All Day, Everyday.

Chapters

Prologue.
Chapter 1 - The Unexpected Flash.
Chapter 2 - Through the Muck and Rain.
Chapter 3 - The Day with Fluttershy and the Chants.
Chapter 4 - The Toffees Vs The Reds.
Chapter 5 - A Normal Morning turned Hectic.
—————————————————
—————————————————
Chapter 6 - Not the Bests of starts.
Chapter 7 - STOP POKING ME!
Chapter 8 - Bibs Vs Non-Bibs. (Half-Time)
Chapter 9 - Bibs Vs Non-Bibs. (Full-Time)
—————————————————
—————————————————
Chapter 10 - A Chaotic start to High School.
Interlude 1 - Two Sisters, One Broken Heart.
Chapter 11 - The Truth of the Matter.
Chapter 12 - A Legendary Line-up for the Ages.
Chapter 13 - Team Equestria Vs Team Earth.
Chapter 14 - The Rainbow, The Drunk and the Half-Human.
Chapter 15 - A theatrical Evening.
Chapter 16 - The Pony I Have Known All My Life.
Chapter 17 - The Toffees Vs The Garibaldi. (Half-time)
Chapter 18 - The Toffees Vs The Garibaldi. (Full-time)
Interlude 2 - The Advise, The Respite and The Personal Matter.
Bonus Chapter - Nightmare Night!
Chapter 19 - Amelia’s week.
Chapter 20 - An Honest Days Works.
Chapter 21 - The Promise.
Epilogue.
—————————————————

Prologue.

In the shadows of war, under a sky streaked with the scars of battle, the war unfolded with a grim relentlessness. The clouds, heavy with impending doom, seemed to weep sorrow into the thick air, which clung to every soldier like a suffocating shroud. Every breath drawn by the brave souls on the battlefield was a battle in itself, as they navigated through a world where the line between life and death blurred with each passing moment.

Nestled within the merciless embrace of the trenches, the earth beneath them scarred and gashed like the flesh of the world itself, soldiers of all ranks sought refuge. Here, in the mud-caked depths, stallions and mare, forever marked by the specter of conflict, found a momentary solace in their shared plight. They sat, shoulders touching, eyes vacant yet alert, waiting for the inevitable cry that would hurl them back into chaos.

Among them, a solitary figure—a young mare whose vibrant spirit had been shattered by the relentless tide of war—let out a scream that pierced the heavy air. Her delicate hands trembled violently as she pressed them to her ears, trying in vain to silence the endless cacophony of war that raged around her. Her eyes, wide and unseeing, were windows to a soul irrevocably marred by the horrors she had endured.

Around her, the other soldiers, each teetering on the brink of their own psychological abyss, attempted to distance themselves from her visible torment. They gripped their weapons tighter, not just as tools of war but as lifelines, anchoring them to a reality they could comprehend, away from the haunting visions that threatened to consume them.

The stains of battle—mud, blood, and the unspoken terrors of war—clung to every soldier, a testament not only to their physical struggles but to the deeper scars carved into their minds. In the darkest corners of their psyche, a primal force stirred—a darkness that emerged when fear overtook reason, transforming once-ordinary individuals into instruments of war, their humanity obscured by the shadow of survival.

As evening drew near, the soldiers gathered around a meager fire, its flickering light casting ghostly shadows across their drawn faces. The silence was palpable, each breath a whisper against the backdrop of distant artillery. It was then that a soft, melodious voice cut through the stillness—a voice so tender and out of place in such a harsh environment that it momentarily lifted the soldiers from their despair.

The voice belonged to a light green mare, her tone imbued with a haunting familiarity. She began to sing, her voice weaving through the crisp air, a forgotten melody from a world untouched by war. As the notes floated gently around them, a flicker of recognition sparked in the weary eyes of her comrades. Some didn't recognize the song but for some, memories buried beneath layers of grief and duty began to surface with each note sung.

How could they have forgotten? Tomorrow was Christmas Day, a celebration of peace and unity that had once brought them joy and light. The song, a reminder of lost innocence, stirred a deep, aching nostalgia in their hearts. For a brief, precious moment, the bleakness receded, replaced by a warmth that spread slowly among the gathered soldiers, even to those that wasn't familiar with the gentle tune. They were reminded of who they had been before the war redefined their existence.

Moved by the power of the song, one by one, some soldiers found their voices, joining the mare in a chorus that swelled through the trenches. It was not a song of joy, but one of defiant hope—a promise to one another that despite the darkness surrounding them, the spirit of Chrismas could still unite them, could still remind them of the light within each soul.

As the melody carried across the barren no-man’s-land, it reached the ears of those hidden in the shadows of the opposite trenches. To the astonishment of all, voices from the other side began to rise in harmony with theirs. In this moment of shared humanity, the harsh lines drawn by war began to blur, softened by the realization that music, that shared memories of peace, could bridge the deepest divides.

The green mare, tears mingling with the dirt on her cheeks, stood up, her voice stronger as she sang with her supposed enemies. This unexpected choir, a blend of voices from both sides of the conflict, transformed the night into a moment of profound unity and peace. In the heart of war, they found a fleeting, precious truce, bound not by treaties or negotiations, but by the simple, profound connections of their shared morals.

As the final notes of the song faded into the darkness, a solemn peace settled over the battlefield. The soldiers, whether friend or foe, were united in their weariness and their longing for peace. And in the heart of the mare, a dream took root—a dream of a world where such moments of unity would no longer be fleeting, but a lasting reality.

As the first light of dawn painted the sky with hues of pink and orange, casting a gentle glow over the ravaged battlefield, the green mare felt an unusual serenity envelop her. It seemed as though the very atmosphere had been softened by the melodic echoes of unity that had filled the night. With a resolute spark igniting her spirit, she knew the path she must take amidst the stark reality of war—a path fraught with personal peril, yet essential for peace.

In the eerie silence of the early morning, where the only movement was the occasional flutter of a bird's wing, the green mare took her chance. She swiftly scaled the rough, mud-slick walls of the trench, her movements causing heads to turn. The commanding sergeant’s voice thundered across the field, ordering her to return. But she pressed forward, her resolve as firm as the earth beneath her hooves.

From afar, the distant murmur of voices grew louder, and the ominous glint of rifle barrels pointed in her direction became visible. Detected by the enemy, her presence was now unmistakable. Yet, she continued, her pace steady and unwavering, one hand lofting her helmet high—the universal gesture of truce—while her other hand clutched a secret token of goodwill behind her back.

With every determined step she took, the surrounding air thickened with tension, charged with the silent questions of friend and foe alike. But then, cutting through the growing din, a commanding voice from the enemy side demanded silence. The battlefield quieted, all eyes turning to see a stallion, clad in a uniform unlike hers, rising from the opposing trench.

The green mare and the stallion moved toward each other, their steps measured and cautious, bridging the physical and metaphorical distance between their sides. Inspired by their leaders’ bravery, soldiers from both factions emerged, raising their hands not in defeat but in a sign of peace. What unfolded next was a scene few could have imagined—enemies extending hands not to strike, but to shake in friendship.

Laughter and voices filled the air, replacing the sounds of conflict. Soldiers exchanged family photos, assisted each other in grooming, and shared stories over the scars of war, forging bonds that transcended past animosities. In the midst of this newfound fellowship, the green mare's intention remained clear and focused.

Facing the stallion with a gentle smile, she opened her hand to reveal a simple ball—a symbol of playful competition and shared joy. Her eyes, alight with hopeful anticipation, conveyed the depth of her proposal, transcending the mere game it suggested.

“Fancy a game of football, partner?” she asked, her voice steady yet imbued with the emotion of the moment. This question was more than an invitation to play; it was an offer to rewrite their shared destiny, to lay down arms in favor of a game where the only sides taken were in sport, not war.

That day was known as the Match of Truce.

Chapter 1 - The Unexpected Flash.

All day, every day.

Playing football is indeed a fascinating experience, one that encompasses a love-and-hate relationship depending on the outcome of the game. It's a peculiar phenomenon where even scoring a remarkable hat-trick can be eclipsed by the disappointment of losing. The impact of defeat can linger, casting a shadow over the entire week as the longing for victory remains unfulfilled. Such is the nature of this fiercely competitive sport that we find ourselves addicted to, eagerly watching our favourite teams in action on television. A full 90 minutes of exhilarating entertainment that holds the power to shape our moods, either for the better or for the worse.

Two siblings understand that feeling well.

Meet Jason, an 18-year-old boy hailing from Liverpool, whose heart beats for the beautiful game of football. Ever since his days in primary school, he developed a deep passion for the sport that only grew stronger with time. Standing tall at 6'1, Jason possessed short brown hair and a neatly trimmed beard that accentuated his youthful features. His striking brown eyes shimmered with excitement and determination, framed by a pale white complexion.

As an avid supporter of Liverpool, Jason held a season ticket that granted him access to witness the team's thrilling matches at Anfield. Whenever his schedule allowed, he eagerly made his way to the stadium, soaking in the electrifying atmosphere and cheering on his beloved team.

But Jason's connection with football didn't end with being a devoted fan. He was also a skilled player himself, honing his talents on the field. Having earned a place in the professional ranks with Stoke City, Jason had established himself as a regular starting striker. In his debut season, his impressive performances yielded 14 goals and 4 assists in just 24 appearances, a remarkable achievement for someone so young. It was clear that his star was on the rise, and the future held great promise for this talented young player from Liverpool.

Introducing Amelia, the younger sister of Jason and another football enthusiast hailing from Liverpool. A self-proclaimed tomboy, Amelia found herself drawn to the sport, following in her brother's footsteps. Standing at an impressive 5'11, she possessed a striking appearance with long, dark brown hair cascading down her shoulders, complementing her captivating green eyes and fair complexion.

In a delightful twist of fate, Amelia's football allegiance diverged from her brother's. While Jason supported Liverpool, Amelia's heart belonged to their rivals, Everton Football Club. It was a source of great joy for her when she received the opportunity to participate in try-outs at Everton Academy. She showcased her skills as a goalkeeper, earning a spot in Everton's U16 team. Her talent and dedication had not gone unnoticed, as she was hailed as one of the best young female keepers in Knowsley.

In her debut season with Everton, Amelia demonstrated her prowess on the field. With an impressive save percentage of 78.3% and an outstanding record of 12 clean sheets in 20 appearances, she proved herself to be a formidable force between the goalposts. Her exceptional performance garnered attention and acclaim, solidifying her place within the Everton Football Club and setting the stage for a promising future in the sport.

Jason and Amelia's relationship was filled with a unique blend of love and rivalry, fuelled by various factors. The Liverpool vs Everton rivalry, the striker vs goalkeeper rivalry, and even the inherent competition between a brother and sister all contributed to a mini war between the two. Their clashes on and off the field were intense, driven by a burning desire to come out on top. While their mom saw football as just fun and games, Jason and Amelia viewed it with a different lens. Winning became their sole focus, and anything short of victory brought about an instant mood swing until the next match.

This fierce determination to win was instilled in them by their father, shaping their mindset and approach to the game. To Jason and Amelia, winning was everything. They poured their blood, sweat, and tears into their training, leaving no stone unturned in their pursuit of mastery in their respective roles. They honed their skills, developed a clear understanding of their responsibilities on the field, and embraced the competitive spirit that burned within them.

Amidst the rivalry and the relentless pursuit of victory, one thing remained certain: Jason and Amelia were united by their shared love for the sport. Their intense battles pushed them to improve and pushed each other to their limits. In the end, their competitive nature and unwavering dedication to winning would shape their footballing journeys and define their relationship as siblings.

Nothing will stop them from fulfilling their dream.

"Are ya ready, Sis? I hope ya know I'm not gonna go easy on ya, kidda.” With a mischievous grin on his face, Jason playfully taunted Amelia, dressed in an old, worn-out grey tracksuit. His football boots were laced up and ready for action, and he held a ball at his feet, a playful challenge in his eyes. It was a familiar scene, one that often marked the beginning of their football battles.

"I hope not, I'm not a kid anymore, y'know.” Unfazed by Jason's teasing, Amelia responded with a confident and cocky grin. She adjusted her goalkeeper gloves, ensuring that everything was in place as she stood in her element — the goalposts. This was her territory, her zone of control, and she was ready to showcase her skills and prove herself as a formidable goalkeeper.

Jason grinned. "Sound, let's get warmed up then, eh?" With a playful glint in his eyes, Jason took a step back and prepared to unleash a powerful strike towards Amelia. The ball left his foot, hurtling through the air with speed and precision, aimed directly at his sister. In that split second, Amelia's instincts kicked in, her trained reflexes taking over. She swiftly assessed the trajectory of the ball and reacted with lightning-fast reflexes, extending her gloved hands to make a clean catch. The impact of the ball meeting her hands reverberated through her body, a satisfying confirmation of her skill and agility.

"Come on, Jason. Your gonna have to do better than that to rattle me, lad." Amelia couldn't help but chortle in amusement as she confidently tossed the ball back to Jason.

"Oh don't worry, Sis. There's more comin' at ya hard.”

As the minutes turned into hours, Jason and Amelia continued to indulge in their shared love for football. They played with fervour, laughing and chatting animatedly about the latest happenings in the footballing world. Their passion for the sport was evident as they pushed themselves to the limit and beyond, relishing in the joy that came with each skilful move and well-executed play.

However, just as they were fully immersed in their training, an unexpected turn of events disrupted their routine. Dark clouds rolled in, casting a shadow over the field, and the wind picked up in intensity. The once-clear sky transformed into a foreboding grey, signalling the imminent arrival of a storm.

Jason, in the midst of a shot, felt the gust of wind disrupt his aim, causing the ball to veer wide of the goal. He shielded his eyes from the sudden storm, realising the need to prioritise their safety. "The weather's turned proper grim." Jason remarked, his voice filled with concern. "I reckon it's time to head back home before it starts pouring down."

"Sound, let's get goin', la!" Amidst the raging storm, Amelia's voice cut through the howling wind as she shouted, urging Jason to gather their belongings and seek shelter. Both of them were taken aback by the suddenness and intensity of the storm. It seemed to have appeared out of nowhere, catching them off guard. They had checked the weather app, which had only predicted grey clouds and a slight wind. Where did this unexpected tempest come from?

With a sense of urgency, they moved swiftly towards their bags, ready to make their escape. However, before they could even take their first step, a blinding white flash of light engulfed Amelia’s vision. In an instant, her bodies felt weightless, as if she were floating in a calm river, fluidly shifting and reshaping into something unfamiliar.

In the midst of the transformation, Amelia’s screams and cries for help were silenced. The only sound that permeated her senses was the rush of wind, roaring in her ears. It drowned out all other noise, leaving her disoriented and bewildered.

And then, without warning, darkness descended upon her. The sudden transition from blinding light to complete blackness left her in a state of uncertainty and fear. Amelia was thrust into an unknown realm, their surroundings completely obscured.

As Amelia slowly regained consciousness, she felt a grogginess wash over her, accompanied by an excruciating headache that seemed to reverberate through her mind. The remnants of a dream lingered in her thoughts, a vivid vision of her lifting the Women's Champions League Cup with Everton. It was an ambitious dream, but one that had filled her with a sense of exhilaration and pride.

Her eyelids fluttered open, and she was greeted by the brightness of the morning sun, its rays casting a warm glow upon her face. The air was filled with the melodic sounds of birds chirping in the distance, and she could hear the gentle rustling of leaves on nearby branches. Something soft brushed against her skin, causing her to shift her gaze.

Confusion and a sense of disorientation washed over her as she took in her surroundings. The vast expanse of the ocean-blue sky stretched out before her, with the sun peeking out from behind a few scattered clouds. It was a peaceful and serene scene, contrasting with the uncertainty that Amelia felt within.

Did I take a nap? Or did I get knocked out with a ball to my face?

Amelia slowly sat up, her head pounding with a persistent ache. She let out a groan of discomfort, feeling the throbbing sensation intensify as she moved. Pressing her hand against her forehead, she applied firm pressure, hoping to alleviate some of the pain that pulsed through her head.

I definitely got hit in the head with a ball.

As Amelia stood up, her eyes widened in astonishment. The field she found herself in was unfamiliar, unlike any open field she had ever seen before. The grass beneath her feet was a vibrant shade of green, and in the distance, a row of trees stood tall, providing a picturesque backdrop. But what caught her attention the most were the flowers scattered around her. It seemed impossible – flowers in the midst of winter?

Bewildered, Amelia spun around, taking in the surreal scene. The contrast between her recent training session in the cold, bleak weather and the current warm and inviting atmosphere was jarring. The air held a cozy embrace, basking in the gentle warmth of the sun's rays. It was a stark departure from the grim weather she had experienced in England.

Amelia couldn't help but feel a sense of wonder and intrigue. How did she end up in this enchanting place? Was it a dream, a figment of her imagination? She couldn't shake off the feeling of disbelief, yet the beauty surrounding her was undeniable.

With a mixture of curiosity and caution, Amelia took a tentative step forward, ready to explore the mysteries that awaited her in this unexpected haven. The air was filled with a sense of possibility, and she couldn't resist the urge to uncover the secrets that lay hidden within this magical landscape.

“Where on earth am I?” As Amelia muttered her bewildered question, her eyes scanned the surroundings with a scrutinising gaze. She couldn't help but wonder if this was some elaborate joke or prank orchestrated by her mischievous brother, Jason. However, the more she observed her surroundings, the more convinced she became that this was far from a mere prank.

Feeling a bit lightheaded and disoriented, Amelia rose from her seated position, swaying slightly as she tried to regain her balance. Placing a palm against her head, she hoped to alleviate the dizziness that enveloped her. But as her hand made contact with her head, she was met with a startling realisation – her touch was met not with human skin, but with soft fur.

Her eyes widened in shock and disbelief as she examined her hand, now covered in a coat of sky-blue fur. The fur extended up her arm, enveloping her shoulder and gradually spreading across her entire body. The abnormal phenomenon sent shivers down her spine, leaving her both fascinated and unnerved.

“What the…” Amelia's desperation grew as she attempted to remove the fur from her arm, hoping to reveal her familiar human skin underneath. However, her efforts proved futile as the fur seemed to be firmly attached to her, as if it had become an inseparable part of her being. A sense of unease settled within her, intensifying with each passing moment she remained covered in the prickly fur.

But her distress was soon eclipsed by a strange sensation at her back, as if something foreign was in motion. Confusion etched across her face, she turned her head and cast her gaze over her shoulder, only for her eyes to widen in disbelief and astonishment. What she saw defied all logic and reason.

Sprouting from her back were a pair of magnificent sky blue wings, delicately flapping in the air. The sight was both awe-inspiring and surreal, causing her heart to race and her mind to whirl with a whirlwind of emotions.

Wings… I HAVE WINGS!?!?!?

“WHAT THE HELL IS GOIN’ ON!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!”

Chapter 2 - Through the Muck and Rain.

Chapter – 2.

As Amelia examined her transformed body, her anxiety continued to mount. The discovery of a blue tail with a white stripe running through the middle, along with her oddly smooth and pointy ears, only added to the bewildering changes she had undergone. The unfamiliarity of her physical form left her feeling even more vulnerable and isolated in this unknown open space.

With a sense of urgency and a need for direction, Amelia made the decision to pick a random direction and start walking. The unease of being alone in an unfamiliar place gnawed at her, heightening her sense of vulnerability. The absence of familiar faces and the uncertainty of her surroundings only intensified her anxiety.

Questions flooded her mind, each one demanding answers that seemed elusive at the moment. Why was she alone? Where was she? And perhaps the most pressing question of all, where had Jason gone? She struggled to recall the events that had led to her current predicament. The memories of playing football with her brother in the harsh weather came to the forefront of her mind. The worsening conditions, the unbearable cold and wind, and then everything went white. It was as if a sudden burst of bright light had enveloped her, erasing her surroundings and leaving her disoriented.

Amelia couldn't help but wonder if she had been struck by lightning, if that blinding white light had been the result of a powerful electrical discharge. But the uncertainty of what had happened to her brother, Jason, weighed heavily on her mind. Did he experience the same transformation? Was he safe?

As Amelia examined her transformed body, she couldn't help but notice that she was still dressed in the same muddy clothing she had worn during her training session. Her attire consisted of Everton's latest jersey, a vibrant blue garment adorned with the team's crest, paired with white Everton shorts and football socks that reached up to her knees. Her black boots, tightly laced, carried her along the grassy terrain as she ventured forward.

Hanging from her shoulder was a bag filled with her belongings, the presence of her wings making it challenging to sling the bag comfortably. Despite the inconvenience, Amelia carried it with determination, knowing that her essentials were within reach.

But it was the necklace around her neck that held a special significance. A miniature version of the blue Everton crest, it was a cherished gift from her father. The necklace proudly adorned her neck, serving as a reminder of her love for the sport and the support of her family.

As Amelia continued to walk, her worry and anxiety deepened. She desperately searched for any sign of a landmark or a clear direction to follow, but her surroundings offered no such guidance. With each passing minute, her frustration grew, and the uncertainty of her situation weighed heavily on her mind.

Her stomach let out a grumble, reminding her of her physical needs. She held her belly slightly, acknowledging the hunger that gnawed at her. The realisation that she was alone in an unfamiliar world, with no clear path or destination, only added to her discomfort.

Looking up at the dusky sky, Amelia felt a sense of unease settle over her. The once vibrant orange hue of the setting sun now cast an eerie glow, as if foreshadowing the encroaching darkness. As the sun began its descent, the surrounding landscape grew dimmer, and the shadows lengthened.

A feeling of vulnerability washed over Amelia as the darkness slowly enveloped her surroundings. The absence of light made her feel exposed and uncertain. Her instincts told her that she needed to find shelter and safety before the darkness fully descended.

With a renewed sense of urgency, Amelia quickened her pace, her eyes scanning the horizon for any signs of refuge. She knew that she had to find a secure place to rest and gather her thoughts. The challenges that lay ahead were daunting, but she remained determined to persevere, even in the face of the encroaching darkness.

As the chill in the air began to bite, Amelia reached into her backpack and pulled out her yellow Nike hoodie, quickly slipping it on to ward off the cold. The comforting warmth provided her with some respite, but her focus remained on finding a safe haven.

Suddenly, in the distance, she spotted a narrow riverside pathway. A glimmer of hope sparked in Amelia's eyes as she realised that this could potentially lead her to some form of shelter or civilisation. Without hesitation, she ran towards the pathway, her footsteps quick and determined.

As she approached the trail, Amelia carefully inspected it, her eyes scanning the surroundings for any signs of guidance or direction. The conflicting thoughts raced through her mind as she weighed the options before her. Left or right? The decision held a weight of importance, as darkness loomed closer with each passing moment.

In the midst of her internal struggle, Amelia made a choice. She decided to walk downstream, opting to take the path to the right. It was a decision made with a mixture of intuition and the hope for the best outcome. With a deep breath, she steeled herself for the journey ahead, her gaze filled with apprehension.

Amelia continued to walk along the riverside, her steps guided by a sense of determination and the belief that she had made the right choice. The path may be uncertain, but she was committed to pushing forward, hoping that it would lead her to safety and answers.

As the shadows stretched longer and the sky darkened into a pitiless, unforgiving black, Amelia felt her heart sink deeper with each crunch of gravel beneath her boots on the seemingly interminable path. Desperation clawed at her insides, a fierce and persistent beast, as the barren landscape stretched on endlessly before her, offering neither shelter nor a flicker of life—only the relentless, winding trail beneath her increasingly weary feet. Hunger gnawed at her stomach, a relentless, gnashing reminder of the many hours since her last meal. Fatigue hung heavily upon her limbs, a leaden cloak that made each step more cumbersome than the last. Her muscles, still tender and bruised from the day's rigorous training, protested each movement with aching lethargy.

Her thoughts began to unravel, meandering dangerously as her concentration waned—a perilous lapse when the path demanded vigilant attention. Familiar yet treacherously deceptive under the cloak of night, the trail skirted perilously close to the river, a silent, unyielding predator lurking just at the edge of her peripheral vision. Lost in her exhausted reverie, Amelia remained oblivious to how precariously close she ventured to the abyss. Suddenly, the treacherous ground shifted beneath her, a deceptive slope concealed by the darkness. Her ankle twisted savagely, an acute lance of pain shooting through her as she lost her footing.

With a startled gasp, Amelia's balance crumbled completely, plunging her down the steep embankment. She collided with the river with a resounding slap, the cold water enveloping her in an icy grasp, abruptly stealing the breath from her lungs. The river, deceptively shallow but shockingly cold, buffeted her, disorienting her as she fought to regain her bearings in the sudden, icy immersion.

Amelia surged upright from the river's numbing clasp, her teeth chattering uncontrollably in the chilling silence of the night. Cold water cascaded from her drenched hair, matting it to her forehead and dripping from her eyelashes, casting a shimmering veil over her vision. Every fibre of her being was saturated; her clothes clung tightly to her shivering form, her boots squelched mournfully with each tentative step, and her duffle bag weighed her down like a stone with the cold, captured river water. She exhaled a cloud of mist into the crisp night air, her voice quivering as much as her chilled body. "Great, just great!" she exclaimed, her tone a mix of annoyance and stark resignation. With trembling legs, she trudged back to the path from which she had so clumsily descended, the slick stones of the riverbank glinting ominously beneath her uncertain steps.

Amelia struggled up the steep, slippery slope, her limbs aching with each arduous movement. Mud caked her hands and knees as she dragged herself upward, the cold burrowing into her skin, relentless and unforgiving. Reaching a marginally flatter stretch, she collapsed to the side, her body curling instinctively into a tight ball to conserve warmth. The cold seemed to freeze her to the core, solidifying her muscles and chilling her bones.

The sharp wind of the night cut through her soaked clothing, offering no reprieve from the icy air that wrapped around her like a suffocating blanket. Amelia cursed her own clumsiness which had led to this predicament. Now, she found herself not only exhausted and mud-smeared but also famished, hurting from the bruises patterning her body, bitterly cold, and thoroughly wet. "Just my damned luck.” she muttered through chattering teeth, her voice laced with a mix of anger and resignation. Mustering a ragged breath, she steeled herself against the despair, preparing to push forward.

Amelia rose unsteadily to her feet, her arms clasping tightly around her shivering form. She rubbed her arms vigorously, each stroke a desperate attempt to generate warmth against the biting cold. Her breath formed tiny puffs of mist as she exhaled into the frigid air, her gaze scanning the murky depths of the dark, foreboding forest that stretched ominously before her.

She hesitated, a glimmer of hope flickering in her eyes as she searched the shadowy path for any sign of a nearby shelter or the possibility of human presence. Taking a tentative step forward, she immediately regretted it. A sharp, jarring pain shot up from her left ankle, forcing a guttural growl from her lips as she winced. The pain radiated intensely, confirming her fear—a twisted ankle, just another addition to her already substantial litany of misfortunes.

"Great, now a twisted ankle. What else?" she murmured sarcastically to herself, her voice tinged with frustration and a hint of despair. Amelia shook her head in a mix of defiance and resignation, refusing to let this newest setback defeat her spirit. Squaring her shoulders against the cold, she looked determinedly back down the path. With a grimace, she took another limping step forward, each movement a testament to her resolve not to give in to the overwhelming misery that clawed at her resolve.

After what felt like an endless succession of gruelling, painful limps, Amelia finally spotted a promising sign of passage through the wilderness—a cobblestone bridge arching gracefully over the river. The surrounding forest, which had cloaked her path in oppressive shadows, opened unexpectedly, allowing the full glory of the moon to illuminate the bridge. The moonlight bathed the ancient stones in a silvery glow, casting long, ethereal shadows and turning the bridge into a scene from a fairy tale.

The trees that had been her relentless canopy now stood back as silent sentinels, their branches parting to let the celestial light spill onto the path ahead. It seemed as though the universe itself had momentarily paused to shine a beacon on her path, guiding her weary steps toward this semblance of civilisation. The sight of the bridge, with its sturdy, time-worn cobblestones and the gentle murmur of the river below, felt like a divine gift—a beacon of hope in her arduous journey, promising respite and possibly a path to safety.

As Amelia hobbled nearer, the bridge revealed itself as a gateway to a place of gentle enchantment. Its cobblestones, kissed by the ethereal moonlight, shone softly, forming a path that seemed to be laid out with thoughtful care. Each stone, rounded and smooth from years of use, guided her toward a sanctuary nestled in the heart of nature.

Beyond the bridge, the cottage stood as a quaint and inviting abode, perfectly integrated into its natural surroundings. The roof was a lush, verdant green, overgrown with a thick blanket of moss and scattered with wildflowers that rustled softly in the gentle night breeze. The cozy structure, built from timeworn wood that held the warmth of a golden hue, seemed to exude a welcoming air, as if eager to embrace a weary traveler.

The walls of the cottage were adorned with climbing plants, their vines creeping up in an intricate dance, festooned with small, delicate blooms that added bursts of colour against the rustic backdrop. The windows, round and cheerful, peered out like the eyes of an old friend, their panes reflecting the moonlight with a soft, inviting glow.

Crossing the bridge, Amelia stepped into a garden that was a riot of life, where wildflowers and herbs grew in cheerful disarray. The garden was tenderly cultivated, with patches of vegetables and fragrant herbs that filled the air with a mix of floral and earthy aromas. The path to the front door was a mosaic of colourful stones, each step releasing the scent of thyme and lavender, crushed gently underfoot.

With each step, despite the pain in her ankle, Amelia felt a wave of hope rising. The cottage, with its aura of tranquility and the promise of comfort, seemed to call to her. As she approached the inviting doorway, her heart lifted, sensing that this charming haven might offer her not just a night's refuge but also a soothing balm for her spirit.

Amelia rapped on the door three times, her knuckles echoing against the wood, hopeful for a response. Inside, she could hear the faint sound of pitter-pattering, as if small, hurried steps scurried across the floor, and the subtle creak of furniture shifting. But then, all fell silent. “Hello?” she called out, her voice threading through the cracks of the doorway, eager for a reply.

Silence hung in the air, thick and unyielding, causing Amelia's flicker of hope to waver. She knocked again, her urgency mounting. “Hello? Is anyone there? Please open up! I’m lost and cold, and I don’t know where to go. I-I need a place to stay for the night, just for tonight, please?” Her words tumbled out, each one laced with desperation. Yet, the silence persisted, each second stretching out, making her shiver uncontrollably, not just from the cold but from the growing unease.

She stood there, shifting weight from her uninjured foot to her sore ankle, trying to stay warm. Maybe, she thought, the owner of the cottage was just slow to wake, perhaps disoriented by the late hour. Amelia allowed herself to imagine a friendly face eventually opening the door, greeting her with kindness and warmth. In her mind’s eye, she saw herself drying off with a fluffy towel, sitting snugly wrapped in a blanket on a cozy couch. She pictured a steaming cup of tea in her hands, the soothing aroma mingling with the rustic charm of the cottage as she settled in to watch something comforting on Netflix, the troubles of the night melting away under the warmth of hospitality. She clung to this hopeful scenario, waiting patiently at the door for her imagined haven to become reality.

Amelia waited, each second dragging interminably, marked only by the rhythmic throbbing of pain in her ankle and the relentless shiver that coursed through her body. The silence that enveloped the cottage was oppressive, a tangible weight against the faint rustling of the leaves and the distant calls of nocturnal creatures. After enduring what felt like an agonising stretch of time, her patience, already frayed by discomfort and anxiety, finally snapped.

Driven by a mix of desperation and the piercing cold that seemed to seep into her very bones, Amelia pounded on the door with renewed vigour. "Open the door! Please!" Her voice was sharp, a clear note of anger laced with desperation echoing into the silent night. Yet, the response was just more silence, the door standing firm and unresponsive before her.

Overwhelmed and unable to bear the pain any longer, Amelia leaned her shoulder against the unyielding wood of the door and slowly slid down. The harsh, cold surface of the door pressed uncomfortably against her back as she descended to the frost-kissed ground, her movements stiff and awkward. Once seated, she extended her injured ankle, letting it rest haphazardly to one side on the cold, damp stones of the cottage's threshold.

Here, on the ground, the cold was more pervasive, the earth leeching the warmth from her soaked clothing. Amelia wrapped her arms around herself, her hands tucking under each arm in a vain attempt to stave off the chill. Her breath formed small clouds of vapour that mingled with the crisp night air, each exhalation a visible testament to her plight. With her back against the door and her gaze fixed on the vague outlines of the garden bathed in moonlight, Amelia waited, the silence around her only broken by the occasional gust of wind that whispered through the trees, carrying with it the promise of a long, cold night.

Mentally exhausted, physically depleted, and spiritually defeated, Amelia's last tendrils of hope disintegrated after a gruelling half-hour of braving the relentless cold and the harsh, biting winds. To worsen her plight, the skies, as if in league against her, opened up, unleashing a downpour that seemed intent on testing her limits. The rain, driven by a newfound ferocity, lashed at the landscape with a vehemence that felt personal, as though it sought to erode not just the ground but Amelia's resolve as well.

Fortunately, a small mercy was afforded by the overhang of the cottage's roof, which jutted out just enough to form a narrow shield against the deluge. Amelia, seeking any reprieve from the relentless assault, scooted closer to the door, her back pressed firmly against it. She drew her legs in tight to her body, her knees pulled up to her chest in an attempt to fit entirely within the scant shelter provided.

Each drop that managed to breach her shelter seemed to sizzle against her skin, a cold so deep it bordered on pain. With her head bowed against her knees, she let the sound of the rain, now drumming a relentless rhythm on the roof above, fill her senses, resigning herself to the possibility that this doorstep might be her sanctuary for the night.

After enduring another merciless half-hour by the unyielding door, the situation only worsened for Amelia. The wind, now a relentless force, conspired with the rain, driving it diagonally to invade her scant shelter. The elements seemed determined to break her spirit, the cold droplets occasionally splashing against her skin, chilling her to the core.

Amelia sat with her hood pulled tightly over her head, her face buried in the sheltered space between her knees. Each shiver that racked her body felt like a testament to her vulnerability in the face of nature’s indifference.

Realisation dawned bleakly on her — waiting any longer was futile. It was clear that if someone did indeed dwell within the cottage, they had no intention of offering refuge to a stranded soul. Yet, despite knowing she needed to move on to seek shelter elsewhere, Amelia found herself immobilised by a profound exhaustion. The day’s trials had sapped her strength, her hunger gnawed relentlessly at her stamina, and the throbbing pain from her ankle anchored her to the spot.

The very thought of lifting herself and stepping back into the rain and wind was daunting. She remained huddled by the door, caught between the necessity of finding a safer place to rest and the overwhelming inertia brought on by her fatigue, injury, and the unrelenting assault of the weather.

After ten gruelling minutes against the cold, unforgiving door, a subtle shift overcame Amelia. Using the sturdy door as a prop, she gingerly pushed herself upright, carefully balancing her weight on her good foot while adjusting the strap of her heavy, waterlogged duffle bag on her shoulder. Her face, once a canvas of emotions, now displayed nothing—utterly void of determination, anger, sadness, or misery. Her eyes, usually vibrant and expressive, appeared vacant, reflecting a deep emptiness within.

As the rain continued to beat down relentlessly, accompanied by the howling wind, Amelia attempted a step forward. The cobblestones, slick and unforgiving beneath her feet, offered no mercy as she lost her balance and collapsed with a harsh thud, her head striking the cold, hard stone. The impact resounded with a sickening sound, yet she made no noise, no cry of pain escaped her lips. Wordlessly, she gathered her strength to rise again, feeling a warm trickle—the unmistakable sensation of blood—sliding down the left side of her face, weaving past her eye, indifferent to the pain.

Amelia's next step was cautious, calculated, her movements slow but purposeful. She was no longer propelled by sheer willpower but by an instinctual, primal fear. In those ten minutes of silent reflection, the chilling realisation had dawned on her that death lingered as a tangible threat in the cold night air. The biting cold had numbed her hands to an almost painful degree, and her feet ached as if swarmed by biting ants. This was not merely discomfort but a dire warning from her body that if she remained, the frigid night might claim her. Each careful, limping step was a quiet testament to her desperate bid for survival in the face of an indifferent wilderness.

Amelia hobbled across the bridge, the ancient stones slick and uneven under her weary feet, continuing her arduous journey down the seemingly endless path. More than once, her knees buckled beneath her, the pain shooting through her body with such ferocity that it brought her to the ground. Yet, each time she fell, fear—a raw, visceral fear of the night and its cold embrace—propelled her back to her feet.

As she trudged forward, silent tears streamed down her cheeks, mingling indistinguishably with the cold rain that lashed relentlessly at her face. With each shuddering breath, a soft sob escaped her lips, a sound almost lost to the howling wind. In her heart, a deep yearning surged—to be home, to see the familiar, loving faces of her family. She imagined her big brother standing at the end of this torturous path, his smile a beacon of hope; her mom and dad just behind him, their arms open wide, ready to engulf her in the warmest, most comforting embrace.

But this vision, vivid and heartbreakingly tangible, was just a fantasy—a fragile thread of hope in the harsh reality she faced. Since awakening alone in the field, everything had changed, and such wishes seemed as distant as the stars veiled by the stormy night sky. With each painful step, Amelia clung to these fleeting images of happiness, using them as a shield against the despair that threatened to overwhelm her. The path stretched on, a relentless test of her resolve, each limping step a testament to her determination to overcome the shadows that chased her.

So she limped, fell, got back up and hobbled away down the deep, dark path, frightened and alone.

Amelia's mantra echoed softly in her mind, a steady refrain of "One more step, one more step.” as she shuffled forward. Her gaze was fixed unwaveringly on the path just ahead, her eyes tracing the rough, uneven trail that wound through the dimly lit forest. Each step was a laborious effort, her body feeling heavier with every movement.

The last time Amelia had lifted her eyes from the path seemed like an eternity ago. Was it five, perhaps ten minutes? Time had stretched and distorted, each minute feeling progressively longer and more taxing. The surrounding woods blurred into a shadowy backdrop, the details lost to her singular focus on placing one foot in front of the other. The rhythmic sound of her dragging foot mingled with the rustling leaves and the occasional distant call of a night creature, all contributing to the surreal, dreamlike quality of her lonely trek.

Amelia's acute senses suddenly sharpened, her ears twitching beneath the shelter of her hood, catching the distant murmur of voices mingling with laughter. The unexpected sound pierced the oppressive silence of the night, pulling her attention forward. Lifting her head, her face a grim tapestry of weariness and dried blood marring her sky-blue fur, a spark of life ignited in her eyes.

Through the darkness, the soft glow of light spilled from the windows of a building directly ahead. The windows, rectangular and inviting, framed silhouettes of people, their movements casting lively shadows against the light-drenched panes. Amelia's gaze widened as she realised that this building was not alone; it was part of a cluster of structures, though only the one before her buzzed with visible life and light.

Relief surged through Amelia’s exhausted body, invigorated by the promise of human presence. The warmth seemed to radiate from the building, beckoning her closer. Thoughts of a welcoming fire, a hearty meal, a refreshing drink, and perhaps most crucially, assistance, filled her mind with renewed hope.

As Amelia approached the warmly lit building, her duffle bag slid from her shoulder, momentarily startling her but also relieving her of its cumbersome weight. Her shoulders sagged in relief, allowing her to take a slightly more vigorous step forward. Each successive stride grew faster, more desperate, as hope swelled within her.

Fuelled by the rising cacophony of voices and laughter that now seemed tantalisingly close, Amelia dared to put more weight on her injured ankle. With each limping step, she drew on reserves of energy she hadn't known she possessed, her movements becoming increasingly assertive. The familiar pain shot through her ankle, but the sound of potential safety and company spurred her on, pushing her beyond her usual cautious gait.

Amelia's next step was her boldest yet; she actually used her injured ankle to propel herself forward rather than merely dragging it along. She was almost at the door, the light and sounds of life just within reach, promising warmth and rest. However, this burst of progress proved too much for her strained body. The combination of her eagerness to reach safety, the awkward angle of her injured foot, and the sheer exhaustion that clouded her judgment resulted in a falter. Her body leaned too far forward, her twisted ankle unable to support the sudden shift in weight and speed, culminating in a stumble that halted her desperate rush.

Amelia's body hit the mud-soaked ground with a heavy thud, the side of her hood catching the brunt of the mud, sparing her face from an additional layer of grime. Exhausted and unable to muster the strength to rise, she lay there, the cold, wet earth seeping through her clothes. Every moment of her arduous journey—the relentless elements, the prolonged exertion, and her mounting injuries—converged in a crushing wave of fatigue.

Her vision began to blur, clarity giving way to the encroaching fog of exhaustion. The allure of sleep whispered seductively in her mind, promising escape from the relentless discomfort and pain. She was so very tired, and the idea of closing her eyes, even just for a moment, was overwhelmingly tempting. Sleep, that gentle, forgiving oblivion, seemed like the perfect respite.

Yet, just as she was on the verge of succumbing to her weariness, a movement caught her eye. In the shadowed space between two buildings, a silhouette appeared. It was a figure, unclear and indistinct, pausing and looking back at her. This unexpected presence halted her drift toward sleep, sparking a flicker of alertness in her foggy consciousness. Who was it? A potential rescuer, or something else? The uncertainty of the figure’s intentions held her in a liminal space between wakefulness and the deep, dark pull of sleep.

As Amelia lay motionless, teetering on the edge of consciousness, the door she had been so desperately trying to reach suddenly swung open. The abrupt movement cut through the night, the light from inside spilling out and briefly illuminating the muddy path. The sound of the door slamming shut quickly muffled the lively chatter from within, replacing it with a sudden, profound silence.

Then, from the threshold, a soft, almost heavenly voice broke through the quiet, laden with concern. "Oh my goodness! Are you okay?" The words floated down to Amelia, a soothing balm amidst her turmoil. The voice was gentle and caring, its tone imbued with genuine worry, reaching out to her in her moment of dire need. This unexpected kindness rekindled a spark of hope within her.

Blackness enveloped Amelia as her consciousness wavered, the edges of her vision fading into an inky void. The ground beneath her seemed to dissolve, and the sounds around her—the concerned voice, the distant laughter, the rain—merged into a distant, indistinct hum. Her body felt weightless, detached from the cold, wet earth that had been its harsh reality moments before. As the darkness deepened, it pulled her further from the tangible world, into a place of quiet and profound stillness.

Sleep… at last…

Amelia's eyes fluttered open, each blink slowly clearing the lingering fog of sleep from her vision. Above her was a ceiling she didn't recognise; it wasn't the familiar comfort of her own room but rather the sterile, white expanse typical of a hospital. She knew this all too well, an unfortunate familiarity bred from numerous past injuries. As her surroundings came into focus, Amelia noticed the stark, functional details of the room: the ceiling dotted with recessed lighting that cast a gentle, non-invasive glow, and a single large window that was currently shuttered with pale blue blinds.

Propping herself up on her elbows, she surveyed the rest of her surroundings. The room was distinctly private, meant for just one patient, with its soothing beige walls adorned with minimal artwork—a generic landscape painting that seemed chosen for its calming hues rather than its subject. Beside her bed, a small, movable table held a pitcher of water and a clear plastic cup, and across the room, a flat-screen TV was mounted high on the wall, currently turned off. The room’s single armchair, upholstered in a nondescript grey fabric, sat empty, angled slightly towards her as if waiting for a visitor.

Everything, from the crisp, white linens on her bed to the gleaming, sanitised surface of the nightstand, spoke of meticulous care and cleanliness, yet lacked the warmth of personal touch. It was a place designed not just to heal the body but also to isolate it from the chaotic outside world, providing a quiet refuge where recovery was paramount.

As Amelia lay back against the stark white pillows, she tried to piece together the fragmented memories of the previous night. Her mind flickered through the vivid recall of rain-soaked cobblestones, the chilling wind, and the comforting sound of distant laughter that had seemed like a lifeline. She remembered the desperate push towards the warm glow of safety, the silhouette in the alley, and then the sudden collapse into darkness.

While she was lost in her thoughts, a subtle shift in her position caused her to notice something unfamiliar about her attire. Glancing down, she realised that she was dressed in a hospital gown, the standard pale blue fabric feeling thin and slightly coarse against her skin. The realisation that she had been stripped of her own clothes made her feel exposed and vulnerable, a stark reminder of the seriousness of her situation.

A sudden movement sent a sharp pain shooting through her left ankle, jolting her back to the harsh reality of her injuries. The pain was sharp, a clear reminder of the misstep that had likely brought her here. Amelia winced, the intensity of the discomfort grounding her thoughts firmly back to her current predicament in the hospital room. As she carefully adjusted her position to alleviate the pain, she acknowledged the long road of recovery that lay ahead and the events that had led her to this quiet, solitary room.

Amelia cautiously reached down, her fingers tentatively pulling back the lightweight hospital blanket that had been draped over her. As the fabric folded away, revealing her lower body, she caught sight of her left ankle, now meticulously wrapped in a crisp, white bandage. The expertly applied dressing was snug and precise, covering her ankle and extending slightly up her calf, hinting at the care taken during its application.

Despite the professional wrapping, a wave of apprehension washed over her as she studied the bandage, she could also feel a tight pressure around her head where she cut her forehead, feeling the rough material of dressing too. The stark white of the gauze contrasted sharply with her fur, drawing her full attention to the severity of her injury. Amelia cringed slightly, a mix of discomfort and worry knitting her brow. She hoped fervently that the damage was not as serious as the bandage made it appear, even as she braced herself for whatever prognosis might come. Her eyes lingered on the bandaged ankle, the visible reminder of last night’s ordeal intertwining with her growing concern for what this injury might mean for her future mobility and recovery.

Startled by the gentle creak of the opening door, Amelia's eyes snapped toward the sound, her heart momentarily catching in her throat. Her gaze widened in disbelief as she absorbed the sight before her.

There, framed by the doorway, stood a figure that seemed to blend the familiar with the fantastical. The visitor was distinctly anthropomorphic, with soft, yellow fur and a mane of pale pink hair that fell in gentle waves around her shoulders. Her large, expressive eyes, a striking shade of turquoise, radiated kindness and concern as they met Amelia's own.

The figure was dressed in a simple, yet elegant, outfit that complemented her gentle demeanour—a soft, pastel green tunic that draped gracefully over her form, paired with cream-coloured leggings that allowed her to move with an almost ethereal grace. Over one shoulder, she carried a duffle bag, remarkably similar to Amelia’s own, which added a touch of familiarity to the surreal encounter.

Amelia's heart pounded ferociously as she tried to reconcile the astonishing sight before her. Questions raced through her mind, each more bewildering than the last. Where did this creature come from? Why does it have my bag? Her thoughts spiraled, mingling with a rising tide of panic and curiosity.

As the creature took a step closer, its movements gentle yet deliberate, Amelia instinctively tried to shuffle backward. Her sudden movement jarred her injured ankle, sending a sharp spike of pain shooting through her leg. She winced, a stifled gasp escaping her lips.

Reacting to Amelia's evident distress, the creature hastened her approach. In a swift, fluid motion, her wings—previously folded at her back and nearly imperceptible beneath her tunic—shot open. The wings were expansive and vibrant, coloured in soft shades of yellow, mirroring the tranquil pastels of her clothing. They fluttered slightly, a reflexive gesture that seemed to underscore her urgency and concern.

As she reached Amelia's bedside, the creature's eyes filled with empathy. She lowered her wings slowly, creating an aura of calmness as she knelt beside the bed. Her presence was soothing, her proximity offering reassurance rather than fear, as if she was an unexpected guardian in this sterile, unfamiliar place. With a gentle voice, she spoke, addressing Amelia's unspoken fears and offering comfort with a tenderness that belied her mysterious, otherworldly appearance.

The creature's voice was soft and melodic, each word flowing with an innate gentleness that instantly soothed Amelia's frayed nerves. "It's okay, hun. You're in a safe place, there’s no need to worry now.” she reassured, her tone imbued with a maternal warmth and a serene confidence that seemed to fill the room. The familiarity of her voice resonated deeply with Amelia, confirming her suspicion that this was indeed the same voice that had pierced the cold silence of the previous night.

Her intonation carried not just the timbre of kindness but also an echo of the comfort it had provided when Amelia had been most vulnerable. The creature's eyes, large and expressive, held a glimmer of recognition and concern as they met Amelia's, reinforcing the connection between them. This was no ordinary encounter; it was a continuation of a moment of rescue, now evolving into one of healing.

As the creature spoke, her presence seemed to wrap around Amelia like a warm blanket, the hospital room's stark, clinical edges softened by her calming aura. The slight accent in her voice, tender and lyrical, suggested a deep, inherent wisdom, as if she was not only familiar with human ailments but also skilled in comforting the troubled soul.

Amelia's voice was tinged with a mixture of curiosity and gratitude as she spoke. "It was you, wasn’t it? You found me last night?" Her eyes searched the creature's face for confirmation, seeking the link between this serene presence and the guardian angel who had appeared in her darkest hour.

The creature nodded gently, her expression softening with empathy. "Yes, it was me.” she confirmed, her voice a whisper of reassurance. "I found you when you needed help. I'm so glad you're safe now." Her words carried the weight of genuine concern and relief, bridging the gap between the mysterious encounter on the cold, shadowy path and this moment of quiet safety in the hospital room.

Amelia nodded slightly, her movements tentative as she drew her uninjured leg to her chest, instinctively curling into herself. Her eyes, wide and reflective, darted downward, a silent struggle playing out within her as she grappled with the enormity of her situation. This was far from the norm for Amelia; the bewildering transformation she had undergone left her feeling vulnerable and utterly adrift in a reality that seemed to defy explanation.

As she cast a furtive glance at the creature before her, a startling realization dawned upon her. Amelia wasn't just looking at a fantastical being; she was mirroring one. Wings—feathery and delicate—unfolded from her own back, a physical manifestation of the change that had overtaken her body. The surreal acknowledgment of her new, shared identity with the creature intensified her feelings of disorientation and fear.

The room, though safe and warm, seemed to close in on her as the weight of her new reality settled heavily on her shoulders. All the change, the profound sense of alienation, and the gnawing loneliness compounded, triggering a visceral reaction. Amelia's breath hitched, a sob escaping her lips as tears welled up in her eyes. Overwhelmed and lost, she allowed herself a moment of vulnerability, her tears flowing freely in the quiet hospital room.

The yellow creature, exuding a gentle aura, quickly moved to comfort Amelia, her voice a soothing balm as she reassured her. "Oh no, don’t cry, dear, it’s okay, everything is okay." She took Amelia's hand in her own, her touch soft and warm, providing a tangible sense of security and kindness.

Amelia, feeling the supportive grip of the creature, squeezed her hand back, the physical connection amplifying the emotional support she so desperately needed. Overwhelmed by the surreal turn her life had taken, she released a deep, shuddering sob that seemed to carry all her confusion and fear. "I don’t know where I am, I don’t know where to go, I don’t know what to do.” she confessed through her tears, her voice cracking under the strain of her emotions.

"Dear... I-I have no idea what you went through last night, but would it help if we talked about it?" the creature's voice broke through Amelia's sobs, carrying a tender, questioning note that paused Amelia's tears momentarily as she weighed her response. Inside, a storm of thoughts raged. Amelia knew she could reveal her true origin—that she was not of this place or, upon further contemplation, even of this world. Yet, fear clutched at her heart at the thought of their reaction if they discovered she was not like them—that she was, in fact, human. With this in mind, Amelia chose to feign a gentle ignorance.

"I-I don't know, that's the problem, I don't remember anything that happened. My head—it hurts trying to think about it.” Amelia murmured, her hand instinctively cradling her head as if to soothe the mental strain.

"Okay, alright, just try to relax. Let your mind rest, okay?" the creature responded, her smile tender and reassuring, which helped Amelia ease her guard under the creature's serene gaze. "My name is Fluttershy, what's yours, hun?" she asked gently, settling herself beside Amelia on the bed.

The transformation in Fluttershy's voice was striking. The concern that had tinged her earlier words now gave way to a calm and soothing timber, pure and comforting, enveloping Amelia in a sound that felt like auditory velvet. It carried no particular accent but resonated beautifully, easing Amelia's turbulent thoughts.

Amelia hesitated, her mind still trying to process the surreal experiences she'd endured. Yet, something about Fluttershy's demeanour, her softness and genuine warmth, nudged Amelia toward trust. "M-my name’s Amelia. Thank you for saving me, Fluttershy.” she replied, her own voice laced with a distinctive accent that piqued Fluttershy's curiosity, emphasising the exotic nature of her name.

"Oh… That’s a lovely name, Amel-ia?" Fluttershy repeated, attempting to capture the unique pronunciation.

"Yours too… Fluttershy.” Amelia responded, the name still foreign to her ears.

A silence settled between them, thick with unasked questions and shared uncertainty. Amelia's mind was abuzz with inquiries yet a timid reluctance held her back, intimidated by the unusual yet gentle nature of the creature beside her.

Glancing over, Amelia noticed Fluttershy also seemed caught in a similar bout of hesitation. Fluttershy fiddled with her fingers, her gaze drifting around the room as if searching for an anchor in the awkward pause. This mutual discomfort only deepened the palpable tension, marking the room with a quiet but intense anticipation of what was to come.

"Hey, Amelia… if you want, I can let you stay in my cottage for the time being. I’d hate to let a confused, young filly go, knowing they were hurt and alone. It would make me feel better if I took responsibility over you until you find your way home to your family.” Fluttershy offered, her voice filled with warmth and a maternal concern that resonated deeply in the quiet hospital room. Her eyes held a soft, inviting glow, a clear display of her earnest desire to help.

“You sure? I don’t want to be a bother honestly.” Amelia replied, her voice tinged with reluctance. She shifted slightly in the hospital bed, her eyes darting down as she fidgeted with the edge of her blanket, clearly uncomfortable with the idea of imposing on anyone.

“You won’t be any trouble, it’ll be my pleasure.” Fluttershy reassured her, her tone soothing and unequivocal. Her smile was gentle, radiating a sense of peace and hospitality that seemed to envelop the room, easing Amelia’s apprehensions.

Encouraged by Fluttershy's sincerity and moved by the genuine warmth of her offer, Amelia's face brightened into a grateful smile. With a surge of heartfelt appreciation, she reached out and pulled Fluttershy into a big, embracing hug. The contact was warm and comforting, a physical manifestation of the safe harbour Fluttershy was extending to her in this storm of confusion.

Although Amelia was uncomfortable with the idea of relying so heavily on someone she had just met, she internally committed to reciprocating Fluttershy's kindness in any way she could once she regained her strength. Their embrace was not just a thank you—it was a silent promise of friendship and mutual support, a connection forged in the midst of uncertainty. In Fluttershy’s embrace, Amelia felt a renewed sense of hope and a comforting assurance that she was no longer alone in facing the unknown.

“Thank you, thank you so much.”

Chapter 3 - The Day with Fluttershy and the Chants.

Chapter 3

The days turned into weeks, and Amelia found herself adjusting to life in Fluttershy's household. However, the stark contrast between her previous world and the serene environment of Ponyville weighed heavily on her. The absence of the bustling streets, cars, and the vibrant energy of human society left a void in Amelia's heart.

She missed her brother the most, longing for the competitive spirit and camaraderie they shared. The friendly rivalry between them had always pushed Amelia to strive for greatness, to outdo her older sibling. Here in Ponyville, there was no place for such competition, and the absence of that drive left her feeling unfulfilled.

Nevertheless, Amelia found solace in the company of Fluttershy's animal friends. She recognised them as familiar beings, reminiscent of the pets she had known in her own world. Their presence brought her a sense of comfort and familiarity, providing a small sense of normalcy amidst the unfamiliar surroundings.

Amelia's days were filled with spending time with the animals, and attempting to understand the intricacies of this new world. While she still yearned for the excitement and liveliness of her previous life, she tried to appreciate the simplicity and tranquillity that Fluttershy offered.

As time passed, Amelia's heart began to soften, finding a newfound appreciation for the beauty of nature and the gentle companionship of Fluttershy and her animal friends. Though her journey was far from over, she was slowly discovering a sense of belonging and purpose in this enchanting, yet seemingly mundane world.

Over the days that followed, the bond between Amelia and Fluttershy deepened, blossoming into a friendship built on mutual understanding and respect. Fluttershy possessed an innate patience and a gentle demeanor that Amelia found immensely comforting. She attended to Amelia’s injured ankle with the care and expertise of a seasoned physiotherapist, expertly guiding her through a regimen of recovery exercises and ensuring she never overexerted herself. The cottage became a sanctuary of healing, filled with the subtle sounds of nature and the soft, nurturing presence of Fluttershy.

Day by day, Amelia felt more at ease, gradually shedding layers of her initial reserve. Their conversations started simple—discussions about the weather, the charming quirks of the cottage, and trivial curiosities about daily life in what Amelia came to know as Ponyville. However, as trust wove itself more tightly between them, their dialogues ventured into deeper, more personal terrains. Amelia found herself asking Fluttershy about her life, her past experiences, and the intricate dynamics of the village.

Fluttershy, for her part, was sometimes evasive, her answers often wrapped in layers of gentle vagueness. Yet, Amelia understood this dance of disclosure. She too skirted around certain truths, holding back details of her own past and the world she came from. There was an unspoken agreement in their reticence, a mutual respect for the boundaries each set around personal histories not yet ready to be shared.

Amelia appreciated Fluttershy’s tact and discretion. It allowed her to feel safe in their growing friendship, knowing she wasn’t obligated to reveal more than she was prepared to. As the days turned into weeks, their conversations became a comforting ritual, with each shared story and half-answered question knitting them closer together, creating a tapestry of companionship that was both nurturing and liberating.

Amelia's ankle had healed significantly under Fluttershy's attentive care, though it still reminded her of its fragility if she ventured too far or too fast. The recovery had reached a point where the pain was no longer a constant companion, surfacing only when she overstepped her current limits. This marked improvement brought a newfound sense of freedom, allowing Amelia to explore her surroundings with increasing confidence.

She relished the ability to walk around at her leisure, feeling a liberating sense of mobility that she hadn't experienced since her arrival. The lush landscapes of Ponyville, with its vibrant flora and the tranquil backdrop of the cottage, provided a perfect setting for gentle walks that aided her rehabilitation. Each step reinforced her gratitude for Fluttershy's care and the gradual return of her independence. While she remained cautious, not wanting to provoke the lingering pain, Amelia embraced her regained ability to move freely, enjoying each moment of exploration and the simple pleasure of walking without constraint.

Amelia's love for football burned within her, even in this new world where the familiar game seemed out of reach. The absence of a ball and the inability to engage in her favourite sport left a void in her heart. The longing for that special bond between a player and a ball intensified with each passing day.

The feeling of restlessness grew within Amelia, her desire to break free from the confines of the cottage and quench her boredom becoming overwhelming. She needed an outlet for her energy and a way to satisfy her football cravings.

"Amelia!" Fluttershy's voice chimed, breaking the silence in the house. "I'm just about to head out! Um, I was wondering if you'd like to come with me to Ponyville? You know, to help me with the groceries. Of course, only if you're interested."

Amelia was taken aback by the sudden call from Fluttershy. It was rare for her to extend an invitation to Ponyville, and Amelia had always declined in the past due to her ankle. But today was different. Boredom had consumed her, leaving her yearning for a change of scenery.

With a flicker of excitement, Amelia placed her book about Timber Wolves on the side of the bed. Its pages were filled with captivating tales of these majestic creatures, but now they paled in comparison to the prospect of adventure. She leaped off the bed, her anticipation bouncing within her like a spring.

"I'll come!" Amelia's voice rang out, filled with eagerness, as she dashed down the stairs, wearing the new clothes that Fluttershy had kindly gotten for her. A smile formed on her face, thrilled at the chance to experience something different.

Fluttershy couldn't help but be taken aback by the sudden surge of energy from Amelia. She had anticipated a polite decline, which was why she had asked in the first place, so as not to appear pushy. It wasn't a bad thing, though. Amelia had always been independent, taking responsibility into her own hands. But this morning seemed to be an exception.

Amelia swiftly moved around the ground floor, preparing herself for the harsh cold and wind outside. She grabbed her white hoodie from the hanger, then layered it with a black and white flannel jacket, allowing the hood of the hoodie to hang out casually. The two garments complemented each other perfectly. She already had her black baggy jeans on, and she sat on the couch to put on her black trainers, each adorned with three white stripes running horizontally on the sides. This was Amelia's usual outfit, one that she felt comfortable and confident in.

The cheerful whistle pierced the quiet of the cottage, followed by Amelia's lively call, "C'mon, Pooch! Time to go!" Moments later, the rhythmic sound of tiny wooden paws tapping against the floor grew louder as a small Timber Wolf pup scampered into the room. With youthful exuberance, it bounded onto Amelia's lap, its wooden tail thumping enthusiastically, sending tiny reverberations through her. The pup's animated eyes and playful antics drew a burst of laughter from Amelia, filling the room with warmth and joy.

Fluttershy watched the pair with a fond smile playing on her lips, recalling the moment they had first met. It had been mere days ago, but the connection between Amelia and the Timber Wolf pup had flourished remarkably, weaving a bond of friendship and companionship that seemed to transcend their brief acquaintance. Their instant affinity for each other had quickly evolved into an inseparable partnership, each finding solace and joy in the other's presence.

As the early evening air carried a nip of chill through the slightly ajar window, Fluttershy reached for a padded coat. She slipped it on, preparing for their evening walk. “Okay, let’s go, and please take it easy on your ankle, Amelia. I thought I broke my back when I had to give you a piggyback ride last time.” she teased, her laughter light and carefree, adding a playful undertone to her reminder.

Amelia, rubbing the back of her head with a sheepish yet cheeky smile, responded, “I’ll be careful.” Her tone carried a mix of appreciation and gentle self-mockery, acknowledging her past over-exuberance. As they prepared to step outside, Amelia gently set the pup down, allowing it to prance about her feet, eager for the adventure ahead. The evening promised a gentle walk filled with laughter, the soft rustling of leaves, and the joyful company of friends and their loyal, wooden-tailed companion.

Ponyville was a sight that Amelia had never laid her eyes upon before. The village exuded a nostalgic charm, as if it had been plucked straight from the pages of history when wood was the primary material for constructing buildings. Cats and dogs roamed about, their noses eagerly sniffing the air, catching scents that piqued their curiosity. The buildings stood taller and more substantial than Amelia had initially anticipated. Each structure consisted of two stories, with the wooden beams proudly visible on the exteriors, adding to the overall vintage appeal.

Thanks to Fluttershy, Amelia had learned that the enchanting creatures walking the streets of Ponyville were called ponies. It fascinated her to see the variety among them. Some had elegant horns adorning their heads, while others sported delicate wings, just like Fluttershy and Amelia themselves. There were also ponies without any of these distinct features. What truly caught Amelia's attention, however, was the vibrant array of colours that adorned the ponies' coats. Their hues were so vivid and lively, making them stand out even more. In contrast, Amelia couldn't help but feel a tad silly for wearing her dark-coloured clothing amidst such a vibrant crowd.

Amelia's eyes scanned the vibrant streets of Ponyville, her curiosity piqued by the various signs and colorful decorations that hinted at local events. "So, after shopping, what can we do for fun around here?" she inquired, her voice laced with excitement as she imagined the possibilities this charming town could offer.

Fluttershy's eyes sparkled with enthusiasm as she responded, her tone brimming with pride for her hometown. "Oh, of course!" she exclaimed, her voice brightening considerably. "There are plenty of fun activities to do in Ponyville. We can visit the local park and have a picnic, or perhaps go for a relaxing stroll through the beautiful meadows. There's also the annual Ponyville Carnival, where we can enjoy games, rides, and delicious treats. And if you're interested in animals, we can even spend some time at my animal sanctuary, where you can meet all sorts of adorable creatures!"

Amelia’s interest was instantly captured by the mention of the carnival. "Ooo, the carnival sounds great!" she said, her eyes lighting up with the thought of the festive atmosphere, the games, and the joyous crowds.

"Then we’ll go as soon as we are finished!" Fluttershy agreed, her voice as light and airy as a gentle breeze. Her agreement sealed their plans, setting the stage for a day filled with laughter, excitement, and the warm companionship that had grown between them.

As they continued their stroll through the bustling market, Amelia could hardly contain her excitement, already imagining the whirl of colours, the sounds of laughter, and the sweet scents of carnival treats that awaited them. It promised to be a perfect day in the company of a new friend in a town that was quickly feeling like a new home.

Amelia meandered through the bustling marketplace, each stall a new world to be explored. Her senses were bombarded with the rich, earthy aroma of fresh produce and the vibrant hues of fruits and vegetables stacked in neat piles. Craftspeople displayed their wares with pride, their stalls draped with shimmering necklaces and bracelets that sparkled under the morning sun.

As she wandered, a particular stall drew her attention sharply—a display festooned with various items all bearing the same distinctive emblem. Shirts, scarves, and mugs were adorned with an image of a lime green pony, its bleach white hair styled neatly in a bun, an eye closed in a wink, and a gentle smile gracing its features. Amelia paused, her curiosity piqued. She leaned in closer, squinting slightly as she studied the emblem.

The face on the crest was whimsical yet strangely familiar, tugging at the edges of her memory. It seemed to evoke a sense of déjà vu, as if she had seen this character somewhere before—perhaps in passing or in a fleeting dream. The playful wink and serene smile seemed almost alive, as if about to spring to life and trot out of the emblem itself.

Amelia's reverie at the stall was abruptly interrupted by Fluttershy's cheerful call. "Amelia! It's time to go!" Her voice was light and airy, floating over the sounds of the marketplace. Turning towards the voice, Amelia saw Fluttershy standing a short distance away, her arms cradling a basket brimming with fresh, colourful produce. By her side, Pooch energetically barked, his little wooden tail wagging vigorously, echoing his owner's urgency and excitement.

Amelia's face lit up with a broad smile as the prospect of the carnival re-entered her thoughts. The day was shaping up to be one filled with joy and new experiences. She quickly made her way over to Fluttershy, her steps quickening with anticipation. The marketplace with its myriad distractions faded into the background as her focus shifted to the upcoming adventure.

Together, they made their way out of the bustling market, the noise and chaos giving way to the sounds of laughter and music that began to drift from the direction of the carnival. As they walked, Amelia felt a flutter of excitement in her stomach—the kind that comes from the promise of laughter, shared joy, and the kind of fun that fills you up and leaves you with lasting memories. The day ahead at the carnival promised just that, and with Fluttershy and Pooch by her side, Amelia knew it was going to be wonderful.

At the carnival, Amelia's enthusiastic foray into the festivities was as humorous as it was heartwarming. Their day began with an attempt at the classic milk bottle toss where Amelia, feeling confident, hurled the ball with such force it not only missed the bottles but sailed over the booth, startling a nearby clown who, in a comedic fluster, honked his nose in surprise and tripped over his own oversized shoes. The sight of the clown juggling to regain his balance while Amelia apologized profusely left both Fluttershy and bystanders in fits of laughter.

Later, while exploring the myriad of treats available, Amelia decided to try a massive, spiraled lollipop. As she zealously licked away, the lollipop stuck to her cheek. Fluttershy, ever the helpful friend, tried to assist, only to tug a little too hard, causing Amelia to spin around in a dizzy tangle. They both ended up laughing on a nearby bench, Amelia with a sticky cheek, and Fluttershy with colorful sugar on her hands.

At the dunk tank, Amelia, buoyed by her earlier misadventures, volunteered to sit on the dunking seat. Fluttershy, tasked with throwing balls at the target, missed hilariously every time, instead hitting signs, bells, and once even a passing juggler who, unharmed but bewildered, added to the absurdity of the situation. Amelia heckled playfully from her precarious perch, offering running commentary that drew a crowd of chuckling onlookers. When a small child finally hit the target, sending Amelia splashing into the water, the crowd erupted into applause, and Amelia emerged from the tank, dripping but grinning broadly.

As dusk settled and they enjoyed the lights of the ferris wheel, Amelia, still damp from the dunk tank, decided to buy a hot dog. No sooner had she taken a bite than a sneaky seagull swooped down, snatching the sausage right from the bun. Amelia's shocked expression turned to laughter as Fluttershy jokingly scolded the bird, which seemed to wink at them before flying off.

Through all these comic mishaps, Amelia and Fluttershy found joy in the unexpected, their laughter creating a bond as strong as the memories they were making. Each moment of hilarity brought them closer, turning Amelia's visit into a delightfully funny adventure they would reminisce about for years to come.

“That was great! We have to do this again!” Amelia exclaimed, her voice bubbling with energy as she bounced slightly on the balls of her feet. The sugar rush from the cotton candy and other treats had her spirits soaring, and despite the evening hour, her enthusiasm showed no signs of waning.

“Definitely, Pooch had a good time too.” Fluttershy agreed, her voice filled with laughter as she gestured towards the little Timber Wolf pup. Amelia and Fluttershy watched with amusement as Pooch, too, seemed to be on a sugar high. The pup was comically attempting to reach the last bits of candy floss stuck on the end of his wooden nose. Each desperate lick just narrowly missed, causing the candy to bob amusingly each time.

The sight was too much, and both burst out laughing as Pooch continued his futile yet determined efforts. Amelia kneeled down to help, gently pulling the sticky candy floss off his nose and feeding it to him, which only made his tail wag more vigorously in delight.

“Look at him, he’s going to be dreaming of candy floss tonight!” Amelia chuckled, ruffling Pooch's wooden fur affectionately.

Fluttershy nodded, smiling warmly at the scene. “And I think we’ll all sleep well tonight, after such a fun day.” she added, her eyes twinkling with contentment.

As they made their way out of the carnival grounds, the sky deepened into a dusky purple, the lights of the carnival fading behind them. The laughter and shared joy of the day lingered, a happy echo of the fun they had enjoyed. Amelia looped her arm through Fluttershy’s as they walked, her steps light and her heart full, already looking forward to their next adventure together.

Amelia's ears twitched instinctively, picking up the distant rumble of drums and a chorus of voices that seemed to chant in unison. It was a sound that stirred something deep within her, pulling at a thread of memory she couldn't quite grasp. She halted abruptly, her head turning towards the source of the noise. "Do you hear that?" she asked, her voice filled with wonder, her eyes alight with curiosity.

Fluttershy paused as well, her own ears perking up as she listened. A crease of concern furrowed her brow as she caught the sounds that had so captivated Amelia. Unlike Amelia's awe, a frown formed on Fluttershy's face, her instinct perhaps sensing something amiss. "Come on, Amelia.” she urged, her tone gentle yet firm, trying to steer her friend away from the mysterious sounds.

"It sounds like chanting. Let's check it out!" Amelia insisted, her enthusiasm undampened. Pooch, sensing the excitement in her voice, barked in agreement, though Fluttershy didn't share their eagerness to investigate.

"It's been a long day, hun. Let's just head home and put away our groceries. I'll make some hot chocolate while we all watch a movie together. Sound good?" Fluttershy proposed, hoping the promise of a cozy evening would sway Amelia. The suggestion was tempting, laden with the comfort of warmth and relaxation.

However, the distant chants tugged at Amelia more strongly than the allure of hot chocolate and a movie. They echoed with a passion that resonated within her, reminiscent of battle cries and solidarity—a call that felt too personal to ignore. It was almost as if the voices were calling out to her, beckoning her to join them, to rediscover a part of herself that was lost or perhaps waiting to be found.

Without another word, Amelia turned and bolted towards the sound, driven by a mix of curiosity and an inexplicable sense of belonging. Her heart pounded with the thrill of the unknown, each beat echoing the rhythmic drums in the distance. "Amelia! Stop!" Fluttershy shouted, her voice laced with concern as she dropped the basket of groceries. Fruits and vegetables tumbled out, rolling across the ground as she hurried after Amelia, desperate to catch her before she disappeared into the night, drawn irresistibly towards the chanting that seemed to promise answers or perhaps an adventure all its own.

Amelia dashed forward, propelled by an urgency that transcended her usual caution. Her feet pounded the cobblestone as she darted into the network of narrow alleyways that snaked through Ponyville. The sounds of the chanting grew louder, more compelling with each step, pulling her deeper into its mystery. Her breaths came in quick, sharp gasps as she maneuvered around corners and leaped over small obstacles, her mind singularly focused on reaching the source of the alluring noise.

The alleyways were a blur, the shadows of the evening casting long, twisting patterns on the ground that flickered under the sporadic street lamps. Amelia's heart raced, not just from the run but from the anticipation of what she might discover. She felt a connection to the sound, a deep, resonant chord that seemed to echo through her very being, urging her forward, faster and more determined.

Finally, Amelia burst out of the last narrow passageway and into a wide, open space. The scene before her was nothing short of mesmerising. Amelia's eyes widened in awe as she took in the sight. her eyes scanned the passing ponies as they walked. Something seeming familiar about this crowded march. Many of the ponies were wearing lime green jerseys, that lime green pony crest she saw earlier today on the shirts. Amelia couldn't help but wonder where they were all going and what was happening. Curiosity began to fill her mind as she pondered the mysterious sight.

As Amelia's excitement surged at the sight and sounds before her, Fluttershy caught up, panting heavily from the chase. Pooch trotted loyally at her side, his small frame also heaving from the effort. "Fluttershy? Where are they all headed? It seems like something exciting is happening.” Amelia asked, her voice tinged with wonder as she absorbed the vibrant scene unfolding before them.

Fluttershy, still trying to catch her breath, glanced nervously at the crowd. Her eyes then focused on the distinctive shirts worn by the ponies—a symbol or logo that suddenly triggered a memory. A flicker of recognition flashed across her features, followed by a visible wave of apprehension. "Amelia, let's just go, hun. It’s getting late.” she said, her voice strained, the usual calm demeanor frayed by the unexpected encounter.

"Let's follow! It sounds like fun! Please!" Amelia pleaded, her enthusiasm undampened by Fluttershy's evident discomfort. Her eyes sparkled with the thrill of the adventure, eager to dive into whatever celebration or event was drawing such a lively crowd.

Fluttershy hesitated, torn between her protective instincts and not wanting to dampen Amelia's spirits. With a reluctant sigh and a worried glance at the throng of ponies, she conceded. "Alright." she muttered under her breath. Taking Amelia's hand more firmly and scooping Pooch into her other arm, she led them towards the throng.

As they merged with the flow of the crowd, Amelia's excitement was palpable; she absorbed every cheer, every song with wide-eyed delight, her heart beating in rhythm with the drums. Meanwhile, Fluttershy's anxiety simmered just below the surface. Her eyes darted around, watchful and tense, as she navigated through the revelry. The contrast between Amelia's uninhibited joy and Fluttershy's cautious apprehension painted a stark picture of their differing reactions to the same situation.

Amelia's heart raced as she moved with the flow of ponies, each step quickening with her mounting excitement. Pooch, securely cradled in Fluttershy's arms, peeked out with curious eyes, his ears twitching at the vibrant noises surrounding them. The energy in the air was electric, pulsating with the rhythms of chants and the melodic cadence of fervent fans. Amelia's mind raced through the possibilities of what the gathering could signify—a rugby match with its rough and tumble, a swift basketball game, or perhaps the dynamic thrill of a race.

However, as the sounds of collective excitement swelled around her, a realization struck her with the force of revelation—it must be football! The thought alone sent a thrill through her veins. She envisioned the field, the players in motion, the ball flying from foot to foot, and the crowd reacting to every move with bated breath. The possibility of experiencing this beloved sport in a new world filled her with a childlike glee.

Her eyes sparkled with anticipation, and she could almost feel herself among the crowd at a stadium, cheering, clapping, and shouting encouragement. The infectious spirit of the event drew her in deeper, her steps unconsciously syncing with the rhythm of the chants, her voice ready to join the chorus of cheers. Amelia's enthusiasm for the game and her love for the sport momentarily bridged the gap between her world and this new, magical place she was beginning to embrace.

Amelia's excitement was palpable as she absorbed the vibrant energy around her, the air electric with the shouts and cheers of the crowd. "This is absolutely boss! I can't believe how many ponies have gathered in one place!" she shouted, trying to make her voice heard over the cacophony. Her eyes gleamed with delight, her expression one of utter joy as she took in the sea of enthusiastic faces.

Fluttershy, however, felt a stark contrast in her emotions. The dense crowd and loud noises sent a ripple of anxiety through her, but she masked her discomfort with a practiced smile, focusing on Amelia's happiness. The rhythmic chanting of the crowd, a powerful and unified chorus, swelled to a crescendo, making any attempt at conversation nearly impossible. Fluttershy could only nod in response to Amelia, her own voice lost in the collective excitement.

The streets of Ponyville, usually quiet and serene, had indeed transformed into a spectacle of joyful chaos. Flags waved, feet stomped, and every face was alight with anticipation and camaraderie.

The vibrant thrum of Ponyville's spirited celebration pulsed through the air, carrying the excitement to every corner of the town. Green and white flags billowed gracefully in the breeze, their colors a vivid contrast against the clear night sky. Scarves in matching hues were draped around the necks of countless ponies, fluttering like banners of team spirit as they moved through the streets.

Everywhere Amelia looked, there was a tapestry of unity and enthusiasm. Ponies of all kinds—earth ponies, unicorns, and Pegasi—came together, their voices rising in a powerful chorus that echoed off the buildings and filled the open spaces with a resonant energy. Above, Pegasi added an aerial dimension to the spectacle, their wings beating in rhythm as they circled over the gathering, their joyful calls mingling with the cheers below.

The atmosphere was nothing short of infectious. It seeped into Amelia, igniting a firework of excitement that coursed through her entire being. Her heart beat in sync with the rhythmic chanting, and her feet tapped unconsciously to the beat of the drums that some enthusiastic fans banged nearby. The sea of green and white washed over her, and she felt herself drawn irresistibly into its flow.

Amelia's eyes sparkled with exhilaration, and a wide grin spread across her face. She could no longer hold back her desire to be a part of this vibrant community celebration. With a joyous whoop, she joined in the chanting, her voice strong and clear. "Here we go! Here we go! Here we go!" she cheered, throwing her hands in the air and swaying with the rhythm of the crowd.

Amelia felt a sense of familiarity wash over her as she soaked in the electrifying atmosphere of Ponyville. It reminded her of the vibrant energy she experienced at Goodison Park, the stadium of Everton Football Club, before a match. The passionate fans, their unwavering support for the club, and their love for the sport created a unique ambiance that couldn't be replicated elsewhere. Amelia was certain that this was indeed a football game, as no other sport, not even on a different planet, could emulate the awe-inspiring atmosphere that football had. Her anticipation grew even stronger, and she could hardly wait to witness the excitement and thrill of the game unfold before her eyes.

Tonight, she will watch the beautiful game of football.

Chapter 4 - The Toffees Vs The Reds.

Chapter 4

As Amelia and Fluttershy arrived at the location, it became undeniable that they had indeed stumbled upon a football game. Amelia clutched her ticket tightly in her hand, a symbol of the excitement that awaited her. However, she couldn't help but notice that the venue wasn't quite what she expected. It wasn't a grand stadium with towering stands, but rather a modest football pitch enclosed by railings. The small, individual stands were gradually filling up with home fans. Despite its humble appearance, the sheer number of fans present made it evident that this was a professional club—the pride of Ponyville. The realisation only fuelled Amelia's anticipation and added to the thrill of being part of this unique football experience.

Above the excitement of the football pitch, the night sky stretched vast and majestic, a deep velvety blue punctuated by the glittering jewels of countless stars. The floodlights cast their beams upward, some of the light escaping into the night, where it mingled with the celestial glow. The moon, nearly full, hung prominently, bathing the scene in a soft, silvery luminescence that highlighted the gentle drift of a few wispy clouds. These clouds, thin and serene, seemed to glide peacefully across the sky, undisturbed by the energy below. The stark contrast between the vibrant, lively activity on the ground and the tranquil, timeless expanse above created a backdrop of sublime beauty, enhancing the magical feeling of the evening.

Amelia and Fluttershy settled into their seats on the middle row of the side stand, eagerly observing as the remaining seats filled up around them. Bursting with anticipation, Amelia couldn't contain her excitement any longer. She turned to Fluttershy, her voice filled with enthusiasm. "Fluttershy! Who's playing? Who is Ponyville going up against?" Her body practically vibrating with eagerness, she could hardly wait for the kickoff to witness the thrilling match unfold before her eyes.

"From what I heard, it's The Toffees versus The Reds from Canterlot. its a derby game.” Fluttershy explained, a hint of confusion in her voice as she glanced at her ticket. Amelia's excitement momentarily wavered as she processed the information. She had a brief moment of confusion before it clicked in her mind. The Toffees and The Reds, a classic rivalry. It all made sense now. A surge of anticipation flooded back into Amelia as she realised the intensity and significance of the match she was about to witness. The atmosphere around her seemed to buzz with anticipation, matching her own excitement.

“T-T-T-Toffees… Vs… The Reds!?!?!?!?!?!?” Amelia exclaimed, her voice filled with disbelief and excitement. No way! It's a derby match, just like the rivalry between Everton and Liverpool! She couldn't believe her luck. The intensity and passion of a local derby added an extra layer of excitement to the already thrilling football match she was about to witness. The echoes of the historic rivalry between the Toffees and The Reds in Ponyville only deepened her anticipation for the kickoff. Amelia couldn't wait to experience the electric atmosphere and the fierce competition that awaited her
.
"Wow, Ponyville's hoofball club is named the Toffees, and their rivals are The Reds.” Amelia remarked, absorbing the information. She nodded, understanding the significance of the upcoming match. "Its crucial game for the Toffees. They're fighting to climb out of the relegation zone. Going up against The Reds won't be easy, though." Fluttershy said, the information only added to the anticipation and intensity of the match. Amelia couldn't help but feel a surge of excitement mixed with a tinge of nervousness for the Toffees and their important battle ahead.

Amelia's eyes widened in shock as she processed the news of the Toffees potentially facing relegation. The realisation hit her hard, and she couldn't help but feel a surge of concern for the team. "Wait... relegation? Where are they in the league table?" she asked, her voice filled with worry. The thought of her beloved Toffees being in danger of moving down to a lower division weighed heavily on her mind. She anxiously awaited Fluttershy's response, hoping for some reassurance amidst the uncertainty.

"I'm not entirely sure, but it seems that the Toffees really need a victory today." Fluttershy responded uncertainly.

Suddenly, a wave of loud cheers reverberated throughout the stadium, drawing their attention to the pitch. The Toffees, adorned in their vibrant lime green jerseys, crisp white shorts, and matching lime green football socks, emerged from the tunnel. They jogged onto the field with a sense of purpose, their heads down in deep concentration.

However, the euphoria of the cheers quickly transformed into a chorus of boos and whistles as the opposing team made their entrance. These players, dressed entirely in red, were met with a barrage of disapproval from the home fans. Undeterred, the away supporters responded with their own fervent chants, creating a spirited and electric atmosphere within the stadium. The stage was set for an intense clash between the Toffees and The Reds, sparking a palpable sense of anticipation among the spectators.

Amelia observed intently as the players from both teams engaged in their warm-up routines, hoping to catch a glimpse of their skills and teamwork. The Toffees started with passing drills, attempting to establish a fluid connection on the pitch. However, Amelia couldn't help but notice the lack of chemistry among the players. Their passes appeared sloppy, lacking the crispness and accuracy expected at this level of play. The team's movement seemed sluggish, lacking the sharpness and precision required to outmanoeuvre their opponents.

The sight was difficult for Amelia to watch. She couldn't help but feel a pang of worry for the Toffees. It seemed that they had a long way to go in terms of developing their teamwork and honing their skills. The match ahead would undoubtedly be a challenging one, and Amelia hoped that the team could find their footing and rise to the occasion.

Are these the players I’m supposed to support?

Amidst the concerns surrounding the team's overall performance, Amelia's attention was captivated by a few standout individuals. One of them was a young pegasus who sat on the bench, her head lowered and her chin resting on intertwined fingers. Despite not being on the field, there was a determined look in her purple eyes, signalling her readiness to contribute whenever called upon. Amelia sensed a strong sense of focus emanating from her, as if she was prepared to give her all for the team's success.

Another player who caught Amelia's eye was a white-furred unicorn with a wild, two-toned blue mane. She sported a pair of headphones, nodding along to the beat as she skilfully manipulated the ball with her feet. Amelia couldn't help but admire the fluidity and precision of her footwork. Her relaxed demeanour, complemented by her red ruby eyes, added a touch of calmness to her presence. It was evident that she possessed a natural talent and a sense of flair on the field.

The final player who stood out to Amelia was a tall, red stallion donning the captain's armband. His posture exuded strength and determination, projecting the image of a true leader. He moved from player to player, commanding attention and instilling a sense of confidence within the team. Amelia was particularly impressed by his passing abilities. Whether it was long passes, quick one-touch passes, or intricate manoeuvres, the Captain of the Toffees displayed exceptional skill and precision. His versatility and mastery of the game suggested that he could excel in positions such as a central defender or a holding midfielder.

Amelia couldn't help but feel a glimmer of hope as she recognised these individuals who possessed unique qualities and talents. Perhaps they would be the key to unlocking the team's potential and turning the tide against formidable opponents like The Reds.

Amelia's keen eyes caught a glimpse of an intriguing interaction taking place at the bottom of the stands right in front of her. Two mares, one a purple unicorn with… wings? And the other an orange earth pony, seemed engaged in a conversation. The earth pony sported a stetson hat, concealing her blond mane, while three white freckled dots adorned each of her cheeks. Her calm and steady green eyes exuded a sense of groundedness. The cowgirl vibes emanating from her attire only added to her distinctive character.

On the other hand, the purple unicorn exuded an air of elegance and sophistication. She was dressed impeccably in a black suit, complemented by a white shirt with the top buttons casually undone. Her black pants and high heels added to her polished appearance. Perched on her nose were black-rimmed glasses, further enhancing her intelligent and composed demeanour. The sight of her discreet chuckle, hidden behind a slight fist, hinted at her playful nature.

Amelia couldn't help but wonder if these two mares were the managers of the respective teams. The purple unicorn's refined appearance and subtle laughter suggested a level of sophistication that aligned with a managerial role. Meanwhile, the earth pony's cowgirl attire and composed demeanour hinted at her potential as a team leader. However, without further information or context, Amelia couldn't determine which manager was associated with which team. She eagerly anticipated learning more about these intriguing figures and the impact they would have on the match unfolding before her.

Amelia's attention swiftly shifted as unexpected commentary reverberated throughout the area, capturing the attention of the spectators. To her surprise, a colossal magical screen materialised above the pitch out of thin air. Two ponies, dressed in sleek black suits and sporting headphones, turned their gaze towards the screen, ready to deliver their commentary.

The pony on the left side of the screen spoke with enthusiasm, his voice projecting a sense of excitement. "Welcome, ladies and gentlestallions, to the Equestrian League, the finest league in the land!" His words echoed through the stadium, setting the stage for the thrilling match that was about to unfold. The mention of the Equestrian League invoked a sense of prestige and significance, further fuelling the anticipation among the spectators.

Amelia couldn't help but feel a surge of excitement as she realised the magnitude of the event she was about to witness. The presence of the commentators and the grandeur of the magical screen added an extra layer of spectacle to the already captivating atmosphere. She eagerly prepared herself for the action that was about to unfold, ready to immerse herself in the world of Equestrian League football.

The epic declaration from the pony on the right ignited a wave of cheers from the impassioned fans, who had eagerly awaited this long-anticipated match. He declared, with a dramatic flair, "And today, we present to you one of the most intense fixtures of the season! A rivalry so sweet and bitter that it's a referee's nightmare to manage! I bring to you — The Royal Reds vs The Mighty Toffees!!!" The crowd erupted with excitement, their energy palpable in the air.

Amelia was swept up in the atmosphere, her anticipation reaching new heights. The mention of the Royal Reds and the Mighty Toffees, coupled with the commentator's electrifying delivery, further fuelled her excitement. She was well aware that the Reds were considered the clear favourites, but she couldn't help but wonder if the Toffees had a surprise in store, a hidden strategy to combat their formidable adversaries.

The commentator turned to his colleague, addressing him as Lynx, seeking his prediction for the match. Amelia leaned in, eager to hear what insights Lynx would offer. The Reds' dominance was widely acknowledged, but perhaps Lynx had some unique perspective to share, shedding light on the Toffees' potential to challenge and surprise their dangerous opponents. The tension and anticipation mounted as the stage was set for an enthralling clash between these two rival teams.

Lynx, brimming with excitement, responded to Neo's inquiry with careful consideration. "It's a difficult one to predict, Neo! The Reds are known for their skilful play and technical prowess. Their mentality is always geared towards securing a victory. However, Everton, the Toffees, possess a certain aggressiveness and tenacity. They are unafraid to take risks, especially when high rewards are at stake. This means we can expect more tackles and a fair share of cards in this match."

Lynx's words conveyed his belief that the Toffees would make it a scrappy affair, not giving the Reds any opportunity to dictate the pace of the game with their preferred style of play. The anticipation in his voice was evident, although he maintained a professional demeanour, trying to conceal his underlying smile.

Amelia couldn't help but feel a surge of excitement upon hearing Lynx's analysis. The prospect of a fierce battle between the Toffees' grit and the Reds' finesse added an extra layer of intrigue to the match. She eagerly awaited the kickoff, ready to witness the clash of contrasting styles and see if the Toffees could disrupt the Reds' rhythm and secure a surprising result.

"I couldn't agree more, Neo." Lynx concurred, acknowledging the Toffees' home advantage as a potential motivating factor. However, he cautioned against underestimating the Reds' ability to adapt to any situation. If the Toffees were to play hardball, the Reds had the capability to match their intensity and even raise the stakes.

Amelia nodded in agreement, recognising the importance of both teams' adaptability and resilience in determining the outcome of the match. The contrasting dynamics between the Toffees' struggling form this season and the Reds' status as title contenders heightened the intrigue surrounding this fixture.

As Neo shifted his attention downward, he revealed a piece of paper, signalling the upcoming presentation of statistics. Amelia leaned in, eager to absorb the valuable insights that would shed light on the teams' previous performances and potentially offer clues about their strategies for this highly anticipated match. The air was filled with anticipation as the stage was set for the unveiling of these crucial statistics.

As Neo presented the staggering statistics, Amelia's heart sank. The numbers painted a bleak picture for the Toffees and their fans. Since the start of October, only The Gunners had accrued more Equestrian League points than the Canterlot Reds, amassing an impressive 18 points. The Reds had emerged victorious in six out of their eight matches during that period, showcasing their dominance on the field.

Adding to the Toffees' woes, Neo revealed that they had never emerged victorious in any of their previous ten encounters against the Reds in all competitions. With a record of nine wins and one draw in their favour, the Reds held a complete stronghold over their rivals. The Toffees had only managed to secure four points out of a possible 33 in their past eleven meetings, with just a solitary win, one draw, and nine defeats.

The weight of these statistics was palpable, and the Toffee fans couldn't contain their disappointment, expressing their dissatisfaction with boos echoing through the stadium. Amelia cringed, knowing that the odds were stacked against her beloved team. It was undeniably clear that the Toffees were entering this match as the underdogs, facing an uphill battle to overcome the Reds' historical dominance.

Amelia's confidence wavered, but she held onto a glimmer of hope, recognising that statistics didn't always determine the outcome of a single match. She hoped that the Toffees would rise above the odds and defy expectations, ready to witness a potential upset and a thrilling display of determination on the pitch.

Lynx's words brought a renewed sense of hope to Amelia and the Toffee fans. He presented a different perspective, highlighting the Toffees' impressive performances against top-four teams this season. In the past, the Toffees had struggled against such opponents, managing only three wins in their previous 33 encounters, with 26 losses and four draws. However, this season had seen a shift in their fortunes, with three victories in their last six matches against top-four sides, including notable wins against the Red Devils, the Lilywhites, and the Crows.

Furthermore, Lynx emphasised the Toffees' recent resurgence. After a slow start to the season, where they had accumulated just three points from their first nine league games, the team had experienced a turnaround in form. They had garnered 13 points from their last six matches, with four wins, one draw, and one loss. This positive trend indicated that the Toffees' initial struggles might have been temporary, and they were now displaying the resilience and determination to compete at a higher level.

Amelia felt the energy in the stadium shift as the Toffee fans erupted into cheers, their chants echoing throughout the stands. The newfound belief in their team's ability to fight against the odds was palpable. The injury concerns for the Reds only added to the Toffees' optimism, presenting an opportunity for a potentially promising result.

Immersed in the swirling emotions of the crowd, Amelia found herself voicing her observations aloud, her words carrying an undertone of admiration and resilience. "At least the fans haven't lost their fighting spirit." she mused, her voice barely rising above the energetic buzz of the crowd. The statement was more of a personal reflection, a salute to the unwavering commitment of the Toffees' supporters, despite the daunting statistics and odds stacked against their team.

In the midst of the sea of die-hard supporters, Amelia felt a sense of companionship. It was a bond forged out of shared love for the team, a camaraderie that thrived amidst the highs and lows of the game. Just like the rest of the crowd, she held onto hope, ready to cheer her team until the very end.

With the anticipation building, Neo announced the lineup for the visitors in an animated tone. "Let's delve into the details of the lineup for the visiting team, shall we? Opting for a 4-3-3 formation, Beck is the obvious choice for the goalkeeper position, undeniably one of Equestria's finest!" His tone carried a sense of affirmation, reflecting the widely held respect for Beck's abilities.

Neo continued to outline the team's defensive lineup, "In defence, we have Trenton at right back, the duo of Vandrick and Gnomez as centre-backs, and Braveheart securing the left-back position. A formidable defensive wall indeed, but also a force to be reckoned with in the attack!"

Moving on to the midfield setup, Neo added, "In the heart of the pitch, Macca Night takes up the pivotal number 6 role, flanked by Szobosky on the right and Gravelberch on the left. A noticeable change here, with Gravelberch stepping up to make his first start, filling in for Maestro who sustained a knock in the last match."

Relief coloured Neo's voice as he added, "Fortunately, Maestro's injury seems to be minor as he's on the bench, providing an experienced substitute option if needed."

The forward lineup brought an element of surprise, with Neo's voice rising in excitement. "In the front three, we have a fresh face from Canterlot's academy making a surprise start! Young Redsica Miles will be joining Lucho Luck on the left wing and Pharaoh on the right. A fascinating choice indeed!"

Neo turned to Lynx, seeking his opinion on the lineup. Amelia leaned in, intrigued by the unexpected change in the front three and eager to hear Lynx's analysis. The stage was set for an exciting match, the anticipation heightened by the surprise inclusion of the young Redsica Miles.

Lynx responded with a confident nod, his seasoned eyes scanning the lineup. "Indeed, Neo. This is a strong team, undoubtedly formidable to face off against. The inclusion of Redsica is an unexpected move, but I have full faith in the strategic acumen of Twilight Sparkle." he asserted, his tone carrying a note of respect for the team's manager.

Having witnessed Twilight Sparkle's tactical brilliance on numerous occasions, Lynx was well aware of her ability to balance risks and rewards effectively. He continued, "Twilight Sparkle has a knack for making bold decisions that often yield fruitful results. The decision to field Redsica could very well be one of those masterstrokes."

His gaze turned thoughtful as he added, "It's going to be interesting to see how this plays out in the upcoming match."

Neo's voice carried a tone of excitement as he started detailing the home team's lineup. "Here's what the home crowd has been eagerly waiting for! The Toffees, also lined up in a 4-3-3 formation, have chosen Caramel as their goalkeeper. He's proven himself to be a reliable last line of defence." he began, acknowledging the goalkeeper's track record.

"For the back-four, we have Noteworthy at right back, with Lyra and Bon Bon forming the centre-back pair, and Comet Tail completing the defence at left back." Neo continued, outlining the team's defensive line-up.

Moving on to the midfield, Neo elaborated, "We see the dynamic Minuette, the serene and tactically astute captain, Big Mac, and the energetic Thunderlane. This is a midfield that can dominate with their aggressive pressing game!"

As for the attacking trio, Neo's voice held a note of anticipation. "On the wings, we have the elegant Octavia on the left and her equally talented counterpart, Vinyl, on the right. And finally, leading the charge down the centre is the tenacious Derpy! While they might not boast the League's strongest attack, they have a knack for finding a way to score." he concluded.

With each name announced, the crowd roared louder, fuelling the growing anticipation in the stadium. The Toffees' lineup reflected a balance of skill, strategy, and determination. The home crowd, including Amelia, eagerly anticipated the kick-off, ready to cheer on their team with unwavering enthusiasm. The stage was set for a thrilling clash, and the excitement in the stadium was palpable.

Lynx chimed in, adding depth to the discussion about the lineup. "Let's not overlook the Toffees' bench. Despite a few injury setbacks and a somewhat thin squad, they've turned to their academy to bolster their options. One standout youngster is Scootaloo, known for her lethal finishing in front of the goal." he extolled, his voice ringing with admiration.

"Scootaloo has had a few impressive seasons with the U19s and U21s, making her mark as a promising talent. Her stellar performances have earned her a place on the bench alongside the senior players. That's a remarkable achievement, especially considering she's merely 16 years old. This demonstrates not only her potential but also the faith the coaching staff has in her." Lynx elaborated, his tone reflecting his appreciation for the young pegasus' talent.

Amelia listened attentively, intrigued by the young player's accomplishments. The inclusion of academy players provided a glimpse into the future of the team, adding an element of excitement to the upcoming match. She couldn't wait to see how these promising young players would perform on the big stage, hoping they would seize their opportunity to shine.

Neo chimed in, echoing Lynx's praise of the promising young player. "Indeed, Lynx! It's a remarkable achievement for such a young player. I can't help but hope we'll get to see Scootaloo step onto the pitch today and make a significant impact." he expressed, his voice tinged with anticipation.

He continued, his tone full of admiration, "Imagine the thrill of making a debut at such a crucial match. It would indeed be a legendary start for the young pegasus with the distinct purple mane."

Neo's endorsement of Scootaloo added to the growing excitement. Amelia, along with the rest of the crowd, felt a surge of anticipation. The prospect of witnessing a potential star in the making added an extra layer of intrigue to the upcoming match. The atmosphere in the stadium was electric as the fans eagerly awaited the kick-off, ready to cheer on their team and the promising young talent on the bench.

With an air of anticipation lingering in his voice, Neo addressed the eager listeners. "And with that, ladies and gentlestallions, the wait is almost over. We are just moments away from the start of the match. So, sit back, get comfortable and prepare to witness what promises to be an extraordinary display of hoofball!" His words echoed through the stadium, amplifying the electric atmosphere. The excitement was palpable as the crowd, including Amelia, braced themselves for the thrilling spectacle about to unfold on the pitch.

Despite Amelia's uncertainty about The Toffees' chances against The Reds, she found herself intrigued by the intricacies of the game. She wondered about the team's playing style, the strategies they adopted, and the specific roles each player was assigned. Would they stick to traditional tactics or embrace more modern approaches?

Amelia realised that her knowledge of hoofball, as they called it here - a term she found more appealing than 'soccer' - was rather limited. She found herself pondering over the rules of the game. Were the players allowed to use magic or fly during the match? Could there be more than eleven players on the field at any given time? The thought intrigued her.

While she didn't have all the answers yet, Amelia looked forward to learning more about this fascinating sport. With the match about to begin, she was all set to observe and understand the nuances of hoofball. Regardless of the outcome, she was sure it would be an interesting experience.

Following half an hour of observing the players' warm-up routines, the shrill sound of the referee's whistle echoed throughout the stadium. The sharp note brought the players' activities to an abrupt halt. One by one, they turned and made their way towards their respective coaches.

The teams gathered in tight huddles, their heads bowed and their attention focused on their managers' last-minute instructions. The anticipation in the stadium grew palpable as the crowd watched the players listen intently, absorbing the final strategic advice before the match commenced.

Amelia watched the scene unfold with interest, curious about the tactical discussions taking place within those huddles. She knew that the strategies outlined in these final moments could significantly influence the game's outcome. As the anticipation built, the imminent kick-off promised an exciting foray into the world of hoofball.

While Amelia may have harboured doubts about the outcome, it did nothing to dampen her excitement. Her affection for the sport ran deep, extending beyond mere club loyalties. The impending kick-off had her on the edge of her seat; she could hardly wait. She was eager for the thrill of a goal, the crowd's deafening roar, the heart-stopping moments of a fierce tackle.

As the excitement surged within her, Amelia could feel her pulse quicken, her adrenaline levels rise. Her grin widened with each passing moment, a reflection of her mounting anticipation. What was this feeling coursing through her? Was it excitement or nervousness? A sense of dread or unbridled enthusiasm? Perhaps it was a mixture of all these emotions. Regardless, it ignited a fierce, emerald fire within her.

Suddenly, merely spectating didn't seem enough. She yearned to be out there on the pitch, to be a part of the action, to feel the ball at her hooves. The desire to play was overwhelming. Amelia's heart echoed with the sentiment: she wasn't just a supporter, she was a player at heart.

Screw sitting here, I wanna play!

Fluttershy couldn't help but notice the intense passion in Amelia's eyes. They held a hunger akin to a timber wolf deprived of food for ten days. Amelia was leaning forward, her body quivering with barely contained excitement. Her smile was so wide, it could rival that of a certain pink pony.

The blue pegasus seemed lost in thought, her index finger pressed against her lips, her thumb resting under her chin. Her eyes darted around the pitch, taking in every detail with an intense focus. Fluttershy knew that Amelia had some connection with hoofball, but she never expected it to be this profound.

The transformation was surprising. The usually energetic filly had turned into this... this... well, Fluttershy wasn't quite sure what to call it. She had never seen anypony so consumed by a sport before. The intensity of Amelia's passion was slightly concerning for Fluttershy. She could only hope that Amelia's love for the sport would bring her joy, not trouble.

Fluttershy's contemplation was cut short as the players suddenly broke from their huddles and began dispersing across the field. They took their positions, their faces reflecting a blend of determination and focus.

The stadium buzzed with anticipation, the crowd's energy palpable. Amelia's eyes sparkled with excitement, her gaze fixed on the pitch. Fluttershy, although not as invested in the sport, shared in the anticipation.

The long-awaited moment had finally arrived. The match was about to begin!

20:00 PM — KICKOFF!

Within the opening minutes of the match, Amelia could already discern the clear difference in skill levels between the two teams. The Reds came out of the gates with a blistering intensity, instantly putting pressure on the Toffees.

In contrast, the Toffees appeared somewhat disorganised in their defensive efforts, struggling to intercept or successfully tackle. The Reds maintained possession, skilfully navigating the field for the initial few minutes.

Then, as Amelia had anticipated, the inevitable occurred...

5’ REDSICA!!! 1-0 The Reds FC! The stadium was silenced as the Reds FC scored the first goal! Redsica had given the visitors an early lead, leaving Ponyville and its supporters stunned. The Toffees' attempt to play out from the back had proven to be a sloppy move.

Macca had intercepted the ball brilliantly, showcasing a swift turn of pace to break away from Big Mac. The midfielder then sent a threatening cross into the six-yard box. That's where Redsica appeared, steering the ball past Caramel to score on her Equestrian League debut!

The Toffees had left themselves vulnerable, and the Reds had seized the opportunity. It was the perfect start for the visitors, leaving the home team and its supporters reeling from the early setback. Amelia watched, her heart sinking slightly but her fascination for the game unabated.
Amelia’s hands were on her head, seeing the terrible start to the match. "Bloody 'ell! We've started off dead slow and we've been proper punished for it!” Amelia said, mimicking all the other home fans' factual features. The Toffees need to wake up. Now!

10’ CHANCE! The Reds missed a golden opportunity to extend their lead when a perfectly timed through ball from Macca found Lucho in a promising position. However, he was forced wide and his subsequent shot was lackluster. Caramel made an easy save, preventing further damage.

The visitors would have to capitalise on such opportunities if they hoped to secure a win here.

Amelia couldn't help but admire Macca's skill. The short, earth pony Defence Midfielder had a knack for delivering precise passes, as he had just demonstrated. The Toffees had narrowly escaped conceding another goal, and it was only ten minutes into the match.

The intensity of the game spurred Amelia's excitement further. She decided to hold Pooch, her faithful companion, for comfort as she prepared herself to endure the nerve-wracking moments sure to follow in the rest of the match.

24’ OFFSIDE, NO GOAL! The visitors continued to keep the pressure on, patiently building up a play that resulted in Braveheart crossing the ball to Redsica. Her close-range header was expertly blocked by Caramel. Pharaoh attempted to nod the rebound into an empty net, but the offside flag was raised. Redsica had strayed beyond the last defender before meeting Braveheart's pass.

The Reds were proving to be a formidable force, maintaining the majority of possession and consistently threatening the Toffees' goal. The home team desperately needed a wake-up call if they were to turn things around.

Amelia exhaled deeply at the relentless pressure from the Reds. Their coordinated play, with each pass matched by a run behind the defensive line, was impressive. The team was showcasing their athleticism, skill, experience, and passion. All the key ingredients needed to be a world-class team were on full display.

While Amelia hated to admit it, she knew that unless the Toffees stepped up their game, defeat was inevitable. Her heart pounded with a mix of trepidation and excitement as the match continued to unfold.

26’ YELLOW CARD! Pharaoh, the Reds' Right Winger, was issued a yellow card for delaying a Toffee corner kick, a clear instance of time-wasting.

However, Amelia could see through the ploy. It was a tactical move, designed to agitate the Toffees, and it seemed to be working. She could see the Toffee players bristle, their teeth gritting in response to the overt disrespect. It was a dirty tactic, but the Reds were clearly aiming to undermine the Toffees psychologically.

She watched with a mix of intrigue and disapproval. This was one side of the sport she didn't care for - the manipulation and mind games. But she understood that it was part of the strategy, and it only made her more determined to see how the Toffees would respond.

30’ YELLOW CARD! Following a tackle by Szobosky that brought Comet Tail to the ground, the Toffee player seemed to overreact in his protest about the challenge. His overzealous response earned him a yellow card.

Amelia noted the Toffees' growing frustration. To lose their cool over a tactical foul during a counterattack was counterproductive. The players seemed to be letting their emotions get the better of them. Despite efforts from the captain and coach to calm them, the intensity of the rivalry was clearly getting to them.

The game was heating up, the tension palpable. Amelia couldn't help but feel a pang of concern for the Toffees, hoping they'd regain their composure and get back into the game.

39’ OFF THE POST! The Toffees breathed a sigh of relief as the woodwork denied Redsica a goal-scoring opportunity. The young forward managed to get a shot off from a tight angle, beating Caramel, but the ball ricocheted off the left upright. The Reds were so close to taking a 2-0 lead in the match. The Toffees were forced to defend with all their might, desperately trying to hang on and wait for the right moment to turn the game in their favour.

As the first half progressed, the Reds continued to dominate the game. The Toffees had little to show for their efforts, primarily focusing on defensive play. Amelia felt frustrated by the team's lack of offensive prowess, noting the absence of creativity and speed on the wings. The lack of scoring opportunities was disheartening, and she hoped to see a change in the team's approach in the second half.

45’ HALFTIME! At halftime, The Reds lead The Toffees by a single goal. The visitors secured their lead just five minutes into the match at Ponyville. Macca intercepted Minuettes' loose clearance and delivered a dangerous cross that Redsica converted into a goal. Redsica also struck the post later in the half, coming close to extending their advantage.

It was a positive first half for The Reds, showcasing their dominance with more possession and quick passes that troubled The Toffees' defence. The home fans were on edge as they witnessed the intense battle between attack and defence unfold on the pitch. The Reds were clearly in control, but could The Toffees hold their ground? Would they be able to capitalise on counterattacks against the favoured league champions, The Reds, and turn the tide in their favour in the second half?

As the players regrouped during halftime, hydrating with water and receiving instructions from their animated coaches, one of whom sported a frantic look under her stetson hat while the other, a composed unicorn, offered guidance. The Toffees appeared fatigued, gasping for air and drenched in sweat.

Amelia acknowledged the team's defensive efforts, commending their determination to block passes and make crucial tackles near the 18-yard box. However, she couldn't ignore their struggles in transitioning the ball to their forwards. The midfielders faced relentless pressure from The Reds, leaving them little time to make decisions or control the game. The Toffees seemed overwhelmed by the opposition's intensity, struggling to find their rhythm.

Watching the team's challenges unfold was tough for Amelia. She held onto hope that the second half would bring about a much-needed change in their performance.

Amelia carefully analysed The Reds' gameplay, scrutinising each player's movements. She couldn't shake off her concern that these players had been holding back in the first half. Players like Lucho, Pharaoh, and Redsica displayed remarkable speed and unpredictability, posing a constant threat in their respective positions on the field. Their quick footwork and dribbling skills made them a nightmare for defenders, requiring utmost caution to contain.

Amelia observed that the front three players not only excelled in attacking but also displayed strong defensive work ethic. When they or a teammate lost possession, they immediately tracked back and applied pressure, disrupting The Toffees' passing lanes and counterattacking opportunities. This relentless pressing from The Reds made it challenging for The Toffees to find openings and regain control of the game.

In analysing The Reds' team dynamics, Amelia focused on the midfield trio of Gavelberch, Szobosky, and Macca. These players formed the backbone of the team, excelling in creating passes, interceptions, tackles, and scoring opportunities. Their versatility allowed them to contribute effectively to defence, pressing, and attack, showcasing their indispensable role in the team's strategy.

While Amelia hadn't closely observed the defenders' performance, she recognised their readiness to thwart any Toffee attacks. Vandrink, The Red's captain, played a pivotal role in motivating and keeping the defenders alert for decisive moments. The full-backs, Trenton and Braveheart, displayed an interesting dynamic by operating almost like wing-backs in attacking scenarios, while also pressing the opposition wingers when out of possession. This dual role posed both offensive advantages and defensive risks, but their strategy seemed effective, especially given The Toffee's struggle to advance beyond their own half.

As for the goalkeeper, although he had a quiet first half, commentators praised him as one of the top goalkeepers in Equestria. While Amelia hadn't witnessed his skills firsthand, she respected the commentators' insights and trusted their judgment on his capabilities.

Amelia leaned back against the cool metal of the stadium bleachers, her gaze distant and troubled as she contemplated the match unfolding before her. The setting moon cast long shadows across the field, highlighting the intensity of the players as they moved.

Amelia's analysis hung in the air, mingled with the cheers and groans of the crowd around them, a testament to the challenge of deciphering a way to outplay such a well-oiled machine.

Amelia knew all to well about underdog comebacks in football but, with such a dominant first half from the Reds, Amelia didn’t know if that was possible now. She could only hope and was wrong.

21:00 – Start of the second half! No changes into the second half!

51’ SUBSTITUTION! Amelia watched intently as the substitution board lit up, announcing the Toffees' tactical switch. She arched an eyebrow skeptically when Derpy, who had only registered 35 touches—the lowest among the outfield players—made way for the much-talked-about Scootaloo. At just 16, the young wonderfilly was stepping onto the pitch with the weight of expectations on her shoulders.

Initially, Amelia felt a twinge of doubt about the substitution. "They’re off their heads." she muttered under her breath. "Swapping one striker for another isn’t what they need right now. They should be bringing on someone who can boss the centre of the pitch, get a hold of the game, y’know?"

But as the game progressed, Amelia’s skepticism began to wane. It became clear that Scootaloo was not just any striker; she was playing as a false-9. Her role was more nuanced—dropping back, pressing aggressively when The Reds had possession, sneaking up from behind to snatch the ball away on occasions. Her movements were disruptive, pulling midfielders and defenders out of position and cleverly feeding through balls to the wingers.

Amelia’s expression shifted from doubt to admiration. "Ah, now I see what they’re doing here." she exclaimed, her voice carrying a mix of surprise and approval. "This lass isn’t just here to score; she’s here to stir things up, create chaos among The Reds' lines. If they aren’t careful, this change could very well lead to a goal."

The substitution, initially puzzling, was proving to be a shrewd move, showing that sometimes the most impactful players on the pitch were those who could redefine their roles dynamically, keeping the opponents guessing and on edge.

58’ SUBSTITUTION! As The Reds responded with a substitution of their own, Amelia scrutinised the new player jogging onto the pitch. Szoboszlai, who had been covering a lot of ground in midfield, was replaced by Dyson Bald, a figure whose physical presence was as notable as his name. Positioned in the middle of the park, Dyson's role as a defensive midfielder was clear from his build alone—a towering unicorn who seemed built to dominate physically.

Amelia watched Dyson's first few interactions closely, noting how he positioned himself strategically in response to Scootaloo's movements. "He’s probably been brought on to shadow Scootaloo, win back the ball when she tries one of her little tricks." Amelia commented to Fluttershy, who nodded in understanding.

Despite Dyson's imposing presence, Amelia remained skeptical. "Smart move, but Scootaloo is on fire today. Can he really stop her?" she mused, more to herself than to Fluttershy. "I don’t think so." Her tone was confident, almost defiant, as she observed Scootaloo continue to dart around, her youthful energy and unpredictable movements proving a challenge even for someone as prepared as Dyson.

The tactical chess match unfolding on the field was a testament to the depth and strategy of the game, and Amelia's insights brought a deeper appreciation for the nuances each player and substitution brought to the match.

60’ YELLOW CARD! As the match intensity escalated, Scootaloo found herself in a promising breakaway, her legs pumping furiously towards the goal. Just as she prepared to manoeuvre past the last line of defence, Gnomez stepped in, his intentions clear and his actions deliberate, pulling her down in a tactical foul to stop the counterattack.

The crowd erupted in boos as Scootaloo hit the turf, her frustration palpable. In a moment of youthful indiscretion, she sprang to her feet and waved an imaginary yellow card in the direction of the referee, signalling her belief that Gnomez deserved a booking for his actions.

However, the referee, unamused by her antics, reached into his pocket and brandished a real yellow card—directed at Scootaloo herself. The stadium filled with a mix of reactions, some fans jeering the decision, others shaking their heads at the young striker's rashness.

Amelia shook her head, her expression a mixture of annoyance and understanding. "It’s silly to be asking for cards like that, especially as a young'un on the pitch. But it was understandable." she admitted. "Gnomez clearly took her down on purpose to stop that counter. He should’ve seen yellow too, to be fair."

The incident served as a harsh lesson for Scootaloo, a reminder of the discipline required at this level of play. Amelia sympathised with the teenager’s plight but knew that part of her growth as a player would involve navigating these frustrating moments with maturity.

67’ SIDE-NETTING! As the game wore on, the Toffees began to show glimpses of their potential. A surge down the right flank saw Noteworthy, the full-back, pushing far up into an attacking position. With the defence stretched and scrambling, he managed to carve out a sliver of space for himself, just enough to unleash a shot from a tight angle.

The crowd leaned forward in anticipation, but disappointment washed over the stands as the ball whistled past the wrong side of the post. It was a solid attempt, but as Amelia watched, she couldn't help but critique the choice.

"He had a good go, but there was more he could've done there." Amelia remarked, her tone a blend of encouragement and frustration. "With Scootaloo and Octavia both in prime positions inside the box, a cross might've been the smarter play. Either of them could’ve got a touch and turned it into something special."

Despite the missed opportunity, the shot marked the first significant attempt on goal for the Toffees. Amelia appreciated the effort but knew that to truly capitalise on their moments, the team needed to make smarter decisions in the final third.

"It’s the first proper shot we’ve had at least." she conceded, folding her arms as she leaned back. "But in spots like that, you've got to either make the keeper work or put it where your teammates can have a go. Just blasting it isn't enough." Her eyes followed Noteworthy as he jogged back into position, hopeful for more and better chances as the match progressed.

68’ DYSON!!! 2-0 THE REDS! The air around Amelia thickened with tension as the Reds executed a flawless counterattack. Redsica led the charge, swiftly transitioning the ball to Pharaoh, who arched a deep cross towards the far post. There, Dyson, the substitution made earlier to shore up defence, showcased his value in offence by heading the ball past a helpless Caramel. The Reds' fans erupted in celebration, their cheers a stark contrast to the groans from the Toffee supporters.

"FUCK!" Amelia couldn't contain her frustration as she stood abruptly, her shout echoing around her. The sudden outburst mirrored the sentiments of many around her, but it starkly contrasted with the usually jovial atmosphere she maintained.

"Language!" Fluttershy's voice cut through the tumult, her admonition tinged with surprise and a hint of disappointment. It wasn't often she heard such language from Amelia, typically reserved for the more rowdy or inebriated fans.

Amelia turned sharply towards Fluttershy, her face flushing with embarrassment. "S-sorry... I didn't mean to say that, y'know." she stammered, rubbing the back of her head while her ears flattened in regret.

Fluttershy huffed, her initial shock slowly replaced by a sympathetic understanding. She too felt a pang of frustration at the Reds' second goal. The Toffees had been gaining momentum, looking likely to score, only for the visitors to extend their lead, dashing hopes of a comeback. The jeers of the Reds' fans only added salt to the wound, stirring a mix of frustration and envy within her.

“It’s okay, Amelia… Just don’t let me catch you using any curse words again.” Fluttershy said, her gentle tone carrying an uncharacteristic firmness. Silence fell between them, an awkward reminder of the tension that sometimes surfaced in moments of high emotion.

Both sat back down, the sting of the goal and their brief exchange lingering in the air. Despite the setback, they shared a mutual hope, a silent wish that the Toffees would find a way to rally and give their fans something to cheer about before the final whistle.

70’ PENALTY FOR THE TOFFEES!? Is it a penalty? Dyson is caught out in possession by Scootaloo as she collects a Braveheart’s pass, and the Toffee’s striker feeds the winger (Vinyl) in the box. Vinyl looks to beat Vandrick with her quick feet but is brought down by The Red’s defender, and the referee has no hesitation in pointing straight to the spot! The referee's also reaching for a card, but the MVAR officials are asking him to double-check this...

Amelia was ecstatic about the rewarded penalty, Scootaloo did so well to win the ball back in the final 3rd, shocking the defence momentarily. All The Toffee fans cheered in celebration of the chance to score a clear goal from the spot. However, the celebration stopped when an announcement came from the speakers that the MVAR were looking into the incident between Dyson and Scootaloo where Dyson fell from a Scootaloo tackle.

M-M-M-M-M-M-M-M-M-M-M-M-M-M-M-M-M-m-M-M-MVAR!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!? What the hell is VAR doing in this world!?!?!?!? Even in this world, Amelia couldn’t escape VAR’s torment, and what the hell does the ‘M’ stand for? Magical Video Assistant Referee? Amelia could only hope this decision won’t be over turned. However, as a virtual, magical screen appear above the pitch, a close up of the tackle Scootaloo made was seen for all to see. The Toffee fans were protesting in disbelief, shouting some abusive words towards the referee that was being ambushed by the Toffee players while the referee had his finger in his ear, trying to listen to pony talking in his ear while trying to calm the crowd down. Amelia saw Scootaloo, Vinyl, Minuette and Big Mac surrounding the referee, trying to speak to him.

After a few, seconds of Scootaloo tackling Dyson from behind on a repeat, the final choice was made as it looked like Scootaloo brought down Dyson with enough force for it to be a foul.

73’ NO PENALTY!!! As the stadium erupted in dismay over the reversed penalty decision, Amelia felt her own frustration boiling up. The shouts of corruption and anger from other fans filled the air, echoing the collective sentiment that The Reds had escaped a crucial call against them. Under normal circumstances, Amelia might have joined in, casting blame on the officials for denying the Toffees a golden opportunity. However, this time, her perspective was tempered by what she had seen on the replay.

Watching the tackle up close on the magical display, it was clear to Amelia that Scootaloo's challenge was more aggressive than strategic. She saw that Scootaloo hadn’t managed to touch the ball before making contact with Dyson, which, under the rules, justified the call. This realisation brought with it a resigned sigh from Amelia; the emotional tide of the game had nearly swept her along, but the evidence was undeniable.

"I know it's tough, but it was the right call." Amelia muttered to herself, her voice barely audible above the din of discontent around her. She straightened up, her expression settling into one of reluctant acceptance. "We've got to play smarter, not harder. Can't win 'em all by shouts and yells." she reasoned, turning her focus back to the game.

Her mood had shifted from fiery to reflective. It was moments like these that tested not just the players on the field but also the fans in the stands. Amelia knew that the game must go on, and so must the support for her team, despite the setbacks. With a deep breath, she prepared to continue cheering on the Toffees, hoping they could find another way through The Reds' defence before the final whistle.

74’ SUBSTITUTION! As the clock wound down, the visitors decided to inject some fresh legs into their lineup. Gavelberch, who had been a pivotal figure in midfield, trotting off the pitch to a round of applause from the visiting fans, was replaced by Skipper for the final 18 minutes. As he made his way to the sidelines, Gavelberch exchanged a quick handshake with Twilight Sparkle, acknowledging the strategic shift designed to maintain their advantage and perhaps solidify their defence against any late surges from the Toffees.

Vandrick, the team captain until now, approached Skipper with a nod of respect and a clear gesture, passing over the captain's armband. This exchange was more than ceremonial; it was a signal of trust and a transfer of leadership responsibilities. Skipper adjusted the armband with a sense of purpose, his expression focused and ready for the challenge ahead.

Amelia watched this development closely, her analytical mind gauging what this change might mean for the dynamics on the pitch. "Bringing on Skipper this late could be a game-changer." she commented to Fluttershy, who nodded in agreement. "They’re looking to lock down the midfield, maybe slow down the pace and disrupt our rhythm."

Despite the setback of the penalty reversal, Amelia's spirit was unbroken. She clapped her hands, rallying the fans around her. "C’mon, Toffees! Let’s show ‘em we’re not done yet. There’s still time to turn this around." she shouted, her voice carrying hope and defiance.

As the game resumed, all eyes were on Skipper to see if he could fulfil the tactical expectations set by his coach and whether the Toffees could exploit any gaps left by the substitution. The match was far from over, and the tension only heightened as the minutes ticked away.

75’ VANDRICK!!! 3-0! THE REDS ARE IN DREAMLAND! As the match edged towards its conclusion, the Reds solidified their dominance with a defining move. Pharaoh, already pivotal throughout the match with his precise deliveries, whipped an inswinging corner into the heart of the Toffees' defence. Vandrick, seizing the moment, met the ball with a thunderous header that sailed past the goalkeeper and nestled into the bottom right corner of the net. The goal sent a wave of silence through Ponyville, the home crowd stunned into disbelief by the visitors' clinical execution.

"That's it, then." Amelia murmured, her tone a mixture of resignation and insight. "No sort of comeback or hope for a draw today. That's game over for the Toffees. Miserable way to lose in our own backyard." She leaned back, her thoughts reflecting on the broader implications of the match. "They never really stood a chance, did they? Not against a side this elite."

As she observed the Toffees' disheartened players regrouping to restart the game, Amelia's mind drew parallels between this match and the well-known rivalry between Everton and Liverpool.

This realisation, while painful, provided Amelia with a clearer perspective on the level of improvement needed for the Toffees to compete effectively against top-tier teams like the Reds. "At least now we know how far off we are." Amelia sighed, her eyes scanning the field as the game played out its final moments. "Gives us something to work towards, doesn't it?"

79’ SUBSTITUTIONS! In response to the overwhelming performance by the Reds, Applejack, the Toffees' coach, decided it was time for some tactical adjustments—not with the hope of overturning the result but to minimize further damage and give some rest to key players who had endured a strenuous match. With the game effectively out of reach, she made a triple substitution.

Braeburn came on to replace Octavia, injecting some fresh energy into the midfield. Meadow Song replaced Bon Bon in the heart of the defence, likely aiming to shore up the backline and prevent any additional goals. Lastly, Apple Cobbler took over from Vinyl, another midfield change intended to stabilise the centre of the park.

Amelia watched these changes unfold, understanding the strategy behind them. "It's not about trying to change the result now." Amelia murmured. "It’s more about protecting the senior players from fatigue and avoiding a more humiliating scoreline."

As the new players took to the field, Amelia continued, "This isn’t about impact on today's game—it’s about damage control and looking ahead. There’s no point in pushing the starters to exhaustion in a match that’s already decided. Better to give some minutes to the others and save the key players for battles yet to come."

These changes, though unlikely to alter the outcome of the match, were practical decisions that reflected a longer-term thinking, aimed at preserving player fitness and morale as the season continued. Amelia, though disheartened by the night's performance, appreciated the foresight in these decisions, recognising the importance of managing the team's resources in the face of adversity.

84’ YELLOW CARD! As the match continued to spiral out of control for the Toffees, their frustration became increasingly evident on the pitch. Minuette, in a moment of clear irritation, committed a foul by tripping Trenton from the Reds, an action borne out of frustration rather than tactical necessity. The referee promptly recorded her name in his book, marking another low point in a game that had already seen its fair share of disappointments for the home team.

Amelia, observing the scene, couldn't help but let out a chuckle despite the grim circumstances. "That Minuette midfielder has lost her head." she commented, shaking her head slightly. "Tripping a player just to make herself feel good. Reminds me a bit of Roy Keane in his heyday. Always ready to throw in a tackle when he got heated. Sometimes, you just get caught up in the moment." Amelia continued, her eyes tracking the players as they resumed play. "Not the best decision, sure, but it shows she's still fighting, still got that fire. Just needs to channel it better, that's all."

The incident with Minuette was a small reflection of the team's overall performance that night—intense yet unfocused, passionate but not always in control. It was clear that beyond this game, there would be much for the Toffees to work on, both in terms of strategy and managing their emotions on the field.

88’ SUBSCRIPTIONS! In the closing stages of the match, the Reds took further steps to solidify their commanding lead by introducing fresh legs into their lineup. Pharaoh, having delivered an outstanding performance with two assists, was given a well-deserved rest. In his place, Flaco stepped onto the pitch, a defensive midfielder tasked with helping to maintain control and stifle any potential Toffees resurgence. This tactical shift from an attacker to a more defensive role clearly indicated the Reds' intent to lock down their lead and see out the game without incident.

Simultaneously, Macca, another key contributor who had set up Redsica’s opener, was also substituted. With only a couple of minutes left on the clock, Maestro was brought on, likely not just for tactical reasons but also to give him some game-time experience. Although this late in the game meant his impact could be limited, it was a strategic move to keep the team fresh and engaged.

Amelia watched these changes, recognising the tactical acumen behind the Reds' decisions. "They're shutting up shop now, bringing on Flaco to hold the midfield and keep things tight." she explained to herself. "It's smart, really. They've got the lead, and now they're making sure to protect it."

The atmosphere in the stadium, although subdued from the perspective of the Toffees' supporters, held a tone of resignation mixed with appreciation for the soccer lesson being administered by the Reds. Amelia added, "And Maestro coming on, even just for a bit, shows they're thinking ahead, keeping everyone involved and ready."

These strategic substitutions underscored the depth and tactical understanding of the Reds' coaching staff, ensuring that they remained in control until the final whistle. For Amelia and the other fans, it was a clear demonstration of the level of organisation and planning that the Toffees aspired to reach.

90+1’ REDSICA MAKES IT 4-0! As the game neared its conclusion, The Reds continued to apply relentless pressure, a strategy that had proved effective throughout the match. This time, their high press forced Big Mac to retreat deep into his own half, looking desperately for options. He passed the ball to Lyra, who, under intense scrutiny, lost possession to Meadow Song's inadvertent error, setting Redsica up for what seemed like a certain goal.

Redsica, seizing the moment, deftly navigated past Caramel and appeared to score easily, sliding the ball into the unguarded net. The Toffees' fans braced for the worst, but a sudden whistle from the referee paused all action—handball! The crowd erupted in a mix of confusion and delayed relief as the officials consulted the MVAR, which hinted at having spotted an infringement unseen by most onlookers.

Amelia, watching the unfolding drama, was visibly furious—not so much at the potential goal but at the familiar pattern of defensive lapses that had plagued her team all game. "Figures." she muttered, her expression darkening. "Saw that one coming a mile off. It's almost routine now." Her frustration was palpable, a reflection of a fan deeply invested yet deeply disappointed in her team's performance.

As the MVAR officials continued their review, Amelia and the surrounding crowd watched the large screen, holding their breath. The initial dread of witnessing another goal was temporarily alleviated by the potential reprieve offered by the handball call.

Finally, the referee made a gesture indicating the goal was disallowed, confirming the handball violation. Amelia’s scowl softened slightly, replaced by a weary nod. "Bittersweet, indeed." she conceded to Fluttershy. "Stopped the goal, but it doesn't change much, does it? Just highlights the gaps we've got to fill."

90+2’ NO GOAL! As the replay clearly showed, the ball had inadvertently struck Redsica’s arm during her move around the goalkeeper, leading to the goal being disallowed. The decision, while technically correct according to the rules, did little to lift the spirits of the Toffees' supporters or their team, who were still facing a significant deficit.

Amelia, despite her frustration with the overall performance of her team, couldn't help but feel a pang of sympathy for Redsica. "She deserved that one." Amelia said, a hint of resignation in her voice. "Would've been a nice brace for her debut. She's been outstanding, hasn't she? Probably the best out there today."

The sentiment around the stands was mixed. Some fans grumbled about the call, others about the state of the match. "Might as well have let it stand, give her the moment." Amelia continued, her tone a mix of sarcasm and genuine admiration for the opposing player. "Mare of the match, for sure, if they've got that sort of thing in this league."

The ruling kept the scoreline at 3-0, a small consolation for the Toffees, who were clearly outplayed. For Amelia, the game was less about the score at this point and more about recognising the qualities her team lacked and needed to develop. "It's frustrating, really.” she added, watching the players regroup and prepare to resume play. "Shows just how much work we've got to do. But you've got to give credit where it's due, and Redsica really turned up today."

As play continued, Amelia remained engaged, her critical eye not just on her team but also appreciating the skill displayed by the Reds. It was a tough lesson for the Toffees, but one that Amelia knew was necessary for the team's growth and evolution.

90+5’ FULLTIME! The Toffees had never won a home game and had collected just four points from their last 11 Premier League meetings with The Reds FC, and the misery continues as the 3-0 lose give the Reds a comfortable seat at the top of the Equestrian League. Redsica opened the scoring after just five minutes when she turned in Macca’s cross, while a pair of second-half headers from Dyson and Vandrick - both from Pharaoh’s crosses - sealed the points and heaped pressure on Applejack. Now unbeaten in five, The Reds look to extend that streak when they host The Hatters next Sunday. Meanwhile, Toffees must quickly recover ahead of their must-win League clash with The Crows at Ponyville next week! That's all for today. Until next time, goodbye!

Chapter 5 - A Normal Morning turned Hectic.

Author's Note

In this chapter, I had a crazy idea and I want to know what you guys think when you eventually see it! You’ll know what I’m talking about when you see it! I don’t know if this has been done before but, I really want to try it out and see how it goes! And if it has been done before, please send me a link to the fic, I’d love to read it for myself! :pinkiehappy:

Chapter 5 - A Normal Morning turned Hectic.

Chapter 5

Ever since that loss a few nights ago, Amelia had to let off some steam by going for a run every morning as her ankle had fully recovered thankfully, just like she did back on her own planet. She would start off by jogging down the path to Ponyville, swing by the tree house, pass the bakery, through the market, over the bridge and stop at an open field on the outskirts of Ponyville. However, when she did her exercises, she noticed a few things about her new body. She was quicker on her feet, her senses heightened considerably and had better control of her balance, add that to the body she once had, and Amelia felt like she was at her peak fitness.

Thankfully as she jogged along the street, pacing herself with each step, she had the pleasure of listening to her music through her EarPods from her old world, her steps matching with the beat. That’s how she kept her tempo, the fast flow of her music making her speed past ponies. Amelia’s style of music was aggressive, the flow fast and the beat booming in her ears. Along with the beat, the lyrics kept her drive going. The lyrics being egotistical, demonic, motivational, violent and… *cough, cough* lewd, Amelia dreads the day Fluttershy would catch her listening to such music but, it’s the type of music that puts her in the zone to excise and to block everything else out around her, the music she would listen to before a game of football.

As Amelia was running by, she couldn’t help but notice that a certain mail-mare in her uniform was not looking where she was going as she was busy nosing at the letter she was holding. Her eyes were going googly once again, the blond-maned mare trying to focus on the address. Before Amelia could call out to the Toffee player, Derpy bumped into Mrs Cake who was holding a white box. The two mares fell to the floor, Mrs Cake dropping the box that had a birthday cake inside, ruining the base and mixture while the grey pegasus mare dropped all the mail. Amelia winced at the contact.
That’s not good…

Amelia paused her music and placed her EarPods in their case as she rushed over. "Derpy! Y'alright, love?" Amelia asked with concern, giving Derpy a helping hand up. Derpy rubbed the back of her head softly, looking up to see the sky-blue pegasus looking down at her with worry, Derpy smiled up at her cheerfully, her cheeks rose from embarrassment.

“Yep! I’ll be okay!” Derpy said, getting up on her feet.

“Oh no!” Said the cake baker, looking over the ruined cake splattered all over the floor. “Do I have enough to make another?”

“Oh, I’m so sorry, Mrs Cake. I didn’t mean to ruin your hard work.” Derpy quickly apologised, putting her two hands together as she was hoping for forgiveness. Seeing who wasted hours of her time, Mrs Cake glared and snarled, making Derpy’s ears flatten.

“Just watch where you are going!” The blue earth pony said with a side eye, picking up the remains of the cake and box before walking back to where she came from. Amelia narrowed her eyes.
That wasn't nice! I better sort her out now!

“Hey! She didn’t mean to bump into you, y’know!” Amelia barked, her arms wide in protest.

“No, it’s okay. I should have watched where I was going.” Derpy said, placing a hand on Amelia’s shoulder. Amelia turned around to ask why but, she saw that all the mail that Derpy had was flying away. Amelia gasped.

“Derpy! Your mail!” Amelia exclaimed, pointing at all the travelling letters. It took a few seconds to pick up the surrounding letters that the wind didn’t catch, and a few minutes to get the ones that had flown away, but when it came to catching the last one, the letter decided that it didn’t want to get caught.

“There! The last one!” Derpy pointed, watching as the letter flopped away.

"Well, come on then, let's get it!” Amelia charged away, leaving Derpy in the dust as she trailed behind. Amelia thought she had caught it when the letter flapped onto the ground, lunging forward into a dive to land on top of it, but in the last second, the wind grabbed it away in a different direction, making Amelia face-plant into the dirt and for Derpy to overtake the downed pegasus.

Derpy scrambled for the letter, coming close each time but, the wind dribbled the letter left and right each time, skipping passed random ponies, going in between the legs, around the ponies and even over their heads! It was like watching an invisible Messi dribble in a crowded area with the letter! It was impossible to get!

When the letter flew to an isolated area of the street, looking to land gracefully, Derpy knew for sure that she would get the runaway mail finally. However, a wagon came out of nowhere and nearly hit Derpy directly until it screeched to a stop, inches away from her, making Derpy freeze up and for her heart to stop completely. Derpy didn’t freeze for long however as she saw the wind carry the letter off once again, she started to run after it.

“Hey! Watch it!” The fella riding the wagon called out, raising his fist.

“Sorry!” Derpy called back, looking over her shoulder. That’s when Derpy — yet again — ran into something as it dripped all down her uniform, she had to pause and look down for a second, seeing her uniform drenched in water, a cup by her feet. She looked back and saw that she had knocked a cup of water out of somepony’s hand.

“Hey!”

“Sorry!” Derpy said once again, deciding to chase the letter was more important. Derpy continued to chase the letter, using her wings to go a little bit faster. When the wind decided to turn the corner, Derpy followed without hesitation. When Derpy turned the corner, she nearly got tangled with a group of dogs on leeches, being walked by Fluttershy who had a shocked look on her face.

“Oh my.” Fluttershy said softly.

“Sorry!” Derpy said, running passed the shocked pegasus. However, the running grey mare was enough to excite the dogs on leashes as they tugged on the leashes, trying to chase the grey pegasus.

“Wait, stop it, guys! We are supposed—“

Fluttershy couldn’t finish her sentence as with one synchronised pull, Fluttershy lost her grip on the handle on the lead, making all the dogs bark and scamper after the running Derpy

“Stop! Bad boys! BAD BOYS!” Fluttershy shouted, running after the dogs she was supposed to walk. Amelia turned the corner just before seeing the chase of a lifetime, her face dirtied by the soil her face met a few seconds ago.

“Bleedin’ ‘ell, all this fuss ova one bleedin' lettah?" Amelia huffed, her cardio reaching her limit as she was on a run before this incident. Nevertheless, she pushed on and continued to race after the letter. She caught up to Fluttershy in a jiffy, Fluttershy huffing and puffing for air heavily. “Hi, Fluttershy! Bye, Fluttershy!” Amelia said, showing her pace to the yellow pegasus.

“Wait! Stop the dogs!” Fluttershy called out, already spent from the 200-meter sprint. Amelia looked over her shoulder, seeing that Fluttershy had stopped, her hands on her knees. Amelia's world started to slow, everything going in slow motion.

I could try and stop the dogs for Fluttershy considering she couldn’t catch up! Plus, I can’t leave Fluttershy to chase the dogs on her own, she couldn’t last that long. Surely Derpy could catch the last letter… Right?

But…

The dogs are chasing Derpy. If I help Derpy catch the letter, the dogs will stop too. That being said, I don’t know how long I can last with most of my energy spent. Could I catch the letter before my stamina depletes?

You choose!

Stop the dogs. None-cannon.

Or…

Stop the letter. Cannon.

—————————————————

Something has gone wrong. We don't seem to have an archived copy of that chapter.

—————————————————

Stop the letter!

Sorry, Fluttershy. I’ll try and end this shenanigans as fast as I can.

Amelia turned on the turbo boosts as she increased in pace, her head down, blood pumping around her body more. She zoomed passed ponies, and passed buildings with intense speed, eventually overtaking the dogs that took out ponies left, right and centre with their rampaging run, going that extra bit faster to not get swiped by the ankles.

Amelia didn’t realise how far Derpy was from her, the distance being quite the gap. She breathed heavily, sweat forming but she kept running, determined to catch that damn letter. Seriously, how hard is it to get one letter!? ONE!!! Email is a thing. WHY ISN’T ANYONE USING EMAIL OR WHATSAPP!!! EVEN SNAPCHAT FOR THE GEN-Z KIDS!!! BLOODY MILLENNIALS!!!

Eventually, Amelia started to catch up to Derpy, her lungs on fire and throat dry but yet, she kept running. Amelia saw Derpy was worse than herself, sweating buckets as she looked to be at her limit. When Derpy was within reaching distance, Amelia could hear how out of breath she was, her run appearing more sluggish and frantic, desperately trying to catch the letter.

No matter how her body screamed at her to stop, her core in a knot, to take a breather, she kept running for that God-forsaken letter, even to the point of coming side by side with Derpy. When Amelia looked over, Amelia was surprised to see Derpy thwarted, determined and pissed off like a seagull just nicked one of her chips. Amelia’s and Derpy’s eyes met momentarily, a mutual understanding between them as Amelia eventually overtook Derpy and just like that, Derpy’s running came to a halt, her body spent.

Now it was just her and the letter, the race of the century, the showdown between the wind and a pegasus, a fight that will be told for generations to come. That’s what it felt like when all eyes were on Amelia, the Ponyville’s citizens watching as Amelia sprinted along the street, confused by the chaotic scene of a letter being carried by the furious wind and the pursuer being right on its tail.

In other words — a casual Thursday…

Sitting on a bench outside a café, a coffee in their hands sat a cream-coloured earth pony and a lime green unicorn, sitting silently together as they just enjoyed each other’s company… well… that was until the green one started to talk.

“So… humans, ay?”

“Don’t you dare start.” The cream-coloured pony quickly said, her mane being split in half in a pink and blue colour. This pony being Bon Bon, the defender for the Toffees.

“Come on, Bon Bon! Don’t you find humans to be the slightest bit interesting? They are the race that introduced hoofball to us, you know.” The green unicorn said, taking a sip of her hot coffee. This is Lyra, Bon Bon’s partner in the defensive line for the Toffees.

“That’s just a myth, Lyra. Just a made-up story we were told when we were fillies, that’s all it is.” Bon Bon said harshly, making Lyra narrow her brows.

“Sheesh, you woke up on the wrong side of the bed.” Lyra puffed her cheeks out, looking frustratingly at Bon Bon who responded with a roll of her eyes. That tension didn’t last as long however as the calm morning they were having was rudely interrupted by the feel of a gust of wind and the sound of a filly going ape-shit for the letter.

“GET BACK HERE!!!”

The two watch with a blank face, watching as their faces go from left to right slowly, seeing a blue pegasus sprint after a gracefully flying letter, a frustrated look on her face. As soon as the pegasus left their view, they both took a sip of their coffee, listening to the filly that cursed the letter like a drunken sailstallion. When her voice faded away, that’s when Lyra spoke up with a nonchalant tone.

“So… Mrs Cake is pregnant again…”

Amelia had come close a few times to the scurrying letter, her fingertips touching it a few times before the teasing wind intensified after coming close. From a left turn to a right turn, to a left, left, left, left, left, left, left, left, left, right, left turn, going in circles around the Ponyville’s library, confusing the Liberian that was at her desk, seeing Amelia dash by every few seconds.

Amelia came the closest when she outstretched for it, diving for it in a desperate attempt to end this madness once and for all but, that wasn’t the case at all as right before she went to grab it, it escaped through one of the windows of a house, a baked pie resting on the window-sill to let it cool. Amelia felt how cool the pie was when she got a face full of it, her face purple with berries. Amelia growled as she jumped through the window, sliding off the kitchen counter, frustration reaching her tone.

"All this... FOR ONE BLOODY LETTER!!!!!!" Amelia screamed through the house, seeing the letter slip through a crack of a door. With steam tooting out of her ears, Amelia marched over to the door and swung the door wide open, knowing there was no place to hide in this house. In front of her however was a family of 4 looking back at the pie-faced pegasus, a look of murder on her face. “Where is it!” Amelia hissed, breathing heavily like a lunatic. The two adults and two kids pointed up the stairs, a shocked and fearful expression on their faces. They didn’t know what the mad filly was doing in their house. Amelia looked up the stairs and sure enough, there was the letter heading up the stairs casually. Amelia gritted her teeth, her boiling point reaching her limit.

"Get 'ere NOW, LA!"

Amelia charged for the stairs, stomping up the stairs quickly, the family worried that the steps would break with each step, that’s how furious the maniac in the house was.
Hold on… THEIR’S NO WIND IN THIS BLEEDIN’ HOUSE!

Reaching the top of the stairs, Amelia just about saw the letter slip under the door at the far end of the hallway.
Who does this letter think he bloody is!?

Amelia had her hands in a fist, clouded by anger and hatred, so clouded that she didn’t notice the sound of water hitting a bathtub and smoke crawling out beneath the door, so clouded that she kicked the door open, expecting to see the letter flying around, looking for a way to escape once again. Although that’s exactly what she saw, it wasn’t the only thing she saw in the foggy bathroom. Amelia’s eyes shot wide, her face going red under the splatter of pie on her face.

“AY! WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU!? HOW THE FUCK DID YOU GET IN HERE!! FUCK OFF!!! FUCK OFF NOW!!!” Said the mare in the shower, her fur the colour blue with her hair being a deep purple and light grey, her eyes being purple too. It was Minuette! The midfielder for The Toffees!
What are the odds?…

“SORRY!!!!” Amelia exclaimed; her eyes closed as she slammed the door shut. It was to her horror that she heard wet slaps against wood behind the door, rapidly getting louder. Amelia ran for the stairs, not daring to look back as she heard the bathroom door slam open.

“GET BACK HERE YOU MOTHERFUCKER!!!”

Never has Amelia run down the stairs so fast in her life and straight out the front door, closing the door behind her. Amelia didn’t have a clue whether Minuette was still on her tail or not, she didn’t care however as she just kept running in fear of being caught. Is this what the letter was feeling this whole time?

Amelia didn’t know why but, she felt someone was chasing her. Gathering her nerves however, she took a look from over her shoulder, and she could only deadpan as the thing that was chasing her was the bloody letter itself. As soon as Amelia stopped, the letter made a complete U-turn.
Cheeky fucker…

However, before the letter could skedaddle away, Amelia halted her charge and was amazed as the letter stopped in mid-air, the wind blowing away furiously but, despite its attempts to fly away, it couldn’t get away from the hand that pinched it tightly, a particular coloured orange-furred hand that Amelia recognised, a dusk orange colour that Amelia has only seen on one pony before in her short time of being a pony. Amelia looked up from the hand that grasped the letter, coming face to face with a purple-eyed pegasus glaring down at her, her muzzle frowning into a sneer.
Oh yeah, I remember now… this is the generational talent, The Toffee’s Assassin, the number 45!

It goes without saying that Amelia was a straightforward person and was easily triggered if the wrong buttons were pushed. That was shown evident by the letter taking her on one hell of a rollercoaster ride, but now that the letter was caught, a sigh of relief left Amelia’s lips. However, Amelia didn’t like how the pegasus in front of her was looking down on her, a look in her eyes that oozed arrogance as she held the letter at her side. Amelia knew that glare well; it was a challenging glare—the bad kind of glare.

Despite the clear dislike towards her, however, Amelia put on a smile and stood straight. “Hey, thanks for catching the letter. It sure did give me the run around.” Amelia said with a smile, rubbing the back of her head softly. The purple-haired pegasus didn’t seem like she was going to answer, so she took her silence to keep talking. “You know, I recognize you from somewhere. That orange fur you have, I only know one pegasus that has that shade of color, and that pegasus is Scootaloo. Am I wrong?”

The pegasus didn’t flinch or blink at being called out, unbothered by being recognized. Her eyes just roamed over Amelia’s body, scrutinizing her legs, her body structure, and her muscle development. It was like Scootaloo was analyzing a piece of art. It stayed like that for a few seconds, Amelia just standing there, feeling awkward as she smiled.
What’s wrong with this bird?

“Left wing.” Scootaloo said suddenly, making Amelia perk up.

“Huh?” Amelia said with confusion, tilting her head slightly.
Wait… Is she talking about a left-sided winger?

“If you played hoofball, you’d play as a left winger.” Scootaloo said simply, making it hard for Amelia to keep her smile up.
Is this how she greets people? Telling them where they would play? Strange…

“Okay, firstly, that’s wrong, and secondly, no… do I need to bring up a third reason?” Amelia said with a bit of salt, trying to keep her smile up, but it won’t be easy trying to keep a friendly smile up for much longer with this pegasus.
What’s her problem?

“You’re a pegasus, your natural strength is speed and agility, just like me.” Scootaloo muttered, making Amelia narrow her eyes. “But unlike me, you don’t have that burst of speed to play in the attacking role, but you do have an engine to play in the midfield. That’s common knowledge.”

Amelia now understood where Scootaloo was coming from, what Scootaloo was trying to say. Earth Ponies, Pegasus, Unicorns—what do they all have in common? Magic, but that’s about it. Unicorns are the masters of spells; Pegasus are the masters of flight, and Earthlings are the masters of their own strength, giving Equestria a diverse set of ponies, ponies that have different roles in life.

That’s no different in “Hoofball” terms.

Thanks to ponies' individually different gifts, different roles suited different ponies, giving an unfair dynamic to the game of hoofball, but that’s just how it is and how it has been for centuries.

Earth ponies are known for their strength and height, finding them more useful in defense than anywhere else on the pitch. However, on the rare occasion, an earth pony may be used as a holding midfielder (like Big Mac) or a goalkeeper (like Caramel), maybe even a striker for the aerial threat in the air. Ultimately, earth ponies will be known for their defense.

Unicorns have it the hardest in Hoofball with the rule of having absolutely zero magic involved to influence the ball or others. If found guilty of breaking this rule, the player or manager would be handed an immediate red card, a 5-game suspension, and a hefty fine of 1,000 bits, making them a liability to the team and themselves. But that doesn’t take away what they can do on the pitch. As much as they don’t have speed or strength to their advantage, they make up for that in passing, control, and skill, making them perfect in the midfield or even on the wings of the pitch. Anywhere else, however, they would have a hard time unless there was a strategy in place.

Pegasus, however, are the bread and butter of the game. Of course, just like the unicorns and their magic, pegasus are restricted from using their wings in any way, shape, or form, rendering their wings useless in hoofball. If used in any way, the player will be handed an immediate red card, a 5-match suspension, and a 1,000 bit fine. Using magic and wings in hoofball has a zero-tolerance policy.
Out of the Earth Ponies and Unicorns, Pegasus were the ones that every team wanted thanks to their speed and dribbling, making them a constant threat to the goal and defense. They are the strikers, the wingers, the center forwards and central attacking midfielders, the goal scorers of the game.

Amelia couldn't help but understand how Scootaloo mistakenly assumed she was a left winger. But she had to ask, "Why do you think I'm a left winger? I could have easily been a right winger."

Scootaloo simply replied, "I noticed that you push off your left foot when you run." Amelia raised an eyebrow, impressed by Scootaloo's observation. Touché...

"Well, mate, you've got it all wrong. I'm not a winger at all. In fact, I'm the best goalkeeper around," Amelia boasted, crossing her arms and wearing a smug smirk. Scootaloo finally showed a hint of emotion, raising an eyebrow and clearly unimpressed by Amelia's claim. But then, out of nowhere, Scootaloo burst into laughter, a laughter so contagious that it made Amelia take a step back in shock. Where did that come from?

Amelia raised an eyebrow and crossed her arms, asking with a cheeky grin, "What's so funny?"

Scootaloo continued to mock, "A goalkeeper... a pegasus... did you fall on your head when you were younger?" Amelia narrowed her eyes dangerously in response.

"What did you just say?" Amelia growled, her temper flaring as her hands clenched into fists.

"Didn't you hear me? Are you brain-dead? A pegasus can't possibly be a goalkeeper! It's been like that forever! Besides, you're smaller than me. What are you going to do in goal with your small arms and legs?" Scootaloo pushed on with her mockery, sporting a sly grin that made Amelia grit her teeth.

"Take that back!" Amelia stepped forward, getting dangerously close to Scootaloo. But Scootaloo remained unfazed.

"Or what? Are you going to do something, birdbrain?" Scootaloo taunted, pressing her head against Amelia's. Both of them locked eyes in a fierce glare.

"I hope you like hospital food!"

In a split second, both Amelia's and Scootaloo's left hands reached out for each other's collars and with their other hands, pulling back their fists to strike and before they could pull the trigger on the punch, a roar rang out.

"Hold your horses there, gals!" a sudden voice rang out in an orderly tone, a tone that had a twang to the accent, almost like a cowboy from those movies. The two turned, only for Amelia's eyes to shoot wide open in astonishment. There she was in all her radiant glory, Applejack, the manager of the toffees, walking over with a cross look. "Scootaloo! What are you doing bothering the village folk, y'all?" Applejack said towards Scootaloo, begrudgingly making Scootaloo let go of Amelia and huff with annoyance.

"Nothing, I'm just telling this filly what is and what isn't in hoofball. She still doesn't understand," Scootaloo snarled, crossing her arms as she gave Amelia the side eye.

Amelia's eye twitched, the urge to show her what a goalkeeper's fist can really do. "Cheeky sod…" Amelia mumbled, crossing her arms too as she glared at Scootaloo.

"Amelia! I hope you're not getting yourself into trouble!" a familiar voice spoke up behind Applejack, this time being the pleasant sight of Fluttershy, the mutts she had on a leash seeming calmer than before. She stood next to Applejack, who tilted her Stetson forward, to which Fluttershy replied with a warm smile. Amelia needed to reboot her brain and replace a fuse in the fuse box to process what was going on right before her eyes. Applejack is talking to Fluttershy, and Fluttershy is talking back like friends!? What is going on right now? Why didn't Fluttershy tell me that she was friends with the town's football manager!?

It almost took away from the fact that she was being told off.

"She started it! All I wanted was to get that stupid letter for Derpy!" Amelia exclaimed, pointing a finger at Scootaloo with the letter in her hand. Fluttershy didn't look amused, a brow rising slightly. Fluttershy sighed, looking towards Scootaloo and lowering her head down.

"I'm sorry, Scootaloo. Forgive Amelia if she gave you any trouble," Fluttershy said sincerely, making Amelia widen her eyes in shock.

“What… Don’t apologize to her! She’s unbearable-”

“Amelia! Apologise” Fluttershy interrupted, raising her voice for the first time since living with Fluttershy, shocking Amelia more than it should have. She didn’t think Fluttershy had it in her. But that shock quickly turned into anger, and Amelia clenched her teeth in frustration. Fluttershy’s head shouldn’t be so low, she shouldn’t have to apologize on her behalf, she shouldn’t have to apologize at all! Not to someone as stuck up as Scootaloo! Amelia had tried to be nice, but Scootaloo spat in her face in return. This was wrong, dead wrong.

“No! I don’t have to apologize to her!” Amelia said in outrage, making Fluttershy’s head rise in shock. Amelia then turned to Scootaloo, who wore a cocky smirk. “And you! I don’t want you to tell me what I can and can’t be again. I’m a goalkeeper, and a damn good one at that. I can prove it!” Amelia’s head snapped to Applejack, a determined look on her face. “Applejack! If you’ll have me, let me prove in the Toffee’s training tonight that despite who I am, I can play in goal!”

“Get real, squirt. You’ll only be wasting our time. We don’t need to give you any more attention than you already have.” Scootaloo brushed off, sniggering to herself.

Fluttershy was stunned and frozen, a look of awe on her face. She didn’t know whether to be worried or amazed by Amelia’s determined boldness. She didn’t know what was said, but it really did start a fire in Amelia’s eyes. An emerald flame burning brightly.

Applejack, on the other hand, said nothing and didn’t even look amused by Amelia’s claim to be a goalkeeper. Amelia couldn’t tell if she was lost in thought or debating whether to acknowledge the idea of having a Pegasus playing in goal at her training quarters. Now that Amelia thought about it, she had no right to ask Applejack, the manager of a professional football club, to prove herself. That’s not how it worked, certainly not where she was from as a human. If it was as simple as asking for a chance, there would be a mile-long line, and Applejack would be harassed endlessly. That wouldn’t be fair. So… why hadn’t Applejack turned her down yet?

“Applejack… don’t tell me you’re actually thinking about it.” Scootaloo said skeptically, narrowing her brows. Applejack had one hand over her mouth while the other crossed her chest, leaning to one side in thought.

“As odd as it may sound, Scoots, this filly has caught my attention. I’ve never heard of a Pegasus in goal in my lifetime… it makes me think… hey! How long have you played in goal?” Applejack suddenly asked, making Amelia perk up.

“Oh, as long as I can remember. Since I was five, maybe…” Amelia muttered, scratching her cheek with a finger. She watched as Applejack assessed her, capturing every minor detail, from her height to her width, from her structure to her features, eyes, and hands. Applejack considered her. Her eyes widened a little when they landed on Amelia’s hands, and she stepped forward to get a better look.

“Show me your hands!” Applejack requested, kneeling down to Amelia’s height, confusing Amelia greatly.

“Uh, alright…” Amelia said unsurely, showing Applejack the palm of her hands. Applejack took Amelia’s hand into hers, feeling the palm, and what she felt and saw made her eyes widen fully, her mouth slightly open. She had seen hands like these before.

“I want to see what you’ve got, Amelia.” Applejack said, standing back up. “Tonight, 8 o’clock, at the Toffee’s training ground. Don’t be late.”

“What!? AJ! You can’t be serious! She just can’t-”

“You got it! You won’t regret this!” Amelia said with a beaming smile. “Thank you so much!” Those were the last words Amelia said before running off home to get her things ready for tonight.

Fluttershy was speechless and confused. She knew for a fact that the only way to train with the senior players was to climb up the ranks from the academy. Amelia was neither a listed player nor a graduate of the Academy. Unless… Applejack saw it.

“What were you thinking, Applejack? She’s just some random filly! Why does she get the chance to train with the first team!?” Scootaloo shouted, a mix of anger and confusion in her voice, her grip wrinkling the letter.

“That’s enough, Scootaloo. I’ll see you tonight.” Applejack said abruptly, making Scootaloo growl.

“But Applejack!”

“I said that’s enough! This is none of your concern.” Applejack said more sternly, the rigor in her voice enough to make Scootaloo snarl and sulk.

“Whatever... Here, this letter is for you. That birdbrain was chasing it for whatever reason.” Scootaloo muttered, turning away with her hands in her pockets. She walked off without another word, though Applejack could hear her muttering to herself. Applejack frowned, seeing that young Scootaloo's attitude hadn't changed much since her debut match. She had hoped that it would mature her, to wipe that negative competitive side from her mindset. But now it seemed to be a mistake; it only made her worse.

"Applejack... You didn't have too, y’know.” Fluttershy spoke up, her voice tinged with a mix of anxiety. She stood beside Applejack, her gaze fixed on her friend. Applejack turned to face her, a knowing grin spreading across her face.

"Don't you go tellin' me you ain't noticed what she's got in her hands. It only took me a few ticks to see it. Surely, y'all saw it too," Applejack exclaimed, her excitement palpable. Fluttershy, however, looked ahead, her expression guarded, as if trying to hide her thoughts. But Applejack saw right through her, as if peering through a fragile glass. The tension between them grew, hanging in the air like an unspoken secret. "You've seen it... Do you understand what that means, Fluttershy?"

Fluttershy's frown deepened, her head lowering further, as if burdened by the weight of her knowledge. A heavy sigh escaped her lips, filled with a mixture of sadness and apprehension. Her voice, barely above a whisper, carried a sense of urgency. "I have seen it... And I do understand what it means," she admitted, her words laced with unspoken fear. "I noticed it the moment I met her. I've always wondered how somepony like her ended up with those hands. The worst part is, I don't even think she realizes how special they truly are. She goes about her days without a clue."

"I don't rightly understand, Fluttershy. This here's a good thing! As peculiar as it may sound, she's got a heap of potential to be the best darn goalkeeper of her whole dang generation! So why in tarnation do ya sound... sad?" Applejack said with a frown dawning on her features, genuine bafflement written all over her face. “Don’t you want her to see her grow up to be an amazing goalkeeper?”

Silence hung in the air for a moment, the tension so thick between them that the background voices and sounds seemed to be blocked out. Applejack narrowed her eyes, wondering why this conversation had suddenly become heated. Why was Fluttershy upset? Wait... was it because of that incident?

“Fluttershy... don’t tell me it’s because of what happened to you.”

Fluttershy didn’t reply, nor did she look like she was going to reply, with her distant look and disdainful frown.

“You can’t keep letting that one bad experience define what hoofball is.”

“Amelia talked me into going to the match on Sunday, you know. She loves hoofball, and I can’t protect her from a sport that she has so much passion for. I can only hope for nothing but the best for her now.” Fluttershy shook her head slightly, a gloomy look on her face.

“What are ya trying to say Flutters?... Don't you want her to play hoofball or something?”

“I guess what I'm trying to say is, those hands are not a gift, but a curse on Amelia’s life.”

Chapter 6.

PS: Hope you liked my little experiment to let you choose the outcome of the chapter despite leading to the same thing. Let me know if I should do more of that!

Chapter 6 - Not the Bests of starts.

Author's Note

I'll add the second half of the chapter to this chapter soon enough, just wanna post something to show you all that I'm not dead!

Chapter 6 - Not the Bests of starts.

Cheap Thrills by Sia was what Amelia listened to out loud in her room, the funky and upbeat music travelling around her body like a fever gone wild. Amelia would have put something more vulgar on, but with her guardian a floor away from hearing it, she just chose something tame yet exhilarating.

It was 6:00 PM, and Amelia couldn't wait another second to get started with training. It had been a while since Amelia felt a warm fire in her stomach, growing into an inferno of excitement, her blood sizzling. It was like that time she had tryouts for Everton... no, it was exactly like the first time she had tryouts for Everton. But this time, it was for the Toffees, an alternate version of Everton. Amelia was practically getting a second chance!

The first day of training at Everton's facility was brilliant! Amelia was the only goalkeeper scouted from an amateur team, and it wasn't hard for her to catch the eyes of the goalkeeper coaches. It only got easier when they saw her skills, seeing her as a project for the future of the women's team. They taught Amelia things she didn't know she needed to know, shaping her body to be fit for a goalkeeper and fuelling her passion for the sport like never before. She knew this was the first step towards her dream, a big step towards her life as a professional footballer.

Now things were different. She was better than she was back then, and she knew what it took to stand out from the rest. Amelia understood what it meant to be a goalkeeper. She hadn't seen much of the Toffee's first-team keeper, undoubtedly good enough to play professional football, but Amelia cheekily wondered if she was better than him. Maybe, maybe not, but it was an amusing thought. No doubt she would be an academy player for the under 16s or higher, and that's when she planned to show her talent and understanding of the game. But tonight, she would prove that she was worth having. She knew she could do it. All she needed to do was serve some scouse in a bowl.

Amelia stopped what she was doing and felt the hand that Applejack had grabbed. She found it strange and wondered what the meaning behind it was. The sudden invitation from Applejack seemed too quick and Amelia couldn't help but question the connection between her hand and Applejack's decision. To Amelia, her hand was just a hand - a limb she used frequently, especially for playing football. It had been through some injuries in the past, like when she dislocated one of her fingers while trying to save a ball. Although her finger never fully recovered, it didn't affect her desire to continue playing football. Despite this, Amelia couldn't help but wonder how her hand influenced Applejack's decision.

Amelia shrugged. "Dun't matter now. I've got the chance, that's all that matters!" Amelia beamed, rushing to her bed where her duffle bag from the other world sat. Next to the bag was her companion, Pooch. Amelia couldn't help but ruffle his head. "How are we, Poochie?" Amelia asked, making Pooch bark once. "Good lad!"

In that duffle bag, she had the standard stuff a keeper should own, and a bit extra. The Everton jersey she wore when she first came into this world was folded and clean for tonight, along with her shorts and football socks. Her worn-out boots and gloves lay next to each other in the bag, along with shin pads and a water bottle in the outer pocket. Those were the fundamental things to have at least. She also had tape for her socks and fingers, a rolled-up glove towel, deodorant just in case, spare hair ties just in case, and she even threw in an apple just in case she got hungry. She didn't have everything with her, but it would do. She picked up her phone from the windowsill and pressed pause on her music, shoving it in her right jeans pocket. It had 92% battery left. In her left pocket were her AirPods.

She was ready to go! Yet... she had two hours until it actually started, so for the third time, she put her bag back on the bed next to Pooch, whose tail was wagging. He had watched Amelia pick up and drop the bag three times, yet the pup panted softly and sat waiting. He was a happy little chap regardless of Amelia's antics.

What was she doing pacing around the room like this? She needed a quick drink if anything. She wasn't just full of pent-up energy, but also nervousness. Amelia whistled for Pooch to come, opening the door to her room as she walked down the stairs. Pooch overtook Amelia with his little legs.

As Amelia descended the stairs, she was greeted by a vibrant menagerie of critters, a true zootopia. Birds flitted through the air, their melodic chirps filling the cottage. Squirrels and other small creatures scurried about, their playful antics turning the furniture into a playground. But amidst the chaos, Pooch stood out, relentlessly chasing a pesky white rabbit with unwavering determination.

Amelia scanned the living room, her eyes searching for Fluttershy, but she wasn't surprised to find her absent. Fluttershy was always busy tending to various tasks around the cottage. Whether it was tending to the chickens, nurturing the blooming flowers in the backyard, cooking in the kitchen, or caring for her beloved animal companions, Fluttershy seldom found time to relax. Only when nature called or the day's end drew near did she pause her ceaseless activities.

"Fluttershy! Where are ya?" Amelia called out, expecting no immediate response. Fluttershy's preoccupation often rendered her oblivious to the outside world. Amelia ventured into the kitchen, where signs of Fluttershy's presence lingered. The dishes were immaculately clean, cutlery and plates neatly arranged, and the floor glistened from a recent mopping. Perched on a plate was a sandwich, accompanied by a note that piqued Amelia's curiosity.

Stepping into the backyard, Amelia found it devoid of Fluttershy's presence as well. However, the evidence of her handiwork was impossible to miss. The grass had been meticulously trimmed, and fresh soil had been laid, breathing new life into the earth. Fluttershy had already begun planting a variety of crops and flowers, and despite being in its early stages, the garden exuded an undeniable beauty. The shed, adorned with intertwining flower stalks as Fluttershy had intended, stood majestically in one corner. Roses, daisies, poppies, and peonies bloomed side by side, creating a captivating tapestry of colours and scents. Pebble stones lined the garden's borders, lending an enchanting touch. The air buzzed with the presence of butterflies fluttering from one bloom to another, much like industrious bees collecting pollen. In the opposite corner, a hive hung from a tree branch, adding to the garden's magical allure. Miniature pony-shaped gnomes dotted the landscape, and one of them uncannily resembled the manager of the Reds. Though still a work in progress, Amelia couldn't help but imagine the breathtaking spectacle the garden would become once Fluttershy's vision was fully realised.

Other than upstairs, where Amelia knew she wouldn't find Fluttershy, she had no idea where she might be. There was a note in the kitchen, which must have been from Fluttershy. Amelia decided to have a read while she enjoyed her cheese and hay sandwich. Yes, hay. I know, I never thought I'd try it, but here we are.

I sat down at the table, my sliced sandwich in one hand while I read the note with the other. It read: "I won't be back before you leave. Good luck and be careful, Amelia."

"Eh, that's sound of her, that is." Amelia said to herself, talking with her mouth full. "But I don't need luck. They just need to prepare themselves." Amelia grinned as she placed the note down.

It wasn't long now until she showed the world what she had up her sleeve.

Amelia's anticipation grew with each passing minute as she made her way towards the training ground. It was an unusual location, nestled within a picturesque apple orchard. The floodlights illuminated the path, guiding her towards the destination. She glanced up at the night sky, relieved to find it clear and calm. The absence of wind or rain was a goalkeeper's dream, perfect conditions for training or a match. Bringing her focus back down to earth, she marveled at the apple trees that surrounded her. These trees were renowned throughout Ponyville for producing the most delectable and nutritious apples, a fact Amelia knew from personal experience.

Excitement mingled with nervousness, creating a whirlwind of emotions within the 15-year-old pegasus. Her steps towards the training ground were both exhilarating and anxiety-inducing, causing her knees to tremble and her stomach to tighten. It was astonishing how much intensity and energy could be contained within someone so young.

Perhaps it was magic.

As Amelia drew closer, the sight of the goalposts under the bright lights filled her with a surge of joy. The net was neatly set up, ready to receive shots. There were full-sized 11-a-side goals at each end of the pitch, as well as smaller 5-a-side goals positioned along the sides. The grass appeared unusually vibrant, almost too perfect. It could have been a trick of the light or the fact that it was artificial turf. Amelia let out a resigned sigh, knowing that while astroturf had its advantages, diving onto it often resulted in painful burns. Nevertheless, she was determined to endure the discomfort in pursuit of her passion.

A smile tugged at her lips as she stood behind the wooden fence that encircled the training ground. She noticed that she wasn't the first to arrive. Applejack, with her characteristic organisation and dedication, was busy setting up cones and preparing for footy drills and warm-ups. The fact that Applejack had taken the initiative to do this in her free time showcased her commitment to the team. Amelia couldn't help but admire her as she eagerly awaited the start of the training session.

Amelia stepped onto the pitch, walking towards Applejack as she focused on placing the coloured cones. Her 15-year-old mind wanted to run up and scare her, but she quickly shut down that thought. She didn't want her first impression to be childish in front of the Toffees' manager. Instead, she would be more mature. That meant not being weird, not being childish, and not being easily annoyed by a certain purple-haired pegasus.

Come on, Amelia! You got this!

"Applejack! Hey!" Amelia called out, raising her hand in greeting. Applejack turned just in time to see Amelia's hand raised in a wave before falling to her side. Applejack smiled, placing a hand on her hip.

"Howdy, y'all. You're mighty early, aren't ya?" Applejack pointed out, a one-sided grin and a raised brow on her face.

"Yeah, I couldn't wait any longer, like. I had to be the first per—pony here, you know." Amelia shrugged, looking all around her, envisioning herself training there more often than not. It wasn't the best training ground, small and without a gym or facilities, just the pitch. But Amelia didn't mind. A stage was all she needed.

"Well, well, now ain't that a mighty fine response! I sure do fancy a good dose of enthusiasm during these trainin' sessions. But reckon, considerin' it's your first meetin' with the squad, anypony in their right mind would be mighty eager to join in. So tell me, how you feelin'? A li'l nervous, perhaps?" Applejack asked, making Amelia rub the back of her head and smile.

"Yeah, somethinglike that. I feel ready but also a bit uneasy at the same time, you know. I'm usually not like this." Amelia responded, feeling like she was taken out of her comfort zone without a parent, guardian, or friend to watch over her. Training with strangers and having strangers watch her felt unforgiving. She became more timid and quiet, like a certain yellow pegasus.

"Don't fret none, darlin'! It's mighty natural to feel a tad nervous, but rest assured, me and the squad will lend ya a hand to get settled in. It's good to have you tonight." Applejack's warm voice reassured Amelia, but her apprehension remained. As Applejack extended her hand, a sense of unease washed over Amelia, making her palms clammy and her heart race. The weight of the world seemed to rest upon her shoulders, causing her forehead to glisten with a cold sweat. It was as though an invisible force emanated from Applejack's hand, enveloping Amelia in a mysterious aura.

A surge of questions flooded Amelia's mind, causing her breath to catch in her throat. What was this sudden breathlessness? Where did this inexplicable heaviness originate from? The overwhelming sensation that radiated from Applejack intensified her curiosity, leaving her desperate for answers.

And then, in a moment of revelation, Amelia's gaze fixated on a breathtaking sight. A vivid, raw green aura emerged from the depths of Applejack's being, rising upwards like ethereal tendrils that intertwined with the night sky. The emerald mist swirled and danced, casting an enchanting glow upon the surroundings. Its heat seeped through Amelia's fur, mingling with the beads of perspiration that formed on her brow. Uncertainty clouded her mind, unsure if the warmth was a result of the sultry air or her own nerves.

Yet, despite the mesmerising display, it was Applejack's penetrating stare that captivated Amelia. The friendly twinkle within those emerald eyes belied a hidden power, an indescribable force that seemed to emanate from the depths of her being. Amelia felt as though she stood before a titan, unable to break free from the magnetic pull of Applejack's gaze. It was an encounter that left her acutely aware of the immense power that lay dormant within those eyes, and she couldn't help but wonder what secrets they held.

Scary…

"Yoooo! Applejack!" a scratchy voice said from behind Amelia, an oddly calm voice that contradicted Amelia's stress levels. Finally, Applejack's eyes were torn away from Amelia as they looked over her, the luminous green aura fading.

"Well, well, reckon I didn't expect to lay eyes on ya 'round these parts so dang early." Applejack's voice rang out, accompanied by a mischievous smirk. Amelia's gaze shifted, and her eyes widened in surprise at the sight before her. She had already acquainted herself with Applejack, the team's leader, and Scootaloo, the spirited one. However, the addition of another player to the Toffee's roster felt surreal. This newcomer possessed a wild and unique appearance that immediately caught Amelia's attention.

Her hair, resembling a pixie cut on one side but adorned with spikes and an abundance of strands, exuded an untamed and vibrant energy. The pristine white of her fur was a sight to behold, surpassing any other pony Amelia had encountered thus far. It was a stark and striking contrast against the backdrop of the bustling environment. As for her eyes, they remained a mystery to Amelia, concealed behind a pair of purple shaded glasses that signified her identity as the Toffees' number 7.

Vinyl Scratch.

Clad in a simple yet effortlessly cool ensemble, Vinyl donned a blank crimson tank shirt, accentuated by a loosely hanging black jacket that seemed to defy gravity. A necklace in the shape of a musical note dangled gracefully outside of her shirt, adding a touch of whimsy to her appearance. Completing her attire were black tight sport shorts, effortlessly showcasing her athletic prowess. Wrapped around her neck, a pair of headphones emitted a faint sound, a mesmerising symphony of absolute madness that resonated with the beats of dubstep. It was an audial experience that captivated Amelia's senses, leaving her in awe.

With her hands casually tucked into her pockets, Vinyl strolled over, nonchalantly blowing a bubble that emerged from her mouth. The presence of chewies, a seemingly newfound accessory, piqued Amelia's curiosity. When did she start chewing gum? It was a small detail, yet it only added to the enigmatic aura that surrounded Vinyl Scratch, leaving Amelia eager to uncover more about this intriguing member of the team.

"Word around Ponyville is that you took in a young goalkeeper to train with us tonight. Sure, doesn't sound like much at first until I heard the goalkeeper was a pegasus. I just had to see what all the fuss was about, see if the rumours were true." Vinyl murmured, her hand gripping the bag strapped around her shoulder while the other was in her jacket pocket. Then she looked down at Amelia. "And I'm guessing this is her."

"Hey..." Amelia said lamely, looking up at the skilful winger in awe. Vinyl's cool grin widened, making Amelia smile somewhat.

"Hiya, sport. The name's Vinyl, nice to meet you. I'll look after you for tonight." Vinyl ruffled Amelia's mane, making the little pegasus brighten up a bit. At least she wasn't a jerk or scary. Instead, she was pretty cool! And those glasses... Amelia wanted a pair just like them, but in blue!

"You two go and get changed, warm up until the rest of the squad turns up. Only then will we get started with training. We have a lot to sort out and talk about for our next game against The Crows. That's a must-win game if we have a chance to stay away from relegation." Applejack ordered firmly, leaving no time for replies as she turned away to set up for drills once again.

"Come on, sport. I'll show you around." Vinyl said before walking off in a direction.

There was a small building at the far side of the pitch, made out of red-painted wooden planks and beams. It wasn't as big as the barn and house on top of a hill in the distance of the orchard, but it was a reasonable size for a small confined space.

"This must be the changin' room..."

"So, what's your name, kid?" Vinyl suddenly spoke, sparking up a conversation.

"Oh, me name's Amelia!"

"Amelia? Strange name... What does it mean?" Amelia looked up at Vinyl, tilting her head.

"Meanin’?"

"Yeah! You know... My name is Vinyl because I'm into music. Applejack is called Applejack because she's into... well, apples, I guess. Do you get what I'm trying to say?"

Amelia was stumped by the question, even more so now that Vinyl had given an example. She had never thought about it before. Her name was just what she was called. How was she supposed to know the meaning of Amelia? It was just a name. Maybe it was different here. With the example that Vinyl had given, Amelia assumed that a pony's name was connected to the things they liked or their hobbies, or maybe even a talent they had...

My head hurts… No more thinking.

"I dunno, never really thought about it, like..."

“Mmm, you’re a strange one alright, but that’s cool.”

I’ve just been called strange, how have I messed up already!? She probably thinks I’m lame now…

"Applejack is a cool gal, isn't she? A good manager but an even better player." Vinyl murmured, opening the door and walking into a bright hallway with doors on each side. Amelia followed.

"Player? I didn't know Applejack played foooooooooooooohoofball!" Amelia said quickly, nearly slipping up. Vinyl did notice the slip-up as she looked over her shoulder but never said anything about it.

"Yeah, a Toffee legend and one of the best players to play in the Equestrian League. You should watch some clips of her on YouTube, she was awesome! It's a shame she had to retire early."

"Retire—early?"

"Wait... you don't know? Have you been living under a rock for the past 5 years?" Vinyl raised a brow, stopping in a doorway which had the sign of the changing rooms. She looked befuddled. Then a grin appeared on her face. "You are not from around here, are you?" Vinyl nodded as if confirming a theory she had before walking in. Amelia followed, not sure what to think about that comment. Was that a good thing or not?

As Amelia entered the room, her eyes were immediately drawn to the walls adorned with an array of lockers, each one meticulously decorated to reflect the unique personalities of the players. The vibrant and diverse displays showcased a glimpse into the individuality that resided within the team. Below the lockers, benches provided a space for players to prepare for training, whether it be pulling up their socks, lacing up their boots, or simply catching their breath after a rigorous session. The hangers at the far end of the room held neatly arranged training kits, eagerly awaiting their wearers to claim them.

Yet, amidst the organised chaos, one hanger remained empty, noticeably absent from its designated spot. It didn't take long for Amelia's eyes to locate it. In the corner of the room, perched upon a bench, sat Scootaloo, already sporting her training kit. She focused intently on fastening her laces, a determined expression etched across her face. A sigh of resignation escaped Amelia's lips, knowing all too well the attitude that often accompanied Scootaloo's presence.

"Yoooo! What's happening, Scoots?" Vinyl's nonchalant tone reverberated through the room, accompanied by a laid-back smile that seemed to effortlessly charm those around her. Scootaloo glanced up momentarily, acknowledging Vinyl's greeting before swiftly returning her attention to the task at hand. Without uttering a word, she rose from the bench and strode past Vinyl, not hesitating to bump her shoulder against Amelia's as she made her exit. An exasperated huff escaped Amelia's lips, her gaze fixated on the back of Scootaloo's head, frustration evident in her glare. As Scootaloo disappeared down the hallway, the echoes of her boots clanking against the floor resonated in the air, leaving Amelia to ponder the mysteries that lay behind her enigmatic teammate.

"What's her problem, eh?" Amelia voiced her frustration, unable to comprehend Scootaloo's abrasive behaviour.

"Don't worry about her." Vinyl dismissed with a casual wave of her hand. "She doesn't exactly get along with many ponies in the squad. It took Applejack over a year to break through to her. So, I don't expect you two to hit it off right away." she explained, grabbing her training shirt from the end of the room. "Her ego is bigger than Ponyville itself, but hey, if that's what fuels her growth as a player, it's whatevs." Vinyl shrugged, taking a seat as she proceeded to remove her jacket.

Amelia's eyes widened in alarm as she realised that Vinyl was also about to take off her tank top. A sudden surge of embarrassment flooded her cheeks, causing her to quickly avert her gaze, turning right around to avoid any further awkwardness.

"She's a proper jerk. She laughed at me and said I couldn't be a goalie because I have wings, can ya believe it?" Amelia grumbled, crossing her arms tightly as frustration boiled within her.

"Well... it is quite unusual to have a Pegasus in goal, but hey, to each their own." Vinyl responded, nonchalantly. "Come on, go get changed. Why do you have your back to me? Wait... are you embarrassed?" Vinyl's playful tone called Amelia's attention, causing her to stiffen in surprise at being called out.

"I'm not!" Amelia retorted a little too quickly and loudly, her words laced with defensiveness.

"Oh my Celestia, you totally are!" Vinyl burst into laughter, unable to contain her amusement. The sound of her laughter only served to intensify Amelia's embarrassment, causing her to clench her teeth in a mix of humiliation and anger.

"I am—oh, fuckin’ ‘ell!" Amelia whirled around in frustration, only to hastily turn back around, her face burning with embarrassment. As she faced forward again, she noticed that Vinyl was indeed wearing her training kit, but to Amelia's dismay, she had yet to put on her shorts. This meant that all that was visible in Vinyl's lower region were her black panties. "PUT YER BLOODY SHORTS ON!"

"Hahaha! You're so easy to tease! I knew we could have some laughs together." Vinyl chuckled, thoroughly entertained by Amelia's reaction. The heat in Amelia's face intensified, now a mixture of humiliation and anger, as she struggled to regain her composure amidst the teasing banter.

Great, now I’m easy and she probably thinks that I’m a frisbee… Brilliant!

"Vinyl, dear, please try to act your proper age. It's unbecoming to tease the poor filly." a sudden posh voice, laced with a British accent, resonated through the room, catching Amelia off guard. Her attention turned towards the doorway, and there stood a pony with elegant grey fur, sporting a scrutinising expression. Calm purple eyes softened the intensity of her gaze, countering the glare that was directed at Vinyl. The pony effortlessly pulled off a dark grey full-side fringe, allowing her long hair to cascade gracefully down her back. It was a stark contrast to Vinyl's untamed locks. Amelia recognised this pony immediately; she was the complete antithesis of Vinyl Scratch, yet they formed an unlikely partnership on the wings. The Toffee's number 12.

Octavia Melody!

Octavia's posh accent was not the sole indicator of her refined nature; her outfit paid homage to British culture in the most stylish manner. A purple woolly trench coat enveloped her figure, perfectly accentuating her eyes, while being impeccably buttoned up. A black woolly jumper peeked out from underneath, its turtleneck folded out with sophistication. Black loose pants hung elegantly beneath the trench coat, and black heeled boots completed the ensemble. If Octavia were not a footballer, she could easily pass for a model.

"Octavia!!!" Vinyl suddenly exclaimed in a cheerful tone, swiftly rising from her seat and sprinting towards the deadpan earth pony. With arms wide open, Vinyl intended to engulf Octavia in a warm embrace, but Octavia, with all her grace and swiftness, effortlessly ducked and manoeuvred under Vinyl's outstretched arms. Vinyl, however, missed her target completely, landing face-first past the doorway and into the hallway, emitting a pained moan. Meanwhile, Octavia adjusted her coat with a quick pull of her collar, her expression unamused.

Amelia stood there with her mouth agape, utterly amazed by the scene that had unfolded before her. As humorous as it was to witness Vinyl go flying, seeing Octavia dodge the surprise hug with such refined finesse was simply astonishing. Amelia had caught glimpses of Octavia's skill on the ball, but if she could execute spins like that flawlessly in a game, Amelia couldn't contain her excitement to witness what other remarkable feats Octavia was capable of.

"Ouch—Octavia..." Vinyl whined, her glasses all crooked on her snout when she looked over her shoulder, a hurt look on her face. "What was that for? I thought we were friends."

"Vinyl, we are friends, but I won't have one of your enthusiastic hugs while you are half-naked in front of this poor dear. It's not proper." Octavia said, walking and taking her own shirt from the hanger. That's when Octavia laid eyes on Amelia for the first time. A small gentle smile graced Octavia's face. "Hello, love. My name is Octavia Melody. It's nice to meet you."

"Yeah... Me name's Amelia... Nice to meet ya too." Amelia said in awe, dumbstruck by her classiness. Octavia tilted her head a little.

"I've never heard such a name or accent before. It's quite unusual. May I ask where you are from?" Octavia sat, leg crossed over the other, undoing her trench coat.

Oh, here we go again.

Amelia turned away once again. She opened her mouth to speak the truth, but didn't know if telling the truth about her origins was such a good idea when she didn't really understand why she was here in the first place. Did they know what humans are? Did they know where Merseyside is? Did they know about the accent her people have? It was very unlikely, so she didn't want to address it blindly.

"I've just recently come to Ponyville, living with my big sister. Plain and simple." Amelia shrugged, making Octavia raise her eyebrows and hum.

"Mmm, how peculiar. You must catch some eyes with how you speak."

"You're one to talk, Octy. The way you talk has caught my eye." Vinyl spoke up from the door, leaning her arm against the door frame as she grinned. Her other hand was on her hip in a flirtatious pose. With her shorts STILL not on, Amelia quickly looked away again. Octavia, however, continued to get undressed, making Vinyl lift her eyebrows with a raised brow. Her eyes roamed all over Octavia's physique. Vinyl couldn't help but put her hands together, close her eyes, and say a few words.

"Celestia, I don't know what I did to deserve this, but thank you for sharing such an angel that plays hard to get. Amen."

Octavia rolled her eyes, pulling up her shorts. "Vinyl, dear, perhaps you should get dressed instead of acting a fool, please. The poor filly is beet red."

Amelia had enough of feeling humiliated. She turned and headed to a private place, everything in hand to get changed. "Right then, I better get meself changed."

"Uhh, Amelia, that's the toilet."

"I know!"

Amelia took a few moments to collect herself, allowing her emotions to cool down. Being embarrassed in front of her new teammates was not the ideal start she had envisioned for her football journey. She yearned to establish understanding and a genuine bond with her fellow players, fostering a sense of camaraderie before stepping onto the field. However, thus far, she had encountered laughter, ridicule, and humiliation from her teammates. Determined to fit in, Amelia recognized the need to delve deeper into the world of "hoofball" and the pony culture surrounding it. She realized that in order to truly connect with her teammates, she would have to learn about their history, lingo, customs, and habits.

Amelia let out a sigh of contemplation. Where should she begin? How should she approach this endeavor? Should she dive into books and take diligent notes? No, she quickly dismissed the idea, knowing her tendency to lose focus after just a single page. It would be too time-consuming. Should she speak to Fluttershy, who might possess valuable insights? While Fluttershy might have an idea on a few things, Amelia hesitated, she didn't want to be a bother. Perhaps she could learn through firsthand experiences, picking up the necessary knowledge along her journey through this pony-filled land. However, that would mean initially remaining ignorant and clueless, a prospect that Amelia found unsettling. She was determined to avoid further embarrassment.

With a resolute decision, Amelia changed into her Everton jersey, secured her gloves, and slung her bag over her shoulder. She was ready to embrace the cold, to stretch her limbs, and to showcase her skills to The Toffees. The thought of stepping onto the field ignited a fire within her, filling her with a potent blend of excitement and nervous energy. Regardless of the challenges she had faced thus far, Amelia was determined to give her best.

As she opened the door to exit the restroom, Amelia expected to find an empty dressing room. However, to her surprise, Vinyl was seated on the bench, slouched with her headphones on, head-banging to the music. Vinyl turned her head, her purple glasses absent, revealing her crimson eyes that met Amelia's gaze with a friendly smile.

“There you are, finally ready to go?” Vinyl popped up from her seat, all dressed and ready in shorts, a training weather jacket, and expensive-looking boots. Amelia could only thank god she wasn’t still in her underwear.

"As ready as I'm gonna be, like."

“Good, let's get you warmed up then.”

As Amelia stepped outside, the coolness of the night air enveloped her, causing her fur to bristle and sending a shiver down her spine. The absence of clouds allowed the night sky to reveal its true beauty, an expanse of darkness adorned with countless twinkling stars. The larger orb, the moon, cast a gentle glow, creating a mesmerising spectacle for anyone fortunate enough to witness it. Amelia couldn't help but feel a sense of gratitude for being able to play beneath this celestial masterpiece.

Across the field, Scootaloo and Octavia engaged in a seamless display of passing and control. The ball danced effortlessly between them, each showcasing their unique style. Octavia possessed a nimbleness and grace that Amelia found captivating. With every reception, Octavia utilised various parts of her body to bring the ball under her control. It seemed as though gravity itself bent to her will, regardless of the force with which the ball was kicked towards her. This reminded Amelia of a Bulgarian player named Dimitar Berbatov, not in his entirety, but in a particular aspect. It was Berbatov's legendary touch, an innate skill that could not be taught but was bestowed upon a select few. With a single touch, a sloppy pass could be transformed into a strategic advantage. This was the very essence that Amelia witnessed in Octavia, an extraordinary flair that set her apart on the field.

On the opposite end of the spectrum, Scootaloo possessed a contrasting style compared to Octavia. While her first touch may not have been as flashy, it was solid and reliable. However, it was Scootaloo's passing that truly stood out, displaying an elite level of accuracy, skill, and precision. There was a distinct German flair in her approach to passing, utilising both the inside and outside of her foot with finesse, whether it be a one-touch or two-touch manoeuvre. Regardless of the technique employed, Scootaloo's passing was truly remarkable. It was akin to catching a glimpse of Mesut Ozil in action, witnessing the same level of precision and vision.

In the team setup, Scootaloo played as a striker in a false 9 role, assuming the role of the creative force among the trio of attackers. She expertly threaded passes to create scoring opportunities or utilised her dribbling skills to carve out chances for herself. Amelia keenly observed that Scootaloo possessed a level of on-ball intelligence that only comes with experience. She had an innate ability to find and exploit spaces off the ball, showcasing impressive awareness that bordered on the telepathic. Reflecting on her past experiences on Earth, Scootaloo reminded Amelia of two high-level players who excelled in a similar position.

Roberto Firmino, the Brazilian forward known for his exceptional footballing IQ, and Thomas Müller, the German attacker who possessed an innate understanding of the game, came to mind. While they may not have been the fastest or strongest players, their ability to read the game and make intelligent decisions set them apart. When combining Scootaloo's natural Pegasus speed with her footballing intellect, the potential for her to become a future star became evident.

Scootaloo and Octavia showcased two distinct styles of play, yet their tactical partnership held immense potential. However, before their on-field chemistry could fully blossom, a foundation of friendship and understanding needed to be established. The true power of their partnership would only emerge when they worked together harmoniously.

“Gorgeous, isn’t she?” Vinyl hummed, looking over at Scootaloo and Octavia, focusing more on Octavia.

“You mean Octavia?”

“Yeah, look at her go... bringing the ball to her feet so effortlessly. It’s like she has feather feet. She’s amazing.” Vinyl said with a goofy smile. Amelia raised an eyebrow, a sly grin forming on her face.

"Ooooo, you fancy 'er, don't ya?" Amelia said, nudging Vinyl with her elbow.

“Ha! You’d have to be soft not to. Now get in goal, I wanna see what you got.”

Amelia nodded contentedly as she made her way towards what she affectionately referred to as her Zone. Her gaze settled upon the gleaming goalposts, their pristine condition eliciting her approval. Satisfied with the measurements of her designated area, she nodded once again, acknowledging their correctness. As she positioned herself between the goal sticks, her gloves securely fastened, she tested the grip by sliding the palms of her gloves against each other, a grin spreading across her face. Despite having used them for a few months, the gloves remained in excellent shape.

Beneath the towering goalposts, Amelia found solace, confidence, and tranquility. This was why she dubbed it 'Her Zone' instead of simply referring to it as the penalty box. The Zone triggered something within Amelia, igniting a focused determination and fearlessness to protect the goal at all costs. It felt as though it was her very purpose to be the last line of defence. All she had to do now was patiently wait for the imminent threat of the ball.

Meanwhile, Vinyl had the ball at her feet, effortlessly manoeuvring it with a series of kick-ups that seamlessly transitioned into a swift round-the-world skill using her right foot. Next, she propelled the ball upwards with just the right amount of force, delicately balancing it on her forehead for a few seconds before deftly catching it with her boot, displaying remarkable control. Raising her boot in one fluid motion, Vinyl flicked the ball over her head, allowing it to sail through the air. However, as soon as the ball bounced once behind her, she executed an audacious Thiago flick. With the precision of her laces and toes, she propelled the ball behind her back, causing it to bounce off the floor once again, this time with enough force for it to soar over her own head. It gracefully landed in front of her feet, where she deftly touched it and continued her fluid dribbling.

Brazilian. That was the only word that came to Amelia's mind as she witnessed Vinyl's enchanting dance with the ball. It was as if the ball and Vinyl shared an unspoken understanding, moving in perfect harmony. Watching Vinyl freestyle with the ball evoked memories of Thiago Alcantara, Diego Maradona, and Ronaldinho—some of the greatest dribblers known on Earth. While Vinyl may not have reached their level, nor may she ever, the prospect of witnessing her growth and evolution into something truly special was undeniably exciting.

The growing smile of awe vanished from Amelia's face in an instant as her peripheral vision caught sight of a ball hurtling towards her. Instinctively, her hands moved on their own, swiftly and forcefully driving the ball into the ground before securely catching the ensuing rebound, safely cradling it within the grip of her gloves. Amelia's gaze shifted upwards, fully expecting the unexpected strike to have come from Scootaloo. However, to her surprise, that assumption couldn't have been further from the truth.

A wave of fear coursed through Amelia's body, leaving her momentarily paralysed as she laid eyes on the figure slowly approaching her. It was the earth pony she had recently encountered, but this encounter had not been a friendly one. The twang of dread intensified as the words escaped her trembling lips.

"YOU…"

Ahhh shite…

Thanks to the nonexistent smoke around her, Amelia could see properly who she had bumped into a few hours ago. It was none other than Minuette, the formidable defensive midfielder of the Toffees. Known for her explosive temper and aggressive playing style, Minuette had earned the moniker of "The Blue Raging Bull." Her extensive disciplinary record, consisting of 37 yellow cards and 9 red cards during her time with the team, spoke volumes about her short fuse. Whether it was berating the referee for unfavourable decisions or delivering bone-crunching tackles on unsuspecting players, Minuette was always quick to engage in confrontation. The mere mention of her name evoked comparisons to the likes of Roy Keane or Sergio Ramos, players notorious for their fiery demeanour.

Amelia didn't need to witness any actions from Minuette to understand the danger she posed. The intense glare directed at her spoke volumes, foretelling a storm of aggression. It was a look that conveyed the imminent threat of a tenth red card.

Goodbye, legs.

"Eh, ese, you were at my fookin' casa and now you're fookin' aquí, cabrón. Quién eres y qué quieres!?"

Oh yeah... did I mention she lived a part of her life in a pony version of Mexico? Crazy, right?

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, ese. Calm yourself down, no trouble here " Vinyl exclaimed, her voice filled with urgency as she intercepted Amelia's line of sight. She held her hands up in a calming gesture, trying to diffuse the tension that hung heavily in the air.

"Fookin' move, Equestriano. That filly entered mi casa, ruined mi pie, and scared mi familia. I won't have it, güey!" Minuette spat, her voice filled with anger and frustration. Her eyes, like daggers, glared fiercely over Vinyl's shoulder, causing Amelia to instinctively rub her arm for comfort. The intensity in Minuette's gaze was alarming, emanating a sense of pure wrath.

Vinyl attempted to reason with Minuette, her voice tinged with a hint of desperation. "Alright, just calm down. I'm sure this is all just a big misunderstanding—somehow. She's just a filly, she probably didn't know any better. Be the bigger pony here and let her off the hook, just this once. Okay? Okay! Good. Now, why don't you go get changed before Applejack comes and sees what all the fuss is about, yeah?"

Minuette remained silent, her body language indicating that she was still contemplating shoving Vinyl aside and unleashing her fury on Amelia. However, she refrained from doing so. Instead, she slowly backtracked, never taking her eyes off of Amelia. With a pointed finger, Minuette silently warned her to be cautious. Amelia heeded the warning, fully aware that she needed to tread carefully.

Finally, Minuette turned away and strode towards the changing rooms. Amelia released a breath she didn't realise she had been holding, her eyes following Minuette's retreating figure. Vinyl turned to face Amelia, raising an eyebrow inquisitively.

"Uhhh, I see you two have met..."

"I dunno wanna talk about it, mate..." Amelia muttered, her voice filled with a mixture of apprehension and defeat.

"Oh, we will after training." Vinyl declared, determination evident in her tone. "It doesn't take much to piss her off, but that look in her eyes... You must have really done something bad, bad."

Amelia's body sagged with the weight of those words, the thought of an enraged Mexican bearing down on her sounding truly terrifying. She silently prayed that the consequences would be nothing more than a smack on the rear with a belt. Glancing over at Scootaloo and Octavia, Amelia sought solace in their presence, only to find Scootaloo sporting a smug grin, her gaze locked onto Amelia's. The desire to wipe that smile off Scootaloo's face burned within Amelia. Applejack, witnessing the scene, made her way towards Minuette in the changing room.

What a fantastic way to start...

Chapter 7 - STOP POKING ME!

Something has gone wrong. We don't seem to have an archived copy of that chapter.

Chapter 8 - Bibs Vs Non-Bibs. (Half-Time)

Chapter 8.

Applejack’s journey into the world of Hoofball started amidst the sprawling orchards of her youth, where she first felt the thrill of the sport pulse through her veins. Her childhood was filled with dreams of glory on the field, dreams that she pursued with the same tenacity she brought to her work in the apple orchards. The physical strength and endurance she built from her daily chores translated seamlessly into her early athletic endeavours, setting the stage for a passion that would define much of her life.

It all changed the day Applejack happened upon a group of fillies and colts improvisively playing Hoofball in the local park. The makeshift goal they had created from swing bars and seats caught her eye, but it was the sheer joy and laughter emanating from the game that truly captivated her. Watching the young players, Applejack felt a magnetic pull towards the field, an irresistible urge that saw her join the game on a whim. That day, her casual appreciation for Hoofball transformed into a profound love for the sport.

With Granny Smith’s full support, Applejack joined an amateur team, initially playing as a Centre Back where her height and physicality were seen as major assets. However, her journey through various positions on the team was met with mixed results. Her stint as a goalkeeper was short-lived, and soon she was moved back to a defensive role. Yet, it wasn’t until she was placed in midfield that Applejack truly found her calling.

In midfield, Applejack’s natural leadership qualities came to the forefront. Her voice, strong and clear, could be heard across the field, directing play and inspiring her teammates. Her ability to carry the ball under pressure and her knack for breaking up opposition plays made her an invaluable member of the team. Under the coach’s guidance, she honed these skills, becoming not just a participant in the game but a dominant force to be reckoned with.

As Applejack’s reputation grew, scouts from cities like Canterlot and Manehattan began showing interest, offering her spots in prestigious academy-level programs. Despite the allure of playing for top-tier teams, Applejack’s deep-rooted connection to her family and her home in Ponyville held her back. She declined these offers, choosing instead to stay close to her roots.

The opportunity with The Toffees, however, was different. Here was a chance to play competitive Hoofball while staying within the comforting proximity of her family and the familiar orchards of her childhood. Joining The Toffees marked a pivotal moment in Applejack’s career, propelling her into new levels of athletic achievement and personal growth.

Her impact on the field was undeniable. As a leader, teammate, and formidable midfielder, Applejack helped shape the trajectory of The Toffees, leading them through countless matches with a blend of skill, courage, and unwavering determination. Her legacy as a club icon was not just in the goals scored or games won, but in the spirit she brought to the game and the inspiration she provided to those who watched her play. For Applejack, Hoofball was more than a sport—it was a journey of heart, challenge, and boundless passion.

As Applejack's career with The Toffees reached a critical juncture, the retirement of Granny Smith, the cherished manager and pillar of the club, marked the beginning of a tumultuous period. Granny Smith's departure was more than a mere change in leadership; it symbolised the end of an era that had defined the club for years. Her decision to step down was influenced by a desire to infuse new energy into the team's management, but the transition was anything but smooth.

The fallout from this shift in leadership was immediate and deeply personal for Applejack. One by one, her closest teammates, friends with whom she had shared both triumphs and defeats, began to transfer to other teams. These moves were driven by career ambitions and the lure of new opportunities, but they left Applejack feeling isolated and somewhat betrayed. The camaraderie that had once been the team's backbone, lending strength and unity on the field, began to dissolve. Relationships that had been built on mutual respect and shared goals turned strained, the sweetness of past victories overshadowed by current tensions.

As the core group of players dispersed, the team's performance inevitably suffered. The Toffees found themselves lacking the cohesion and synergy that had once made them formidable opponents. Without key players who had not only skill but also a deep understanding of the team's dynamics, the remaining members struggled to maintain the club's competitive edge. The rhythm of play that had once been intuitive now seemed disjointed; passes went astray, strategies failed, and the once tight-knit defence became porous.

The losses began to mount, each defeat chipping away at the team's morale and standings in the league. For Applejack, who had invested so much of her heart and soul into the club, this decline was especially painful. It wasn't just about the games lost or the slipping ranks; it was about watching the legacy that Granny Smith had built, and that she had helped to sustain, start to crumble around her.

Caught in this whirlwind of change and challenge, Applejack faced a daunting task. As one of the senior players now bearing the brunt of leadership in a struggling team, she had to find a way to rally The Toffees. The question loomed large: Could she inspire a resurgence, or was the downfall too great to overcome? With her own passion for the game tested by these trials, Applejack's resolve was put to the ultimate test. It was a pivotal moment that would define her legacy and shape the future of the club.

Applejack's transition from a seasoned player to the manager of the Toffees marked a bold new chapter in both her career and the club's history. Her decision to step into this role was met with surprise and skepticism across Equestria, as few could envision the hardworking midfielder taking on such a significant challenge. Yet, for Applejack, the move was driven by a deep-seated loyalty to the club and a determination to uphold the legacy left by Granny Smith.

Embracing her new role with characteristic grit, Applejack dove headfirst into rebuilding the team. She poured over game tapes, studied different formations and strategies, and began to shape the squad according to her vision. Her approach was methodical and thoughtful, choosing players not just for their skill but for their ability to fit into the team dynamic she envisioned. She focused heavily on the defensive and offensive balance, ensuring that each player she scouted and brought in could meet the demands of her tactical setup.

Applejack's commitment extended beyond the senior team. She frequently visited the academy, where she watched the young colts and fillies train, providing guidance and encouragement. Her presence there was not just about scouting the next big star but about fostering a nurturing environment that valued hard work and dedication—traits that she embodied.

Despite her efforts and dedication, Applejack's tenure as manager was fraught with challenges. Just as the team would begin to find its rhythm and start climbing the standings, unforeseen circumstances would throw them off course. Injuries were an all-too-common setback, robbing the team of key players at critical moments. Transfers and departures of promising talent also disrupted the team's development, while internal frictions sometimes led to frustration both on and off the pitch.

Yet, through each setback, Applejack's resolve never wavered. Her commitment to the Toffees was unwavering, driven by a desire to not only bring success to the team but also to honour the memory of Granny Smith, who had built the club from the ground up. Applejack knew that what the Toffees needed was stability and a spark of brilliance—a standout player who could change the game, somepony who could carry the team when the going got tough.

Applejack's keen eye for talent had always been a defining trait of her management style, and it was this knack for spotting potential that led her to Scootaloo. Over the years, she had watched the young filly at the academy evolve into a player with exceptional qualities. Scootaloo's ability to pass the ball with rhythmic precision, combined with her acute awareness and remarkable speed, made her a standout among her peers. Applejack nurtured this talent with care, providing guidance and support that allowed Scootaloo to flourish under her tutelage.

The discovery of Scootaloo’s talent was a significant boost for the team, but Applejack knew she needed more pieces to complete the puzzle. That's when Amelia came into the picture—a pegasus whose aspiration to be a goalkeeper was as unique as it was unheard of in Equestria. Initially, Applejack harboured doubts; the idea of a pegasus, typically known for their agility and speed, opting to guard the goal was unconventional, to say the least, when Applejack saw her hands however, she knew she found another spark in those hands, the hands of a true goalkeeper. Applejack had to take her in to nurture her the same way she did with Scootaloo, to make the future brighter for the club. But for that to happen, she needed to get Grind Duster on board to help Amelia develop into something more.

Applejack's march up the hill was brisk and determined, bypassing rows of familiar apple trees she had cared for over the years, her boots pressing deeply into the soft earth. Today, however, her attention was not on the orchard, but on a more pressing matter.

As she neared the summit, her eyes immediately locked onto the figure of Grind Duster. He sat nestled between the gnarled roots of an old apple tree, the natural seat moulded by years of use. His gaze was fixed on the sweeping view of the training grounds below, a tranquil setting that belied the tension Applejack carried with her.

Grind Duster’s posture relaxed as he absorbed the peaceful scene, but he shifted slightly, sensing somepony’s approach. He looked up, his expression shifting from contemplation to a steely gaze as he recognised Applejack. Despite their recent disagreements, this was their spot—a neutral ground for airing grievances and seeking advice.

Applejack paused a few feet away, catching her breath and gathering her thoughts before she spoke. "Grind Duster." she said, her voice firm yet tinged with urgency, "I need to have a word with ya. It's 'bout Amelia."

Grind Duster raised an eyebrow, intrigued by the seriousness in her tone. He patted the ground next to him, a silent invitation for her to sit. Applejack took a deep breath and moved closer, sitting down beside him, her posture mirroring his as they both looked out over the fields.

"It's a long shot, and I might end up the laughingstock of the league if this don't pan out, but there's a whole lot ridin' on this." Applejack continued, her hands gesturing toward the distant figures on the training field. "She's got potential—real potential. I seen what those hands can do when I looked at Amelia's—they're just like the ones you had—like what Pinkie Pie had." Applejack reminisced.

Grind Duster’s response was succinct, punctuated by the deliberate action of drawing a slow puff from his cigarette. He exhaled a plume of smoke before continuing, his voice flat and resolute. “No. It won’t work.” he said, shaking his head slightly as he looked out over the field. “She’s a pegasus, and her body isn’t meant to play in goal.”

Applejack maintained her composure in the face of Duster’s skepticism. His traditional approach to coaching had prepared her for his initial resistance. She leaned in slightly, her voice steady but infused with a hint of challenge, "Even with them hands? Hands of a goalkeeper, no less?"

Her question hung in the air, pointed and probing, designed to make Duster reconsider the assets Amelia could bring to the team. Applejack’s eyes locked onto his, searching for a flicker of concession, her belief in Amelia’s potential unwavering. However, Grind Duster’s belief didn’t falter, he looked back at the view, sighing smoke.

Duster leaned back against the sturdy trunk of the apple tree, a wry smile crossing his features as he shifted the conversation with a touch of levity. “Ever think about having a vacation? I hear Cyphorse is a nice place to visit, to relax, a place where you can stop overthinking everything, hell, maybe even hook up with a stallion that can satisfy your needs.”

Applejack frowned slightly, unamused by the diversion. Her focus remained unshaken, her response sharp and immediate. "I ain't needin' no time to relax or to be foolin' around with any buck. I need to focus on the team, to get 'em out of that relegation battle."

Duster sighed, picking up a fallen twig and twirling it between his fingers. “Then stop overthinking things. Sure, Amelia has an extremely rare gift but, it’s just unfortunate she has wings. You cannot keep saying ‘what if’ when it’s not even guaranteed to work.” His tone was serious now, pressing the point that while innovation was valuable, it needed to be tempered with realism.

Applejack’s gaze hardened with determination. "Sometimes y'all forget that 'what if' is all we got." she countered. "It's them 'what ifs' that change the game, find us new ways to win. I ain't ready to give up on her or the idea just 'cause it's unconventional."

Duster's words cut through the air with a sharpness that momentarily silenced the gentle rustle of the leaves around them. “Then you will be the first to try and fail.” he stated flatly, his tone final, as if sealing the fate of her endeavours with his.

The statement hung heavy between them, the quiet suddenly more pronounced, filled only by the distant sounds of nature and the occasional creak of the tree that sheltered them. Applejack’s expression hardened, her jaw setting with the kind of resolve that had defined her both on and off the field. She met Duster's gaze steadily, unflinching in the face of his blunt prediction.

After a moment, she spoke, her voice calm yet firm, laced with the undying spirit she was known for. “Maybe so…” she acknowledged, allowing the possibility but not succumbing to it. "But if I don't give it a shot, I'll never know. And that's a failure I can't abide by. We gotta innovate, adapt. If not, we're already licked."

Applejack rose to her feet, standing tall in front of Duster, her sudden movement forcing him to crane his neck upward to meet her gaze. The intensity in her eyes was palpable, her voice thick with emotion as she poured out her heart.

"When I played hoofball, back when I was younger, I remember feelin' free... I remember smilin', holdin' everything in my hands. All I needed was a ball at my feet." Her hands gestured expressively, emphasising the emptiness she felt now. "But... look at my hands now... they're empty... I'm startin' to lose everything I hold dear all 'cause I can't keep this club together."

She paused, her voice breaking slightly as she confessed her fears and frustrations. "I admit it, okay, I'm desperate, and I'm willin' to try anything to get this club back on track."

The vulnerability in her admission struck a chord in the air between them. Duster, usually so steadfast and stoic, could see the toll the situation was taking on Applejack. Her usually unshakeable demeanour was frayed by the weight of her responsibilities and the fear of losing what she cherished most.

He looked up at her, his eyes softening as he absorbed the depth of her distress. In that moment, any remnants of his skepticism dissolved, replaced by a renewed sense of partnership and support. He understood now more than ever how much this meant to her and how crucial his support was.

Duster’s tone shifted as he took in the gravity of Applejack’s commitment, a mix of realisation and respect colouring his voice. “You’re serious about this…” he stated, the simplicity of his words underlined by a newfound understanding of her determination.

Applejack met his gaze squarely, her resolve clear. “Yes, I am.” she affirmed, her voice steady and strong. "This ain't just about winnin' games or bein' at the top. It's about savin' our club, preservin' what Granny Smith built, and provin' that we can adapt and overcome. If Amelia and her unique hands can be a part of that solution, then I owe it to the team—and to myself—to try."

The silence that followed was profound, filled only by the gentle sounds of the surrounding nature—the distant calls of nocturnal creatures and the rustle of leaves stirred by a soft breeze. Applejack and Duster remained locked in a quiet contemplation, each lost in their thoughts as they weighed the conversation's gravity. Duster, his gaze lingering on Applejack, seemed to be wrestling internally, balancing his skepticism with her unwavering determination, trying to decide which deserved his faith.

Finally, breaking the moment's stillness, Duster reached into his coat pocket and retrieved a pack of cigarettes. He pulled one out for himself and, holding the pack toward Applejack, offered her one as well. She accepted, a silent acknowledgment of the shared moment of reflection. Duster lit her cigarette first, shielding the flame with his hand against the gentle night wind, then lit his own.

Applejack settled back down against the tree, the flickering of the cigarette end briefly illuminating her thoughtful expression. Neither felt the need to fill the silence with words. Instead, they sat together under the vast, starry sky, the quiet offering a rare peace amidst the storm of challenges they faced. The smoke from their cigarettes mingled with the cool night air, each puff seeming to carry away a bit of the tension that had built up over their discussion.

The night stretched on, the timeless dance of fireflies beginning around them, adding a layer of magic to the scene. It was a moment of reprieve, a chance to just be, before the demands of the world would inevitably pull them back into the fray. For now, though, they could enjoy the simple companionship and the beauty of the night, each finding comfort in the presence of the other as they prepared for what was to come.

Duster's voice broke the contemplative silence, soft and reflective. “It’s a beautiful night, isn’t it.” He exhaled a slow stream of smoke, his eyes drifting upward to admire the expansive night sky, where stars twinkled like scattered jewels against the dark canvas.

Applejack followed his gaze, taking in the serene beauty above them. “It sure is.” she agreed, her voice equally hushed, infused with a sense of wonder and a brief respite from her earlier anxieties. The calmness of the evening and the gentle shimmer of starlight seemed to lend a tranquil quality to their surroundings, providing a stark contrast to the heavy discussions of earlier.

She took a deep breath, the cool night air mingling with the smoky aroma of her cigarette, and felt a momentary ease settle over her. This natural backdrop, unmarred by the complexities of their daily lives, reminded her of the bigger picture, of the world's enduring beauty despite personal trials and tribulations.

Duster's gaze shifted back from the stars to Applejack, his demeanour serious as he laid out his terms. "I’ll help, Applejack, but on one condition. She has one chance to show me that she is worthy to call herself a goalkeeper." he declared, the firmness in his voice underscoring the gravity of his offer.

Applejack's eyes widened slightly at the condition, understanding the stakes that Duster was setting. Yet, the opportunity to prove Amelia's potential was all she needed. A mixture of relief and gratitude washed over her as she responded warmly, "Thank you, gramps." She reached out, pulling him into a closer embrace, her actions conveying the deep appreciation and respect she felt for his willingness to support her, despite his reservations.

Duster responded to the embrace with a slight nod, acknowledging her thanks and the challenge ahead. Their partnership was sealed under the night sky, with both understanding the significance of the task before them. This was more than just training a player; it was about testing the limits of tradition and capability in the pursuit of something greater for their team and for Amelia.

As they sat back, their shoulders touching in silent camaraderie, the weight of the decision seemed to blend into the tranquility of the night around them. There was a road ahead filled with potential and pitfalls, but for now, they had each other's support, and that was a formidable start.

After the playful chase around the field, where Amelia tried to tag Applebloom with her notoriously 'dodgy' fingers, the scene shifted to a more serious tone. Applebloom, taking on a role that seemed beyond her years, had prepared a series of drills for Amelia. It was time to put the pegasus’s potential as a goalkeeper to a rigorous test. They focused on enhancing her endurance, stretching her flexibility, and sharpening her reaction time and agility. Applebloom also meticulously observed Amelia’s footwork and her diving ability, crucial for her role between the posts.

With a clipboard in hand, Applebloom moved around the training area, her eyes rarely leaving Amelia. She made notes diligently, capturing every detail, every strength, and every area that might need improvement. The seriousness with which she approached this task was a reflection of the responsibility she felt, wanting to ensure Amelia was given every chance to succeed.

By the end of the session, Amelia was visibly exhausted. She leaned forward, resting her hands on her knees as she tried to catch her breath. Despite the fatigue that rippled through her body, there was a glimmer of satisfaction in her eyes. She had pushed herself to the limits, adhering to Applejack's advice to give everything she had. This wasn't just about proving her capabilities to Duster or Applejack; it was also about proving to herself that she could meet the physical demands of this new role.

Amelia’s dedication and the sheer effort she displayed didn't go unnoticed. Applebloom, though still jotting down notes, looked up occasionally to offer words of encouragement or a nod of approval, reinforcing the positive atmosphere of the training session.

Applebloom, clipboard still in hand, lowered it with a nod of satisfaction as she surveyed Amelia’s final efforts. “Not bad, not bad at all, Amelia. You passed the fitness program with flying colours, I’m impressed.” she announced, her tone laced with genuine admiration.

Stepping closer, she extended a bottle of water toward the exhausted pegasus. Amelia, still bent over and panting heavily from the exertion, gratefully accepted the offered bottle. She unscrewed the cap with slightly trembling hands, a clear sign of how hard she had pushed herself during the drills.

“Thanks.” Amelia gasped, her voice hoarse from the intense session. She lifted the bottle to her lips and drank deeply, the water clearly a welcome relief. As she paused from her gulps, wiping the sweat from her forehead with the back of her hand, she caught Applebloom’s expression.

Applebloom’s smile broadened as she observed Amelia’s determined efforts, a clear sense of pride shining in her eyes. She was genuinely pleased with Amelia’s performance and resilience, seeing the fruits of their labour come to life in such a tangible way.

Catching her breath, Amelia paused from her hurried sips of water and noticed Applebloom's persistent smile. A mix of curiosity and mild exhaustion coloured her voice as she asked, "What you smiling at?" Her gaze, though tired, held a hint of amusement and confusion, wondering what could be prompting such a pleased expression from her coach after such a gruelling session.

Applebloom's smile grew wider, her eyes twinkling with a mix of admiration and excitement as she watched Amelia catch her breath. She took a step closer, her posture relaxed and open, indicating her genuine approval and enthusiasm. "I like you, Amelia." she began, her voice warm and encouraging. "Your body is in peak condition, your work ethic is admirable."

With a gentle gesture, she placed a reassuring hand on Amelia's shoulder, giving it a light squeeze to emphasise her point. "Not only does that make my work easier." she continued, chuckling softly, "but it also gives me the opportunity to study you more. I’m really looking forward to working with you, you know."

Amelia, catching her breath and visibly invigorated by Applebloom's praise, flashed a grateful smile and gave a nod of acknowledgment. She straightened her posture, pulling together a burst of strength, inspired by the supportive words, even as her muscles ached from the drills. The fatigue that had threatened to overwhelm her seemed to ebb away, replaced by a renewed sense of purpose.

However, a shadow crossed her features, a hint of uncertainty clouding her expression. She hesitated, then spoke with a mixture of regret and realism tinting her voice. "That means a lot to hear, Applebloom, but, I don’t know if I’ll be here after this night. This could be the first and last time we’ll work together.” Amelia shifted her weight from one foot to the other, her gaze drifting off towards the field as if searching for answers in the grassy expanse.

Applebloom's expression softened as she listened to Amelia's concerns. With a reassuring smile, she placed a comforting hand on Amelia's shoulder, guiding her gaze back from the distant field to meet her own. "I wouldn’t worry about that, Amelia." she said gently, her voice imbued with confidence. "Applejack speaks highly of you."

Her words seemed to carry a weight of sincerity that was designed to bolster Amelia's spirits. "She sees a lot of potential in you, and so do I. We both believe you can make a big impact here." Applebloom continued, her tone encouraging.

Amelia's brow furrowed in confusion at Applebloom's assurance. Although the words were meant to comfort, they stirred a wave of doubt within her. It was true that Applejack had never actually seen her in action, and Applebloom's observations were limited to her recent fitness exercises. How could they be so sure of her potential? She glanced down at her gloved hands, a thought nagging at her. She suspected that their faith in her might have something to do with these hands, often remarked upon for their unusual dexterity for a pegasus.

"What makes you think I’ll be good enough to be a goalkeeper?" Amelia asked, looking back up at Applebloom with a mixture of curiosity and skepticism. "I hear goalkeepers and pegasus don’t go together well."

Applebloom met her gaze steadily, understanding the root of Amelia's hesitation. "It's true." she acknowledged, "that it’s uncommon. But sometimes, the best opportunities lie in the unexpected. Your hands, Amelia—they’re not typical for a pegasus. They’re strong, coordinated, and you have an instinct for the ball that can’t be taught."

She stepped closer, her voice dropping to a more intimate, persuasive tone. "You're right that most pegasi don't end up as goalkeepers, but you're not most pegasi. Applejack doesn’t just throw words around. She sees something in you—a knack for anticipating where the ball will be, a fearlessness in your dives, and a level of control that’s rare."

Applebloom's confidence was palpable, and it was clear she believed wholeheartedly in Amelia's potential. "Give yourself a chance to prove that you can redefine what it means to be a goalkeeper. We believe in breaking moulds, not fitting into them. Let’s show everypony what you’re capable of."

Redefine? My hands are not typical for a pegasus? What does that mean? Why do they have so much faith in me?

Amelia's confusion grew as Applebloom gently removed one of her gloves, holding up Amelia's hand for both of them to examine. "Do you see it? Do you see what I mean?" Applebloom asked, her eyes eager and expectant.

"No… All I see is my hand.” Amelia responded, her voice tinged with uncertainty as she looked down at her own palm.

"Okay, then look at my hand and tell me what’s different.” Applebloom instructed, offering her own hand for comparison.

Amelia observed closely. Applebloom's hand was pristine, unmarked by any physical trials. In contrast, Amelia's hand bore the telltale signs of a sports career filled with hard knocks—scarred, with fingers that had been broken and healed imperfectly, a palm lined with the evidence of stress. This stark difference made her pause, a realisation dawning slowly.

Applebloom noticed the shift in Amelia's expression and nodded, "Yes, that's it. You’re starting to understand, aren’t you?"

Amelia's mind raced. Was this rugged history of her hands what Applejack and Applebloom saw as potential? Did they view her past injuries not as drawbacks?

"What does all this mean?" Amelia finally asked, her curiosity piqued but still clouded with doubt.

Applebloom’s expression turned serious, almost reverent as she began to explain. "Don’t you know about The Legendary Hand of Karma? One of the best, if not the best goalkeeper in the history of hoofball?”

Amelia shook her head, her ignorance in this regard evident.

Applebloom sighed slightly, then continued with a hint of excitement in her voice. "Karma was an earth pony who became a legendary goalkeeper. He started playing at the age of 6 and didn’t retire until he was 45. He was known for his precision, his fearlessness, and his acrobatic saves. He led his team to a league title with an invincible season because he didn’t let a single goal pass him. But what ponies remembered most were his hands—they were deformed, broken, and scarred, just like yours."

She paused to let her words sink in. "There’s a tale that during his games, Karma’s hands had a mind of their own, saving shots that seemed impossible to reach. It was like his hands developed an instinct, a kind of muscle memory, from all those years of play and injuries. His hands knew what to do even before his mind did."

Amelia listened, captivated by the story, her own hands suddenly seeming not a sign of her limitations but a testament to her potential. "You see, Amelia, your hands—they tell a story of experience, of enduring in the toughest spots. That's not just experience; it's instinct. And that's what we see in you. You're not just enduring; you're adapting, learning, and possibly, you could become one of the greats, just like Karma."

Amelia's reflection on the tale of Karma was abruptly cut short by the sharp blast of a whistle, slicing through the chatter and activity on the pitch. She looked up to see Applejack, standing commandingly at the centre of the field, Grind Duster by her side lending an air of seasoned experience to the scene.

As the players gathered, jogging and walking from different parts of the pitch, the atmosphere shifted from casual to charged. Applebloom, breaking away from their deep discussion, gestured to Amelia encouragingly. "Come on, Amelia. It’s time to get the training match started."

Feeling a surge of adrenaline, Amelia quickly followed, her thoughts transitioning from the historical greatness of Karma to the immediate challenge ahead. Her nerves tingled with anticipation and a renewed sense of purpose; this training match was an opportunity to start proving her potential.

As Amelia and Applebloom reached the group, the energy was palpable. Applejack, with a firm tone that commanded attention, began to address the eager squad. "Alright, folks. It's time to get a little match started." she declared. The announcement was met with enthusiastic cheers from the players, clearly relieved to break away from the monotony of drills.

"I've already organised the teams, so if I call your name, please pick up one of them blue bibs from the pile over there." Applejack continued, her hand gesturing towards a stack of brightly coloured bibs as she consulted a list she held.

“Caramel, Bon Bon, Meadow Song, Cherry Fizzy, Noteworthy, Big Mac, Thunder Lane, Carrot Top, Vinyl Scratch, Octavia, and Scootaloo, you’ll all be on the bibs team.” she announced, reading off the names with a steady pace.

Amelia's heart sank a little as she listened to the lineup. Her team's defense was up against some of the most formidable players like Vinyl, Octavia, and particularly Scootaloo, whose skills on the field were well-known. Glancing at Applejack, she noticed a deliberate grin on her face—clear evidence that this setup was a challenge meant specifically for Amelia.

Just then, a reassuring touch on her shoulder snapped Amelia out of her apprehensive thoughts. Turning, she saw Applebloom beside her, offering a warm smile and a thumbs up. "Good luck!" Applebloom said with genuine encouragement before she headed off to the sideline.

As Applebloom walked away, Amelia's gaze inadvertently followed, crossing paths with Scootaloo, who was already gearing up for the game. The look Scootaloo gave her was intense, a mix of competitive zeal and what seemed like personal vendetta. It was a stare that promised a challenging match, filled with nothing less than fierce determination.

Meeting Scootaloo's gaze squarely, Amelia's own eyes narrowed, a silent vow forming within her to rise to the challenge. Her stance solidified, ready and resolved; no matter the reputation or the intensity of her opponents, she was there to prove herself. Today's match wasn't just about playing—it was about asserting her worth as a goalkeeper, her resilience in the face of direct challenge, and her unyielding spirit to excel against the odds.

Applejack continued with her organisational efforts, her voice carrying clearly over the murmurs of excitement from the assembled players. "As for the none-bibs team." she said, scanning her list to make sure no one was missed, "Amelia, Lyra, Daisy, Cherry Berry, Comet Tail, Dr. Hooves, Minuette, Apple Cobbler, Braeburn, Derpy, and Berry Punch." She paused to let everyone take in their assignments, her eyes briefly meeting Amelia's with a nod of encouragement.

"When y'all are ready, get in shape, sort positions, do them last-minute stretches before I blow the whistle to start." she instructed, her tone shifting to that of a coach gearing up her team for a serious effort.

The players dispersed to their respective teams, the air buzzing with the quick exchange of strategies and positions. Amelia felt a surge of focus as she took her place by the goal, her teammates gathering around to discuss their defensive setup.

Lyra approached Amelia, offering a quick grin and a pat on the back. "We've got this, just stick to what you know and keep your eyes on the ball." she advised, her confidence reassuring.

Amelia nodded, feeling the weight of the responsibility on her shoulders but also the support of her team. She bent down for a few last-minute stretches, flexing her fingers and rolling her shoulders to loosen up. The rest of her team was similarly engaged, with Dr. Hooves and Braeburn discussing midfield tactics while Cherry Berry and Derpy went over their communication on the field.

As Amelia stood up, she scanned the opposition, her gaze locking once more with Scootaloo’s, who was already in a sprinter’s stance, ready to dash at the first blow of the whistle. The competitive atmosphere was palpable, each player mentally preparing for the imminent clash.

Applejack walked to the centre of the pitch, whistle in hand, ready to start the match. Amelia took a deep breath, grounding herself in the moment. Her team looked to her, ready to defend their goal under her lead. As the whistle’s sharp sound pierced the air, the game kicked off with a burst of energy, and Amelia’s focus narrowed to nothing but the game at hand.

Let’s see what these hands can do then…

5’ GREAT STOP! The game was off to a quick start, with Noteworthy orchestrating a smooth play from the midfield. With a keen eye and an understanding of his teammates' positioning, he fed the ball to Vinyl. Her agility shone brightly as she spun effortlessly through the middle of the pitch, dodging defenders with a grace that underscored her reputation.

Vinyl, sensing the right moment, executed a precise pass through the defence, setting up Scootaloo for a potential strike. The young forward, always ready to capitalise, took the pass in stride. With one deft touch, she positioned the ball for a left-footed lob, aiming to catch Amelia off guard with a chip over her head into the net.

Amelia, however, was fully alert and demonstrated her readiness and agility as the team's last line of defence. Her eyes locked onto the trajectory of the ball as Scootaloo made her move. In a fluid motion, Amelia leaped upwards, her arms extended to their fullest. With a well-timed jump and a strong hand, she managed to parry the ball, pushing it just over the crossbar and behind for a corner.

As the team regrouped after the near miss, Amelia wiped the sweat from her brow, her mind racing with the play that had just unfolded. She glanced at her defenders, a mix of frustration and determination in her eyes. “That was too easy.” she called out to them, her voice firm yet encouraging. “You all know how dangerous Vinyl and Scootaloo are. We can’t let them do that again, or I’m going to have to work overtime here!”

The defenders nodded, acknowledging her point. They huddled briefly, discussing how to tighten their coverage and adjust their positioning. The lapse had been a wake-up call, and they were quick to strategise a more robust defensive approach. They agreed on closer marking and better communication, recognising the need to disrupt the Bibs’ attacking flow before threats could develop.

As the players dispersed back to their positions, the sense of urgency was palpable. Amelia set herself back in goal, her gaze sharp and alert, ready for the next play. Her defenders took their places with renewed focus, each one mentally preparing to step up their game.

The match resumed with the corner kick. Amelia watched intently as the ball arced into the air, her body tensed for action. This time, her defenders were quicker, more aggressive in their approach. They managed to clear the ball effectively, pushing it out of the danger zone.

11’ ANOTHER GREAT STOP! The game intensified as Thunderlane found space, slicing down the left flank with remarkable speed and agility. His movement was fluid, almost ghostlike, as he effortlessly latched onto a beautifully chipped pass from Vinyl. With the defence stretched thin and scrambling to regroup, Thunderlane capitalised on the moment, sending a lofted delivery arching towards the far post.

Scootaloo, anticipating the cross, positioned herself perfectly. The ball seemed destined for her, hanging in the air like a promise as she timed her jump. The crowd held its breath, and for a split second, it seemed inevitable—a goal was surely on the way. Scootaloo met the ball with a powerful header, directing it towards the target with all the confidence of a seasoned forward who believes the net is theirs.

But Amelia was not to be beaten easily. Her anticipation and agility shone brightly as she made a split-second decision to launch herself across the goal. With a spectacular dive, she stretched her body to its limits, her gloved hands reaching out to meet the ball, sending it passed the goalposts, making it another corner.

Scootaloo, visibly agitated, turned away from the goal, her frustration boiling over. She had been so sure of scoring, the opportunity had seemed like a sure thing, and her inability to convert it into a goal grated on her. Clenching her jaw, she kicked at the ground, her ears pinned back as she replayed the moment in her mind. It wasn't just a missed opportunity; it was a challenge to her skill and precision, both of which she prided herself on. She shook her head, trying to dispel the disappointment that threatened to affect her focus for the rest of the game.

Meanwhile, back at the goal, Amelia was surrounded by her teammates, their cheers and enthusiastic pats conveying their admiration and relief. "Great save, Amelia! You really saved us there!" one exclaimed, while another added, "That was incredible, way to keep us in this!" Their voices filled the air with a mixture of relief and excitement, boosting the team's morale significantly.

Amelia's heart swelled with the support and accolades from her teammates, each shout and pat reinforcing her role as a crucial player on the team. The intensity of the moment had amped up her adrenaline, and now, with the immediate pressure eased slightly, she took the time to absorb the scene around her.

Off to the sidelines, Applebloom was practically vibrating with excitement, her movements animated as she chatted with Applejack, who was grinning broadly, obviously pleased with the performance of the team—and particularly with Amelia's standout save. Their expressions were a vivid contrast to Duster’s, whose stern demeanour hadn't changed. His arms remained firmly crossed, his gaze sharp and unyielding as he watched Amelia closely, assessing every nuance of her performance.

Amelia caught Duster’s eye for a moment, and despite the lack of expression on his face, she felt a challenge emanating from him. It was clear that Duster was still reserving judgment, his high standards and critical eye pushing her to prove herself further. This recognition didn't deflate her; rather, it fuelled her desire to demonstrate her capability, not just as a goalkeeper but as a resilient competitor under scrutiny.

23’ GOOOOOOOOOOOOALLLLLLL! The game escalated quickly as the Bibs team executed a stunning display of teamwork and precision, taking the lead in the match. The None-Bibs defence struggled to keep up with the swift movements and clever plays of their opponents.

Octavia, known for her tactical awareness and precision, initiated the play with a sharp diagonal pass that cut through the midfield, finding Vinyl on the move. Vinyl, always aware and ready, deftly offloaded the ball to Thunderlane who was charging down the flank in an impressive display of speed and timing.

Thunderlane, with his signature agility as a pegasus, dashed toward the byline, his eyes scanning the situation ahead. Without slowing down, he managed a skilful left-footed cross into the area, arcing the ball towards the far post where Scootaloo was perfectly positioned to meet it.

Scootaloo, timing her run with precision, leapt up and met the cross with a decisive header. Amelia, the goalkeeper, who had been anticipating a different play, found herself too far from the post to intercept the ball. The header sailed past her, landing securely in the back of the empty net. The Bibs erupted into cheers as Scootaloo celebrated her goal, her teammates rushing to congratulate her on the well-executed finish.

Amelia quickly set the ball back at the centre spot, her voice loud and clear, carrying across the field as she rallied her team. "Come on! Let’s get our heads up! We still have time!" Her tone was firm, imbued with the urgency and leadership needed to refocus the team. As her teammates regrouped, their faces reflecting the mix of frustration and renewed determination, Amelia continued to offer quick nods and pointed gestures, signalling tactical shifts and positioning adjustments.

Her resolve was palpable, visibly infecting her team with a much-needed jolt of confidence. She paced briefly in front of her goal, her eyes scanning the field and her teammates, assessing their setup and mentally preparing for the next Bibs assault. Knowing the Bibs' capability for swift, incisive attacks, she shouted instructions to her defenders, emphasising tighter marking and better communication.

"Stay tight on them! Watch the overlaps!" she instructed, pointing to areas where the Bibs had exploited their defence. Her defenders nodded, adjusting their stances and positioning, ready to intercept or challenge more effectively.

As play resumed, Amelia's heightened vigilance was evident. She adjusted her stance, staying on her toes, ready to spring into action. Her eyes constantly moved, watching not only the ball but also the players' movements, predicting possible plays, and preparing herself to counter them.

The game's pace intensified, with the None-Bibs pushing forward to equalise and the Bibs looking to capitalise on their momentum. Amelia's voice was a constant, guiding her team, her calls clear and commanding. Every save she made now was met with cheers from the sidelines, her earlier save not forgotten, adding to the team’s motivation.

27’ SAVE! The Bibs were relentless in their offensive strategy, and their third corner of the game came about after a slick maneuver from Vinyl. She made a smooth, gliding run along the left flank, skillfully navigating through the None-bib's defense. Her agility and control over the ball were evident, keeping the defenders at bay and eventually forcing them to block her path, resulting in the ball going out for a corner.

Opting for a tactical variation, Octavia and Vinyl executed a short corner routine. Octavia tapped the ball to Vinyl, who had positioned herself cleverly just outside the box. Vinyl took the pass in stride and immediately fired a right-footed shot towards goal. Her attempt, however, took a deflection off a defender, altering its trajectory slightly.

Amelia, vigilant in her goalkeeping duties, reacted swiftly to the unexpected change in the ball's path. Her anticipation and reflexes were put to the test as she dove to her right, managing to get her hands on the ball and parry it behind for another corner. Her save was not just a display of her skill but also a critical intervention that kept her team in the game, preventing the Bibs from capitalising on their strategic play.

The crowd and her teammates acknowledged Amelia's prowess with shouts of encouragement and applause, recognising the pressure under which she was performing, especially given the tensions with Minuette that could potentially distract from her focus. Despite this, Amelia remained composed and ready, adjusting her stance and preparing for the next corner, her eyes scanning the field and communicating quickly with her defenders to organise them for the upcoming set piece.

31’ SAVE! As the match continued, Thunderlane showcased his agility and tactical awareness on the field. Despite being faced with three defenders from the None-bibs, he skillfully managed to maintain possession and find a sliver of space. With a deft touch, he squeezed a precise pass through to Octavia, who was positioned near the midfield, before darting forward, drawing the attention of the None-bibs defenders towards him.

This strategic movement by Thunderlane effectively disrupted the defensive setup of the None-bibs, pulling players out of position and creating a valuable opening. As he drew defenders away, he opened up space for Big Mac, who had smartly positioned himself just outside the penalty area, ready to capitalise on any opportunity.

Seizing the moment, Big Mac received a quick pass and took a chance with a powerful low shot aimed at the goal. His execution was clean, and the shot was well-timed, but Amelia, the None-bibs goalkeeper, was prepared. Demonstrating her keen sense of positioning and quick reflexes, Amelia got down swiftly to her right, her gloves securely wrapping around the ball to make a crucial save.

Amelia’s hold on the shot prevented a rebound, ensuring that the play ended with her control. After securing the ball, she quickly rose to her feet, looking to restart play. Her save not only thwarted a scoring opportunity but also provided a momentary reprieve for the None-bibs to regroup defensively.

36’ CHANCE! As the game's intensity mounted, Big Mac seized a pivotal moment to exploit the space behind the None-bibs' defence. He noticed Scootaloo signalling for a deep pass and, with precision, sent a ball arching over the top, aimed perfectly for her well-timed run.

Scootaloo, with her eyes locked on the descending ball, accelerated, her strides quick and determined, as she prepared to engage in a one-on-one showdown with Amelia, the None-bibs goalkeeper. Amelia, recognising the imminent danger, swiftly evaluated her options and decided to confront the threat head-on. She dashed out of her box, her focus razor-sharp on intercepting the ball before Scootaloo could turn it into a scoring opportunity.

As the ball started to dip within reach, Amelia leaped forward, stretching her body to execute a header, since using her hands outside the penalty area would result in a foul. She connected solidly, sending the ball sideways towards the touchline, effectively thwarting the attack.

However, the intensity of the moment didn't end with the clearance. Scootaloo, running at full tilt and perhaps frustrated by the missed opportunity, arrived a fraction of a second later. Instead of pulling up, she leaned into Amelia with a firm shoulder shove, an act of frustration more than aggression, which knocked Amelia off balance.

The two collided heavily on the pitch, the impact echoing the competitive tension of the match. They both hit the ground, and a tense moment followed as they untangled themselves. Amelia, feeling the brunt of the shove, quickly got to her feet, confronting Scootaloo with a mix of frustration and defiance.

"What was that for?" Amelia demanded, her tone sharp, her hands gesturing to emphasise her irritation.

Scootaloo, still seething from the denied chance, shot back, "You gotta watch where you're going! This isn't just your pitch!"

Their teammates, sensing the rising tension, quickly intervened. Some pulled Amelia back slightly, urging her to cool down, while others approached Scootaloo to do the same.

44’ CHANCE! During a critical phase of the game, Minuette found herself under intense pressure, positioned in a challenging 2v1 situation. Vinyl, with her known agility and flair, was charging down the left side with the ball at her feet, while Carrot Top lurked dangerously close, ready to exploit any opening. This setup posed a significant threat to the None-bibs’ goal, which was currently under the vigilant guard of Amelia.

As Vinyl advanced with a determined run towards the goal, her intent clear, Minuette had to make a split-second decision. Calculating her position and the potential risks, Minuette opted to press Vinyl aggressively, hoping to force an error or at least disrupt her rhythm. Her approach was tactical; by closing down the space quickly, she aimed to cut off Vinyl's angle for a clean shot.

Vinyl, feeling the pressure from Minuette, attempted to manoeuvre around her, looking for just enough space to unleash a shot towards the goal. With limited options due to Minuette's tight marking, Vinyl fired off a powerful strike. However, the shot, although well-intended, struck the crossbar with a resounding clang, ricocheting over the goal and out for a throw-in to the None-bibs.

From her position in goal, Amelia had been tracking the play closely, ready to intervene if Vinyl's shot had been on target. Witnessing Minuette’s effective handling of such a high-pressure situation, Amelia couldn't help but shout her praise, "Well done, Minuette! Great pressure!"

However, the moment of team camaraderie was short-lived. As Amelia's commendation echoed across the pitch, Minuette turned sharply towards her, her expression cold and eyes narrowed. Her glare was a clear signal of the unresolved tension between them. The silent message was unmistakable: Minuette was not there to make friends, especially not in the middle of a heated game where every play could turn the tide.

The glare sent a chill through the air, momentarily silencing Amelia. Taken aback by the hostility, Amelia’s initial impulse to continue cheering faltered, and she quickly refocused on the game, her expression turning serious. The exchange, though brief, was a stark reminder of the personal issues that lingered beneath the surface, adding an extra layer of complexity to their teamwork.

As play resumed with the throw-in, both Amelia and Minuette returned their attention to the game, each aware that despite personal grievances, the team’s success was the priority. However, the incident left a palpable tension, a reminder that their team dynamics were still a work in progress.

Watching Minuette in action during the first half also shifted something in Amelia's perspective. Though Minuette often came across as brash and impatient, her play on the field told a different story. As a Defensive Midfielder, Minuette exhibited a patience that belied her outward demeanour, timing her tackles with a precision that was crucial for their defence. "She’s amazing too." Amelia admitted quietly to herself, recognising the skill and calm strategy Minuette brought to their game, crucial elements that often went unnoticed amidst her more visible intensity.

Half Time!

Chapter 9 - Bibs Vs Non-Bibs. (Full-Time)

With the half-time whistle signalling a brief reprieve, Amelia found herself gasping for breath, her heart thudding loudly against her chest. She hustled over to join the circle where her teammates were quickly gulping down water, their bodies slick with sweat and exhaustion.

"We've still got loads of time to snag a goal, just need to keep pressing and wait for our moment." Lyra encouraged, her hands animated as she tried to lift the group's spirits.

"Yeah, they're likely to hog the ball—credit Big Mac and Thunderlane for that—so let's not rush things. We'll hang back and pounce on their errors." Braeburn suggested cautiously, stroking his chin thoughtfully as he laid out a strategy.

"That’s solid, but even playing it cool, we gotta keep tabs on Scootaloo and Vinyl. They’re just too dangerous," Cherry Berry chimed in, her tone serious, pointing towards where the two threats roamed the field.

"I can handle Vinyl on my own; that unicorn won't get past me, you'll see." Minuette asserted confidently, arms crossed defiantly, her stance firm and challenging. Amelia, however, had her reservations.

"Maybe you should keep an eye on Scootaloo? She's playing as a false nine, after all—she's the one who would set up the plays." Amelia interjected, her voice wavering slightly under the collective gaze of her teammates. She fidgeted with her gloves, feeling suddenly exposed.

"Are you questioning me, cabrón?" Minuette’s voice was sharp, her eyebrows knitted together in a frown as she stepped closer to Amelia, her body tense with irritation.

Realising the tension her comment had stirred, Amelia stepped back, raising her hands in a placating gesture.

"Okay, shutting up now…" she muttered, her eyes darting away, seeking refuge in the calm before they were called back to the fray.

Minuette rolled her eyes with an exasperated snarl as she stood in the huddle, the team circled around her, all of them sweating and panting from the first half. Everyone was clutching water bottles, taking greedy gulps between breaths. "Haven't you noticed, amigo? Scootaloo hasn't created a single chance this game; she's all set up as a traditional striker, going for the goals, you know?" she pointed out forcefully, wiping a bead of sweat from her brow. Her hand gestured emphatically towards an imaginary pitch as she continued, "It's Vinyl, Thunderlane, and Octavia who are pulling the strings, amigo. If we shut them down, Scootaloo will be totally useless."

Amelia stood slightly apart from the rest of the group, her expression focused and introspective as she mentally replayed the first half's key moments. With a deep furrow etching her brow, she took a thoughtful sip from her water bottle, a flicker of realisation crossing her face. She had completely misjudged Scootaloo’s role; she had always seen her as a false 9, a creator rather than the finisher she had demonstrated herself to be in this friendly match. Watching Scootaloo dart and weave across the field with such rapidity and agility, Amelia felt a complicated blend of emotions swell within her.

"For someone so young to adapt between roles like that." Amelia murmured to herself, the awe in her voice mingling with a hint of trepidation, "is both impressive and intimidating." Her eyes followed Scootaloo's confident, fluid movements, noting how each stride and manoeuvre spoke of a seasoned striker, not just a playmaker. "She’s definitely a bigger threat than I anticipated." Amelia conceded quietly, reassessing her strategy for the second half as she capped her water bottle, her mind racing with adjustments she’d need to make to counter such a versatile adversary.

Amelia’s grin widened into a radiant smile, lighting up her face as her eyes sparkled with a mix of glee and fierce determination. She leaned in closer to the animated circle of teammates, her hands gesturing enthusiastically as she absorbed the flurry of tactical advice being volleyed back and forth. A wild surge of adrenaline pulsed through her, each beat of her heart syncing with the escalating excitement for the challenge ahead. The prospect of facing Scootaloo, a striker whose skill rivalled the familial challenges posed by her brother, brought a visceral thrill that coursed through her entire being. This game was far from just another friendly match; it was a profound test of her skills, pushing her to the limits of her capabilities as a goalkeeper.

From the corner of her eye, Amelia observed Scootaloo interacting with her teammates. Scootaloo’s movements were fluid and poised, her confidence evident in every step and gesture as she laughed and strategised with her peers. The sight of her so effortlessly commanding the field stirred a whirlpool of emotions within Amelia—deep admiration tinged with a hint of envy at Scootaloo’s natural aptitude for the game. Amelia’s feelings oscillated between a slight bitterness over her rival’s innate talent and a profound respect for her prowess. This internal conflict only fuelled Amelia’s resolve to excel, to prove herself not just competent but exceptional. This was not merely a game; it was a catalyst that ignited Amelia's passion for hoofball, transforming each anticipated save and leap across the goal into pivotal moments of a thrilling battle for supremacy.

"Hey—Amelia." The unexpected sound of a voice cut through the din of halftime chatter, causing Amelia to spin around, abruptly pulled from her intense thoughts. There, standing slightly behind her, was Derpy, her eyes wide and a hint of apprehension visible beneath the uncertain smile she offered. It was clear that Amelia's intense, excited grin had caught her off-guard.

"Uhm, I just wanna say good job. You kept us in the game." Derpy said, her voice soft and tentative as she reached out, gently touching Amelia's arm in a comforting gesture.

"Yeah, no problem, just focus on the counter-attack and I’m sure we’ll get a goal." Amelia responded with an encouraging nod and a thumbs-up, her smile warm and genuine, designed to instil confidence. Derpy returned the smile, but it didn't quite reach her eyes—it was a quick, fleeting mimicry of happiness that didn't fool Amelia. Yet before Amelia could delve deeper into what might be bothering her teammate, she turned away, striding back towards her position as the whistle beckoned them for the second half. Her mind now refocused on the game, the complexity of her teammate’s emotions had to wait as the immediate challenge of the match reclaimed her attention.

As Amelia positioned herself within the frame of her goal, she methodically performed some final stretches, her hands reaching toward the crossbar as she limbered up. Her gaze occasionally drifted towards the field, particularly focusing on Octavia. Throughout the game, Octavia had seemed unusually subdued. Known for her role as the right-winger with a deadly first touch, Octavia's usual flair and threat on the ball had been conspicuously absent. She had made a few passes here and there, but none had carried her signature menace. Amelia pondered this anomaly, her mind racing through possibilities. Was it a tactical decision? Could the opposing coach be saving Octavia's energy and skills for a more aggressive push in the second half?

The thought caused a ripple of concern. If Octavia were to unleash her full potential in the latter half, Amelia would need to contend with threats from all angles, a daunting prospect that could stretch her defensive capabilities to the limit. Yet, as she stretched her calves, preparing her body and mind for the onslaught, a resolute spark lit within her. Regardless of the strategy her opponents employed, Amelia resolved to be ready. She adjusted her gloves, setting her stance with determined eyes on the field, ready to face whatever challenge came her way.

Over on the sidelines, Applejack and Grind Duster stood with their arms crossed, their gazes fixed on the goal where Amelia was limbering up. The atmosphere between them was charged with attentive scrutiny.

"So what do you think? Not bad for a pegasus, ay?" Applejack remarked, nodding towards Amelia with a hint of pride in her voice as she watched the young pegasus goalkeeper stretch and prepare. Amelia's agility and quick reflexes, even in her warm-up, were clearly impressive.

Grind Duster, however, was silent, his brow furrowed in concentration. He wasn’t just watching Amelia; he was studying her, trying to decode the patterns behind her movements. At the moment, she seemed to be everywhere—her positioning unpredictable, her decisions rapid and seemingly instinctual. Duster found himself unable to predict her next move or to gauge what might be going through her mind as she vigilantly guarded the goal.

His eyes narrowed slightly as he continued to observe, the cogs in his mind turning. Duster's silence was heavy with analysis, reflecting his deep contemplation over whether to be intrigued by Amelia's unconventional style or concerned by the unpredictability it brought to the game. Either way, Amelia's performance was drawing attention, setting the stage for an intriguing second half.

Applebloom's voice burst through the quiet contemplation of the sidelines, her tone filled with enthusiasm and a touch of awe. "Amelia was awesome! Even though they did manage to score past her once, but Amelia couldn’t do much about that." Her eyes sparkled with admiration as she watched Amelia manoeuvre within the goal, her energetic statement cutting through the tactical musings of Applejack and Grind Duster.

Grind Duster's response was more measured, his voice a low murmur as he stroked his white beard thoughtfully. "She's fearless, that's one thing, and she has a decent understanding of the game, but she is also reckless." His eyes tracked Amelia's movements closely, reflecting on a particularly risky play.

"When Scootaloo was through on goal, Amelia ran straight for the ball in mid-air, colliding with Scootaloo in the process." he continued, his tone tinged with concern. "Somepony could have been seriously hurt."

"Yeah… It was odd that she decided to come out for the ball; every other keeper would have stayed in the net, protecting the goal… She must have some nerve to do that." Applejack remarked, a hint of skepticism mingling with her concern as she questioned Amelia's decision during that critical play.

"Well… think about it," Applebloom interjected, her youthful voice carrying a tone of reasoned analysis as she glanced down at her clipboard, searching for the notes she had jotted down. "At the time of the ball being played over the defence’s high line, Amelia was already outside the box, positioning herself to collect through balls passed the defence. She had two options: risk backtracking to goal where it would have been a 1 on 1, or use her Pegasus speed to her advantage and get to the ball first." Applebloom looked up from her clipboard, her eyes alight with admiration for the risky manoeuvre.

"Amelia was extremely brave to chase the ball the way she did, one wrong move and it would have been an open net goal for Scootaloo." she concluded, her analysis highlighting the tactical gamble involved in Amelia's decision. Duster nodded silently, making a mental note to look over Applebloom’s notes.

Duster mused quietly to himself, his gaze lingering on Amelia as she prepared for the next play. "She has a lot of confidence for a young pegasus. Where does she get it from?" he wondered aloud, his voice tinged with both admiration and curiosity.

"So young, yet has the hand of Karma; I didn’t have those hands until I was in my twenties." he continued, his expression thoughtful as he considered Amelia's remarkable skills in goal. His brow furrowed slightly, reflecting the depth of his pondering. "So what makes her so special? Why a pegasus?" Duster's questions hung in the air, echoing the enigma surrounding Amelia's innate talent and her unusual choice for a goalkeeper, given her species' typical attributes.

"All questions with no answers, what a pain." he sighed, his words captured the intrigue and slight frustration of trying to decode the secret behind Amelia's exceptional abilities and her bold, confident approach to the game at such a young age.

45’ second half starts!

As the second half commenced, Amelia instantly noticed a marked change in the game's tempo. Within the first few seconds, her team's intensity had noticeably ramped up, catching the Bibs off guard. The sudden surge of energy from the non-Bibs team as they pressed forward on the attack momentarily stunned their opponents, setting a vigorous and aggressive tone right from the restart.

Amelia watched from her position in goal as her teammates hustled and harried every opposing player who touched the ball, their renewed vigour disrupting the Bibs' rhythm and forcing them into hurried decisions. The sharp escalation in her team's play brought a satisfied nod from Amelia. This was exactly the kind of aggressive start she had hoped for, and seeing it unfold so effectively bolstered her confidence. It was a good start indeed, and in Amelia's books, a sign of promising things to come in the half ahead.

47’ GREAT CHANCE! Minuette showcased her skills brilliantly, weaving her way out of the defensive zone with composure. With a swift exchange, she played a give-and-go with Apple Cobbler, smoothly moving the ball up the field with practiced ease. After linking up with Apple Cobbler, she spotted Berry Punch making a run to her left and delivered a precise pass that set her up perfectly.

Berry Punch took the opportunity to cut the ball back toward the edge of the penalty box, finding Derpy in an ideal position to take a shot. Derpy received the ball well, setting herself for the finish. Despite the promising buildup, her shot was awkward, lacking the finesse needed to find the back of the net, and ultimately, it drifted wide of Caramel’s goal. The sequence, while not yielding a goal, highlighted the team's fluid teamwork and tactical execution, even if the final touch was lacking.

54’ HOW HAS HE MISSED?! The non-Bibs team earned themselves a corner on the right-hand side, setting up an opportunity to level the score. Daisy took charge of the set piece, opting for a low, driven delivery into the crowded penalty area. The ball zipped across the turf, causing a moment of chaos as the Bibs' defenders scrambled to clear their lines. However, their attempt to clear the danger only sent the ball as far as Lyra, who was positioned just outside the box.

Reacting quickly, Lyra took a powerful shot, aiming to penetrate the cluster of players. Her attempt ricocheted off a green shirt, deflecting the ball into a more promising position. It fell kindly for Braeburn, who found himself unmarked just to the right of the goal. With the goal at his mercy, he quickly fired a shot, but his finish was disappointing. The ball sailed harmlessly away from the goal, failing to test Caramel, the goalkeeper.

Amelia stood at the edge of her goal area, her fists clenched tightly as another attack fizzled out in front of her. Her frustration was palpable—these were opportunities that should have been converted, clear chances to put her team ahead. Although it was aggravating to watch such potential go to waste, she could not help but feel a hint of relief; the intensity her teammates exhibited was a promising sign. They were pressing hard, and with the current pace and relentless pressure, Amelia felt a goal was imminent.

Amid the mounting tension, Amelia's keen awareness of the game's dynamics spurred her into action. She recognised the vulnerability that came with their aggressive play. Raising her voice, she called out to her defenders, urging them to maintain their high line but to stay vigilant. "Watch the high line! Stay sharp!" she shouted, ensuring her instructions cut through the noise of the stadium.

Her directive was clear: they held the upper hand for now, but a single misstep—a careless pass or a mistimed tackle—could swing the momentum in favour of their opponents. Amelia knew all too well how quickly control of the match could slip away, and she was determined to keep her team focused and defensively sound as they hunted for that crucial goal.

Suddenly, her attention snapped to a new development on the field. Octavia was subtly positioning herself among the center-backs, a strategic move that didn't escape Amelia's vigilant eyes. Just ahead, Scootaloo was poised, facing Octavia, looking ready to spring into action. The pair's positioning and focused demeanour hinted at a planned play that was about to unfold.

Amelia's gut churned with a mix of anticipation and concern. What were they planning? Her instincts told her it wouldn't be good for her team. As she adjusted her stance, ready to react, her eyes darted between the players, trying to anticipate their next moves.

55’ GGGGOOOOOOOAAAALLLLLL! 2-0! In an exhilarating sequence of play, the goalkeeper launched a powerful kick deep into the midfield, directly targeting Octavia. Her robust earth pony strength proved invaluable as she fended off Meadow Song, securing the first touch on the descending ball. Octavia's flawless control allowed her to swiftly tap it off to Scootaloo, who was strategically positioned nearby.

Scootaloo caught sight of Vinyl sprinting into open space and executed a masterful pass using the outside of her boot. The ball spun beautifully, curling directly into Vinyl's path, setting her up for an impressive advance. Minuette was quick on her heels, attempting to thwart Vinyl's charge. However, Vinyl's agile footwork and a series of sharp stepovers left Minuette trailing, giving Vinyl just enough time to eye her next move.

Vinyl spotted Thunderlane near the edge of the penalty box and slipped him the ball. Without hesitation, Thunderlane took the shot first-time. The ball rocketed toward the goal with such force that even Lyra and Comet Tail, who threw themselves in an attempt to block it, couldn't alter its course. The shot flew towards the bottom left corner, the goalkeeper Amelia stretched to her limits, fingertips grazing the ball. Her touch redirected it slightly, causing it to ricochet off the post. Despite Amelia's desperate dive, the ball bounced into the back of the net, culminating in a spectacular goal.

Frustration seethed through Amelia as she pounded her fist against the astroturf, her expression one of pure vexation. "Damn it!" she growled audibly, the anger palpable in her voice. She had been agonisingly close to stopping that shot, her fingertips barely brushing against the ball, yet not enough to divert its path decisively. Such goals were her nemesis—those that teased her grasp, leaving her with the haunting sense that she could have altered the outcome. Each time the ball found the net in this manner, it ignited a fire within her, a fervent reminder of the razor-thin line between a save and a goal. As she pushed herself up, her determination hardened; this moment of defeat would only fuel her resolve to stop the next one.

All throughout the game, Amelia had been keenly observing her opponents' positioning, particularly noting Big Mac and Thunderlane's tactical play. Both players consistently positioned themselves on the edge of the box during the final third, strategically waiting for any loose balls to emerge that they could quickly turn into shooting opportunities. Although ideally, the midfielder should have been marking them, the rapid pace of the counterattacks often left little time for proper defensive alignment.

Thunderlane, in particular, showcased his striking prowess with a powerful and low shot that was tremendously difficult to execute. His ability to fire such forceful long-range shots reminded Amelia of a former Liverpool legend, Steven Gerrard, known for his own spectacular strikes from distance. Thunderlane's technique and precision in those critical moments not only challenged Amelia but also elevated the threat level every time he was in possession near the goal area.

As the teams regrouped to restart the match, Scootaloo couldn’t help but let a smug grin creep across her face. Walking back to her position, she glanced over her shoulder, catching Amelia’s eye. Her grin, self-satisfied and taunting, was like salt in the wound for Amelia.

Amelia's face flushed with anger at the sight, her frustration from the goal compounded by Scootaloo's gloating expression. The goalkeeper’s hands clenched into fists at her sides, her breathing heavy. The sight of Scootaloo’s smirking face not only fuelled her anger but also ignited a fierce determination within her to not let any more goals slip past. As the game resumed, Amelia’s eyes narrowed, her focus sharpened—this match was far from over, and she was ready to prove her mettle.

62’ DOUBLE BLOCK! The game's intensity escalated as Octavia whipped in a dangerous cross from the flank, aiming to disrupt the defensive structure. However, Comet Tail was quick to react, leaping to intercept the ball with a critical header. Unfortunately, his attempt at clearing the ball didn't travel far enough to alleviate the danger. Instead, it fell perfectly to Big Mac, who was lurking just outside the box, ready to capitalise on such opportunities.

With little time to adjust his stance, Big Mac fired a swift shot towards goal. Meadow Song, recognising the imminent threat, lunged forward in a desperate bid to block it. His effort was successful, and the ball deflected off him, only to fall into the path of Thunderlane. Without hesitation, Thunderlane unleashed a follow-up shot, trying to catch the goalkeeper off guard.

Meadow Song, still recovering from his initial block, threw himself in front of the shot with remarkable bravery and determination. His body hit the ground just as Thunderlane's shot connected, significantly dampening the ball's momentum and allowing the defence a crucial moment to regroup and clear the danger.

67’ GREAT CHANCE! As the match continued, the team in bibs began to dominate, relentlessly pressing the non-bibs and dictating the pace of the game. In a particularly aggressive attack, Bon Bon leaped high, meeting a cross with a powerful header. However, her effort was deflected by a defender, arching away from the goal and out for a corner kick.

Noteworthy stepped up to take the resulting corner, opting for an out-swinger that arced temptingly into the box. The ball swirled through the air, meeting a cluster of players jostling for position. Despite the promising delivery, the defence stood firm, managing to clear the ball out of the immediate danger area.

The clearance, however, didn't travel far enough to relieve the pressure. It landed just outside the box where Scootaloo was perfectly positioned. Without a moment's hesitation, she took the shot on the volley, her technique flawless as she struck the ball cleanly. The shot soared powerfully towards the goal, capturing the essence of precision and timing in her strike. Unfortunately, it just missed its mark, rising slightly too high and whisking over the crossbar.

71’ PENALTY! In a tense moment deep within their own half, Apple Cobbler attempted a critical pass back toward the safety of her penalty area. Unfortunately, the pass lacked the necessary strength and precision, instead falling short and setting the stage for a dramatic shift in the game's momentum. Thunderlane, quick to exploit any mistake, pounced on the opportunity, darting forward to intercept the poorly judged pass.

As Thunderlane bore down on the ball, Meadow Song found herself in a precarious position, forced to deal with the immediate threat inside her own box. The pressure from Thunderlane was intense, and in a desperate bid to contain the situation, Meadow Song reached out, grappling with Thunderlane in an attempt to halt his progress. Her actions, however, were too forceful and clear within the confines of the penalty area, pulling Thunderlane down and prompting the Applejack to point to the penalty spot.

Amelia was visibly agitated as she debated the referee's call with Applejack, arguing that the foul Meadow Song committed on Thunderlane was too soft to justify a penalty. "It was a soft foul, shouldn’t have been a penalty!" Amelia insisted, her frustration evident as she gestured toward the spot where the foul occurred.

Applejack, maintaining a stoic expression, disagreed but kept her true intentions to herself. Internally, she saw this as a perfect test of Amelia’s capabilities under pressure, curious to see how the goalkeeper would handle such a critical moment. However, she chose not to voice this thought. "It looked clear enough from here!" Applejack countered firmly, avoiding any indication of her underlying motive. "You just focus on the save. You've got this."

Amelia, not one to shy away from mental games, decided that if a penalty was to be taken against her, she'd make every effort to disrupt the shooter's composure. Seeing Scootaloo stepping up to take the shot, she couldn't help but unleash a bit of mischief to tilt the odds in her favor.

With a wicked grin, Amelia approached Scootaloo at the penalty spot. She leaned in close, her voice dripping with mock curiosity and challenge. "So, which side will you go for?" she taunted. Amelia then boldly announced her own intentions, "I'll be diving right, just so you know." She watched Scootaloo closely, gauging her reaction before pushing further. "You sure you're up for this?" Amelia prodded, her tone edging on playful arrogance.

Taking her psychological game one step further, Amelia pointed decisively at Thunderlane, adding a taunt aimed to undermine Scootaloo's confidence. "Maybe Thunderlane should take it instead. I want a real challenge!" she declared, loud enough for others to hear, injecting doubt and stirring the competitive spirit.

Scootaloo's frustration peaked as she responded not with words, but with a shove, pushing Amelia back with her hands—an indication that Amelia's tactics might have hit the mark.

Seeing the tension escalate, Applejack hurried over to defuse the situation. She firmly separated the two, her demeanour serious and authoritative. "Enough, both of you. Let's get on with the game." Applejack insisted, ensuring that the game's integrity and flow remained intact. Her intervention was timely, preventing further conflict and setting the stage for the penalty to be taken, with all eyes now on Scootaloo and Amelia as the duel at the spot was about to unfold.

Amelia's attempts to disrupt Scootaloo's focus seemed to falter against the younger player's calm demeanour. In the quiet of the training ground, surrounded by the attentive eyes of staff, coaches, and media, Scootaloo displayed a poise that belied her years. Taking a deep breath to centre herself, she methodically placed the ball on the penalty spot. This simple act seemed to fortify her resolve, grounding her in the moment despite the psychological games at play.

With the ball set, Scootaloo took a few deliberate steps back, her eyes alternating between Amelia, poised and ready in goal, and the net behind her. The tension was palpable, yet her calmness infused the scene with a sense of serenity. It was clear that she was visualising the path she wanted the ball to take, mentally rehearsing the shot before physically executing it.

This focus and preparation were crucial, especially in such an intimate setting where every move was closely watched and would likely be analysed later. The quiet encouragement from her coaches and the occasional click of cameras added layers to the moment, making it about more than just a training exercise. This was a test of skill, nerve, and mental strength, with Amelia ready to respond in kind from her position on the goal line.

In that drawn-out moment, as Scootaloo lined up for the penalty, Amelia's world narrowed down to the stretch of turf between them. The statistics ran through her mind: a mere 33.3% chance of saving the goal if she guessed correctly, a sobering reality of her slim odds. But her earlier tactics might have paid off, planting the seed in Scootaloo's mind to attempt a panenka, a bold and somewhat mocking choice, chipping the ball right down the centre. This could be Scootaloo’s way to assert dominance, to turn the psychological warfare back on Amelia with a show of cheeky confidence.

Yet, the possibility that Scootaloo would revert to a straightforward powerful strike to her right—the natural choice for a right-footed player—lingered in Amelia’s calculations. This would be the safer, more predictable shot, possibly chosen to mask any underlying nerves.

Amid these tactical assessments, Vinyl’s mysterious gesture added a layer of intrigue. Her wink and the subtle point to Amelia’s left could be genuine insider information, an unexpected assist from an unlikely quarter. However, it could just as easily be a ruse, a deliberate ploy to mislead Amelia and ensure Scootaloo’s success. Why would Vinyl, not her teammate, offer any hint at all unless it was a trick?

As Scootaloo took her final preparatory breaths, Amelia had to make a decision. The odds, the potential strategies, and Vinyl's confounding interference swirled in her mind. Was it a double bluff, or a straightforward hint? Amelia's response would need to be a blend of instinct, psychological insight, and bold guessing. With the pressure at its peak, she centred herself, ready to make a leap not just of physical agility but of strategic faith. Whatever her choice, it was a gamble on her ability to read the situation, the players, and perhaps most crucially, her own resolve in the face of mind games now turned against her. The whistle blew, shrinking the world to just the ball, the goal, and her decision on where to dive.

So what’s its gonna be?

Trust Vinyl and dive left?

Choose the safest option and dive right?

Or stay centre for the Penanka?

You choose!

—————————————————

Best playing it safe…

At the sound of Applejack's whistle, the moment everyone had been anticipating finally arrived. Scootaloo took a casual yet calculated jog toward the ball, embodying confidence. Each stride seemed to communicate her intentions to execute her choice with precision.

As Scootaloo approached, Amelia readied herself in the goal, her mind racing through the last-second guesswork of where the ball would be sent. All her focus narrowed to the young player's movements—her posture, her eyes, her striking foot, any tell that might give away her plan.

Scootaloo's approach was marked by a calculated nonchalance, her expression unreadable as she maintained a perfect poker face. This demeanour was strategically crafted to keep Amelia on edge, second-guessing Scootaloo's next move up to the very last second. As Scootaloo's foot made contact with the ball, Amelia exploded into action, using every ounce of her leg strength to dive to the right. However, her heart sank as she realised her mistake; Scootaloo had opted for a cheeky penanka, lofting the ball elegantly down the centre of the goal, well out of Amelia's desperate reach.

As the ball crossed the line, Scootaloo didn't hold back her delight, sprinting towards Amelia with a triumphant shout. She stopped short in front of the goalkeeper, her celebration overt and mocking. “Guess you picked the wrong side, huh?” she taunted, grinning broadly at Amelia's flustered reaction. The provocation was too much for Amelia, whose frustration boiled over. With a flash of anger, she grabbed Scootaloo by the collar, her voice thick with ire. “You want to mock me? Really think that’s smart?”

The scene quickly attracted a crowd; teammates and bystanders alike rushed over to defuse the tension, pulling the two apart amidst shouts of restraint. “Enough, both of you!” Applejack commanded sharply, echoing above the commotion.

72’ GGGGGGOOOOOOAAAAAALLLLLLLLL! 3-0! As Scootaloo approached the penalty spot, the tension was palpable. With a composed stride, she positioned herself, eyeing the goalkeeper and the goal with equal measure. In one fluid motion, she executed a cheeky panenka, effortlessly lobbing the ball down the centre as Amelia, anticipating a powerful shot to either corner, lunged decisively to her right.

The ball floated gently into the net, the very epitome of audacity and skill, as Scootaloo's teammates erupted in cheers. This bold move not only sent Amelia the wrong way but also widened the gap in the scoreline, making the Bibs team a commanding three goals clear.

81’ SAVE! In the midst of a heated and contentious phase of play, Octavia found herself in a prime position on the right side of the penalty box. With deft control and precision, she unleashed a powerful shot aimed low to the far corner, testing the goalkeeper's reflexes and resolve.

Amelia, the pegasus goalkeeper, showcased her agility and sharp instincts as she dove to her right. Stretching her wings and limbs to their fullest, she managed to get a strong hand to the ball, pushing it away from the danger area. Her remarkable save not only thwarted a near-certain goal but also kept her team in the game during a crucial moment.

The non-bibs team loudly protested for a foul they believed had occurred during the build-up to Octavia's shot. They argued vehemently, gesturing and pleading their case, but the referee, Applejack, was unmoved. She waved off the appeals, indicating that the play would continue without a call.

Amelia's save became even more significant given the controversy, proving to be a vital stop that maintained the balance of the match. Her ability to remain focused and effective under pressure was a testament to her skills and composure as a goalkeeper, ensuring that her team stayed competitive despite the challenges.

86’ SAVE! In a thrilling moment of defensive prowess, Amelia delivered a spectacular save that had the spectators on the edge of their seats. Big Mac, known for his powerful presence in the air, connected with a corner kick and sent a thunderous header rocketing toward the goal. The ball was destined for the back of the net, but Amelia had other plans.

With a burst of agility, she launched herself to the left, arms outstretched to their limits. The crowd held its breath as she made contact with the ball, her fingertips pushing it just wide of the post in a display of sheer goalkeeping brilliance.

Immediately following Amelia's heroic save, Meadow Song reacted quickly to clear the lingering danger. She volleyed the ball away from the crowded penalty area, ensuring that any follow-up attempts from the opposing team were thwarted. Her prompt clearance helped stabilise the situation, allowing her team to reset and organise defensively.

90+3’ OUTSTANDING TACKLE!!! As the game approached its climax, the tension on the field was palpable. The crowd was silent, every eye fixed on the unfolding drama. Octavia, known for her precision and quick thinking, spotted Scootaloo making a daring run towards the opposition's defence. With a swift exchange of passes, they executed a seamless 1-2 play. Octavia's initial pass cut sharply through the midfield, finding Scootaloo who momentarily held the ball, drawing the defenders towards her. With a deft touch, she returned it to Octavia, who flicked it right back over the defence, exploiting the space they had created.

Scootaloo, with her legendary speed, dashed past the defensive line, leaving Lyra—a typically fast defender—struggling to keep up. Her wings slightly unfurled, adding an extra burst of speed that no earth pony could match. Ahead lay only the goal, and Amelia, who had advanced slightly out of her box to narrow the angle of the shot.

Amelia’s determination was fierce; she had been bested before but was resolved not to let it happen again. Her focus sharpened to a razor's edge as Scootaloo bore down on her. Everything else faded into a blur—her only reality was the ball at Scootaloo's feet and the grass beneath their feet.

As Scootaloo approached, she cleverly manoeuvred the ball to her right with the outside of her boot, a typical setup for a finishing strike. Amelia, anticipating this, shifted her stance to intercept. However, a strange, distorted voice echoed in her mind: Faint… right… Mis—direction… Confused but instinctively trusting the warning, Amelia paused, holding her ground.

True to the voice's warning, Scootaloo suddenly flicked the ball to her left, attempting to bypass Amelia's anticipated dive. But Amelia, spurred by the mysterious advice, reacted swiftly. She thrust her foot out, catching the ball with a side-kick that not only cleared it from danger but also accidentally tripped Scootaloo in the process.

Scootaloo hit the turf with a mix of surprise and frustration, looking up at Amelia with wide eyes. "How did you know?" she gasped, bewildered by Amelia's uncanny anticipation.

Amelia, equally stunned by her own reaction and the unexplained guidance, could only shrug as she regained her stance. "I... I just did." she muttered, unsure herself, her eyes scanning the field as her teammates swiftly transitioned into a counter-attack.

Amelia stood a moment longer on the pitch, her mind racing as she processed the strange occurrence. The voice had been so clear, so distinct—it wasn't like anything she had experienced before. As the game resumed and her teammates rallied around her after the save, her thoughts lingered on the mysterious guidance.

Could it have been her subconscious? Perhaps, in the heat of the moment, her mind had synthesised her knowledge of Scootaloo's tactics and her observations of the game into a voice, guiding her instincts. It's not uncommon for athletes to experience heightened intuition during critical moments, where their senses sharpen, allowing them to perceive things they might not consciously notice.

Alternatively, the voice could be a manifestation of psychological stress. The pressure of the game, the fear of letting another goal slip past her—these could have conjured an auditory hallucination, a mental trick to cope with the high stakes. This phenomenon, while rare, is known to occur in situations of extreme stress or focus.

Regardless of the source, the voice had undoubtedly helped her make a pivotal play. It had preempted Scootaloo's misdirection, allowing Amelia to counteract a move that would have likely resulted in a goal. This incident, while puzzling, highlighted the depth of Amelia's mental and physical game—her ability to integrate cues, whether real or imagined, and use them to her advantage.

For now, Amelia decided to shelf these questions for later reflection. The immediate need was to maintain her focus on the game, keeping her goal secure. Yet, deep down, she knew this was a moment she would revisit, a curious and unexplained whisper that had made the difference between a save and a score. As she positioned herself for the next play, a part of her remained intrigued by the mystery, wondering if the voice would ever return or if it had been a fleeting gift delivered in her moment of need.

The whistle of the wind and the distant cheers seemed to drown out the lingering questions about the mysterious voice. For now, Amelia's focus returned to the game, leaving the enigma unsolved as play continued, her team pushing forward, energised by her critical save.

90+4’ GGGGGGGOOOOOAAAAAALLLLL!!! 3-1! The momentum shifted dramatically following Amelia's spectacular tackle, igniting a rapid counterattack by the non-bibs. Fuelled by the adrenaline of the save, Comet Tail seized the opportunity, darting down the right side of the pitch with the ball at his feet. His pace was unmatched as he linked up with Apple Cobbler near the halfway line, initiating a swift give-and-go. Apple Cobbler tapped the ball back into Comet Tail's path, allowing him to accelerate towards the goal.

However, Thunderlane quickly positioned himself to intercept, his presence a formidable barrier. Despite this, Comet Tail skilfully managed to whip a cross into the penalty area, bending it around Thunderlane's attempted block. The ball sailed towards the goal, creating a moment of chaos in the box.

Bon Bon, ever vigilant in defence, jumped high to meet the cross. With a powerful header, she redirected the ball out of the immediate danger area, but her clearance wasn't enough to send it clear of the threat. The ball landed just outside the penalty box, where Minuette was waiting, her expression one of fierce determination.

As the ball descended, Minuette locked her eyes on it, her focus intense. With a look of sheer resolve, she timed her approach perfectly, lifting her leg for a thunderous volley. The shot was executed with precision and power, soaring into the top right corner of the net. Caramel, the goalkeeper, made a desperate leap but had no chance to react; the ball was past him before he could fully extend his arms.

The goal, scored in the 94rd minute, was a dramatic punctuation to a tense match, bringing the score to 3-1. Minuette's late strike not only showcased her striking prowess but also capped off a swift and effective counterattack that began with Amelia's critical tackle, demonstrating the swift shifts in momentum that can define a hoofball game.

90+5’ THE FULL-TIME WHISTLE WAS BLOWN!

Exhausted and emotionally spent, Amelia remained on the ground, the cool night air brushing against her flushed cheeks as she gazed at the starlit sky. The final whistle's echo lingered in her ears, a solemn reminder of the game's outcome. Losing was tough, and admitting it was even tougher. She wasn't overtaken by anger or sadness, instead, a complex feeling of acceptance settled within her.

Throughout the game, Amelia had pushed herself to the limits. As a goalkeeper, she had made leaps and dives, each one a testament to her dedication and skill. Yet, despite her best efforts, it wasn't enough to secure a win. Her opponents, Vinyl, Octavia, and Thunderlane, had all performed exceptionally, their talents shining brightly on the field. And Scootaloo—undeniably the match's standout—had dazzled everyone, her prowess undeniable. It pained Amelia to admit how critical Scootaloo had been for the opposing team's success.

Amelia's thoughts drifted to Applejack, wondering if her performance had caught the coach's eye. She wasn't aiming for immediate stardom or a direct leap into professional football, but perhaps a spot in the academy, a chance to grow and prove her capabilities further. The uncertainty of what Applejack might decide hung over her like the stars above—bright but distant. Would Applejack see potential in her efforts, or would she dismiss them as insufficient for advancing further?

The possibility of being turned away weighed heavily on Amelia's mind. She hoped fervently that she had done enough to merit consideration, to be seen as more than just another player on the field. As she lay there, contemplating her future in the sport she loved, Amelia resolved to accept whatever came next. Whatever Applejack's decision, Amelia knew she had given her all, leaving nothing behind.

“Whew! What a game, huh?” A sudden scratchy voice said, the voice belonging to Vinyl.

Amelia turned her head toward the familiar voice, seeing Vinyl approach with an energetic stride, her face animated by the night's exploits. The corners of Amelia's mouth twitched upward in a faint smile, despite the ache in her chest from the loss.

"Yeah, definitely intense." Amelia responded, pushing herself up to a sitting position and brushing the grass off her uniform. Vinyl plopped down beside her, both looking up at the starry sky for a moment in shared silence.

"You were incredible out there." Vinyl added, nudging Amelia gently with her elbow. "Seriously, some of those saves? Out of this world."

Amelia let out a small, appreciative sigh, her gaze drifting from the stars back to Vinyl. "Thanks, Vinyl. Could have done more though." she said, the weight of the defeat momentarily lifting as she acknowledged the compliment.

Vinyl grinned, her eyes reflecting the night sky. "Don't sweat the scoreboard too much. You’ve shown everyone what you're capable of. Applejack would be nuts not to see that."

The encouragement helped ease some of Amelia's worries about her future prospects. "I hope so. Just gotta wait and see, I guess." she mused, her voice tinged with a mix of hope and uncertainty.

Lyra's voice cut through the night air, brimming with confidence and support, which brought a more genuine smile to Amelia's face. "Don't sweat it! You'll definitely join the Toffees!" she shouted, the excitement clear even as she wiped the sweat from her forehead.

Vinyl laughed, and Amelia looked up to see Lyra standing beside her, her stance buoyant despite the game's intensity.

"Thanks, Lyra. That means a lot." Amelia replied, her spirits lifted by the encouragement.

"Hey, with those moves today? They'd be lucky to have you." Lyra added, giving Amelia a reassuring pat on the back.

Octavia came over too, maintaining her composed, elegant demeanour despite the game's exertions, her voice carrying a refined British accent as she complimented the team's efforts. "Indeed, an outstanding display." she said, managing to look nearly as put-together as she did at the start of the match. However, her poised facade was playfully disrupted as Vinyl, ever the spirited contrast to Octavia's refinement, threw an arm around her neck and pulled her in close.

The sudden closeness and the casual disruption of her personal space made Octavia huff in mild annoyance, her usual grace momentarily overtaken by the unexpected embrace. "Vinyl, really." Octavia chided, her tone carrying a mix of reprimand and reluctant amusement. Her attempt to straighten herself and regain her composure only added to the charm of the situation.

Vinyl, with a wide grin, responded cheekily, "Lighten up, Octy! It's just a bit of fun after all that hard work!" She gave Octavia a gentle squeeze, emphasising her point.

Despite her initial resistance, Octavia's features softened, and a small, reluctant smile appeared on her face as she accepted the affectionate gesture. The playful exchange drew laughs from their teammates, highlighting the strong bonds and light-hearted moments that often followed the intensity of their matches.

As the laughter and playful teasing flowed between Vinyl and Octavia, Derpy hung back, her posture slightly hesitant, her eyes occasionally darting towards the lively group as she searched for an opening to join the conversation. Noticing her reticence, Amelia decided to bridge the gap. With a few strides, she closed the distance between them, enveloping Derpy in a warm, comforting embrace. As Amelia wrapped her arms snugly around Derpy's waist, she rested her head against her chest, releasing a heavy sigh filled with empathy. "You did good too, Derpy." she murmured, her voice muffled but sincere.

Derpy's hands hovered awkwardly before gently returning the embrace, her voice tinged with disappointment. "I didn’t do much really, all I did was run around. I could have scored but, I fumbled it." she confessed, her gaze drifting away, unable to meet Amelia’s eyes.

Before Amelia could respond, Lyra, overhearing the exchange, bounced over with her usual buoyant energy. She flashed a bright thumbs up in Derpy’s direction, her smile encouraging. "Not true! You did well drawing out defenders from their position! Creating gaps in the defensive line! You made it possible to create chances! There’s a reason you play for the Toffees, you know!" Lyra exclaimed, her enthusiasm undiminished by Derpy's visible disheartenment.

Despite Lyra's spirited defence, Derpy's shoulders slumped slightly, and the frown remained etched on her face, her internal battle evident. She managed a weak smile, a fragile attempt at gratitude. "Okay… Well, I just came over to say you did a great job, Amelia. You’re a great goalkeeper." she said, her voice low and tinged with a trace of resignation. Turning away, she began walking towards the changing room, her steps slow, carrying the weight of her self-doubt.

Amelia's brow furrowed with concern as she watched Derpy disappear into the changing room. She turned back to her teammates, a puzzled and worried look crossing her face. "Why is she... sad?" she asked, hoping for some insight that might help her understand Derpy's sudden drop in spirits.

Vinyl shook her head, her expression softening into a frown. "She doesn’t have any confidence in herself." she said, her voice tinged with sympathy. It was clear that Vinyl cared deeply, and seeing Derpy struggle was affecting her.

Octavia, who usually maintained a composed facade, also looked visibly troubled as she added, "It’s true… It looks like she isn’t interested in the sport anymore." The concern in her voice was unmistakable, hinting at the seriousness of the situation.

Amelia's confusion deepened, prompting her to ask, "But why? What happened?" She hoped someone could shed light on the root of Derpy's issues, something that might help them help her.

Lyra, normally the group's source of relentless positivity, seemed subdued as she responded. "No idea, she just dropped form one day and she just couldn’t find form again." Her usual bubbly demeanour was dampened by the gravity of Derpy's predicament, her bright energy dimmed by her concern for their friend.

Amelia sat quietly, her mind churning with concern for her friend Derpy. As she watched her teammates laugh and chat, her thoughts were elsewhere, tangled in a web of worry. Is Derpy losing her passion for hoofball? she wondered, the question echoing in her head. Could it be that she's struggling because she's not performing as well as she used to? Or perhaps there’s something else at play here?

Her gaze drifted, lost in thought. Could it be something personal? Amelia considered the possibilities: issues at home, overwhelming stress, or even deeper emotional struggles like depression. The lack of answers gnawed at her, the uncertainty unsettling. She wished she could peer inside Derpy's mind, to understand, to help.

Seeing Derpy so downcast was distressing. Amelia hated to see any of her friends unhappy, and it was especially hard watching Derpy struggle without knowing how to help. What can I do to help her through this? she pondered, her heart heavy with empathy and her desire to support her friend as best as she could.

As Amelia stood apart from the boisterous laughter and chatter of her teammates, she felt a familiar pull towards the necklace she always wore, a simple yet profoundly significant piece that once belonged to her father. Her fingers traced the rough edges of the pendant, worn down by years of her seeking solace in its steady presence. Each touch was a silent conversation with the past, a ritual that anchored her amidst life’s swirling uncertainties.

Each time doubt crept into her heart, she clutched the necklace, searching for the wisdom her father would have imparted. How would he have navigated this challenge? Though his voice had long since faded into memory, the ritual of touching the pendant bridged the gap between then and now, infusing Amelia with a tranquil clarity.

She closed her eyes, allowing the cool metal to press firmly against her palm, its familiar weight grounding her spirit. Deep, measured breaths drew in strength and expelled hesitation, her thoughts centring with each cycle of air. It was more than a meditation; it was a communion with the essence of her father’s enduring guidance.

With her resolve fortified, Amelia’s eyes snapped open, a newfound determination gleaming within them. The brief retreat into her inner sanctum had sharpened her focus, steeled her resolve. She felt an invigorating rush of calm certainty, as if her father’s wisdom had suffused her very being.

Stepping forward with a resolute stride, she was no longer just Amelia—she was her father’s legacy, ready to uplift and steady her friend Derpy in her moment of need.

As Amelia was about to console Derpy, she suddenly found herself ensnared in a bear hug of Olympic proportions. The air whooshed out of her lungs as if she'd just been tackled by a friendly, overenthusiastic linebacker. “Can’t—breathe…” she wheezed, her voice a mere squeak against the constrictor-like embrace, while visions of needing a lung transplant flashed before her eyes.

Just as she considered signalling for medical intervention using Morse code, the iron grip released her. The sound of giggling bubbled up from behind her, indicating the source of her near asphyxiation.

“Oh, sorry y’all, I couldn’t help it, ya was just amazin’ out there!” Applebloom confessed, her voice sheepish but still tinged with the thrill of the hug attack as she fiddled with her red hair like a cartoon villain pondering their next caper.

Amelia straightened up, patting her chest as if searching for any misplaced ribs. “It’s alright, just try not to turn my spine into a pretzel next time, okay? I’m fairly certain Karma didn’t have scoliosis.” she retorted, her voice half-muffled as she checked that all her body parts were still functioning.

With a playful glare, she added, “And maybe let’s save the bear hugs for actual bears, yeah? At least they’d have the decency to growl a warning first!”

Applebloom’s laughter echoed around them, infectious and bright. Amelia couldn’t help but join in, though she made a mental note to enrol in a quick course on self-defence against enthusiastic huggers—or at least start wearing a sign: ‘Fragile: Handle with Care.’

"Amelia! A minute, please!" The call from Applejack cut through the chatter and laughter like a thunderclap, turning every head. Beside Amelia, Grind Duster paused mid-sentence, his eyes following her sharp pivot towards the source of the voice. As Amelia glanced back, she caught a fleeting glimpse of Derpy disappearing into the shadows of the changing room's doorway, her silhouette a ghostly echo against the dim light.

"Wish me luck, guys." Amelia murmured, her voice a mix of hope and trepidation. Her words hung in the air like a fragile promise as she turned to face Applebloom, Vinyl, Octavia, and Lyra. Their nods and smiles were like beacons in the gathering dusk, emboldening her spirit.

With a deep breath that felt like drawing courage from the very earth beneath her feet, Amelia jogged over to Applejack, her heart pounding in her chest like a drum of war echoing the steps of a soldier into battle. Each stride was heavy with the gravity of what this meeting might hold, the ground beneath her a tapestry of opportunity and doubt woven tightly together.

As she approached, the world seemed to narrow to a tunnel, the edges blurring into irrelevance. The only things in focus were the determined set of Applejack’s face and the grass whispering secrets beneath Amelia's feet. She could almost hear the whispers of fate, weaving through the evening air, tugging at her soul with the age-old question that haunted every aspiring athlete's dreams: Was I good enough?

The distance closed, and Amelia stood before Applejack, the weight of the moment settling on her shoulders like a mantle of lead. She could feel the eyes of her teammates on her back, their hopes and fears mingling with her own in a silent chorus of anticipation. This was more than a conversation; it was a crossroads, each word a potential step towards her dreams or a retreat into the shadows of what could have been.

Amelia's breath caught in her throat as Applejack opened her mouth to speak, the future hanging precariously in the balance, waiting to be tipped by the scales of Applejack’s judgment.

"Amelia." Applejack began, her gaze heavy with a thoughtful intensity that seemed to weigh down the very air between them. "As a goalkeeper... what is your greatest fear?" The words hung in the air, a sudden chill that made Amelia's eyes widen in surprise. The question pierced her, unexpected and profound, something no one had dared to ask before, nor had she dared to consider herself. Why would Applejack pose such a dark inquiry? Was there an ulterior motive woven into this seemingly simple question?

After a moment's hesitation, where the silence stretched taut between them like a string waiting to snap, Amelia found the courage to voice the truth that haunted the shadows of her mind.

"Failure." she confessed, her voice barely above a whisper, yet carrying the weight of her deepest dread. To her, failure wasn't just losing a game; it was a visceral, consuming fear. She envisioned the goalposts expanding exponentially, mocking her with their vastness. Her hands felt like mere apparitions, incapable of stopping any shot. Each ball that passed her was a ghost through her fingers, a stark reminder of her own perceived inadequacy. This was the essence of her fear: an overwhelming sense of helplessness that threatened to swallow her whole, defining failure in the most personal, harrowing terms.

That was why a surge of anger rose within Amelia each time a goal slipped past her defences, dragging her back to the harsh reality that, despite her efforts, the ball would inevitably find the back of the net. This relentless reminder fuelled a fire within her, burning away any illusion of perfection. With every shot that thundered beyond her reach, Amelia was forced to confront her own limitations, the boundaries of her capability starkly outlined against the vivid backdrop of the game. All she could do, amidst the roar of the crowd and the pounding of her heart, was to save what she could, to stretch her skills to their utmost within the confines of her human imperfections. Human… could she even call herself that anymore?

Grind Duster’s question reverberated in the charged air, his imposing figure framed by the curling smoke of his cigarette, adding an ethereal quality to his already intense demeanour. Beside him, Applejack stood with equal gravity, her presence commanding and potent. As Grind Duster’s deep voice filled the space, an extraordinary phenomenon unfolded—around each of them, an aura of power began to manifest, visibly pulsating and vibrant, matching the colour of their eyes. Applejack’s aura shimmered a deep emerald green, while Grind Duster’s glowed with a fierce crimson red. The display was awe-inspiring, like witnessing ancient gods unveiling their might, their energy so palpable it almost made the air around Amelia vibrate.

Stunned by the spectacle, Amelia felt a momentary awe. The sight of their power, so freely exhibited, was both intimidating and mesmerising, reflecting their strength and passion for the sport. It was a raw display of their spiritual and emotional energy, and for a moment, Amelia felt like she was standing before two colossal figures from an ancient pantheon, each challenging her to rise to their legendary status.

“And what is your deepest desire, kid?” Grind Duster’s voice brought Amelia back to the moment, his question slicing through the awe like a blade.

Amelia, gathering her resolve and pushing back the intimidation, steadied her voice to match the intensity of the scene before her. “To be the best.” she declared firmly, her words cutting clear and strong through the mystique that the two coaches projected. Her goal was simple yet ambitious, a reflection of her own inner fire that now seemed to kindle in response to the challenge before her.

“To be the best.” she repeated, more to herself than to them, affirming her resolve. It was a declaration of her intent not just to excel within the confines of the game but to transcend them, to reach a level of skill and dedication that could one day rival the near-mythic presence of her mentors.

As Applejack's smile unfolded, it brought a soft warmth to her weathered features, the corners of her eyes crinkling with genuine approval. At her side, Grind Duster's expression shifted into one of cool detachment. He closed his eyes briefly, his posture relaxing as the intensity that had previously marked his stance seemed to dissolve into the air around them. "Good answer, very good." Applejack's voice resonated with a rich note of commendation, a subtle undertone of pride threading through her words. In stark contrast, Grind Duster's response was a muted grumble; he turned away sharply, his silhouette marked by a slouch of resignation as he strolled off, hands shoved deep into the pockets of his faded jeans, his figure diminishing with each step.

Turning back to Amelia, Applejack's expression grew serious, her eyes locking onto Amelia's with a piercing clarity. "Amelia." she began, her voice lowering to convey the gravity of her next words, "even before today's training, before I had fully seen what you are capable of, I had made my decision." She paused, allowing the anticipation to build, her gaze never wavering from Amelia's. "You are to be a part of my project—the future of this club." She let the words hang between them, heavy with implication and promise.

After a moment's pause, Applejack continued, the finality in her voice underscoring the importance of her next question. "So, the last question I want to ask you now is this… Do you want to be a part of the Toffees?" As she spoke, Applejack extended her hand, her palm open and inviting. The gesture was more than a formality; it was a symbol of partnership and mutual commitment.

Flooded with an overwhelming rush of happiness, Amelia felt as if a reservoir of joy within her was about to overflow. Her heart raced, her mind whirled with the realisation of what this moment meant for her future. All the years of hard training, the setbacks, the moments of doubt—all culminated in this single, life-changing opportunity. With a surge of emotion so powerful it nearly took her breath away, Amelia stepped forward and grasped Applejack's hand. Her grip was firm and confident, a physical manifestation of her inner excitement and resolve. "I will!" she exclaimed, her voice thick with emotion, her words echoing the boundless hope and fierce determination that filled her heart. This handshake sealed her fate, intertwining her path with the storied legacy of the Toffees.

That was the moment Amelia became apart of the Toffee’s little family.

Chapter 10.

—————————————————

No chance she’s gonna humiliate me with a penanka…

Scootaloo approached the penalty spot with a nonchalant swagger, her expression unreadable. She maintained this cool facade to keep Amelia on edge, guessing and preparing for any possible outcome. As Scootaloo positioned the ball and stepped back to take her shot, the tension built. Amelia, aware of Scootaloo's potential for trickery, braced herself in goal, her eyes fixed intently on the striker.

As Scootaloo started her run-up, Amelia feigned a move to her left, giving the slightest hint of committing to a dive. However, it was a ruse; Amelia smartly anchored her feet, staying central as she anticipated Scootaloo's next move. True to her suspicions, Scootaloo attempted a cheeky panenka, expecting to lob Amelia who she presumed would be diving away.

Amelia, having held her ground, watched the slow, arching ball come right towards her. With a calm and collected motion, she caught the ball firmly in her hands, thwarting the attempted chip with ease. A grin spread across Amelia's face as she realised her gamble had paid off perfectly.

Meanwhile, Scootaloo's frustration was palpable. She gritted her teeth and shook her head in disbelief, upset that her audacious move had been so easily read and countered. Jogging back to her position to restart the play, Scootaloo's annoyance was clear, but so was her resolve to try again. The dynamics between the goalkeeper and the striker had reached a new level of rivalry, each now fully aware of the other's cunning and skill.

72’ PENALTY SAVED!!! As Scootaloo stepped up for the penalty, the tension on the field was palpable. The crowd quieted, all eyes fixed on the duel between striker and goalkeeper. Scootaloo, known for her unpredictability and flair, took a few confident steps toward the ball, aiming to execute a daring panenka. Her casual demeanour seemed to mask an underlying strategy to outwit Amelia with a soft chip down the centre, betting on the goalkeeper's premature dive to one side.

However, Amelia, keenly aware of Scootaloo's penchant for such tricks, prepared herself mentally and physically for any possibility. She maintained her position in the centre of the goal, her body tensed for action but her feet firmly planted. As Scootaloo lightly tapped the ball, lofting it gently towards the goal, Amelia's decision to hold her ground paid off. With a calm and measured move, she simply reached up and caught the ball. The attempted panenka, rather than floating into the net, nestled securely in Amelia's hands.

Amelia's successful read of the situation not only thwarted Scootaloo's effort to change the scoreline but also kept the match at a solid 2-0 in favour of her team. The crowd erupted into cheers, applauding Amelia's composure and skill in maintaining the shutout.

90+3’ OUTSTANDING TACKLE!! As the game approached its climax, the tension on the field was palpable. The crowd was silent, every eye fixed on the unfolding drama. Octavia, known for her precision and quick thinking, spotted Scootaloo making a daring run towards the opposition's defence. With a swift exchange of passes, they executed a seamless 1-2 play. Octavia's initial pass cut sharply through the midfield, finding Scootaloo who momentarily held the ball, drawing the defenders towards her. With a deft touch, she returned it to Octavia, who flicked it right back over the defence, exploiting the space they had created.

Scootaloo hit the turf with a mix of surprise and frustration, looking up at Amelia with wide eyes. "How did you know?" she gasped, bewildered by Amelia's uncanny anticipation.

90+4’ GGGGGGGOOOOOAAAAAALLLLL!!! 2-1! The momentum shifted dramatically following Amelia's spectacular tackle, igniting a rapid counterattack by the non-bibs. Fuelled by the adrenaline of the save, Comet Tail seized the opportunity, darting down the right side of the pitch with the ball at his feet. His pace was unmatched as he linked up with Apple Cobbler near the halfway line, initiating a swift give-and-go. Apple Cobbler tapped the ball back into Comet Tail's path, allowing him to accelerate towards the goal.

The goal, scored in the 94rd minute, was a dramatic punctuation to a tense match, bringing the score to 2-1. Minuette's late strike not only showcased her striking prowess but also capped off a swift and effective counterattack that began with Amelia's critical tackle, demonstrating the swift shifts in momentum that can define a hoofball game.