The Mountain with a View
A Raindrops Story
The birds flew west, above the trees and across the mountain, chasing the horizon and the setting sun.
She watched them as they flew overhead, their brown feathers flapping in near unison, as she was perched atop the rock outcropping. Maybe one day she would fly with them, together carving a new path in the sky, but today she watched and envied. The mountain air was crisp as the chill of night crept in, and she averted her gaze toward the setting sun before it was gone.
As the warm colors washed over the sky, she briefly wondered where the sun went when it set, what it saw on the other side. Perhaps there were more mountains poking into the blue, or maybe there were rolling plains of green and yellow. Maybe there was nothing at all. She didn’t know.
When the last drop of light was blocked from view, leaving the black sky, she shook her blue mane. She unlatched the hook on her bag and peered in. One letter sat left at the bottom, and the address made her smile. With a sweep of her yellow wings she leapt into the air, careening down the slope. It had become late as she whiled away the time staring at the sunset; she hadn’t meant to watch the entire display. Hopefully she wouldn’t be too mad.
Oh well, she smiled anyway.
As she flew above the shaded forests, however, her smile began to falter. Even in the dark they were familiar. They were the same forests she flew over every day, and after them the same plains, then the same farmland, the same hills, the same homes, the same lakes, rivers, valleys…
She was now frowning as she flew, the route she was on ingrained into her mind. Day after day she followed it, and day after day it grew more tiresome. It was all the same, nothing new. She looked back to the mountains, were the sun had dipped below their crest.
Maybe one day.
Minutes later she found herself nearing her destination, her hoof skimming the leaves directly under her. She enjoyed the smell of the orchard, the hint of apples. Then again, she enjoyed the smell everyday… She scowled.
“Howdy there, Raindrops.” Her ears perked up as she heard her name called, and she swiveled her head around. Her eyes landed on the orange mare beneath her. When she flicked them back up, she saw the red barn not too far away. Huh, she was closer to Ponyville than she thought.
“Oh, hey Applejack.” Raindrops dove down to meet the pony, and alighted in the clearing next to her. “Need anything?”
“Naw, I just saw you flying by and was wonderin’ if’n you’ve heard anythin’ about the farm payment.” Raindrops inwardly sighed, it always seemed to be her ‘flying by’ when problems with the post came up.
“No, can’t say I have. Mind telling me what it was about?” She might as well try and help out where she could though, maybe word would spread and she’d get a pay raise.
“Well, the dang letter you delivered yesterday said we’d never paid the monthly fee on the new barn, and now we have a late fine to pay, but ah remember sendin’ it the week before. Ah don’t fancy payin’ fer things that I already did.” Applejack caught herself and pawed the ground with one of her hooves. “Not that A’hm sayin’ this is your fault er nothin’.”
Raindrops waved one of her hooves. “No, it’s fine, I get it, no offense taken,” she said. “Now, as for the problem, I really wouldn’t know anything about it. See, I deliver the mail, I don’t pick it up. That’s another pony’s job.” The farm mare’s face fell at that. “But,” she began, “I can ask around at the office tomorrow. It’s probably just a mix up with the bags. As much as we try to avoid that, it’s honestly pretty common.” A smile spread on Applejack’s face now, and that brightened Raindrops’ mood considerably, she was always glad when she could help.
“Many thanks, Raindrops. That’s a load of worry off mah back.”
“Yeah, no problem. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I kind of have to finish my route.” The farm mare cocked her head at that.
“Isn’t it a mite late to still be runnin’ the mail?”
Raindrops smiled. “Yes, yes it is.” She flapped her wings and lifted into the sky. “Have a good night, Applejack.” With that she flew back into the night, her eyes directed to the small glow of civilization in the distance. Well, if Ponyville counted as civilization, that is.
She listened to the sounds around her as she flew, enjoying the night while she could; her eyes widened, however, as she heard the lilting twitter of a bird below. She knew that bird, and as sweet as the sound was, it was only on her significantly late runs that she heard it. Raindrops sped up.
Hopefully she wouldn’t be too mad when she woke her up.
Although, maybe Raindrops was doing her a favor; she always knew her to be an early riser. Oh well, she was going to find out soon enough.
Greeted by a slightly disturbing crow and its caw—she didn’t take that to be a good sign—she hovered into the small village. By the time she had arrived, what little light that had been emitted was gone, save a few rebelling windows here and there. Ponyville had never been a very nocturnal community.
It took her less than a minute to find the shop, and as she landed in front of the door, she looked in through the display window. There were several bouquets and floral arrangements taking up the majority of the space, as well as a few smartly placed price tags and the odd knick-knack. It was also dark. Dark and quiet.
Making that discovery, she walked up to the nicely emblazoned, red door, lifted her hoof, and proceeded to rap on it three exceedingly loud times. A grin smeared itself across her face as she heard a thump from the second floor, and she dug into the brown bag slung over her shoulder to procure the letter she had arrived here to so dutifully deliver.
She waited with letter in mouth for the door to open, standing stock still as the chilly wind blew around her. She flicked her ears to warm them up and keep the numbness at bay. This was one of the times when she wished being a mail mare came with a neat hat. What could be taking her so long? Raindrops leaned forward and voiced her question by promptly smacking the door two more times.
“I’m coming, I’m coming, calm down!” the muffled voice answered. After a minute or two of impatient hoof tapping, the sound of locks being undone chimed through the street. As the door swung open, she was greeted by the frazzled, cream colored face of her clearly fuming friend. With this information in mind and letter in her chipper grin, Raindrops bowed.
“Ms. Roseluck, I am happy to report to you that your mail has, in fact, arrived.”
The mail mare sat in the florist’s quaint little shop, one hoof idly circling the rim of her steaming tea cup, while the other gently nursed the bump she could feel growing on her head. With apprehension, she lifted her eyes to watch her friend set the pot back onto the stove and move to turn on the faucet. Knowing she wasn’t looking, Raindrops leaned down to the cup and took a whiff. It didn’t smell like it was dangerous. Then again, how could she tell?
“It’s not poisoned, if that’s what you’re worried about.” Raindrops’ head shot back up to her friend as she made her way to the table, taking a seat across from her. Roseluck lifted her own cup to her mouth and took a sip, her eyebrows raised as she did so. Good, conformation, she thought.
“You never know. I mean, with that killer right hook you’ve been keeping a secret all these years, think of what else you could be hiding.” As if to emphasize her point, Raindrops lifted a hoof to her head again, cringing as pain throbbed through her skull. Roseluck just shook her head, her multihued red mane sweeping out of her face.
“Raindrops, dear, trust me. If I would have wanted you dead, tea is far from the first thing I would use. You should never waste what can be put to good use, especially tea.” Raindrops eyed her friend.
“That’s not very reassuring…”
“It wasn’t meant to be.” Roseluck smiled.
Raindrops wasn’t sure how she should feel about that.
“For the record, you deserve that bruise,” she said, eyeing her head. Raindrops rolled her eyes, this time a small grin sneaking onto her lips.
“Yeah, yeah, I know.”
“Good.” Roseluck leaned over the table and tapped a hoof against Raindrops’ cup. “Now, are you going to drink that or not? I was serious about the not wasting part.” She just nodded in response, lifting the tea with her hooves and taking a drink. It wasn’t a surprise to her that the taste was delightful, after all, this wasn’t the first time she’d shared a cup with Roseluck, far from it, actually. Maybe it had something to do with her being a florist? Probably—it takes natural talent to make Earl Grey bearable.
The two sat in companionable silence as they both drank their beverage. Raindrops gaze drifted to all the flowers set around her friends living quarters. There weren’t as many up here than down in the shop proper, although the marginal difference wasn’t all that large. The fragrances from each flower filled the room, mixing and mingling to form a kind of abomination of sweet smells. It was more than a little stifling, if she was being honest. Raindrops wondered how Rose could stand it, let alone live with it.
She would have asked Roseluck right then and there, it would have been the perfect opportunity to throw a jab at her for clocking her good in the head, but she didn’t. That nagging thought was in the back of her head again, forcing her to acknowledge it. She slowly took in the whole scene; the room, her friend, the flowers, even the delicious tea.
It was all so… familiar.
Normal.
Raindrops sagged in her seat.
She couldn’t recount all the times she’d been in this same upper room, sitting in the same seat and drinking from the same ceramic cup. It wasn’t Déjà vu, not entirely, it was just the repetition. Nothing was new, everything was the same. She even began to think that talking with Roseluck—her best friend—was becoming drab, boring. She hated herself for thinking that.
Her mind kept flitting back to the sunset and the birds. The skies they traveled and the things they saw. The things she wanted to see. She sighed.
“Hey, Rose?”
“Yeah?”
“Have you ever been… tired?” Her friend cocked her head and looked at her, a crooked grin on her face.
“Well, it’s pretty early right now, I’d say I’m decently tired.” Raindrops shook her head.
“No, not that kind of tired. I mean being tired of… I don’t know, everything.” Roseluck’s grin faded, and her brow furrowed.
“What do you mean?”
“Well, I was sitting on the mountain today—”
“The one past Sweet Apple Acres?”
“Yeah, the one with a view. It was the reason I was so late today,” she answered. “Anyway, I was just sitting there and watching the sunset, watching the birds as they flew overhead.”
“That’s… nice?”
“No, Rose, it’s really not. I was jealous of those birds.” Raindrops looked out the nearby window, imagining she could see the sun diving behind the peaks again. “When I see them, all I can think about is how they can go wherever they want, whenever they want. They have no commitments, they can get up and go, all it takes is a few flaps of the wings… I always wonder what they see.” Raindrops subconsciously ruffled her wings as she stared off into space.
“Well, you’re with the post. Don’t you travel all the time?” She idly nodded her head, still looking out the window.
“Hmm, yeah, but that’s part of the problem. I’ve been with the post for four years, traveling to the same places every other day. I loved it at first, it was great, but now it seems to have grown so much more… hollow.” She moved her gaze to Roseluck, looking her in the eye. “You don’t know how many times I’ve sat on that mountain, wanting nothing more than to just launch into the air and fly straight, to go out there and explore the world.” She exhaled and planted her head on the table. “But I never do…”
With her sad little story over, silence enveloped the room. It was odd though, she could swear she felt a little lighter. She heard the clopping of hoofsteps nearing her, and she rolled her head to one side so she could see her friend. Roseluck walked around the table and stood next to her, resting a hoof on her shoulder. Raindrops lifted her head to stare at her.
“Well, why don’t you?” she asked. A sad little smile flicked its way across the pegasus’ face, and she shook her head.
“Come on Rose, do you really have to ask?” she said. “Well, for one thing, that job I was complaining about? It’s still mine. I may gripe about it a lot, but what I do is important. Ponies rely on me, especially now, since the employment rate has dropped considerably; they’d struggle to replace me. And besides…” She looked passed Roseluck, her eyes falling on the nightstand and a picture of the two of them when they were younger, smiling. “There’s you,” she said, turning back. “I couldn’t just up and leave my best friend behind, could I?” She moved her head and rested back on the table, her eyes closed. “I’d miss you.”
The words hovered in the air as she rested her head, and she could feel Roseluck standing there, her eyes boring into her. That’s all she had really done while she had talked, sit and listen, her solemn, searching eyes never leaving hers. It reminded her of when they were younger, that one night when she had run away from her family, showing up on her friend’s doorstep, looking for a place to stay. She had just listened as Raindrops cried out her sorrows, soothing the damage they had caused. Rose had always been like that though; she was always there, waiting to listen.
Raindrops perked an ear as she heard hoofsteps leaving, and she idly wondered where they were headed, but she couldn’t bring herself to lift her head, finding that she had grown tired. Perhaps she had been out a bit too late.
Just as she was about to doze off, however, leaving to dream about sunsets and birds, the clopping returned. She was jolted out of her stupor as an object slammed unceremoniously onto the table in front of her. Startled, her head shot up, finding Roseluck flipping rapidly through a book. When she apparently found what she was looking for, she leveled a serious gaze at Raindrops and pointed down at the page.
“Where do you want to go?” The confused mare leaned over the table to get a better look, and found herself staring at a map of Equestria and beyond. She looked back up to her friend.
“What?”
“I said: ‘where do you want to go’.”
“Yeah, I know, I heard that part. I meant why?”
“Because, silly little Raindrops, we’re going to take a trip.” She sat there and stared at her, processing the information in her mind. Unbeknownst to her, her tail began to sway back and forth. It stopped suddenly, and she squinted.
“Wait, we?”
“Yes we. I’m not going to let you sit here and go stir crazy, you need to get out. But you know what I figured? If you leave—” Roseluck trotted around the table again and sat herself next to Raindrops, smiling at her. “I’d miss you too.”
A smile spread across her face and she looked away. “Aw come on, Rose, you’re gonna make me blush.” She heard her friend chuckle next to her.
“I’d count that as a win.” The pegasus rolled her eyes and shoved Rose, who only laughed louder.
“Okay, yes, thanks for that. But seriously, how are we going to do that? It’s not like you make that many more bits than I do…” Roseluck cleared her throat and shook her head as the laughing stopped, beginning to nod.
“True, but an easy fix. We just save up and pool our money together. It may take us a little while, but it’s better than nothing.” She glanced over at Raindrops. “Plus, it’ll be a day you can look forward to.”
Raindrops just sat there, the grin on her face steadily growing. Here she was, sitting in her friend’s live in shop and drinking her tea, invited in after she had pounded on her door well into the night—waking her and probably her neighbors—having unloaded her problems onto her for what was probably far past the 40th time, and there that unbelievable mare was, planning a trip for the two of them. Raindrops had no idea what she had done in life to deserve Roseluck as a friend, but whatever it was, she was eternally grateful for it.
“Roseluck?”
“Yeah?” Two hooves wrapped around her neck, drawing her into a hug. Raindrops’ could hardly talk her smile was so large.
“Thanks.” Roseluck just chuckled and returned the hug.
“You’re always welcome,” she said. Over time, the two eventually untangled themselves, and they both leaned over the book in unison. “Now,” she began, smiles plastered on their faces as the words hung in the air.
“Where do you want to go?”
