The Wishday Waltz

”Hmm hmm, hmm hmm, hmm hmm, hmm hmm~”

Misty hummed quietly to herself as she stood on the stone archway near the edge of town and observed through her binoculars as ponies busily buzzed around like bees. Maretime Bay's beaches were deserted during the winter season, as ponies instead opted to crowd the streets and all cooperate to beautify the town. Posey, Dahlia, and other earth ponies worked together and used their magic to grow fresh flora, unicorns levitated string lights across lampposts, and pegasi flew garlands and wreaths high overhead to affix them to spandrels and window frames.

"Wow, those ponies are fast. Half of Maretime Bay is already ready for Winter Wishday." Misty lowered her binoculars and stuffed them into her saddlebag. She nudged Madame Taffytail to center it, ensuring it wouldn't fall off of the edge of the arch's stone railing. "I really wish I had some way to help, but without magic, well… I’d just be a burden..."

The little toy regarded her with its emotionless eyes. As pristine white snow sprinkled from the clouds and lazily drifted through the air, some snowflakes settled among the wispy hairs of its tennis ball head. Misty frowned at it.

"I know my friends are at the Brighthouse now, and I know they’re in there talking and probably playing games, and I know they’re probably waiting for me, but, you know, I just… I can't deal with all of their questions.”

“Hey! Did you craft that? Oh my hoofness!” From behind, an unidentified, disembodied voice eagerly shared their approval.

Misty yelped and jumped in surprise, quickly spinning around midair. “Izzy! Y–You—” She gulped. “You scared me!”

“Sorry.” Izzy smiled apologetically. She rested her forelegs over the arch’s railing and nodded to the little toy beside her left foreleg. “You crafted that yourself? I didn’t know you were crafty!”

“I’m definitely not crafty. I don't craft—especially not like you.” Misty chuckled self-consciously. “It’s just something I did for fun.”

“But that’s what the spirit of crafting is all about.” Izzy paused to glance upward at the evening sky, perhaps in an attempt to ascertain the time. “So, would you like to come back to the Brighthouse with me? You’re invited to the party, you know. You always were. You're free to show up whenever you like.”

"I know. But I can't. I’m sorry. I just have a lot of chores to do. I'm swamped with chores. It’s the holiday season, and, uh, ponies have… lots of… chores to do this time of year…? Especially when you’re doing it all yourself."

"Oh, so it's your turn this time? I know how that feels."

"'My turn'?” Misty paused as she considered what her friend meant. “But it's always my turn."

Izzy tsk-tsked and shook her head disappointedly. "You shouldn't let ponies push you around like that, Misty. If you’re living with other ponies, they should always do their fair share of the work.”

"I know that! I j–just meant to say it feels like it's always my turn! But i–it isn't a–actually, y'know, my turn... always. We, um, take turns all the time, she and me." She glanced aside sheepishly, and when she flicked her downcast eyes upward to check Izzy's reaction, she was met with persistent, knowing eye contact.

"I can help you talk to her, if you want."

"No! Thanks, but that's really not necessary. She's not a bully or anything."

Izzy smiled reassuringly. "I think I know where you're coming from. Fillies and colts in Bridlewood could be a little mean and assertive sometimes, even if they didn't intend to be. Then, sometimes, that assertiveness carries with you when you become an adult."

"When you were a filly?" Misty closed her eyes and pondered. She visualized a younger, more innocent version of her friend surrounded by a hostile crowd of jeering peers. Her ears folded sadly. "Every day? That sounds terrible. Is Bridlewood really that awful...?"

"No! Of course not, silly." Izzy waved her hoof dismissively. "Not everypony was like that. And, well, for those who were, I was the problem, really. Let's just say I did a lot of Jinxie things as a filly and leave it at that." When she noticed Misty frown and raise her hoof to object, she cleverly anticipated her friend's question and nodded. "Jinxie just means bad luck. There's a lot more to it than that, but that's basically all it is. Unicorns from my neck of the forest are very superstitious. But they're a big friendly bunch once you get to know them! And all of the Jinxie rules, too."

"What's it like there?"

"Why don't we talk about it at the party? Come on! Everypony's waiting for you!" Izzy waved her hooves excitedly.

Misty broke eye contact. She stepped forward several paces, reared onto her rear legs, and crossed her forelegs over the arch's stone barrier. “I can’t. Sorry. I'm super busy. I have stuff to do.”

"Hmm. What kind of friend would I be if I didn't respect your wishes?" Izzy hopped off of the stone railing. “So, you’re not a big fan of parties, are you?”

“Nope.” She hung her head, crestfallen.

“I have an idea. You don’t have to if you don’t want to, obviously, butttt… Would you like to come to Bridlewood with me?” Izzy nudged her shoulder. “Just the two of us. Two unicorns hanging out! In Bridlewood. In the evening. With the crystals to guide our way. Hiking through my side of Bridlewood. Like a mini adventure!"

Misty raised her head. “Well, I do like the idea of going on an adventure with just one other pony. Bridlewood isn’t super jam-packed with ponies like Maretime Bay, though, is it?”

“Not at this time. It’ll be just the two of us. On an itty bitty adventure,” Izzy insisted with a playful grin. “A teensie weensie little—”

“Alright, I get it!” Misty hopped off of the arch’s stone railing and resumed standing on all fours again. The lighthearted, foalish jesting encouraged a tiny smile to dance across her lips. “I’ll come, okay?”