Their Time

Chapters

Start Time
Autumn Time(s)
Moondancer Time(s)
Their Time

Start Time

Dear Moondancer,

I hope this letter finds you well and that your research continues to prove fruitful and engaging. I am doing well, and I am quite happy with the progress that the School of Friendship has been making. I have come to find that my students have just as much to teach me than I have to teach them.

To think, after years of being influenced by the studies and writing of great magical theorists we might serve to be the inspiration for an entirely new generation of thinkers and researchers. And by we, I really mean you, Moondancer.

I appreciate that you trust and value my opinion enough to request that I proofread your academic papers (and I insist, once again, that it is not an inconvenience whatsoever). I am confident that your dissertation, no matter what topic you choose, will be a resounding success. But, I also hope that you are taking time to focus on the other aspects of life.

Through my travels I have had the pleasure of meeting a variety of ponies and creatures, which has broadened and enriched my view and understanding of our wonderful world. I could only hope that as time passes, more Equestrians are able to experience and learn the merits of embracing those around us.

Now enough of my rambling and lecturing (sorry, I have found myself doing it more often these days) and onto my real intention for writing this letter.

In a few weeks, a good friend of mine will be traveling to Canterlot and staying in Canterlot Castle. Her name is Autumn Blaze, and she is a kirin from Peaks Peril. I trust that you understand how exciting these few facts about our guest are, but that is only a small part of her. Autumn is kind, vibrant, and enthusiastic. In the nature of exploring new places and perspectives, I desire that she is well taken care of.

I hope it would not be too much to ask, but could you act as a sort of ‘ambassador’ to Canterlot for Autumn? We both know how hard it can be for anypony to navigate the city, and I can only assume that it may be even more daunting for somepony who comes from so far away. I think that having a native at her side will help her get the most out of the experience. And who knows, perhaps you will find her companionship just as rewarding.

As always, it is a pleasure being in correspondence with you. Please, give Autumn my regards if you two ever do cross paths.

Your Friend,

Twilight Sparkle

Twilight Sparkle
Element of Magic
Princess of Friendship

“You are truly extraordinary.”

Autumn Blaze was unsure if it was the simplicity or suddenness of Moondancer’s words that struck her, but it was apparent that she wasn’t going to forget them anytime soon. The kirin grew silent, while Moondancer furiously scribbled notes at her desk.

Moondancer had spoken sparingly in the few hours that the pair had spent together, with Autumn maintaining a consistent stream of one-sided conversation. She pulled at the colorful electrical wires that were attached to her temples, listening to the soft pops they emitted as they released her fur, and turned to look at Moondancer.

“You really think so?”

“Of course,” Moondancer answered without hesitation, “Kirins and ponies have much in common. Which makes our differences and distinctions all the more fascinating. I now understand why Twilight insisted that we become acquainted.”

Autumn let the wires unceremoniously fall to the floor as she hopped off the stool she was sitting on. She knew that Moondancer wasn't interested in her as an individual, but she smiled at the unicorn anyway. It wasn't every day that somepony devoted so much thought to understanding what you were.

She agreed with a nod. “I think I understand too.”

Autumn Blaze smiled to herself, overjoyed by how quickly she was getting to know Moondancer. The unicorn was certainly astute and reserved, but Autumn could tell that there was much more to learn. Autumn’s initial impression of Moondancer wasn’t exactly glowing. The unicorn was supposed to greet her at the train station and guide her to Canterlot Castle, but she never showed up. Autumn waited for about an hour, before choosing to navigate the bustling city on her own and find her way to Canterlot Castle.

She settled herself into her new room and became acquainted with a few of the guards; they directed her to one of the highest towers in the Castle court where Moondancer was regularly seen working. Autumn had made the short walk over to Moondancer’s lab and found the aforementioned unicorn completely absorbed in her work.

Their first meeting was awkward as Moondancer was unaware of how much time had passed, leaving her unprepared to meet Autumn formally. Their conversation was chock full of run-on sentences and terse responses, but neither of them seemed to be bothered by it. They each contributed to the strangeness in their own unique ways.

As they spoke, Moondancer’s mind seemed to be elsewhere, until Autumn used her magic to show off a brochure of a few locations she hoped to visit. Then Moondancer’s attention was fully on her. It was a simple levitation spell, the exact one that foals often use unintentionally, but Moondancer was struck by it.

She trained an intense gaze on the kirin and asked, “You can levitate objects?”

“Of course,” Autumn answered nonchalantly, playing with her mane.

Moondancer teleported several fresh sheets of parchment onto her desk and refilled her ink jar. She fidgeted in her seat as she asked, “What other spells do you know?”

And so, that simple question devolved into an hours-long exploration into the magical capabilities of kirin, which unofficially ended when Moondancer informed Autumn that she was ‘truly extraordinary.’

The kirin firmly planted her hooves and stretched like a cat, soaking up the last few stray beams of light that flowed in from a nearby window. A majority of her first day in Canterlot had been spent cooped up in Moondancer’s lab being studied, analyzed, and researched.

Despite this, Autumn didn’t consider it a bad day. A bad day was when a particularly nasty argument burned your village down or when everypony around you decided that ridding of their voices and emotions was the right decision. A terrible day was a day spent in total isolation after already spending many days in isolation and knowing that many more days would be spent that way too.

The sound of Moondancer’s quill flying across a scroll echoed throughout the room as the unicorn lost herself in her writing. Autumn rocked her head from side to side and observed the intensity of Moondancer’s process. The unicorn seemed to put her entire body into her work. She was hunched over, writing at a feverish pace. Her eyes followed the words as they were written, and she mumbled each word as she thought them. In a strange way, it was almost admirable. Autumn recognized a passion in Moondancer, something that compelled the unicorn to devote every part of herself to understanding this world.

In an unusual change of pace, Moondancer broke the silence between them and spoke, “I firmly believe that I could learn a great deal from you, much more than what can be gathered in one day. Would you be opposed to me studying you further?”

“You… want to study me?” Autumn Blaze asked, searching for the slightest bit of insincerity in the lemon-yellow unicorn.

Moondancer nodded solemnly and awaited a reply. Autumn’s attention was drawn to the unicorn’s purple eyes as she pushed up her glasses, they were piercing and serious, seemingly unphased by the unusual request. The silence between them returned while Autumn puffed out her cheeks and teetered on her hooves.

“This was…pretty weird and not what I expected when coming to Canterlot,” Autumn began, rubbing the back of her head, “but it was kinda fun. Let’s make a deal. We can split our days up. I’ll help with your study things if you accompany me on my tourist things.”

Moondancer blinked a few times and placed a thoughtful hoof on her chin. “Interesting. Are you suggesting we split our time in half? One half will be mine, the other will be yours?”

“Exactly! Your ‘Moondancer time’ will be for sciency stuff, and my ‘Autumn time’ will be for fun and exciting stuff!”

“Okay, I guess I can follow those terms,” Moondancer agreed, jotting down a few notes on a sheet of parchment before adding, “But science can be quite fun and exciting too, you know.”

“Sure, sure,” Autumn assured with a dismissive wave of the hoof, “Now let me think about what we’re doing tonight.”

Autumn Time(s)

“So, are you excited for today’s Autumn time!” Autumn asked, shaking the entire booth as she searched for an inkling of shared excitement in Moondancer’s features.

Moondancer used her forehooves to steady the table, while her magic enveloped her teacup to stop it from spilling. She was almost impressed by the improvements in her response time over the past few weeks. It seemed that spending time with Autumn brought more than advancements in magical research. It kept her on her hooves and out of her lab, which wasn’t always opportune, but at least she was eating and socializing on a semi-regular basis.

She sipped her tea before asking, “Depends, will it end as spectacularly as the last couple of Autumn times?”

“Of course not! Why would you even say that?” Autumn cried, but Moondancer didn't try to apologize. The unicorn simply peaked over her teacup with a quirked eyebrow.

Autumn sighed and slumped in her seat. “It’s not like I plan for these things to happen. They just…happen. And it's not like it's that bad anyways.”

If Autumn didn’t have Moondancer’s full attention before, she definitely had it now. The unicorn placed her teacup down before speaking, “Not that bad, you say? I think you should reconsider that stance.”

“Really?” Autumn asked curtly.

“Yes,” Moondancer responded just as curtly.

“Okay, what about…” Autumn began, thinking over all the Autumn times over the last few weeks. “Oh! The dog show. Remember all those fancy dogs! They were absolutely adorable.”

Moondancer nodded in agreement. “Yes, they were quite ‘adorable.’ So ‘adorable’ that it caused you to endure some sort of existential crisis, remember?”

“I’m just saying that these are dogs, you know? Living, breathing creatures with rights and desires. They are not meant to prance around, sit still, and be judged. They should be doing dog things like barking or smelling stuff or…or… oh, I don’t know riding skateboards or something,” Autumn insisted with an exasperated expression.

This ‘dog show’ wasn’t turning out how she expected. It was a lot less of dogs being cute and having fun, and more of dogs being all prim and proper. Moondancer wasn’t too impressed either, despite going in with low expectations.

“Do dogs where you come from regularly ride skateboards?” Moondancer questioned, in the same sarcastic tone that Autumn was getting to know too well.

“No!” Autumn responded indignantly, “But who knows, maybe these Canterlot dogs can, but they’re not allowed to because they’re forced to jump through hoops all day!”

As much as Moondancer enjoyed a good, spirited conversation with Autumn, it was obvious from the kirin’s intensifying tone that this was getting out of hoof. Moondancer tried her best to apply a little reason to the situation.

“Calm down. These dogs are bred to do this, it's their job, their purpose. It’s the way things are,” explained the unicorn, hoping the words were getting through.

Autumn could see the sincerity in Moondancer’s eyes and opted to sulk quietly to herself. It was sad to think these dogs were bred to do ‘undog’ stuff for the rest of their lives. Autumn could only imagine what might have happened to her had she lived by that philosophy. If she had let them take her voice away or continued living alone because it’s just, “'the way things are.'”

It was no way to live, and Autumn knew that well. She knew what she had to do, she just had to be strong enough to do it.
“Moondancer, I’m getting us drinks. Be back in a bit,” Autumn announced suddenly, leaping from her seat and departing without waiting for a response.

Moondancer let her go without a fuss, eventually falling prey to the monotony of the day's events. She was completely zoned out, until she heard the sound of barking, lots of barking, approaching at a rapid pace. Chaos spread throughout the venue as hundreds of dogs, that had somehow escaped their cages, ran wild and unleashed themselves onto the unprepared streets of Canterlot.

“Hundreds of prized purebred dogs wreaked havoc on the streets. Causing one of the worst public safety hazards in Canterlot history. Do you know how hard that is to do here?” Moondancer reminded her for the hundredth time.

“Okay, okay. Keep your voice down please. We don’t need everypony knowing we were even there,” Autumn muttered while looking around cautiously.

“I will concede, not my best moment,” Autumn admitted, but she was quick to add. “But! That was one oopsie on my part. What about golf, you seemed to really enjoy that.”

“I did,” Moondancer admitted, tapping her hoof on the table. “Until you got us thrown out.”

“Moondancer! Please, please, please just make the shot!” Autumn begged, falling to her haunches in distress.

“I will as soon as I finish lining it up,” Moondancer muttered from the ground.

It seemed that the academic had found something to focus her brain on during this Autumn time. At first Autumn was overjoyed to see Moondancer so engaged and invested, but after seventeen straight holes of watching her calculate the proper shot based on angle, power, and environmental conditions, things started to get a little tedious.

“Moondancer?”

“I know, I know, I’m almost done,” Moondancer insisted as she tested the wind strength with her pocket anemometer.

“Please,” Autumn pleaded once more, completely deflating on the green.

“Okay, I’m ready,” Moondancer declared, positioning her putter for a proper shot.

She lightly tapped the ball with her club at the proper angle with the proper amount of power, suited quite properly for the wind conditions. The sweet sound of the ball rolling gracefully into the hole filled the silence, as the pair reveled in the final blow for radically different reasons.

“Okay, my turn!” Autumn cheered.

But her enthusiasm didn’t last long. Unless it was Moondancer trying to line up a shot, nothing seemed to last long. Autumn tried to be meticulous with her shots, it was a game after all, but she just couldn’t seem to catch a break. Autumn sighed and descended into the depths of the sand trap where her ball resided.

“Careful,” Moondancer cautioned, looking down at her from above.

“I will. Move a bit please,” Autumn directed, gesturing her club towards where she wanted Moondancer to stand.

Autumn took a deep breath and prayed to whatever deity there may be that this round would end in as few shots as possible.

The first shot was made.

Then, the second.

Then, the third.

And so on and so forth until the golf ball teetered on the very edge of the hole. Ragged, wretched, and exhausted Autumn lined up the easiest shot in the world.

Then she missed.

The pair watched incredulously as the ball soared back into the very sand trap that Autumn had spent an embarrassing amount of time trying to escape.

“It was probably the wind conditions; they are something else,” Moondancer mentioned, in a failed attempt at comfort.

“Hey, Moondancer?” Autumn asked with a disturbing lack of emotion, as it suddenly began to feel warmer.

“Yes?”

“Take a few steps away from me please.”

“We are lucky that they only banned us.”

“Hey, it's not like I burned the place to the ground. It was just a little torched grass. It grows back!”

“Right. It was a little arson instead of a lot of arson,” Moondancer replied sarcastically.

“I’m trying to work on it, okay? And enough of my oopsies, let's talk about your oopsies. Remember when you got us thrown out of that production of My Fair Filly?”

“Moondancer? Moondancer!”

Moondancer stirred in her seat, immediately correcting her posture, and trying to look like she wasn't falling asleep. It was an exceedingly hard facade to sell considering the way her glasses hung loosely on her muzzle and the light stream of drool that oozed from the side of her mouth, but Moondancer was determined to pull it off.

“Were you falling asleep?” Autumn asked with a mix of concern and annoyance.

“No, please be quiet.”

Moondancer’s heart stopped as Autumn glowered at her for a few seconds, staring directly into her soul. The last thing either of them wanted was for Autumn to go full nirik in the Princesses’ personal box seats at one of the most illustrious theaters in Canterlot.

The unicorn tried not to squirm as Autumn drew her hoof upward, and brought it unnervingly close to Moondancer’s face. Autumn, moving at an excruciatingly slow pace, pushed Moondancer glasses into the right position before commanding, “Do not fall asleep.”

Moondancer might have been upset about the scolding had she not been so frightened by Autumn’s intensity. She sank back into her chair and tried to find some amusement in the musical, but it was extremely difficult. Instead, she found herself looking at Autumn.

The kirin was completely enthralled by the music. She practically hung over the balcony as she watched, mouthing each song, and truly feeling each story beat. It was impressive, and kind of nice to see the kirin at ease which seemed to put Moondancer at ease as well. It wasn't long before the unicorn was drifted off once more, her head dropped lazily as she slumped forward.

And by some simple twist of fate, or the product of an overactive mind, or the spasm of the wrong muscle, the sleeping Moondancer experienced a sudden magical discharge at the wrong place and wrong time.

“I was tired,” whined Moondancer with a pained expression.

Autumn rolled her eyes, having no sympathy for Moondancer’s discomfort. “You blew up Hollow Mic-stand during his most popular song!”

“On accident! Autumn time keeps me up too late, I need sleep.”

“Your name is Moon-dancer, you should know how to stay up and have fun with me. You don’t see me dozing off during Moondancer time.”

Moondancer’s brows furrowed for a second as she attempted to rebuff Autumn’s statement, but she couldn’t think of anything clever or sarcastic to say. The silence brought Autumn a deep sense of satisfaction, while Moondancer grew more miserable at being stumped. The unicorn’s complexion turned a few shades redder as she buried her face in her hooves.

Her words were muffled but discernible, “Well, what's the plan for today then?”

“Something you might actually enjoy. Do you know of Tilted Canvas? He is having an exhibition at the Canterlot Museum of Modern Art today!”

“Titled Canvas, the performance artist?” Moondancer asked, trying to remember anything about Tilted’s past works. “I’m definitely familiar with the name, but I have not studied his work yet.”

“Well, this is an opportunity for both of us. It's gonna be good!”

To put it in the nicest way possible, Tilted Canvas’ performance was bad. One might even say terrible. Or maybe, Autumn was just not cultured enough to understand the complexities of Tilted’s…’masterpiece.’ The ponies around her, art connoisseurs so to speak, seemed to get it. They certainly hummed and nodded a lot while pressing their forehooves to their chins in contemplation.

Autumn had tried to do the same, but it was hard not to gawk in total bewilderment. The idea behind it seemed straight forward, but the execution left a lot to be desired. Tilted Canvas had gone through the process of learning every minute detail about his conception and birth. Having acquired this knowledge, he sought to curse hundreds of onlookers with this unfortunate recreation of his own creation.

Autumn was not sure what weirded her out more, the uncanny apparition of Tilted’s father that was produced by a series of spells cast by a gang of interns, or the fact that Tilted had decided to play his own mother.

After hours of watching the excruciating display, the grand final came with the ‘birth’ of Tilted Canvas. The artist tore his way out of the large bubble covered in felt. He came out hollering, screaming as he fought his way out. Emerging from the wreckage in a splash of assorted fluids, he hobbled forward and cried out.

“Torn from my mother's womb I am born once more! Now mother, I call upon thee. I require sustenance!”

There was a caw of a bird and a cascade of colorful feathers from above. A massive marionette of a bird lowered from the ceiling, and Tilted eagerly awaited its descent with an open mouth. Autumn had nothing against the miracle of life, she actually found it quite beautiful, but watching a grown stallion being fed by a bird puppet wasn’t how she wanted to spend her Saturday afternoon.

She turned to Moondancer with a cringe. “Do you want to lea- oh! What happened to you!”

Autumn involuntarily backed up as she looked at the red splatter that coated the entire front half of Moondancer's body. Moondancer slowly turned to her but said nothing. The poor thing had received the worst of Tilted’s ‘afterbirth’ and probably feared getting the goo in her mouth.

Autumn chuckled nervously. “So, would you consider this a me oopsie for picking this, or a you oopsie for standing in the …um… splash zone.”

Moondancer Time(s)

The following paper documents my scientific study of the pony species (Equus ferus caballus). My primary subject will be one Moondancer, an adult unicorn mare with a lemon-yellow coat, red and purple mane, and a pair of majestic eyebrows. Her cutiemark is of a crescent moon, representing her aptitude for magic. My subject is quite intelligent and seeks to use me as a subject in her own rese-

“What are you doing?” Moondancer asked, as she levitated a stack of books onto her workbench.

Unperturbed by the interruption, Autumn dipped her quill into a nearby inkpot and flashed a wry smile. “I've been conducting research and taking notes,” she answered matter-of-factly, mimicking the same tone that Moondancer often used.

“And what research have you been conducting exactly?” Moondancer questioned with a frown and raised eyebrow.

“I have been researching you, of course. It's only fair that I take notes on you while you take notes on me,” Autumn explained.

Moondancer sighed and cringed. “Notes on me? I fail to see how that could be productive. I’m not particularly interesting.”

“Au contraire my unicorn friend,” Autumn declared defiantly, flipping through the pile of papers she had been compiling, “You say that you are not interesting, yet I already have so much on you. Listen to what I wrote about you two weeks ago.”

Today, as my subject and I neared the end of ‘Moondancer time’ and wrapped up our study on my aptitude for teleportation, I observed some peculiar behavior. She worked diligently and silently during her final hour. I tried to make conversation, but my subject stubbornly ignored my prompts. The only acknowledgement of my existence came from the occasional glance in my direction. Although it is common for my subject to be taciturn, this quietness proved to be somewhat creepy. Hoping to understand the sudden shift, I approached the issue with level-headedness and total professionalism.

“Moooooondancer? Why won’t you talk to me?” Autumn whined, slumping over and pressing her head into Moondancer’s workbench.

Moondancer, who was carefully maneuvering a quill in her magic, cast a look at Autumn. She was silent as she scrutinized Autumn with her purple eyes, measuring each feature with a razor-sharp stare. When she finally looked away, she continued gently gliding her quill across the page, and Autumn became silent. A few minutes passed, until Moondancer finally stopped writing and Autumn leaned in to look at what was so important.

“Is that me?” Autumn asked in awe as Moondancer began to clean up her space.

There were beautifully drawn sketches of Autumn from various angles and distances on the page. Autumn was amazed by the amount of detail and attention given to each image, from the many strokes that captured the curvature of her curly mane to the texturing of the scales on her back.

“It’s supposed to be. Drawing isn’t exactly my strong suit, but it helps to have models and images alongside data,” Moondancer said unassumingly, unaware of the quality art she had just created.

Autumn shook her head incredulously. “What! No, this is actually pretty good. I could tell that you drew me,” she explained with a sheepish grin, “Although, you might have drawn me too well.”

“‘Too well?’” Moondancer asked, concerned about what errors she may have made.

“Well yeah. I look… I guess… I think I look a lot better in this picture than I probably do in real life.”

Moondancer gave her work a cursory glance before shaking her head and saying, “Not at all. I simply drew what I see when I look at you.”

“So, if I look good here,” Autumn asked, gesturing to the sketches before pointing to herself. “Then I just look good. In your eyes at least.”

Moondancer seemed to grimace for a split second before turning away from Autumn. Her face grew warm as she cleared her throat. “Yes, I guess you could say that.”

Autumn finished reading her passage with a pleased expression, which Moondancer didn't share.

“So, in this ‘study’ you discovered that…” Moondancer began without finishing, waiting for Autumn to fill in the blanks.

“I found that you are good at drawing,” Autumn explained, grinning mischievously, “And that you think I’m pretty.”

Moondancer briefly wore the same troubled expression she had two weeks prior, before snorting indignantly and muttering with a reddened face, “I never said that. I just drew what I saw. Being good at drawing is not interesting.”

Autumn tapped her chin as she flipped through a few pages and finally settled on one. “Okay. Well, what about what I learned later that week.”

Today my subject and I ran into a minor mishap in the laboratory that may have snowballed into a major mishap. There is no benefit in searching for the ‘culprit’ of this misfortune since everything turned out fine in the end. Perhaps, one could say I was at fault for knocking over those chemicals and trying not to draw attention to it. Or one could say my subject was at fault for leaving me unattended. Ultimately, we should focus on the fascinating creature that this minor error created. Who could have predicted that a dragonfly would react so volatilely to the puddle and metamorphose into some pony-sized, fire breathing abomination.

“Moo-”

“Shh!”

Autumn grunted as she found Moondancer’s shaking hoof firmly planted over her muzzle. She was just trying to apologize for her clumsiness, but Moondancer wasn’t having it. The abrasive scent of smoke wafted throughout the tower, as objects were charred and scorched. Autumn and Moondancer huddled among the rows of bookshelves as the dragonfly, or Monsterfly as Autumn named it, slowly stalked the aisles. Autumn could hear the twitch of its membranous wings as it approached, dragging its large, elongated abdomen across the carpet. Autumn could see sweat dripping from Moondancer’s face, despite the unicorn's countenance staying determined and fearless.

Once the Monsterfly came close to finding their location, Moondancer turned and spoke frantically, “You're not safe here. Once it wraps this corner, I’ll send you away. I’ll cast a shield spell and cover you. Get help immediately.”

“Bu-” Autumn’s words were cut short as a light pink aura enveloped her, and she materialized in the middle of the Castle Court. Castle guards stopped in confusion, staring at the lone kirin with equal bewilderment. Autumn slapped a hoof to her forehead and finished her sentiment to nopony in particular.

“But, I’m fire-proof.”

“Aside from learning about the disturbingly slow response time of the Canterlot Fire Department, you learned that I am brave and skilled at magic,” Moondancer proposed sardonically.

“Nope, I learned that you are just as capable of doing dumb things as everypony else.”

Moondancer frowned in irritation. “I was just protecting us from a notable threat.”

“Well, I don’t need to be protected. Considering that I can burst into flames at a moment's notice, you should have known that kirin's are pretty flame resistant.”

“Okay then, I guess I am ‘dumb,’ so is almost everypony else. Honestly, not too interesting.”

“Fine, fine. But how about what happened the week after.”

Today, my subject has finally been discharged from the hospital, and seeks to gather new materials to replace objects that were sadly incinerated during last week's ‘incident.’ So, for today’s ‘Moondancer time’ we traversed the streets of Canterlot purchasing new items after spending a few tedious hours filing an insurance claim. We primarily searched for replacement books, using a list of what was lost to guide our way, but one particular book evaded us for many hours before we located it at a small used bookstore.

“We finally found it,” Moondancer triumphantly announced, holding the book in her hooves with a pleased expression.

Autumn leaned in to get a closer look, reading the title aloud and making an observation, “Star Weaver’s Collection of Fairy Tales and Fables. This looks like a book for fillies and colts.”

Autumn didn’t find issue with Moondancer’s book of choice, she was just surprised by it. The other books on Moondancer’s list were textbooks and encyclopedias.

“That is correct. It's strange but…” Moondancer began, growing a bit flustered during her answer. “I grew up reading Star Weaver’s rendition of stories. Twilight and I used to read them all the time. They’re comforting, and I like to have a copy of them in my workspace at all times.”

“Aw, how cute!” Autumn cooed, much to Moondancer's embarrassment.

She was always pleased to learn more about Moondancer. It was apparent from the condition of the storybook that the series was old, which explained why finding copies was so difficult. The two prepared to purchase the book when Moondancer suddenly stopped and peered around a corner.

“I see you watching us. Can I help you with anything?” Moondancer asked, peaking her head behind an aisle of books.

A little colt emerged from behind the corner, he looked up at them with big, innocent eyes. Autumn would have never noticed him had Moondancer not pointed him out. The colt sniffled and wiped his nose with a hoof, refusing to answer Moondancer’s question.

Moondancer didn’t take offense, opting to remain casual and calm. “I know a bookworm when I see one. Do you like Star Weaver’s stories?”

The colt nodded.

“You know this is a bookstore? If you want the book, you can buy it and keep it for good.”

The colt nodded again.

“But I’m guessing that’s not so easy for you?”

The colt nodded once more before casting his eyes to the floor.

It didn’t take long for Moondancer to gently place the book at his hooves along with plenty of bits to purchase it and more. The colt looked up at her with awe. Moondancer lowered herself to be at his level.

“Do me a favor, put those bits and that book to good use. You are clearly an intelligent child, way too intelligent to be pulling off petty scams like this. Go ahead and tell your little friends to give Autumn her bit pouch back. I’ve given you two more than enough.”

Autumn looked at Moondancer quizzically before turning her attention back to the little colt. All innocence seemed to drain from the child’s face as he jerked his head to the side abruptly. A filly seemed to appear from nowhere, holding Autumn’s bit pouch in her muzzle. Autumn was flabbergasted, she could have sworn that her pouch was securely tucked into her saddlebags, she hadn’t even noticed the pickpocket. The filly plopped the pouch down at the kirin’s hooves and joined her partner in crime.

“I hope you two see this as an opportunity to change your lives. You can be more than this I promise,” Moondancer assured, trying to sound wise and strong.

However, the colt didn’t look convinced. “Easy for you to say, but my cutiemark is literally for petty crime.”

Moondancer’s expression dropped as she glanced at the colts cutiemark, it was an image of a hoof pulling a wallet out of (presumably) a neighboring pony’s saddlebag. She turned to his accomplice.

“You too?,” Moondancer asked, already dreading the answer.

“Yeh,” answered the filly matter-of-factly. "Thanks for the book, lady, but we’ll keep doing crime.”

The filly gestured for the colt to follow, and the pair left. They took the book and the bits, despite not actually paying for the book as they departed. In their wake, they left two deeply confused and troubled individuals to contemplate in silence.

“And you learned?”

“That you are kind,” Autumn answered with a smile.

“I was just being a decent pony. It's not a big deal and far from interesting,” Moondancer countered with a shrug.

“Fine, you can be right about this, okay? You are deeply uninteresting and possibly the most dull and boring pony I have ever met. Happy?” Autumn asked haughtily.

“Yes,” Moondancer answered equally as haughtily.

There was a tenuous silence between the two before Moondancer registered what Autumn had actually said.

“Wait.”

Their Time

“So, what’s the agenda for today?” Autumn questioned, resting her head in her hooves. “Determining how the environmental pressures of the Peaks of Peril might have impacted kirin? Trying to understand why kirin never developed cutie marks? Revisiting our hypothesis on why unicorns and kirin have such distinct horn shapes?”

Moondancer placed a few beakers and flasks onto her desk, inspecting them closely with a smile. “All very interesting suggestions, but no. I have decided that today will be a little different, a little more ‘fun and exciting.’”

Autumn sighed and pouted, feeling a little saddened that that minor comment was the one Moondancer recalled most frequently. “You're still upset about that?”

Moondancer shook her head. “Not upset, just… challenged. I want to show you that science can be exciting and fun too.”

Feeling relieved and curious, Autumn asked, “What do you have in mind?”

“Something I think you would enjoy,” Moondancer began to explain, placing several bouquets of flowers onto her desk. “Remember when you talked about using Foal’s breath to single-hoofedly rescue your village?”

Autumn tugged at a few of the curls in her fluffy mane. “I do, but it wasn’t that big of a deal. Foal’s breath is used for all sorts of kirin remedies.”

Moondancer shook her head and scoffed. “It is a big deal. Autumn, you saved your village with your own intellect by finding a cure. You took what was known and expanded upon it. Not only are you a hero, but you are a scientist and researcher.”

“You really think so?” Autumn questioned, still horribly ill-prepared when Moondancer gave her casual comments.

“Of course. I would not have said it if it were not true,” Moondancer confirmed. “So, for today’s Moondancer time, I thought we might do some brewing with flowers and other substances for fun. Uh…does that…sound fun?”

Moondancer’s tone lost confidence as she neared the end of her comment. It took a moment for Autumn to realize that the shift was probably because the kirin was awkwardly staring at Moondancer rather than answering. The unicorn had just looked very at ease and comfortable, it was nice. Autumn was quick to figuratively and literally shake it off, answering with her usual cheer.

“Yeah, that sounds awesome! Let’s get started!”

One of the many things that Autumn had learned about Moondancer in their time together was that the unicorn was terrible at keeping track of time, especially if she was focusing on her work. She usually had to remind Moondancer that her half of their time was up, although she also usually let Moondancer go a little bit over. But on this day, Autumn saw no need to advocate for her time to start. It didn’t feel too important since Moondancer Time was turning out to be quite enjoyable.

There was a noticeable glimmer in Moondancer’s eyes as they talked about the assortment of flowers that she had gathered. She knew so much about so many things, but she was always open to learning more. Luckily, Autumn knew quite a bit too and she shared her knowledge with equal enthusiasm. She described the types of flowers commonly found at the Peaks of Peril and the pair found differences in names and cultural significance for the flowers between the ponies and kirins.

Eventually, night fell, and the lab dimmed but the conversation remained lively. Autumn described how important brewing was in her village since the use of magic from their horns was not as highly regarded among the kirin as it was among unicorns.

Moondancer scribbled a note onto her scroll and asked, “Do you think your struggles with learning more advanced spells are because the kirins around you only used levitation and nothing more?”

Autumn hummed and sipped at the jasmine tea that the pair brewed together. “Perhaps. I don’t think us kirin ever needed to go beyond simple spells. Despite its scary name, my home is beautiful and bountiful. Canterlot is marvelous, but I do miss the natural wonder of the Peaks of Peril.”

“I could only imagine,” Moondancer mumbled, firmly gripping her teacup in her forehooves. “Will you ever return?”

Giggling to herself lightly, Autumn brushed her hoof against Moondancer’s shoulder amicably. “Of course, it's my home! Honestly, I’ll probably be heading back soon. That way I can get out of your mane.”

Out of my mane? Why would she think that? Moondancer thought to herself, chugging the rest of her tea.

Something about Autumn’s words were unsettling to Moondancer, and she wasn’t sure why. It was a reasonable expectation. Moondancer knew better than anypony that ponies grow apart, they go their separate ways, and start new phases in their lives. Sometimes, ponies stay in contact, and other times they don't. That was life. But why did Moondancer feel so surprised that Autumn was not staying in Canterlot?

Moondancer massaged her temple as Autumn happily chewed on a hooful of honeysuckles. She looked around her study in search of a distraction. They had crafted a variety of things over the last few hours, brewing a few elixirs and oils meant to improve health, scented candles, and delicious teas. Moondancer flipped through the book containing all the recipes they had been using, looking for a tea recipe they had not attempted yet.

Right when she landed on a tea recipe that was supposed to reduce anxiety, the cause of said anxiety spoke up.

“Are you okay? You’ve been making a face, are you in pain?” Autumn asked with noticeable concern. She used a hoof to gently hold and maneuver Moondancer’s head.

Moondancer quickly pulled away feeling warm and unwell. “I’m fine, it's just a small headache.”

“It’s not the flower smell, is it? Maybe we should call it a night?”

“No, no! I’m fine,” Moondancer insisted, becoming more frantic as Autumn’s concern grew.

Making tea wasn’t too difficult, most recipes called for a few petals, some water, and a source of heat. Moondancer looked away and busied herself with the tea, obtaining hoofuls of the blue flowers and stuffing them into a kettle and adding water. A small light flickered once Moondancer ignited the bunsen burner that they used to boil their water.

Moondancer, with her hardened face and furrowed brow, seemed to complete this task with her normal intensity and focus. But Autumn knew better now, she noticed that Moondancer’s movements lacked their usual calculated eloquence. Her actions were rough and abrupt, lacking their usual thoughtfulness. The unicorn hadn’t measured the number of petals used and spilled water all over the table as she poured it.

Moondancer tapped her hoof erratically and impatiently against the table while the tea boiled, and barely giving it time to cool before pouring it into two teacups. She was already drinking it when she gave Autumn a cup. Her expression was obscured from the kirin’s view as she threw her head back to drink.

Autumn warily sipped the tea and was unimpressed by its sharp and earthy taste. She smacked her lips and tried another disappointing taste.

“Moondancer, does this taste…strange to you?” she asked suspiciously.

“It has a peculiar tanginess, but it isn’t bad. I’ve never had this type of tea before,” Moondancer mumbled before taking a long swig of the tea and going to pour a second cup.

Autumn skeptically took a few sips while reading over Moondancer’s recipe. The book was well-worn, torn, and ripped at the edges. The words were legible but faded, barely standing out against the yellowed pages and dim candlelight. After reading the type of tea, Autumn searched for a remaining flower to compare it with. Her jaw dropped as she came to an alarming realization.

“Moondancer?” she questioned, with growing unease. “You put Blue Somnambulan Lotus in here, the recipe calls for Blue Water Lilies.”

“Oh,” Moondancer muttered with a gulp. “That’s not too bad. Water lilies and lotuses are the same.”

Autumn shook her head. “Not quite. Water lilies float on water, while lotuses hover above it.”

Moondancer blinked a few times, clearly not getting it. Autumn continued with a sigh. “I’d also say that lotuses are a bit more…uh… potent.”

Moondancer blinked again but seemed to be getting closer to understanding. “Define potent.”

“Potent like uh…in ancient times ponies used to drink it to relax and have fun without feeling…inhibited,” Autumn slowly explained, wincing as she did.

The gears in Moondancer’s head began to spin and something suddenly clicked. “Are you saying it was used…as a drug?”

“Not a drug,” Autumn assured, before thinking it over and adding, “At least I don’t think so.”

Moondancer’s complexion seemed to whiten as she slowly set her teacup on the table. She rushed towards the nearest bookcase, recklessly throwing books to the ground as she searched. When her rampage finished, she ripped upon a book, her eyes zipped across the page as she read it over.

“Okay, okay. It was kind of a drug but not really. There is no empirical evidence to support that it is effective. Only anecdotes from many moons ago. I’m sure we’ll be fine,” Moondancer announced, pulling the book close to her for comfort.

Suddenly, Moondancer’s brief and tenuous peace was disturbed by Autumn’s seemingly uncontrollable snickering.

“What?” Moondancer asked, uneased by the contrast in their moods.

“It's nothing,” Autumn said between giggles. But it clearly wasn’t nothing. Seeing a growing fear on Moondancer’s face, Autumn continued lightly, “It’s just...do you have any idea how slow you were just talking.”

Autumn Blaze burst out into another laughing fit, expressing a radically different emotion from the obvious shock and dread that Moondancer was experiencing. The kirin picked up her teacup and made a cheers gesture with it. She finished it and poured herself another.

Seeing that Moondancer was looking at her with a slack-jawed and bemused expression, Autumn shrugged and explained, “What? I’m not just gonna sit here and let you have all the fun…”

If Autumn had continued talking, Moondancer couldn’t tell. It was hard to hear much of anything over the sound of laughter that reverberated off of the walls. The shrill and jovial ringing swarmed in Moondancer’s ears and ignited a warm glow in the pit of her stomach. She took a few cursory looks around the rapidly expanding room in search of the sound, only to realize that the laughter was her own.

After what may have been days, hours, or seconds of floating in a radical and lofty vibe, two faint voices spoke out amongst the crickets and cicadas. The full moon was overhead, and the stars decorated the night sky as gorgeous spectacles of light. On the balcony of what was formerly Princess Twilight Sparkle’s study, sat a pony and a kirin engaged in deep, philosophical conversation.

“Hey…hey Moondancer?”

“...”

“Moondancer?”

“...”

“Moony?”

“Yeah?” Moondancer responded lightly, unsure if her words were actually being spoken this time. She felt an odd sense of self-awareness after hearing the mellowness in her tone.

Autumn laughed for no particular reason, as the pair laid on their backs next to each other, watching the sky.

Autumn slowly turned to face Moondancer and asked, “Moondancer…why do they call you moon dancer?”

“I dunno…it just happened to me I guess,” Moondancer articulated brilliantly, “I think my parents really like to dance…and do astronomy.”

Autumn smiled at the sky and hummed. “That’s cool. I bet having a kid as smart as you makes your parents really proud.”

“I guess, but I know lots of smart ponies. I went to school for smart ponies and I’m friends with one of the smartest ponies in all Equestria,” Moondancer stated, thinking of all the incredible things that Twilight had done in such a short time. Moondancer was happy to call Twilight her friend again, but it was hard to think that even her best work would never be as significant as Twilight’s most minor accomplishment.

“Don’t do that,” Autumn chastised.

Moondancer looked at her quizzically but couldn’t think of anything to say. Drinking the tea gave her a sense of relaxed weightlessness, but she was beginning to understand what Autumn meant when she described a lack of inhibition. It was easy for Moondancer to bury herself in her work to escape introspection and deep reflection, but now she couldn’t do much of anything other than think and feel. Her eyes glistened as she was overcome with old and confusing feelings.

Fearing that she might have hurt Moondancer’s feelings, Autumn filled in the silence with an explanation, “You always do that. Downplay yourself and your actions. I’m not interesting, I’m not kind, I’m just as smart as everypony else. You should just take the compliment.”

Autumn sat up and grabbed one of Moondancer’s forehooves in her own. “I’m sure that growing up and being best friends with a literal princess wasn’t easy, but just know that you’re your own pony. And I think that pony is plenty good. I would be happy to call her a friend one day.”

Moondancer used her free hoof to rub her eyes, momentarily comforted by Autumn’s words before fixating on a specific part.

“You don’t think we’re friends already?” she asked quietly.

Autumn released Moondancer’s hoofs and kneaded the ground with her forehooves. “Honestly, I’m not sure. I always feel like I’m bothering you. It’s clear that you see me as a ‘subject.’ An object to be observed and studied, not an individual, or a friend. You probably won’t miss me when I leave.”

“No,” Moondancer murmured.

That wasn’t right at all. A dismal feeling sank to the pit of her stomach as she was filled with deep sadness. She knew what it felt like to care about somepony more than they cared about you, and dreaded to think that she was causing somepony else the same heartbreak. Maybe there were times when Moondancer was trying to create distance between the two of them, but Autumn always seemed to win out in the end. The kirin was much braver than Moondancer. She did and said what she wanted when she wanted to. Moondancer admired that about her and wished that she could do the same.

She licked her lips, sat up, and spoke with urgency, “Of course I’ll miss you. I have spent almost every day for weeks with you. Listening to your endless stream of words and going to all your dumb social events.”

“Hey,” Autumn muttered, irritated by the small insult buried within many kind words. She frowned but waited for Moondancer to continue.

“Through it all, I have watched you approach all things with the utmost curiosity and vibrancy,” Moondancer explained, suddenly becoming aware of how nervous she was feeling. Her heart was pounding as she thought of the many misadventures the two of them had endured together. “I saw your brilliance and your stubbornness and your assertiveness. And I have come to see you as a friend…and that terrifies me. You have accomplished in weeks what has taken others years to do, and I don’t know why or what that means.”

“You don’t know why?” Autumn asked, also thinking of all the days they had spent together.

“I don’t, but I want to find out,” Moondancer confessed earnestly.

“So, we are friends?”

“Yes.”

“And you don’t find me annoying?”

“Most of the time, yes.”

“And you do think I’m pretty?”

A quick, and probably genuine, response was caught in Moondancer’s throat as the unicorn snapped her mouth shut. Autumn flashed her a cheeky grin and giggled, knowing that that question was quickly becoming her favorite of all time. Moondancer, as usual became flustered by the question, but also joined in on Autumn’s giggling.

In between laughs she spoke amicably, “Knock it off.”

“C’mon, just throw a dog a bone.”

“Fine,” Moondancer relented, looking at Autumn with a relaxed expression. “I won’t say you’re beautiful, but I will say this. You are extraordinary. Not you in a referring to all kirins sense, but in an individual sense. Autumn Blaze, you are extraordinary. And I am happy to call you a friend.”

It had been weeks since Moondancer first spoke those words to her, yet Autumn was still completely struck by them. Although, they were a little different. Moondancer was looking right at her, giving Autumn all of her attention and focus. Seeing her as she was, despite not wearing her glasses. Autumn couldn’t think of any words to say, so she hugged Moondancer instead. She squeezed the unicorn tight, pulling her face into her fluffy mane and rocking them slightly from side to side.

Moondancer didn’t fight to be released, letting herself be smothered in Autumn warmth. She moved her head just enough to allow herself to sputter out. “So, now that you know you’re not a bother to me. Do you think you might want to stay in Canterlot?”

Autumn chuckled, gripping Moondancer’s shoulders and pushing her a forelegs length away. “Absolutely not. I have to go home at some point, and the ponies around here are so stuffy and snooty, no offense.”

Moondancer deflated in Autumn’s hold, slumping her shoulders and dejectedly mumbled, “Oh.”

Autumn gave her friend a few shakes and a reassuring smile. “You know…I don’t mind your snootiness. If you wanted to, you could come with me. You could be the first Equestrian scholar to do an in-depth analysis on the Peaks of Peril. There'll be lots of things to study and document.”

It was scary to make such a bold gesture, but Autumn had to try. It was apparent that she was rewarded for her audacity, despite the lack of a verbal answer, because the answer was already showing on Moondancer’s face. The unicorn was beaming at her, and in her eyes glistened an almost tangible excitement. Autumn was certain that the unicorn was already hypothesizing and coming up with research proposals in her head. Autumn would have been perfectly happy with spending the rest of the night looking at Moondancer’s dorky smile, but the unicorn seemed to have other plans.

Moondancer stood up and offered Autumn a hoof. “Let’s go.”

Autumn looked around in confusion. She knew that Moondancer wasn’t exactly herself at the moment, but she couldn’t even guess where they could possibly go at this hour. Nonetheless, she took her hoof and stood beside her.

“What do you have in mind?” she asked, deeply curious about what Moondancer was planning.

Moondancer smirked with uncharacteristic confidence and winked. “Well, you asked me why they call me moon dancer, so I’ll show you.”

“You burned down the Round Pen NightClub!” Twilight shouted a bit too loudly.

Moondancer wasn’t sure if her old friend was asking them a question or scolding them, but she was much too groggy to care. It was apparent that she had mostly recovered from last night’s teatime, but she still felt a little dazed and numb. Autumn seemed to be faring about the same as she studied Twilight with a sleepy expression.

“It was an accident, I’m still trying to manage my temper,” Autumn stated, rubbing her eyes. “Anyways, it didn’t completely burn down, it was a small fire.”

Twilight rubbed her temple with a hoof, clearly irritated by the early morning scroll delivery and subsequent flight to Canterlot. She knew that being the Princess of Friendship meant actually being a friend, but she really didn’t want to spend her Sunday morning bailing Moondancer and Autumn out of jail in an entirely different city because Moondancer wasn’t in the right state of mind to actually contact a local friend.

Twilight methodically inhaled and exhaled to calm her nerves, knowing that she should be happier that Moondancer was safe than angry that she was in trouble. She made a point to give each of the on duty royal guards a quick thank you and apology before departing with her friends.

When they finally found themselves back at Canterlot Castle, Twilight finally felt calm enough to speak, “What happened to you two?”

Autumn and Moondancer exchanged looks, trying to silently convince the other to take the lead and confess. Explaining this type of blunder required a careful and steady hoof, like disarming a bomb.

Hoping that years of friendship might soften the blow, Moondancer answered somberly, “I decided to try something new and took Autumn to a nightclub. Everything was fine, until this one stallion started getting too pushy.”

“Yeah, he was being a creep, and getting a little too comfortable, so I told him to leave but he wouldn't quit. So, after a while I just kinda…burst into flames,” Autumn interjected.

Twilight nodded a few times as she listened. Autumn’s reaction was an intense one, but not a completely unreasonable one. Even the Princess of Friendship was known to burst into flames from time to time.

Twilight spoke with candor, “I’m relieved to see that you’re safe, and I appreciate that you called me in your time of need. But promise me that I don’t have to worry about the legal troubles of my Canterlot Friends too. I already have a bunch of ponies in Ponyville that I have to bail out every other week.”

Moondancer smiled and looked at Autumn fondly. “You won’t, I promise. And I don’t even think I’ll be in Canterlot for a little while.”

Twilight looked at the kirin and pony curiously. “You’re not?”

Autumn jumped at the opportunity to tell Twilight the good news, “Nope, she’s coming home with me. Now I get to be the ambassador!”

Twilight shook her head in disbelief, but not in a negative way. She was always happy to see a new and blossoming friendship, especially for somepony as deserving as Moondancer. She was deeply intrigued, wondering what might have brought the opposing personalities together.

”Wow. I had no idea you two got so close. What have you been up to?”

Autumn placed a hoof over Moondancer’s shoulder and spoke casually, “Oh nothing much, just spending a little time together.”

“Well, I hope you too didn’t spend too much time in the city. I’ve heard that a lot of weird things have been happening lately. I’m sure you heard about the dogs that got loose in the streets, and the giant dragonfly that torched the west wing of the castle,” Twilight mentioned, hoping that the bizarre situations hadn’t interfered with Autumn’s trip.

But when Autumn began laughing nervously and Moondancer refused to meet her gaze, Twilight became painfully aware of the truth. Any joy that she felt evaporated as she shook her head in disappointment and sighed. There was a burden that came with knowing the full extent of your friends' crimes, and for Twilight that burden seemed to grow heavier every day.

“You know,” Twilight started, accepting the weight upon her shoulders. “Maybe some time away from Canterlot is a good thing.”