Last Stop on the Mail Route

To say the main street was packed? Actually, a massive understatement. They weren't kidding about Ponies visiting from everywhere for this thing.

Booths line both sides of the sizable Canterlot main road; the stonework host to cloth-covered tables, and stands presenting every bit of tidbit any pony could fit on there. Each booth has its own gathering and shifting crowd, each demonstrating their own unique draw.

The street lamps and buildings are decorated with strings of flags and banners that stretch between the other, big posters and artworks mantled on any open space. Very few of them are actually decorated to match any one booth, mostly just being the usual flair that's laid out for events or festivals.

The Castle, usually the distant epicenter of attention, the entrance just up a few upturned roads, was difficult to see past all the fanfare. The sky was also filled with Pegasi, spelling out advertisements and the like; pretty sure there's some kind of O-shape cloud up there, with a few Pegasi circling it. Wonder what that's for.

The crowd is a constant flow down the center, heading up and down the road, while smaller groups break off to check what each little section has to offer. Ponies from all over are here, gathered for the weekend; Nobles mix with regular Ponyfolk, some with clothes or outfits, some dressed up matching their jobs.

It's a lot. Pretty overstimulating, too.

But, I've got a little pair of hooves brushing my ears, and a familiar grey wing reaches up to keep in touch with me, so we don't get lost in the roaming crowds; it helps keep me rooted.

I look down to Derpy, who looks about as overwhelmed as I am with the whole affair. Standing around isn't going to accomplish much.
"Alright, Lady Regent of Height. Lead away." I joke, giving Dinky a little jostle. Her excited gaze flits over the various booths, and I swear I can hear the little gears whirring in her brain as she ranks them into an order. Thankfully for both of us, the kid was decisive.

"That one!" She squeaks, a little lavender hoof sticking out past my face as she jabs forward, leaning against my head.

And away we go.

Well, the first one she pointed out was the Longmane Lumberjack Association; a Lumber operation showcasing their newest axes and wood-cutting techniques. Primarily Earth Ponies, Pegasi and Unicorns had some unique options for job types under their care, mostly related to safety using their wings or magic. Derpy is a little confused why Dinky chose this one first; but that clears up the way her eyes are glued to the axes.

They even had a stack of logs for interested parties to try and take a swing at, getting a good swing of the axes and making a fun thing out of it. Ponies that actually got through the log were given a hat, with the company logo stamped on the front.

Not sure if Derpy should be worried that Dinky locked in on Axes first thing out of the Fair, but, at least the kid had good taste. Solid blue-collar work right there; couldn't go wrong with that.

My hikes and hunting trips had taught me a thing or two about scavenging with a handaxe, and I've chopped wood before; but the scale of Lumber work was beyond me. Dinky was a little young to get a chance to swing one of their test-axes around herself, but she showed such an excitement for absorbing everything they were willing to tell her about the stuff, they gave her a hat anyway. It was a smidge too big for her, sitting slanted on her head.

Derpy sighs in relief; axe-wielding can come later, when she's a little bigger. Or, as Derpy would prefer, never.

Pit stop a Candy Apple booth; some younger looking Ponies are working the stand, selling Apples dipped in a variety of things. Chocolate, Caramel, Sprinkles -- they even have Deep Fried? Damn, just like home.

Dinky is ravishing one of the Candy Apples in my right ear, so I have to remember to sweep off crumbs off my shoulder every few moments. Derpy and I split one ourselves, passing it back and forth. She kind of wanted one, but didn't want to get a whole one to herself, so I agreed to share it with her.

Her wings do this adorable little twitchy-flap thing whenever she takes a bite. She ends up eating most of it; couldn't help it, I was having too much fun watching her eat it, and like hell I was gonna say anything about it.

Color me surprised to find some Griffons; it wasn't one of the stalls that Dinky pointed out, only noticing it myself while passing it by. They're not hosting a particularly popular booth, at the moment; wonder if that's because they're Griffons, or the topic of their stall. Their banner reads the Griffonia East-Coast Expeditionary Fishing Foundation. Quite the mouthful. Or beak-full, in this case.

I pause beside it, Dinky tilting off my head in equal curiosity. Most of the Ponies were giving them a wide berth; but I think Dinky got used to Dina real quick, as I find the filly politely waving to them.

The Griffon manning (griffoning?) the front of the booth seems surprised at the attention, waving a talon back. Derpy trails back up behind us, curious.

The Griffon is more than happy to explain; apparently, they're permitted to fish along the Eastern Equestria coastline thanks to a trade treaty, since Ponies don't really consume fish-products. Part of the treaty let's them not only bring Griffons from Griffonia over, but also hire Ponies; so they try to participate in the Career Fair to spread awareness and promote positive interspecies relations. They don't often get much interest, but the treaty plays an important part in Pony-Griffin peacetime relations.

The best part? They had samples. I got some weird looks for the noises I made when I finally got to taste proper, cooked fish again. Oh, it has been too long. Doing any kind of survivalist harvesting that wasn't just fruits or nuts was a pain; Fluttershy was a natural ward to any actual attempt at hunting or fishing, the way she'd throw out those big sad eyes. Didn't help that everything in the forest was borderline sapient. I guess not fish, though.

Derpy, surprisingly, actually tried some. Ponies have a heavy bias towards a Vegetarian / Herbivore diet, but, are capable of consuming some meats, apparently. She didn't seem quite the fan. Dinky, as politely as possible, stuck her tongue out and made a 'Bleh' noise, not interested. I don't think the Griffons were offended; I think they just enjoyed the interaction, waving goodbye as we carried on. I liked Griffons.

The Food theme continued as Dinky pioneered me forward, charting new waters as a shoulder-sat little Captain. The next few booths seemed to be set up almost in competition of the other; two cooking schools, making trays of samples while each of the respective Head Chefs explained their unique curriculum to the interested Ponies; who got looped into listening on the free snacks.

One read the Vanhoover Dining Experience, a Culinary School & Restaurant Combo that boasted how Ponies would get hooves-on experience working in a respected establishment, producing Vanhoover's finest. Their Ponies are decked in navy-blue chef uniforms, and have a more Metropolitan flair to their style.

In contrast, the Canterlot Culinary School is repping it's home-court in sleek white uniforms, boasting their Noble setup in comparison, making elaborate and likely expensive dishes, with relatively smaller portions.

One shows city-food, one shows noble-food, and visiting Ponies get to snack on both while they glare at each-other from across their booths, throwing petty insults, competitive glares and, what I assume to be, rude pony gestures along the way.

A win-win for everybody. Derpy herself seems more partial to Vanhoover's more substantial 'food for the working pony', while Dinky's eyes go wide for the elaborate, fancy upper-class Canterlot plating. Neither are serving potato wedges, so I don't really care, myself.

I don't think cooking is in the cards for Dinky, though; Derpy tried to prompt Dinky to check out each, but the only thing she was intent on 'checking out' were the sample platters, making me reach and lift snacks up to her for her to try. Doesn't seem like Dinky is the competitive type; probably why neither of the schools actually caught her interest.

Further ahead was another fancier booth, dedicated to taking up two entire stalls themselves; rather than food, though, their 'samples' involved a small, continual orchestral performance, most of their dedicated space set up for the small band sat in a semi-circle, the Conductor taking moments in between performances to answer questions and hand out pamphlets.

The Manehatten Musical Academy; specializing in String, Brass and Wind instruments. Though a quick glance at their pamphlet showed they had courses and classes for most mainline instruments, for those with a less career-centric, and more hobby-focused interest. I heard a few requests to try some of the instruments, but thankfully, they're pretty stingy about doing anything more than showing them off, pulling them back whenever an excited foal or pony tries to reach for them. I think they even write out a 'Do-Not-Touch' sign, slapping it to the front of their booth. My ears appreciated that.

The way I catch Derpy watching the Orchestra, leaning back and forth with the music, gives me a date idea that I mentally tuck away for later; giving her a night to be a fancy mare might be a good move. Dinky is just waiting for the cymbalist to crash his cymbals together, throwing her hooves up and cheering every time he does. It's a good thing I'm hanging onto her back legs, or she'd have thrown herself backwards off of me already. The cymbalist seems to appreciate having a fan.

We stop for another break, finding an open bench; good to get a moment to rest my leg. It's already nearing noon, and today, time is flying. There's so much going on, with the Ponies, the noises, the stalls, the confectionaries, the patrols. Dinky isn't even heavy, but maneuvering around so many Ponies takes some effort. We haven't even made much distance from the hotel, with it still just being a few streets over; there's just so many booths and so much going on. For every one we pass that doesn't interest us, another three get us to pause and check them out.

Dinky still doesn't want to come down off my shoulders. She's having a blast up there, wriggling back and forth, hooves held against the sides of my head, funny little logger cap sitting on her head. They'd cut a hole out of the front of it for Unicorns, so her horn sticks out of it.

Derpy settles in beside me, curling up on the bench and enjoying the breather. She's been doing really good avoiding bumping into ponies; having me around to keep an eye on Dinky means she can let her focus slip without worry.

Across from us, there's a stall dedicated to the Royal Guard; they've got a recruitment station, where interested Ponies can take a shot at a summarized, compartmentalized version of the Royal Guard Entry Exam. They've got weights on a sled to pull, a pull-up bar (watching the Ponies try to use it... I have to ignore how odd it is for their physiology, or my head is going to start hurting), a square set aside for sparring with padded weapons, the whole works. A few of the Royal Guard are posted to it, making light conversation with some of the Ponies waiting in line to give the little course a shot.

A more decorated Royal Guard, with a plume flared back over his helmet, currently shouts, motivates and berates some of the Ponies mid-trial. One dangles from the pullup-bar, struggling to get up. Another has done a few push-ups, and is already gasping for breath. I guess most of the Ponies stamina came from their movement, not bursts of effort like this; it's not like Canterlot is the center for labor-centric jobs either.

I've been to Canterlot a few times, but it's hard to recognize any of the guards; they have an enchantment on their armor that makes them look similar, or something. Wasn't really paying attention to that info-dump from Twilight. I try to, but I was a little whelmed that day. I think one of them is staring at me, though.

"You said you were in something like the Royal Guard, right?" I hear Derpy ask; she's been watching them too, glancing at me. "Did they do this kind of thing too?"

"Army, yeah. Recruitment drives are constant; they'd show up to schools, run ads, the works. Always looking for fresh bodies. Wasn't as glamorous or prolific as these guys, though." I explain, gesturing across the road to the guards.

Honestly, they reminded me of those Queens Guard in England, the way they're usually posted about, almost like they were more about discipline and image. I didn't doubt they were capable, though; they had these Ponies sweating.

Dinky pats my head several times.
"You should do it, Mister Muss! I bet you'd be the best at it! How many pull ups can you do?!" She goads, eyes glued to the their little testing ground.

I snort, shaking my head. I'd generally kept up with my fitness, but I was not in my army prime; pretty sure the general lack of red meat didn't help much either.
"Oh, like, at least two. Maybe two and a half on a good day." I tease, the Filly -- is she rubbing my ears? I flick her hooves. Stop that. That felt weird.

"No, I've done my time. Never sparred with a Pony, anyway; they'd probably just buck my knees, and I'd fold like a sack of bricks." I joke, getting a giggle out of Dinky. Getting into a tussle with a creature whose main force of power was angled perfectly between my knees, and my crotch, wasn't my idea of a good time.

Though I'd be lying if I hadn't thought about the process numerous times. Maybe if I had a long stick or something, though. I could win the reach game. Or throw a rock. My ancestors were good at that. If I got one in a chokehold, they were probably done for.

"I think you'd do better than you give yourself credit for." Derpy says softly, placing her hoof on my thigh, interrupting me from my very uncommon, definitely not usual thoughts.

"Sweet; but nah. If I keep myself bathed in critical self-doubt, I won't be disappointed when I fail, and I'll be pleasantly surprised if I succeed." I impart wisely, getting a bemused scoff from Derpy.

"Inspiring." She snorts. "Don't teach that to my daughter."

"What about you? Get into any sports or that kind of a thing as a foal?" I ask; one hand still gripped on the excited wriggler leaning on my head, I place my other hand on Derpy's outstretched hoof.

I catch her gaze looking upwards, towards the clouds wistfully. She hums softly.

"Mommy was FAST." I hear Dinkster whisper in my ear, opposite of Derpy; like it was a secret. It takes Derpy a second, but she lets out a long, memory-ridden sigh, still staring upward.

"When I was a Filly, I lived in Cloudsdale with my Dad, attending an advanced flight-school; Rainbow Dash went to the same one, actually. Cloudsdale's Program For The Prodigal Pegasi. For a Pegasus, it's all about flying. Not just speed, but control, turns, endurance, high-flying, low-flying; Pegasi who could excel in one of those categories, or multiple, had several real opportunities line up for them." She explains, still cloud-gazing. "Weather Control, the Weather Factory, Sky-Flying Fire-Fighting; even the Wonderbolts. You know what those are, right?"

I nod. I've seen one of their shows. From the ground, but still, quite the stuff. Really reminiscent to those Airshows at home; minus the giant metal machines blast their way through the sky. I won't say it aloud; but I thought it was cooler with the jets. Sure, the Ponies can stop in place and bank pretty hard, but they don't have that roar when they soar past the crowd, the power you feel from that engine.

"Every month, there would be competitions in those various categories, getting Pegasi to train up their various skills, almost like an exam. One month, top speed. The next, turn control. Honestly, the Academic side has always taken a back-hoof in Cloudsdale schools." She continues to explain, glancing between me, and a group of Pegasi that soar over the buildings. Sounds like a sports scholarship back on earth. "And I was... well, top of my class, actually, if you can believe it." She admits, a little bashfully.

"I believe it. I've seen you go--you get some speed. Well, until you hit my couch, but you haven't missed yet." I grin, and she gives me a coy look. "Probably the opposite in Unicorn schools, yeah?" I offer, curious as I point to the Dinkster on my shoulders. Derpy nods.

"I think so. Don't see why they'd need to focus physical things like Earth or Pegasus Ponies." She agrees. "Though right now, her schooling is general academia. History, Mathematics, Science. I'd love to get her into a Unicorn School, though."

"All-in on the Magic." I also agree.

I hear Dinky whisper "Because magic is the best." in my ear. Cheeky.

"But how did that end up with you being a Mail-Mare in Ponyville?" I ask, shifting my position and leaning my prosthetic leg across my other knee, taking the weight off.

"Well... Raindow and I--" She purses her lips, contemplating. Reminiscing? "...I got too cocky, and took a turn harder than I should have. For that month, it was an obstacle course; they'd put up things for us to dive around, through, avoid, routes to find the fastest path. Which meant for the first time, it wasn't just clouds on the track. We were the advanced course, after all -- we should've been ready for it. I, should have been ready for it." She explains, one of her Hooves roaming to her head. She lifts her Mane, showing her scalp; where there's the faintest, faded scar buried in her fur, right where her forehead meets mane, above her eyebrow.

"I hit one of those obstacles hard enough, and I went from second place on the last lap; to waking up in the hospital. The nurse said I burst a blood vessel behind my eye, smacked my head trying to bank too hard on the turn. Recovery took a while, and I didn't heal quite right. I couldn't... keep up, anymore, and I didn't know why. Found out why, later though; I got diagnosed with Strabismus, and it slowly kept getting worse." She sighs, swallowing. A heavy topic for her, I'm sure. "Couldn't quite keep up like I used to; Rainbow Dash overtook me as lead prospect, and my Dad--" She pauses.

"...Once I fell down enough of the rankings, I moved to Ponyville with my Mom a not long after. Got a job in town, same one she had; been a Mail-Mare since." Derpy finishes, looking up at me. She seems at peace with it, at least, to some degree.

I move my hand from resting on her hoof, to her cheek, stroking it with my thumb.
"Can't be an easy thing to talk about; but thanks for telling me. On the other hoof, how does it feel reigning in another year as Ponyville's prettiest Mail-Mare?"

There's that bashful smile; but it's weak, tinged with sadness. She shakes her head, leaning into my hand and nuzzling my palm.
"You told me about you, so... I want to try and be more open with you. It's... good, getting to speak about these things; like you said, no point in wishing things were different. And, better I get to say it before Dinky tells you herself." She teases, throwing her Daughter, still sat on my shoulders, a toying stare. Dinky snickers; my little informant was outed.

Across from us, one of the Royal Guards posted at their Recruitment Booth, whispers to the one that had been looking in our direction. They nod, trotting and merging into the crowd, heading for the castle.

After that nice break, and fairly deep, interpersonal moment, we're back on the move. The Fair is well into full swing, the sun overhead peering through the clouds. Besides advertisements and whatever that elongated donut cloud is, they're arranged to try and provide a few spots of shade, since a fair amount of Ponies were probably going to be out and about for long stretches. Derpy is back to my side, hip bumping into my leg every few moments, Dinky still clinging to me on my shoulders.

One of the Booths makes me double-take; for a second, I thought I saw Nurse Redheart, but its another Mare dressed similarly, with a near-same coat color.

Their Booth a big red cross, the Hoof N' Heart Hospital is apparently offering courses to those interested in the medical fields, granting direct internship to learn alongside the best. They've got a few demonstrations of the tools they use, showing them off to interested members, and describing their locations and work they do.

"Any interest in being a Nurse, Dinkster? Or a Doctor. Neurosurgeon? Therapist?" I ask aloud, peeking up out of the corner of my eye as I ramble out pricy college-degree jobs. Dinky leans down into my view, pursing her lips.

"Hmmmmm..." She hums dramatically. "I dunno."

"If you become a Neurosurgeon, you can poke at peoples brains." I advise, getting an interested nod from the filly.

"People usually enter Medical professions to help people, Dinky." Derpy informs, glancing up. Dinky shakes her head.

"Nah. Brain-poking sounds cooler." She affirms; we share a hoof-fist bump, at Derpy's expense.

Derpy sighs, shaking her head, laughing softly. As long as her daughter was engaged and having a good time, than Derpy was happy too.

As we're walking, I notice there's a distinct lack of a grey-colored flank bumping into my leg every few moments, and a certain Dinkster tugging at my ears. That's not right. Where'd my favorite flank go? I squint, pausing and turning.

Derpy is stopped a few feet back, staring wistfully at something. It's the Wonderbolt's Recruitment Booth. There's a few of those tracksuit-wearing high-fliers sat around a table; a few pamphlets, photos of notable fliers. And funny enough, a familiar head of rainbow-colored mane. They've got a sign pointing upwards; hanging pretty low, close to the houses, is that weird O-shaped cloud I saw earlier. It clicks, as I see Pegasi appear now and then from the edges of it; it's a racing course for the winged Ponies.

I meander back beside Derpy, watching as Rainbow Dash darts upward, off to test the track herself.

"Wanna give it a lap?" I say aloud, glancing down at her. She startles, snapping out of her stare, quickly shaking her head.

"No, no. I couldn't. We're here for Dinky. Come on, let's--" Derpy starts, quick to shut the idea down, turning to start walking again. Dinky taps my shoulder. I step in front of her, blocking her.

She glances up at me, a mixture of confusion, and a frown settling on her face. I speak up before she can say anything.

"I'm not gonna sit here and try to force you, or anything. I get it. The doubt. The time that's passed. But whose to say you can't just... take five minutes, and run that track for old times? I know how damn good of a flyer you are." I encourage, giving her a reassuring smile. I meant it, too; I wouldn't try to force her. If she wanted to go, we'd go. But it's not like opportunities like these, for things that have passed, rear their head very often.
"Wouldn't it be fun just to see how fast you can go?"

Dinky nods rampantly on top of my head, all for the idea. Derpy doesn't seem so easily convinced.

"Anon, these are recruitment drives. They're looking for candidates. Young, fresh candidates. Not old Mares like me." She objects, shaking her head.

"Old Mare? Right." I snort. "You know that these are as much for spreading awareness and building local rapport, as they are for actually recruiting? It's about having fun, getting Ponies involved, getting Ponies interested. They don't care; look at that guy." I point -- an older Pegasi couple are already on their way up to check the track out, being escorted by one of the Wonderbolts.

"Well, I... I can't just leave you and Dinky down here. This is supposed to be about Dinky, and neither of you even have any wings --" She continues to try and protest, but her retorts continue to weaken and falter.

"You cool with waiting for your Mom while she rocks the track, Dinkster?" I interrupt, jostling el Dinkadore.

"What, wait for my Mom to win, like, all the first places?" She nods again, grinning. "Get 'em, Mom!" Dinky beams, pointing a hoof towards the Wonderbolt booth.

Derpy sighs, looking between the two of us. With hesitation, her gaze slowly shifts, staring up again. I follow her stare -- the rainbow blur of a particularly memorable pony is visible, darting in and out of the clouds. For a second, I was worried it might off put her; but I think I see a twinkle of a competitive side of Derpy that I haven't seen before. Her wings are twitching, nose glued to the same directions as Rainbow Dash. Even when she isn't visible, Derpy's stare matches her, right in the right place whenever she peeks out from the cloud. Derpy's still got that little bit of a spark in her.

"Go for it, Derpy. I've got the Dinkster. We'll stay nearby, peruse the close booths. Think I saw something about Unicorns a few booths up." I push, for that final nudge. Go for it, Derpy.

"...You sure? Promise?" She asks quietly. I can see how she's practically raring to go. She might deny herself a lot of things; but she deserves this.

"Go for it, beautiful. Show 'em what you've got." I smile; how could I not.

Derpy's wings unfurl, taking to the air -- in a moment, she's already in my face. She reaches up past me, and plants a kiss on Dinky's forehead, getting a giggle from the Filly; when I find her hooves grabbing the side of my head next, followed by a big, wet smack on my face, smiling. Beaming, practically.
"Alright. I'll go for a lap. But only one! I'll be back in a few -- like, five minutes, tops! Stay close!" She affirms; I take the purse from her, slinging it over my own shoulder.

"Like we'll be hard to spot. Knock 'em out of the sky, Derpy." I nod, smile still glued to my face.

She flaps over to the booth; it's a short conversation, and in moments, one of the Wonderbolts is is escorting her up; and for a moment, they fall behind, having to kick it up a notch to keep up, surprising them. Oh shit.

"...I bet she could've gone pro." I mutter aloud.

"Mom said she was a... Wonder-Cadet, when she was in school." Dinky agrees, both of our eyes glued to the grey-furred Mare that disappears into the clouds.

...Yeah, I really want to get her some prescription goggles or something as a gift. I think that Mare is missing out; last time she buzzed with that much excitement was our date-night. That would probably get me big brownie points.

We both stare up at the track for a few moments longer, before glancing around. Just me and the Dinkster, now.

"Alright Dinky-Doo-Da. What do you wanna see next?" I hum, glancing over the other stalls.

"...Are those throwing axes?" Dinky asks, pointing towards a H.E.M.A (Historic Equestrian Martial Arts) Foundation's Booth. When the fuck were Ponies throwing axes?

"Uh, fuck yeah it is. You ever thrown an axe?"

"Nuh uh."

"Don't tell your Mom."

She drags a hoof across her lips, making a zipping noise.