, but a mare has her pride if nothing else. I suppose I'll have the chance to let it all out later at home or with Doc Vision in a couple of days. So, I nod and give her a smile.

"Yeah. Thanks, Drops. Yer a- a good friend." Her hug seems to indicate she appreciates me dropping the honorific.

I don't think I can take many more stops like this in one day. I've a friend coming with her new foal from Cloudsdale tomorrow morning, and that's going to be hard enough on me as it is. Harmony, have mercy on me.

Now there’s an odd sight. A mare is holding a conversation with... a banana?

"I am sorry, Miss..." The mare looks at a piece of paper, "Banana Knight? Is that your name or a title?" The mare looks like a well-dressed employee -must be somepony higher up in an organization.

The banana -I can't believe I'm even seeing this- appears to be walking on two thin hind legs. I think I read a book once about some cat-type creatures who walked on two legs and are about as short as the... banana. But that is definitely not one of those Abyssinians.

"I am afraid a self-proclaimed knighthood is neither recognized by Equestria nor is it a requisite of our executive board position. But we do thank you for your interest-" the mare is professionally and politely telling the banana to find employment elsewhere. "Do you mind if I ask: what do you eat? Are fruit taboo for your... species? And why is your lance shaped like a banana? If the Royal Guard used pony-shaped spears, nopony would take them seriously. You know?"

The mare does make some good points. I cannot hear any reply from the yellow-skinned biped, and I can't quite see any facial expressions from this side of its grated helmet.

Oh well. I've got deliveries to make, and I can't afford to stay around and gaze at the... local flora. I think I'll try and avoid this street from now on. Sometimes it's best to get the crazy parts of a day done with early.

Almost noon. Route's mostly done. That storm drain is complaining today. Odd. What do you have to gurgle about? It didn't even rain.

I don't know what I want to do today -besides try and forget. I can't get lost in drink because of my job right now. Maybe I could find a book? At some point, I need to put an add in the paper: new, unused foal / yearling paraphernalia for sale - cheap. Somepony should get some use out of that stuff. Applebutter sure won't b- be a- a- able-

*POP*

Hm? What was that? A slight turn of my head is all I need to look behind me into the cart from my pulling position while keeping my other eye on the road. Oh, it's just a foal. Do I have a book at home or should I stop by the library? If I check out a book from the library, what genre am I in the mood to-

*splash*

-Wait.

There's a foal... in... my cart? What? This can't be real...

…But there it is: drinking messily. How did- what was- where... A pegasus? Did it fall from a building? No. There aren't any residences here, and it looks too young to have flown far although its wings are pretty big for one so small. And I’m quite sure a pegasus would notice if the weight of a foal suddenly vanished.

I seem to have come to a full stop at some point, and the foal just noticed. It also notices me. Wh- what do I do? We just stare at each other for a little while as my brain seems to shut down and restart.

"Hello?" I call out to the empty city street. "Is somepony missing a foal? There's a foal here!" Of all the times for a block to be deserted... well, I suppose it won't hurt to get a closer look.

Sweet Celestia, it's licking spilled milk off the cart like it's starving! It's covered in it, too. Aw~ and it's a colt... A colt? Just like my Applebu- no. Don't do that to yourself, Cup. He's hungry and covered in milk and *sniff* -eugh- and Celestia knows what else. Wow! How long has it been since you last bathed, little one? How long have you been alone?... Too long. Too long.

Me, too, I suppose.

Nopony is coming for you. Are they?

"Where'd you come from, little one?" No, no. It's okay. I won't hurt you. Harmony, what do I do in a situation like this? "Are you alone, too? You can stay with me, if you want," for a little while at least. I don't think I mind the idea.

Let's see, the foaling book said to lift by their scruff like the- oh, by Celestia's unkempt mare-garden! The word, 'odor,' isn't strong enough for this. You'd have to use the fancy Prench spelling, 'odour,' because that makes it sound stronger and worse for some reason.

And he tastes worse than he smells! I've had onions assault my muzzle gentler than this. Dirty skunk junk would be an improvement. Buck me sideways!

Where is that tarp? I think I can form a quick little nest-bed there from that. Make my deposit. Okay. I'll cover you up, little one, with... um~ oh! My hat. It's just a part of the uniform -no big deal- and it'll prevent your stank from wafting my way.

Aw~ that little yawn. Yeah, I think sacrificing that hat for this is a worthwhile ending for the article of clothing.

*hurk!* There goes what's left of breakfast... and that still tasted better than whatever he's been rolling around in. Buck.

After a shudder and a few more dry heaves, I can hitch back up to the cart. *hurk!* Luckily, the company isn't far away. Now that I know he's back there, I can keep an ear on him -yup, still there and snoozing away.

Why don’t I keep any mouthwash in my work locker? Never crossed my mind before, but it just makes so much sense right now.

Inside, none of the cows are hangin' around during midday per usual. They're usually here for the early mornings and mid-afternoons. I imagine they do other jobs in-the-between, but we don't talk too much beyond pleasantries. Around here, I just do some residential deliveries and my own little contribution for dams. It's a relatively small business: small warehouse with a few cart and bottle storage stalls, a partitioned office, some processing equipment, and a collection area.

It does not take long to unload the empty bottles by the washing station, but I take a little extra time trying to be quiet about it so as not to wake the foal. It's just a few steps to the office. I can still keep an eye on my cart from there.

"Bristle? Mister Bristle?" I try to quietly call for him -comes off as regular talking. An older stallion replies. As the floor manager, he usually stays in the office doing schedules, payroll, and the like -as well as avoiding the cows. In general, they're cordial enough to mares, but their manners with stallions is considered to be a little too direct -sometimes vulgar.

"Eh? What? Who is it?" That thick east coast Equestrian accent never fails to raise my spirits somehow. It's a stark contrast to my family's speech patterns.

"It's me, Mister Bristle. It's Cup."

"Oh," his head emerges from the office, "I t'ought maybe some uh d'cows came back 'rly." I shake my head.

"No, sir. Ah just wanted to remind you that Ah have a few days off scheduled."

"Oh?" His head disappears back into his office briefly before reemerging. "Right. I'm trackin’ dat," he says as he looks at a paper held in his hoof with a schedule grid on it. "Couple uh days, right?"

"Yessir, Ah've a friend supposed to be arrivin’ soon."

"Dat's awfully gud o'youse, Cup. We really 'ppreciate youse 'round 'ere..." He trails off a bit. I've seen that mannerism many times these last couple of weeks: he wants to say something that will make everything all better but gets just as stumped as everypony else when the time comes. You might look and sound tough, Mister Bristle, but I can tell you're a good pony just from that.

And I don't blame him for the hesitation. I'd have just as tough a time thinking of the perfect words in his position. What could anypony really say that would do what we all hope it could?

"Hey," I interrupt his introspection, "uh, do you mind if Ah borrow the cart? Just fer tonight? Ah'll bring it back tomorrow."

He nods, "Sure, sure, Cup. Butch’a break it, youse bought it. You know? But I s'pect y'll be fine." This old stallion. Can't help but shoot him a smile.

"Thanks, Mister Bristle."

He makes like he wants to say one thing but changes at the last second. "Eh, fe'get about it. Youse a gud filly, yeah." He retreats back into his office -probably back to nappin'.

I kept an ear on the cart the whole time, but I still want to check. I peek under my hat, and the foal is still there. *sigh* Just a few more blocks to go, little one.

Huh, the walk home went by way quicker than it has the past few weeks.

"Hey, Cup." What?

"Oh, hey, Mic. How's the day treating you?" Open Microphone, my neighbor. She has probably seen me coming back home from work more than anypony else the last few weeks. I guess my milkmare schedule lines up with hers better than my old job schedule did.

Mic seems somewhat taken aback by my question but starts to smile with her reply. "Pretty good. Looks like you're having a better one, too?" There is touch of hope in her question.

I noticed my cheeks as she said that just now: they feel sore. Have I been smiling this whole way back? I don’t think I’ve done that in a while.

"Yeah, uh," I don't want to mention the foal in my cart, "Ah’ve a friend coming over soon. Haven't seen her in a while." Her smile completes its journey along her muzzle.

"Good for you, Cup. I'm really glad to hear that... Well, uh, don't let me keep you."

"See you around, Mic. Go get those bits."

"See you, Cup." She moves away, but her ears fold back a few houses down. I guess I reminded her of something stressful at work. Sorry, Mic. Before she’s more than a few steps past me, she adds with a few sniffs, “Is that you?”

“Oh," the foal's odor. Right. "Yeah~ I’ll be washing my uniform tonight.”

Mic nods as she resumes her trek toward her own employment, “That’s good. You’ll have to tell me how milk is supposed to make that kind of dank funk some- hm~ I might use that in my show tonight: dank funk…” Mic starts talking to herself as she moves beyond conversation distance.

*sigh* I guess it's time to wake you up, little one. Thank you for sleeping through all of that. I could have had some difficult questions to answer if you began to stir at any point.

*sniff* Eugh, I will definitely wash my hat later. Maybe I should leave it outside to air out. A~nd I am not picking you up traditional styles with my mouth again. Not 'till you've gotten a bath, little one. I can carry you just fine on my back. I don't think my eyes will water nor my nose sting as much if I do it that way.

Aw~ that big yawn from your little muzzle. That's good you're waking up on the way in. You should be almost fully awake by the time we get settled inside.

“Well, this is it: just a couple of rooms and a hallway squished between a few other arrangements of the same. It's temporary. I suppose I'll set you down in the sitting room, let you wake up, and you can explore the space.”

Suppose I can toss my uniform on the couch for now. I'll deal with that later. Don't want to miss this event for you, little one.

He has a leafy-green coat that fades to black down along his legs from the fetlocks. That's a good nature-pony color and an uncommon but normally nature-pony variation on the legs. His black tail is straight and not too bushy; that's typical for some pegasi speedsters. He has a top-heavy black mane that goes forward and away which is atypical for most pegasi. Flying around usually pushes it back; he might not be flying yet. Nature-pony can have those types of manes, but unicorns will more often than the rest.

Hehe, he yawns so wide and those tiny little hooves wiping the sleep away are so~ cute.

I suppose it wouldn't be a terribly big stretch of the imagination that he was mine or that he has some nature-pony lineage given his darker and natural color scheme. I don't think I would need much to get proof-of-birth or parentage from city hall if I claimed a home birth. There are medical records of Applebutter with my name on them. Could be questions about where I got a different foal if I go there. Maybe I'd have to provide a different name? Or maybe I could go over to the Harmony Shrine.

*sigh*

Look at me. An innocent foal finds his way into my cart -into my life- barely two hours ago, and I'm already plotting ways to make him mine legitimately and only a few weeks after my Appleb- aw~ look at him stretching.

He starts taking in the sights of the room; and when his gaze finds me, he freezes -just like he did in the cart. Why do you do that, little one? Why do you freeze? Is it a game you play?

Feels like it's been a long time since I've giggled genuinely like that.

Hm~ I don't think I can keep referring to you as 'little one' indefinitely, can I? We'll need to solve that soon -especially if I need to get some paperwork done for you.

Regardless, you're my guest right now -long or short term- and that means hospitality. On my family name, I'll give you plenty of that. Pretty soon you'll get a bath, but I can start with a smile. You're with me in my small slice of the city, little one. You're safe here.

"Hello. Did you sleep well?"

He turns slightly and makes some quick adjustments to his mane with his hooves and wings while giving me some sidelong glances.

Is this the early stages of preening? I never expected to have a young pegasus, and I have no experience growing up around one of this age. I think I know what I need to get at the library now.

Oh! It's good Flo will be here soon -maybe earlier tomorrow morning. She can teach me how to take care of a little pegasus. Thank Celestia for the timing! I couldn’t have planned this better.

Of all the times to do this, it is curious: pegasi usually only preen when the feel safe or when they're trying to... wait. Are you trying to impress me, little one -to look good for me? Funny little guy.

When he finishes, he gets a serious look in his eyes and looks around again. He stands up straight with some effort on shaky legs. He definitely hasn't been eating properly; it may be difficult to completely gauge his age. He's definitely showing his feathers off -wings raised and all the primaries spread. His wings are big enough for a colt a couple of years old, but his size looks like no more than a month or two.

I'll have to get him to a doctor soon, too, but that could invite some tough questions. Maybe if I take him back home? The town hospital should be more accepting than the one in the city since Applebu-

-look at him go! He just took off.

...But he doesn't take off flying with his wings or take off running? His wings slap to his sides, and he uses a fast spring-loaded, four-hooved, bounce-run -almost like he's skipping. But that's not skipping. Where on Equus did you learn that? It is rather quick. It's like you saw a Deer here in the city -as unlikely as that may be. Has nopony ever shown you how to trot, cantor, or gallop?

*p-da, p-da, p-da*

That's... I don't know what to make of that. It is kind of funny, though, watching him 'hop' around the apartment with purpose.

Now: do I feed or bathe you first?

Author's Note

Doctor Vision has a Germane-Equish accent a touch thicker than Photo Finish's. I asked if she'd be willing to improve with some lessons, but she said she'd have to charge her usual rates. So, that ain't happening. Sorry.

Mister Bristle has a heavy Fillydelphian accent. Like Dr. Vision, he also turned down my offer to practice pronouncing his lines ahead of time, but his stated reasons were quite different than Doc’s... and significantly more intense.

Writing three different kinds of accents in one chapter is tougher than it was in my mind. Please feel free to ridicule me for making this decision. I deserve it.

The Banana Knight comes from two sources. One was a home-brew DnD character sheet I found once. Another is from a show called Adventure Time.

Thank you to all who have made it this far.