When Wide Open Skies Breathes Life Into Us, Too.
It had been two weeks since High Winds had even seen Anon.
It wasn’t a mystery as to why. The show they had in Canterlot recently was a major success. It went off without a hitch thanks to the countless hours she and the rest of the team had spent with Spitfire, who had drilled their routine right between their respective skulls. High Winds knew that was what it took to be a Wonderbolt, spending hours on end to get the routine just right to ensure everypony involved was safe in the air. Unfortunately for her, well… that meant not being able to see Anon until possibly today.
High Winds heard the wind against her ears. It snapped and wisped all around her as she soared, floating in the air with her body twirling in a sequence of vicious and tight barrel rolls. Each one made the clouds around her turn into a vapor-like blur. She knew that the nearly monochrome view stained against blue skies would soon change; there was another pony up there with her. Another pony who was just as talented as she was.
On cue, a bright yellow blur exploded past her in a turbulent gust. She could barely make out some lines, maybe even what looked like a wing, but she knew one thing was for sure.
That was definitely Misty.
This wasn’t them flying together for fun. No, this was their practice for the next show on the Wonderbolts’ grand tour. High Winds mentally giggled because being up this high could either make her gulp in too much air or, if she was truly unlucky, a new species of bug would grace her windpipe. Thankfully, neither of those happened, her lips tightly closed shut while she breathed out her nose.
The act wasn’t the only thing on her mind.
This whole branding fiasco for the tour was so unlike what they had previously done. The higher ups had bickered a bit too much, and it had made Spitfire quite agitated by the news, so much so that she thought it was a great thing to address to the team:
“Those featherbrains up top need to actually see who goes to their shows!”
The grit in Spitfire’s voice echoed loudly in High Winds’ mind. If Spitfire wasn’t barking orders at the rest of the team, she was venting her frustration to them about the organization. Usually Soarin’ and Fleetfoot would be there to step in and calm her down before she started telling the team about sensitive stuff, but Spitfire was alone with High Winds and Misty Fly today. Everypony else took a rest day, which meant Spitfire was unfettered, like a thunderstorm.
“Slackers, the lot of them.”
That giggle etched its way into the sky. However, it was cut short, not only because High Winds rolled into a cloud that tried to accommodate her but ended up poofing itself out of existence in a drizzly embrace that coated her suit and mane, but also she remembered that new species of bug she had imagined and vocally squealed as she hurriedly closed her mouth. She didn’t want to choke on a new discovery, let alone get cloud vapor coating her teeth like it had already done with her mane.
Her mane. She had fluffed it this morning, making it as curly as it could be. Sure, she was naturally curly, but not curly enough for what she wanted in her day-to-day, so, after fluffing the mane, she nearly drenched it in her designer hair spray. She might’ve gone overboard, as her hair was as stiff as a board when she walked onto the runway (she couldn’t avoid Misty’s and Spitfire’s ribbing, everypony has a bad mane day at least once in their lives!), but flying always fixed it up! She could count on a good flight to frazzle and wet it down appropriately, at least, that’s what she hoped. She would rather Anon not see that sorry state of her mane.
She wished she could fix her suit the same way, though. Usually, she had no problems with it. The wingsuit fit tightly in all the right places, and she was not afraid of it slipping off her mid-flight. All she had to do was make sure it zipped up all the way, else she’ll have major issues with the hairs on her body getting caught in the zipper.
Unfortunately today, just like her bad mane day, she had a wingsuit malfunction, like she had spoken it into existence. She thought she had checked the zippers twice, the first for her facemask being as tugged down as it could go. However, the rest of the wingsuit was for a different zipper, and that one she wasn’t sure about. She had asked her teammate Misty Fly to check, and she had done so, saying the zipper was already up as far as it could go.
Apparently it wasn’t. The zipper on the back toward her neck had decided to gain a few extra hairs.
She grit her teeth and buried her tongue behind them, letting out a hiss as each tug against her skin sharply reminded her of her hairs’ imprisonment. She sucked back the pain though, the pain being so minor yet so distracting, like stubbing a hoof against a table consistently. She was still flying after all, and she needed to prepare herself for exiting her last roll. These tight maneuvers took patience and a lot of practice to get right, and all she needed to do was to focus. Focus on completing it, not how much her neck burned from that silly zipper. She could have Misty chew out the pony who designed her suit later!
She took in a deep breath and closed her eyes. Three…
Two…
One!
She adjusted her wings by flicking them further out. She tilted them as needed, hoping that the wind wasn’t going to shear them clean off with what micro adjustments she had to do.
Thankfully, the world around her reciprocated. Her rolling stopped and she stabilized, which meant only one thing.
A kick!
She thrust her legs out too, pushing her movement skyward. Then, she spread her wings as much as she could, only giving it two flaps to get her aligned rightly with her teammate, who was…
…smiling at her.
Misty’s smile was toothy, and with those goggles plastered against her face, and her wings practically twitching, she too was happy that they had gotten this far. They had finally gotten it right, the two flush next to each other, nearly touching wingtips. High Winds’ heart beat slowly, feeling the sense of calm wash over her now that the majority of the routine had gone by without any major flub-up, which, with these two, while it wasn’t as impressive as a full line of Wonderbolts doing it all at once, this was still an achievement nonetheless.
This was what High Winds wanted. Alignment. Success. A flight path without a collision. A perfect moment of clarity. She felt light at that very moment, high in the sky. Her smile did too, numb to the feeling.
Yet, as she retained her focus, she could see a Wonderbolt-branded hoof that wasn’t of her own pointing at her, and then pointing back down to the ground below.
She gave Misty a nod and a subtle salute, which earned High Winds the goofiest of smiles. She noticed how it framed her teammates’s face, how it led to her mane, the frazzliest lightest of blue. It was probably more frazzled than her own right now, but High Winds didn’t have a mirror to confirm, and no natural mirror this high up existed in Equestria.
High Winds shook her head. Focus. Make a dash to a mirror later! Anon wouldn’t mind the wait, right? Right? He totally wouldn’t mind! She wanted to look her best for him. All she had to do was complete the routine now and she’d be home free!
So she did. She took a deep breath and let herself go.
She flung her body forward and let herself dive headfirst toward the ground. Her body fell in sync with Misty, who was right beside her doing the exact same movement, trained to a T.
She had been waiting to get to this part of the routine. It was her favorite part after all. An actual trust fall. It was designed to be a more dangerous stunt for a Wonderbolt to perform, and while Spitfire was keen on not doing this particular trick, the rest of the team was. High Winds couldn’t believe Spitfire’s hesitation. Who wouldn’t want to do one of the most exhilarating tricks in a Wonderbolts uniform?
Apparently, Spitfire was one of them. Her wings sagged at the sight, prompting her to engage in a flurry of ‘Okay, but if we do this’ phrases. High Winds had listened intently as several safety measures were rambled off with no notes (or hoofnotes in sticky note form) in hoof.
First, their wings were not to be fully plastered against their sides. If done, the wind shear at higher speed could cause them not to open, and having that happen could cause pony guts to be splattered all over the place. High Winds wanted to avoid that, so hers were barely out.
Additionally, Spitfire noted that having them barely out gave off the illusion that the stunt was out of their control, making for a more intense experience for a viewer. Little did Spitfire know, for High Winds, it tickled her feathers, tickled her hairs on the back of her neck, and pumped her body with adrenaline so profound that it overwhelmed her other senses.
Secondly, Spitfire denoted that no pony was to do a trust fall alone. Another team member had to be present in this drill. That way, if there was an issue mid-air, at least they could signal to a teammate that they needed help. Thankfully, Misty Fly was here to be her duo, so this was more in line with what was needed.
All she had to do was not let the wind whipping against her not make her lose focus. It whipped her mane and her hairs not protected by her suit. The tugging grew into a burning itch that stayed ever-present on the back of her neck. Each hit from the current made her want to pull up, but she winced through it all. She wasn’t going to let a bit of pain ruin this trick. If only Anon had fixed her wingsuit before she took flight, then this stupid zipper wouldn’t even be an issue—
High Winds let out a pained whine. There he was again! He was occupying her thoughts when she needed to focus on flying! Why were all paths in her mind leading back to him?
She mentally shrugged and cleared her throat. Mid-clear, she let out a stifled gasp. A rush of air lodged itself in her throat, making her sputter a cough. She shook her head to try to get rid of it, which ended up forcing a growl to escape her. Great, she couldn’t even clear her throat without getting frustrated at him! She needed to focus. Flying required all her concentration. The human could wait.
Her muzzle scrunched up as she started to recognize where the ground was. Of course she knew it was below her, but the cloud cover made it hard to actually see it. As she flew through some of the clouds, they dispersed a little, giving her a mix of white puffiness being hedged by a blue aura that outlined the area below. She could start seeing some grass, the green distorting the details that grew exponentially closer to her.
She wished she had cleaned her goggles before she started flying, as some splotch marks were distorting the grass even more. She really needed to tell Spitfire that this cleaning liquid smudged up more often than not.
High Winds took in more of that air, this time willingly. It rushed through her nose, at a pace more akin to her heart, which raced faster than she could think. Each beat represented a second to her. A smidgen of a moment. A fraction of time. A fraction of what the ground looked like. A fraction of her heart’s beat as it kept defying her slow-to-form thoughts. She remembered when her heart’s cadence was a slow, calm rhythm, but that trot turned swiftly into a metaphorical gallop, with each rhythm change feeling like she was one moment closer to the end. Part of her wanted to pull up, but she wasn’t ready to do it.
Not yet, High Winds. Not yet…
Spitfire’s voice tickled her ears. She took a deep breath and focused on the task at hoof. All she needed to do was look over and see her teammate’s signal. A wave of a hoof, that’s all.
High Winds spared a glance, only to see Misty frantically wave her hooves at her.
Pull up! Pull up!
She snapped her wings out and angled them enough to redirect her from smashing into the ground. Her body now flirted ever so closely with it, one of her wings nearly grazing the grass below her. She course corrected, lifting up a bit higher to clear the vegetation ahead. She zipped over a few bushes before grazing the canopy of a rather large tree. If anypony was laying near those bushes or even at the base of the tree, they would’ve gotten hit with a gust that would’ve knocked them over! She snorted to herself, probably because her mind was slowly catching up to what she had actually done—narrowly avoiding death can keep the blood pumping for quite a while! She needed to find a place to land quickly, before it all wore off.
She spared a glance back over at Misty, who angled her hoof toward the nearby tarmac. High Winds gave her teammate a nod, even though the plain-to-see scowl that Misty wore told High Winds all she needed to know. Unfortunately, her wildly beating heart forced itself in its hammering to ricochet, making it beat so fast that it was almost barraging through the door called her chest. She tried to slow herself down, breathing slowly, which worked for a bit, but that scowl. That scowl made High Winds wonder if she had it in her to fly away from the tarmac.
She let out a groan. She wasn’t going to chicken out. She had to be there for Misty, much like she was to High Winds. Once they landed, then she could panic at the possibilities that scowl held. It most likely will end with her getting told off by her teammate, or worse, Spitfire, who she totally didn’t spot just now on the tarmac.
Her day was about to get a whole lot worse, wasn’t it?
Anon watched silently as High Winds twirled in the air.
It was mesmerizing to see her fly. It reminded him of home, like how those stunt pilots would fly multi-million dollar aircraft for sport. He loved watching them… from his computer. Granted, he would go see them in person, but every time he tried to, something had to get in the way. Work, family, friends, even neighbors had to chip in on his finite amount of time back on Earth. Yet, here he was in Equestria, finally witnessing flight in a whole new way, from a mare who liked him enough to see a possible relationship with him through.
Not like she knew he was there. That was part of his master plan.
He let out a goofy snort as he continued to watch High Winds fly. He was surprised she hadn’t noticed him yet. Maybe it was because Misty Fly was more on his side when the two flew over his little hideaway. Either that or he was the most unnoticeable alien who blended way too well with the grass or something. After all, his shirt was green. Maybe he had taken the ‘you should camouflage yourself’ comment from Spitfire a bit too far. If only she could see him now, laying in the grass with his green shirt and black pants…
“Maybe I should set up the blanket…”
Anon groaned and turned to his right. Beside him was a basket. The basket held the key to their date. It was supposed to be in the center… but, well, he had other things that he had to worry about first. Like his all-too-glaring bag of goodies.
The goodies? Well, it was mostly a knapsack for his pillows (one that he had out and had propped his head up with) and the rather large blanket he had brought with to set everything he had in the basket on it. That blanket would eventually include himself and High Winds, but that wasn’t in the deck of cards he had dealt himself. Not yet, anyways.
See, there was a problem with this setup. He didn’t know when he should set it up. Most likely when she was no longer flying, but it wouldn’t give him much time to make everything look perfect. Anon was much the perfectionist, albeit a critically acclaimed lazy one.
He shook his head and turned onto his back once again. Not yet. He still had to wait. They weren’t done with their routine, and if he did it now, it would blow his cover. The blanket was a rather deep red and bright white color displayed in a checkered pattern. It would certainly clash with his ‘camouflage’. Actually, now that he thought about it more, he really did take this camouflage seriously. Was the green smudge on his skin really that necessary?
He frowned. Did he bring a separate container of water to use on his face to wash it off? A canister of some kind? He’d have to check later. He had to stay vigilant, even if those black pants of his made him stand out too. He would’ve worn his more comfortable blue jeans, but they were grass-stained from one of the… altercations he had outside the castle, and was now having to wait for the ‘royal laundry’ to be done.
Anon didn’t even know how he was considered part of ‘royalty’. He was an alien, and last time he checked, he wasn’t related to some monarch. But maybe that DNA kit he got himself as a joke present skipped a generation or two. Maybe he was actually royalty and he was now finally gaining the perks of being one. Still, he kind of wished he was able to do his own laundry. The maids did take a bit longer than he would like in cleaning his clothes.
Imagine how ludicrous that would sound if said by anyone back on Earth! Anon wouldn’t believe them. He—
Wait… where was High Winds?
He scanned the sky. He lost track of her when he imagined some busybody yapping about their washer holding their clothes hostage. Did she already descend and duck behind a building? Was she really good at living in clouds? And where was Misty Fly?
A gasp escaped him when his first question was answered. High Winds emerged from a cloud, barreling out of it like she owned that airspace.
He wiped his brow. He didn’t even know he was sweating buckets by just looking for her. Why the heck was he trying to get a sweat on an ‘early morning run’, when he could get it by panicking about High Winds' flight routine?
Speaking of her routine, High Winds twirled out of her rolling pin move (he didn’t know what it was called, but it was quite a lot of rolls!) and was now hovering way up there, her wings spread out wide. The sun framed her nicely, surrounding her in a bright shine. It looked like she was wearing a halo over her head with how the light refracted off her. Was she some god-like creature?
Anon shook his head and smiled. No, she wasn’t like that. She looked more like an angel. His angel, if he played his cards right once again.
See, the last date they had gone on went way better than Anon had expected. Those cucumber sandwiches? The greatest call he had ever made in the game of poker he called life. However, the events that lead up to them? Well…
There was this moment where he was trying to adjust to the chair he was given. This restaurant didn’t have one that could exactly fit him. The chair was way too small, and when he tried sitting in it, he could hear it creak, crunchy as can be. Each noise felt like it was begging for this alien to leave. Luckily, management had a pony trot over with a large cushion in their hooves to at least make the wooden chair feel better for him, but he ended up asking for a bigger chair, which ended up being one that was only a bit higher, and by a bit, it was no joke. A literal bit sized in height. So, with the cushion set in place, he folded his leg in and sat on it, having to remind himself to shift every-so-often to avoid his leg going numb.
The man-made booster seat was only the beginning of the date. While he had fumbled with his posture and his leg throughout the date, Anon also had to deal with High Winds, who was trying to keep her composure. She fidgeted frequently in her seat, and her right ear twitched so hard that it would soon find a new frequency to tune into, at least, that’s what he imagined. It was cute, to a degree, but he wasn’t sure if it was her own nerves being bundled into one, or if she was trying to restrain a laugh because her inner radio host made a funny noise. Whatever it was, he hadn’t gotten an answer from her about it. There was somepony else who was struggling more than they were.
Their poor waitress, who, bless her heart, had been so sweet when she had first introduced herself, decided to re-introduced herself in the worst way possible. While he and High Winds were talking about how nice the place looked, their waitress had trotted toward them, a platter with hot fumes dissipating above it in her grasp. She was about to announce her presence and probably say something quirky to them. However, her forelegs had disagreed with her intentions. They decided to turn inward, causing her to tip over like a cow in a field. Thankfully, Anon hadn’t stared too intently at his date to notice her. He hobbled out of his seat, somehow getting his leg out from underneath him in time to not fall over too, and, with enough gumption (basically it was all of his), he had leaned into the falling mare’s trajectory.
He not only caught her, but he managed to catch the drinks and food he and her date had ordered without spilling any of it. His hand had latched onto the platter like his fingers were magnetically attracted to it. Not that his hand was the only thing grabbing at it. The mare’s wing was holding onto it too, cupping it closer to her than to him. Everyone had collectively sighed, and excited thank you’s and compliments were shared, but there was one thing that had made Anon smile not only in the past, but in the present too.
The look on his date’s face.
High Winds had gasped and gawked at him like he was some super hero, clutching onto the mare that nearly spilled their drinks and food. He could remember how her green eyes lit up under the lamplight that hovered over their booth and how her lips curled up as she spoke about what he had done. Those words of endearment had tickled his eardrums and he had felt like he was on cloud nine, but…
The embarrassed apologies of the waitress had slowed down their date a little. A lot of time was spent making sure the mare wasn’t going to turn into the epitome of a typed apology in the thousands of words. He could sympathize with the waitress, even if he had never seen a restaurant uniform plastered on his body. Maybe he should’ve applied to one of those hole-in-a-wall diners when he was back on Earth. Would’ve helped his funds look a little less… small. Maybe. The money he had gotten from his previous job was enough though, even if it did cost him his sanity.
He let out a snort as he focused back on High Winds. She was descending rapidly now, her wings close to her sides. Those goggles of hers were on too, saving her eyes from the shear she was probably feeling right now. While his heart threatened to drop right out of his body as he watched her dot grow closer and closer to the ground, Anon knew that she had trained for these types of stunts daily. She was a Wonderbolt for crying out loud! Everything would be okay, right?
He gulped and stacked a pillow on his already worn pillow. He had to get a better view of this one, especially if his mare was involved!
His mare…
He smiled as his mind drifted back to that first date again. After that entire fiasco had happened and they were given their meals… the room had become way warmer than before. Anon had felt the temperature soar, his cheeks burning. He couldn’t help it. Her lidded expression, her goofy smile, how colorful those eyes of hers were, a saturated green that drew him in, and her voice carrying an oh-so-casual chat about her life. Even those ears of hers as they perked up when he spoke about his life.
He wanted to see her smile again. He wanted to see that and more.
Anon couldn’t contain his excitement, his smile morphing into a toothy grin. He was so ready to surprise her, even if he had only a minute amount of time to get everything set up. If only she was here and not barrelling right toward him with a panicked expression washed over her—wait.
WAIT.
Anon shrieked like a girl as he witnessed her fly right over him. The gust of wind he felt nearly made his picnic basket’s lid tear right off. Thankfully, the basket itself was further to the right, hidden behind a nearby bush, so the gust didn’t hit it as hard as it could’ve. It didn’t stop him from shoving his arm out toward it, his hand securing that lid like it was the last thing it would ever do. Granted, he didn’t feel that entire action. The only thing he could feel was the rough wood texture gracing his hand. Everything else was numb to the whiplash that had tackled him head-on. Heck, he couldn’t even feel his nose moving.
Had she clipped him by accident?
He let go of the basket, got up, and checked himself over. His clothes were still on him (it wasn’t that powerful of a gust!) and his skin looked normal. Maybe she didn’t clip him.
Anon brought his arm up and wiped his brow. Okay, he felt that at least. Windswept nerves, he supposed. Hopefully that low of a fly-by wasn’t intentional! If he was standing when she had flown over him, well, Anon could only imagine the concussion… and the multiple hospital visits. The IV drip even—
A sudden cough made Anon hold his chest before promptly clearing his throat. He looked around once more, and found that no other ponies were in sight. In fact, that made Anon wonder if she had crashed behind him. He didn’t hear a thud or any loud crashing noise for that matter, but she wasn’t anywhere in his purview. She must have flown back over to where she and Misty Fly were to report in, which means…
It was time to set up the blanket. He could do that much while he waited for his mare to swing on by.
Hopefully Misty Fly and Spitfire didn’t keep her for too much longer. He wanted to congratulate her on one of the craziest flight sequences of all time!
High Winds was panicking.
After landing rather awkwardly herself, she flicked up her goggles just in time to see Misty land in a heap of her own feathers. High Winds galloped over to where her teammate and (now that she landed) friend planted herself. High Winds hooves became numb to the grass and tarmac she darted across. All she could hear was her own thoughts racing with her heart, and her heart was winning with its erratic beat.
Soon enough, she was right by Misty’s side. The mare was laying on her back, panting heavily. She had somehow flicked up her goggles, so those green eyes were staring up at the sky, not even looking in High Winds’ direction.
That all changed when High Winds poked her head in front of Misty’s field of view.
“M-Misty?”
“S-Sweet Celestia, Windy…” Misty’s eyes flickered over to her. “W-What happened?”
High Winds sighed, her friend’s nickname for her shining through. “I don’t know what happened to you. I saw you land like this and—”
“I’m n-not talking about that,” Misty breathed. She grunted as she tried to push herself up, but High Winds noticed that her friend was shaking like a leaf. “I’m talking about—”
“It’s all my fault. I should’ve noticed your signal sooner.”
Misty let out an airy laugh. “N-No, it’s… okay—”
“No, it’s not!” High Winds shouted. She took a deep breath before she continued, “The fly out was supposed to happen way higher than that! I…” Her wings sagged as her voice trailed off. She whimpered while her lungs complained, begging for more air through her nostrils. “I-I was supposed to look for your second signal. Instead, I put us both in danger because I was too in my own head about him.”
“H-Him?” Misty said with a stutter. She had rolled over now, lying comfortably on her stomach while she looked at High Winds with a slight tilt of her head.
All High Winds could do was nod. “You know who I’m talking about.”
Misty Fly looked down at her own forehooves.
High Winds sighed and furled her wings back to her sides. “We were going to meet today after practice. Somewhere by the castle, was what Anon told me.” She swallowed her nerves, which were burning fiercely. “It probably doesn’t matter now. I’ll have to send him yet another letter telling him we need to reschedule. And knowing Spitfire, she'll have me flying laps around HQ before I can even send it to him.”
Misty gulped down what High Winds assumed was her nerves. “If it means anything, she’ll have me doing laps too.” She scooted closer to High Winds. “I… could’ve done s-something else other than flail my hooves at you.”
A smile cracked through the pain but High Winds suppressed it with an awkward chuckle. “Thanks for trying to cheer me up, Misty, but she’s not going to pull you into this when you at least tried to do something.” She hung her head. “I can’t wait for Spitfire to tell me how—”
“—how much you both screwed up?”
High Winds’ eyes widened. She gulped and turned to the voice that she knew all too well. Upon seeing Spitfire’s glare, High Winds quickly bent her foreleg and shakily brought it up near her goggles. Unfortunately for her, her nerves were on fire, making her hoof jolt in the process. The jagged movement nearly knocked her goggles clear off her head, since her ears had splayed back against her skull. Fortunately for her, she was somehow able to grab them, stifling a yelp as she clasped them in her forehooves.
Carefully, she strapped them back on her head, adjusting them so they weren’t covering her eyes. Then, when she was all set, she took a deep breath. It was going to be okay. Even if she held her stance in a not-so-confident way, she was going to be okay. The least Spitfire could do was tell her to pack her bags, turn in her uniform in the barracks, and return to the tarmac with all her belongings so that way she can return home without a job anymore—
High Winds’ mind derailed as her emotions took over. She held back her tears by closing her eyes, only for her to flash them open again. She had to not only observe rank, but she also needed to convince herself that she was going to be fine, even if her legs were turning into jelly. She was a victim of her own consequences, deemed to be rooted in place (for now) while Spitfire approached with a stare that threatened to pluck her right off the ground and toss her into the air within a moment’s notice to see if High Winds guts would be a better decoration piece than her near-death stunt she flubbed up with her incessant thoughts.
“High Winds,” Spitfire addressed, grit gravelly as can be in her voice.
“M-Ma’am?”
High Winds could hear Misty Fly move beside her. She probably just got up to stand to observe Spitfire’s rank too. A salute in all—wait, she herself wasn’t saluting Spitfire!
Spitfire cleared her throat. “What happened?”
“Ma’am, it wasn’t her fault—”
“Wow, I didn’t know your name was High Winds, Misty Fly,” Spitfire barked.
High Winds spared a peek through her peripherals to see Misty’s ears splayed against her head. “Sorry, ma’am,” Misty muttered.
Spitfire’s glare turned to High Winds, which made the latter take a gulp of fresh air.
“So?”
“It was my fault, ma’am,” High Winds said, shakily.
“Your fault?”
“I-I was supposed to pull up way earlier but I was distracted and—”
Spitfire growled, which made High Winds whole train of thought collapse like she did on the runway. “You were distracted?”
“Y-Yes, ma’am and I was trying to stop myself but I was too focused on the distraction and—”
“Stop, High Winds. Just… stop,” Spitfire spat, before she began a slow trot back and forth between the two of them. Each step echoed in High Winds’ ears, like a clock above the barracks entrance that ticked and tocked as she walked inside. Each step reminded her that it was only a few more steps until she was kicked off the team. All over her excitement for a date.
She really was the worst pony to ever step their hooves on this tarmac and—
“This isn’t news, High Winds.”
Spitfire’s voice sprung High Winds’ attention right back to reality. “You were very distracted. That was made abundantly clear from Misty Fly’s poor attempt at playing charades.”
High Winds spared a glance over at Misty, who was now sporting a very pronounced frown.
“And you, High Winds, were the main cause of that,” Spitfire declared, standing directly in front of High Winds with a glare that could burn her where she stood. “And while I could stand here and wait for you to tell me why, I already know the reason.”
High Winds gulped. “Ma’am—”
Spitfire took a very shaky breath and sighed. “You… were thinking about him, weren’t you?”
The tone that Spitfire’s voice carried made High Winds’ wings twitch and burn with a sudden itch that she couldn’t reach at the moment. She couldn’t tell Spitfire what was truly going on with her, could she? Granted, it sounded like Spitfire already knew, so what did High Winds have to hide? Her dignity, maybe? At this point, she had already come to terms with signing a resignation letter when she returned to the barracks…
Oh, phooey! If Spitfire really wanted her dignity, then she was not going to give it up that easily. And High Winds was committed to that, even if she knew it would make her very late to her date with Anon.
She hoped if the words that were about to escape her muzzle kept her on the team, that Anon was okay with rescheduling their date again…
She nodded. “I-I was.”
High Winds’ stutter jolted the execution of those words to the point that she was mentally kicking herself. Those hopes she had earlier? Gone. The resignation letter she imagined in her head? Signed in triplicate. The glance she spared over at Misty? Well…
It was a stare that could catch desperation and confusion at the same time. That glance soon became a full blown assessment. Misty’s goggles were on the ground, and her mouth nearly joined it, her muzzle agape. Her eyes were wide, and she was barely even blinking. The only movement High Winds could see was Misty’s gaze darting to and fro between herself and Spitfire. Why was Misty so shocked? She had nothing to hide now—
“Wow, I was hoping you would get a bit more nervous, not try to admit it, and maybe come up with a different excuse…”
Spitfire’s long-winded explanation made High Winds even more confused. She looked over at Spitfire and raised a wing, as if that would make her captain stop her little tirade. “Ma’am?”
“...but here you are, raising your wing like we’re a bunch of fillies in school!” Spitfire finished. The sheepish grin was something High Winds would never think to see on her captain’s face, but it all too soon disappeared though, an intense glare and a firm voice replaced it, “You got it bad. I can tell.”
Heat burned on High Winds’ face. The urge to hide her face with her wings was more likely than her escaping punishment for her actions, but she stood her ground and stayed still. “What do you mean?”
“High Winds, you’ve been talking about him for the past two weeks!” High Winds glared at Misty, whose grin made her all the more embarrassed. “You’re not saying I’m lying.”
“I… what am I supposed to say?” High Winds asked no one specifically, her words laced in anxiousness. She let out a whine. “I can’t stop thinking about him!”
Spitfire shook her head. “Jeopardizing a routine let alone your own life because you’re head over hooves over somepony you just met?” She forcibly blew through her nostrils, as if she was going to snap her wings open at any moment. “High Winds, you shouldn’t have your head in the clouds when you’re actually in the clouds!”
High Winds felt like crying, flying, and skipping rope with her dignity, all at once. And Misty didn’t offer her too much sympathy, if her disdain wasn’t any more apparent on her face. This was High Winds to own now, not—
Her train of thought was interrupted by Spitfire nudging High Winds’ side with her wing. “I should have your wings clipped right now.” She growled into a defeated sigh. “But I’m not tossing my two best fliers over a miscommunication that could’ve ended in a hospital visit or worse.”
“Capt, we…” Misty began, only to let her voice trail off.
It looked like Spitfire didn’t even hear her. Their Captain’s brows furrowed, and she let out a dissatisfied groan. “Screw it. Hit the showers.”
High Winds gasped. “But—”
“No buts. I need you two ready for our upcoming show in Las Pegasus, and I’m not having a near-death experience messing with the both of you, especially you, Misty Fly.”
When Spitfire uttered Misty’s name, High Winds spared another look over at her friend. She hadn’t noticed, but her mane had several hairs completely bent out of shape. The pained grimace on her face didn’t help matters, and High Winds could only think of what it was like for Misty too, to be reprimanded in this way.
High Winds felt like she was back home, being told by her mother for the umpteenth time to get her hooves out of the cookie jar, only to then have that cookie jar tossed out the house and for her room to be locked with her inside until she explained to her mother what she did wrong. Back then, that was a lesson she desperately needed, but she didn’t know that the lesson was being given to her again, in a whole completely different way. A much more real way than before.
Spitfire frowned, which made High Winds puzzled. “Don’t look like I actually clipped both of your wings. You’re not on the reserves. You’re still on the team.”
“Ma’am, it’s not that. It’s just…” High Winds began, only to sigh. “We’re just a bit shaken up is all.”
“Which is why we’ll resume practice in a couple days,” Spitfire replied. She eyed them up once more before shaking her head. “If you need anyone to talk to about today’s practice, let one of us know. I know Soarin’ and Fleetfoot could help you both out as much as I could, when they’re here that is.” She tried to smile, but High Winds could tell that Spitfire’s lips were failing to stay up. “And trust me, I’ve been in both of your horseshoes. Best to not let the stress of today eat you up inside. Find somepony to talk to about it.”
She took a sigh of a relief and began to salute—
“However, unlike Misty Fly, who when she returns will be working with Soarin’ on how to effectively communicate with a teammate mid-flight, High Winds, you will be flying twenty-five iterations of what you were supposed to do today with me as your wingpony.” Those brows had furrowed again, glare stern. “I’m not risking you doing this again with Misty Fly if you can’t learn to focus.”
Her wings sagged. That was what she was fearing the most. Having to come back here to do this on her own—the thought made High Winds falter, her confidence waning. She sucked in a deep breath and looked over at Misty, who was… smiling?
“Ma’am?”
A sigh escaped Spitfire. “Yes, Misty Fly?”
“Despite everything… I think we can still follow through with, y’know?”
Spitfire raised a brow. “What do you mean follow through with—” She stopped herself and gasped. “Oh… Oh.” She spared an actual smile. “You don’t need my permission for that.”
“Thank you, Capt.” Misty saluted her, which Spitfire nodded.
“At ease you two,” Spitfire barked, before she turned tail and trotted away, leaving High Winds and Misty alone.
Together.
After what she had done—
Suddenly, the wind was knocked out of her lungs. She gasped as Misty had latched onto her, ensnaring her in a hug. High Winds stood there, frozen, not sure if she should actually reciprocate or not.
“M-Misty?”
“We’re not getting replaced by reservists!” Misty exclaimed before she nuzzled High Winds’ cheek.
“That’s what you were looking so down about?”
A nod answered that question quickly, and a smile grew too. “Of course! When she said both of us were at fault, I thought we were both getting kicked off the team.”
High Winds blinked rapid fire before weakly chuckling. “Lucky for us, we’re not.”
Even though she was laughing, it felt like she didn’t deserve to. Her hooves were tingly, and her muzzle numb, like she had just spun out of a roll again. All of this was so overwhelming, and now that the adrenaline had tapered off, she was left with being a bundle of nerves that was way more tired than she thought she was mid-flight.
And it was all because of her silly mind wrapping around the idea of being with Anon today. And now those plans… She didn’t know if she could face him without thinking of how badly she flubbed up today’s routine and how tired she felt.
High Winds hadn’t moved since Spitfire left. She hadn’t even returned Misty’s muzzle. She was too in her own head to even notice that Misty was now standing in front of her—wait, Misty was standing in front of her! High Winds tilted her head. “Misty?”
Misty smiled. “Got an emergency going on up there?”
“Uhh… what?”
A giggle spurred embarrassment to show through, heat piercing High Winds’ cheeks. “Sounds like it.” Misty shook her head. “Can’t believe we got ourselves in this situation.”
A smile escaped High Winds, and so did a laugh, somehow. “I… I can’t really believe it either.”
Misty offered a wing to her and wrapped it around High Winds’ back. She accepted it (High Winds didn’t have much of a choice here), choosing to close her eyes for a moment. It was great to know that, despite what happened, she had a friend to still lean on to comfort her and—
“So, Anon, huh?”
High Winds’ eyes snapped open, embarrassment burning her face as she attempted to reply, “Y-Yeah. Yo-you already knew that.”
“I know, you told me first.” She stepped a little closer to High Winds and… nuzzled her again, which she reciprocated. “I’m happy for you.”
“I’m glad—”
“—even though you almost got me killed today.”
“Heh,” High Winds let out, sheepishly grinning. She really wanted to crawl out of this embrace she was in, but Misty had her hook, line, and sinker. “I’m sorry about that.”
“No problem,” Misty replied with a grin too.
“Just like that?”
Misty smirked and let go of High Winds, who took the opportunity to step away from Misty as she spoke, “I could try and repay the favor if you want to try that stunt again—”
High Winds threw her hooves out at Misty. And her wings too. “No-no, we don’t need to do that again!”
The two took one more look at each other before letting out a laugh. Maybe just talking to each other was what they both needed after that near death experience. Misty trotted up to High Winds and nuzzled her once more, before she began to walk ahead of her.
“Come on,” Misty said, looking back at High Winds. She beckoned her with a wing. “I gotta show you something.”
“Show me what?” High Winds trotted alongside her friend. “Shouldn’t we hit the showers?”
“Pfft,” Misty sputtered out. “You could, but I don’t think you’d want to keep him waiting.”
High Winds’ eyes widened. “H-Him?”
“Mmmhm.”
That’s all High Winds heard. Her mind was now racing with her mistakes, and it was winning. Him. It couldn’t be, could it? Anon was here?
That tired state? Gone with the wind. She was wide awake now, and she didn’t know what to do with herself. She didn’t even know how she’d react to him. She didn’t deserve to see him after what she had done… Did she?
She walked silently beside Misty in silent anxiousness, hoping her friend wasn’t playing with her heartstrings.
Surprisingly, it didn’t take long for Anon to set everything up. The blanket was easy to unravel and throw—err, float down. Gravity was awesome even here. He did try to make the blanket as perfect as possible when it had finally landed, fixing every wrinkle he could see that irritated him enough to see the whole blanket as red. Rocks helped settle those wrinkles out, which made him all the more calm when he set the final piece to the puzzle in the center of it. The basket sat there proudly, lidded and all, with High Winds’ pillow on the other side of it.
“And… good! I think I’m ready.”
“No you’re not.”
Anon spun around. Oh, he forgot Spike 2.0 was here with his silly gold helmet on his head. Where was he when Anon got nearly clipped by an out of control Wonderbolt?
“I’m not?” he asked, a high-brow accompanying his head tilt.
Spike 2.0 emerged from the thicket behind Anon’s makeshift bachelor pad. “Have you ever dated any mares prior to her?”
“Well,” Anon began, tapping his chin with a finger. “There was this one time—”
“Other than Roseluck.”
Anon felt what was going to be a grin collapse like a verse in an Eminem track. “No.”
Spike 2.0 groaned and threw a foreleg out toward his future guest’s pillow. “Surprised you didn’t get grilled by Princess Cadance about this, then.”
“We’re not exactly on speaking terms after I noogied Shining Armor in front of the Royal Guard.”
“Wait, that actually happened?”
Anon nodded. “His ego was crushed.”
Laughter erupted from Spike 2.0, his forehooves folding into his barrel. “I wish you had taken a picture or something!”
Said stallion continued to roll on his back, ruffling up the blanket. Again. “Can you get off the blanket?”
He froze before rolling off said blanket, his fur now blending in with the grass.
“Thanks,” Anon added, before Spike 2.0 pawed a forehoof towards him mid-laugh. “And careful, your wings are going to snap again if you’re not careful.”
“Oh, right…”
The critic and mobile laugh track was not actually named Spike, nor was he the little dragon that was next to Princess Twilight every single day he had lived and breathed. No, this ‘Spike’ was a green pegasus stallion, suited up in gold plated armor that the barracks had sitting around—just kidding, he was a guard. They wouldn’t give anypony within a mile radius a set of that fine jewelry even if they had begged. Had to be part of the guard to throw that garb on. Anon knew this through and through, but he always told Spike that the stallion’s mother had secretly dragged him in by the nape of his neck to a guardhouse, since he was such a rough and tumble type of guy.
Anon said it that way too. Every. Single. Time.
Safe to say, it made the stallion very, very agitated.
See, his actual name was Strong Pike. He had been a royal guard for… a couple years now, and he was part of Spearhead’s little group. Celly had his potential rotting away in some guard post outside the castle, probably doing nothing but playing cards and standing around all day. A dull yet well-respected job (somehow), but he wasn’t judging…oh who was he kidding, Anon was judging Strong Pike. He was judging him harshly.
Anon was also judging Strong Pike because he was Anon’s assigned guard. The goofball wasn’t around when Anon got doused with cloudwater since the whittle guy was out ‘sick’. Probably was an excuse he made up to skip out on watching the ‘green human’. It wasn’t Anon’s fault his wardrobe was majorly green!
Still, thankfully, Strong Pike was out of commission. That dolt would’ve bolted right at her before he even realized it was 1) a mistake, and 2) a Wonderbolt who landed too hard on a raincloud. A laugh escaped Anon as he thought about it.
“I don’t think you should be laughing at that, Anon.”
Anon snorted. “Sorry, I was thinking about you being out ‘sick’ a couple weeks ago.”
The guard rolled his eyes. “If you’re still upset that I was gone that day, then that’s on you.”
“Pfft, upset?” Anon began. He flashed the stallion a wicked smirk. “You’re mistaken. I was glad you weren’t there. I wouldn’t have gotten to date High Winds if you were.”
Those green wings sagged a bit. “I wouldn’t have been sitting next to you on a bench.”
“That’s not the point, Spike, but you do—”
Anon yelped as Strong Pike poked him with his sword. That poor excuse of sperm left his spear back at the barracks? What did he do? Bash a colleague over the head with it and split in two? He usually carried one of them but now, of all times, he had the more convenient poke-r?
“You want to test me?”
That smirk wormed back onto Anon’s face. “You’re basically me but as a stallion. So, sure! Why not?”
Spike sighed and let the sword fall close to the ground. The tip of it hovered over the blanket. At least he was courteous about the blanket. “You’re insufferable, you know that?”
“Of course. Celly tells me that every day.” He chuckled into his hand, which earned Anon another groan. “So, what was your deal with me not being ready?”
“Other than me thrashing against your blanket?”
Anon narrowed his gaze, brow furrowed and all. It didn’t intimidate Strong Pike though, his newly acquired smirk standing firm on his face.
“Yes, other than that,” Anon muttered, before letting out a sigh of agony.
“Don’t worry son, you’ll learn mare etiquette yet.”
“Shut up and tell me that empathic horse romance advice you got before I make Sir Laughs-A-Lot into a failed attempt at origami.”
“Buy me dinner first.”
Anon rolled his eyes. “That’s not on the table.”
“You’re right, there’s a blanket instead. And luckily for your mare, I’m not invited, because I’d have that thing scooted up against mine in a heartbeat.”
Those eyes of Anon’s rolled back to the right spot, now eying up the pillow across from him like it was needing to be destroyed by a heat-seeking missile. “You’re… suggesting her pillow to be closer to mine?”
Strong Spike tilted his head. “Well, yeah. She’s into you, right?”
“Then keep speaking it, if you don’t mind.”
Anon imagined her face, how her smile framed it so well, how cute her wrinkled up muzzle was, and how when she laughed, her ear twitched in tandem, and how when she said those words, she drew closer to him, running her side up against his pant leg and—
He grabbed his collar and cleared his throat. “Uhm, y-yeah. Definitely.”
That drew an eyebrow raise from Strong Pike. “Interesting reaction.”
“Yeah,” Anon absentmindedly replied, before shaking his head. “Sorry, just thought about her.”
Strong Pike laughed, his bellows ever so low. It irritated Anon, for some reason, but he let the guard have his moment. “Well, you should probably think about her being right next to you.”
Anon raised a brow. “Why’s that?”
“Because she hasn’t seen you in two weeks,” Strong Pike said with a bit of grit. “Most mares would be latching onto their partner if they were away from them for that long. Pegasi mares especially. They love to hug their stallions close.”
Anon felt a heat burn his face. He should’ve known— “So I should move it?”
“Definitely. Trust me.” Strong Pike put the sword he was holding onto back in his sheathe. “From experience, my mare would start doubting if I loved her if I didn’t have her right beside me.”
“That’s because you’re married, you goof.”
“Hey, I married a pegasus, so I’m the resident expert here. Just… trust me, okay? My mare was like that too when we were starting to date.” A goofy smile grew on Strong Pike’s face, before it flatlined to a less-goofy, more stern look. “So put that pillow closer to you, you gelding.”
“Sheesh, don’t need to call me dickless—” The guard’s laughter echoed in Anon’s ears as he moved the pillow to his side, propping it to his left. “There, better?”
The guard sputtered out the last few laughs he had before giving Anon a nod. “You’ll do well, Mr. Alien.”
Anon rolled his eyes. “Thanks for your valuable input, Spike. Now, you should probably get back to doing… whatever you were doing earlier.”
“Hiding in plain sight?”
“More like stalking, but if you want to sugarcoat your job description, then sure. Why not!”
“Paid stalking works,” Strong Pike said with a shrug. He turned and trotted back behind a few bushes. “If you need me, I’ll be here!”
“Won’t need you!”
“Tell that to Princess Celestia then, she’s a—”
Anon ignored the rest of that comment and laid back down on the blanket, his head propped up against his pillow. He shifted a bit, trying to make himself comfortable but struggling to find that sweet spot—oh, that was a twig—before inevitably sighing and closing his eyes. He waited for a somewhat consistent flapping of wings to grace his ears, but he heard nothing. Not even a crunch or a rustling noise to let him know that Strong Pike was nearby. Maybe the guards were taught to tiptoe so silently even in the brush that it defied sound entirely, or maybe Strong Pike did flap his wings and he missed him by a country mile. Regardless, Anon stayed there, on his probably still wrinkled blanket (he gave up on that dream of it being perfect), his mind now adrift, hitched on the idea of what it would be like with High Winds beside him.
The one that settled in his mind was a version of her that would be like a dog. She would nuzzle up against his side, let out a happy little titter, and look up at the clouds as they passed the pony and human by. Anon would point out each one, since clouds could form those funny shapes in the sky, and say something goofy after each one. Like, wow, why did that one look like a clown attempting to do the dougie at a circus? And why was the one next to it pretending they were a gunslinger out West? The Big Iron on its ‘hip’ wasn’t even reloaded! She might laugh, or she’d look at him weirdly like ‘what do you mean a gunslinger?’ or ‘what’s a dougie?’ and he’d have to explain himself and expose his deranged ramblings with undulated hand gestures that even Tony Soprano would question. She’d probably get even more confused, or try to change the subject, but at least he’d get his point somewhat across. The references would probably overload her.
He took a deep breath. He got this. All he needed to do was not screw this up. Even if he had a track record of screwing things up (no thanks to Blueblood).
Anon opened his eyes and flipped his body over. Laying on his left arm and his head resting up against the pillow, he cast his gaze out beyond the brush and—
“Is he really out here?”
“Yes. Anon told me to bring you over here and—”
His eyes met hers.
“—there he is.”
Misty Fly’s voice fell to the wayside, just like the wing that had pointed straight at him. High Winds emerged from the bush blocking her view, and when she saw him, not only did she excitedly trot in place, letting out a very girly squeal of happiness in the process, she did something not even Anon expected.
She took to the sky.
“High Winds?”
His voice only carried for a moment, as he lost any other words he could even say to her. She literally took his breath away, as soft as that had sounded. He didn’t care—he flipped over to get a better view of her, his back laying against the blanket. She flapped happily above, hovering over where her pillow was previously placed, where no tree or bush could block his view of her. She brought a forehoof to the end of her muzzle, as if she was posing for a picture mid-air. Unfortunately for Anon, he didn’t have a camera, but every blink was a snapshot of her, in that very moment, smiling down at him.
That all changed when she rushed toward him just like before.
“Anon!”
With barely any time to spare, Anon braced himself for impact, his arms outstretched. She landed square into his chest, ejecting some air out of him but not enough to make him wince in pain. She giggled as those arms of his wrapped around her, pulling her into him.
“Hey,” he whispered.
“Hey yourself,” she replied, giggling. She nuzzled his cheek before pushing into the crook of his neck.
She smelled like a spring breeze.
“Well, I’ll leave you two lovebirds alone,” Misty Fly said, turning tail and waving a wing over at them.
“Thanks for the assist,” Anon replied as he was smothered by High Winds.
A giggle of a different octave rang out. “Anything for my best friend.”
Anon heard those hoofsteps clip-clop their way to silence. Either that or he couldn’t hear them anymore due to High Winds nuzzling the ever-living hell out of his ear.
He turned his attention back to her. Strong Pike was right. High Winds was all over Anon. Her body was on top of his chest, her head nestled comfortably on his shoulder. She nestled herself pretty good, what with her wings somehow already to her sides. She must have furled them before she landed almost on top of him. Her mane still held form, while those goggles of hers had slipped off her head (probably mid-nuzzle), probably somewhere where her pillow was.
He had to get her under control, even though he was totally comfortable with her nuzzling into him.
“Hey…”
That one word sprung one of her ears up high. After it took a brief moment to process his voice, she popped her head up, her eyes meeting his once more. “Huh?”
He chuckled behind his free hand, while his other one pulled her closer to his chest, making her let out a high pitched squeal. “It’s good to see you too.”
She giggled, a blush painting her cheeks. “Sorry about this—”
“Pfft, you don’t see me complaining.” He smirked. “Just wasn’t expecting you to barrel right into me.”
“I can’t help it.” She leaned in closer to nuzzle his face a bit more. “I missed you.”
He reciprocated, nuzzling her back. “Right back at you, Miss Bolt.”
She pulled back and let out a cross between an airy laugh and a disappointed whinny. “That one is bad.”
Anon raised his hands. “I’ll figure out a different one.”
She put a hoof on his chest, drawing a circle on his shirt. “I’m not opposed to you calling me ‘Winds’.”
“That just sounds like I forgot the first part of your name,” he retorted, which earned him a sigh. “Could just call you ‘babe’.”
“Babe?”
“Mmhmm,” Anon brought his hand to the circle-drawing mare’s hoof, stopping it cold in its tracks. They both stared into each other's eyes. “Babe.”
“O-Okay, I see the appeal,” High Winds aka ‘babe’ replied. That sounded so goofy in his head—wait, was she twiddling with her forehooves? “I’ll…. I’ll let you have it for now until you get a bit more creative.”
He puckered his lips. “Creative? By the time I come up with something new, you’ll get confused I’m not calling you that.”
“Then figure out something new by our next date!” She chirped while she nudged him with a forehoof.
Rolling his eyes, Anon drew his other arm over her barrel, leaving her plastered against him. “You’re lucky you’re worth it.”
A happy sigh escapes her lips before laying her head on his chest. “Misty’s been worried that you and I weren’t going to meet up again.”
Those words tugged at the recesses of Anon’s brain. “You can definitely blame Luna for that this time.”
High Winds popped her head off his chest, while her ears perked up to the sky, as if in search of a new signal. “Really? Princess Luna had you held up this entire week?”
“She’s… a complicated mare.”
A head tilt followed suit, that mare’s mane still holding form. “Huh. I would’ve thought Princess Celestia would be pestering you more.”
“She does, just not the way Luna does it.” Anon propped himself up, using his elbows like armchair rests. “When Luna’s stressed about something, she lets it fester and refuses to ask anyone for help, so it’s my responsibility to prod her about it.”
“You have to?”
“More like I’m forced to, by Celly’s hoof.” Anon took a moment to blow off some steam, air forcibly ejecting from his nostrils like a burning mist. He cleared his throat. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m happy to help them as it gets me away from Blueblood, but sometimes Luna’s issues require more than a human’s intervention.”
“It gets that bad?”
He snorted. “It can if Celly isn’t in a wings length. Had to get a guard to flag her down a couple times.” Images of a somewhat tired guard standing in front of the doorway to Luna’s chambers were fresh in his mind. He shook his head. “Don’t get it twisted, though. Celly has had her days too. And I’m the one who had to step in because Raven was out sick this past week.”
High Winds’ eyes widened. “And they didn’t have somepony else?”
“I’m that ‘somepony else’.”
“I thought you said you worked only for Prince Blueblood?”
“As his advisor? Yes. But if Blueblood doesn’t need my ‘smelliness stinking up his room’, I get sent to the two sisters, depending on the need. Since Raven was out…”
“...you were told to help them out instead.”
“Exactly,” Anon said with a snap of his fingers. “And those two could use a vacation soon. Their schedules are packed.”
She groaned. “Sick ponies getting in the way of our time…”
Anon chuckled at her muttering. “Have the Bolts gotten sick too? Seems like some flu bug bit a lot of ponies in the castle.”
High Winds shook her head. “No, thankfully. Most of them are off today. It was just me and Misty Fly practicing while Spitfire spotted us.”
“Practice went well?”
His mare took a deep shaky breath. “Not exactly, but not every practice is perfect.” He noticed her wings twitching as they slowly unfurled while she continued to speak, “We had a couple rough practices recently. Mostly because we’re trying new things for this stop. Major adjustments.”
Anon raised a brow. “You think you can make the changes in time?”
“I think so,” High Winds replied softly. She let her wings sag, her wingtips grazing his sides. “It’s going to take a lot of practice though. This next stop is key to draw in more of a crowd.”
“Bad attendance?”
A brief blow from High Winds answered that question for him. “Spitfire can’t stop ranting about it.”
She was very tense in his arms. That wasn’t going to fly with him being here.
Anon exhaled forcibly, before resting one of his hands on the back of her neck where her hairs were exposed to his fingers. There, he gently scratched her. “You think you can do anything about it?”
Surprisingly, she hummed happily and exposed more of her neck to him. “Other than flying? Probably not. Usually Spitfire and Soarin are the voice of… reason for us.” He noticed one of her wings really jolted at his scratching, while that smile of hers grew exponentially. “Anon, do you do this for anyone else?”
“No…” he began. He tilted his head. “You were getting tense, so I thought it might be a good idea?”
She let out a brief blow. “Then keep having those ideas. Those little things are weapons.”
Another hum escaped her, her gaze becoming half-lidded.
Anon stopped as that reaction made him pump the brakes on this metaphorical car ride. He needed to shift gears and get this date back on the right lane.
The pause made her tilt her head, but apparently that tilt was a bit too far as she had cracked her neck. It made High Winds wince, which made Anon push off the ground with his hands, forcing him into a sitting position.
“Are you okay?”
She reluctantly shied away from his chest and rolled off him. Quickly, she scrambled to her hooves. “I would be if this wingsuit didn’t catch on my hair!” She frustratedly groaned and craned her head to look back at her wingsuit. “Didn’t notice it until I was already mid-flight.”
He eyedballed the back of her neck, even leaning in to get a better look but not really seeing the zipper she was talking about. “Where’s the zipper?”
“Just below where your hand was.”
Anon brought his hand closer to her neck, this time laying it there to ruffle up her hairs. Maybe he was blind or something, because he wasn’t seeing the culprit just yet. Besides, his eyes had crossed a few too many times since he’s been here. Stupid ponies and them flying laps around him.
He threw that memory in the dumpster deep in the recesses of his mind. They were just foals. He shouldn’t be too hard on them. It wasn’t their fault he made funny faces and made his eyes swim in circles. He knew that High Winds wouldn’t do that to him. Instead, he was trying to help her find a metaphorical needle in a haystack.
He looked a bit further away from her neck, trying to spot this little bugger, only to realize that her suit’s zipper wasn’t exactly in the spot she said. Maybe she had felt something pinch there when she started her flight, because her suit might not have been zipped all the way up, and it somehow shifted during a trick or something. And now she was getting some ghost pain and the real culprit was elsewhere.
“Is it not there?”
“I think your suit wasn’t zipped all the way up.”
She craned her neck back to take a look at what he was saying. She scanned her back before gasping, her muzzle agape. “You’re… wait. That means—”
“It might be on your side somehow.” He walked around her to inspect her right side, because it definitely wasn’t on her left. As he walked around her, he immediately spotted it there, right by her neck. The pesky pain-causer was snug right between a tuft of her surprisingly white hair. “There it is!”
He walked up and checked, his finger flicking against it. It caught quite a few strands.
“Anon?”
“This might hurt, so I’m sorry in advance.”
“Just do it,” she said softly. “If any of the hairs come out with it, I’ll just say I got in a fight with somepony.”
Anon chuckled. “Ponies will totally buy that.”
“I’ll just avoid media duty that week then.” She rolled her eyes before standing her ground, her hooves firmly planted on the blanket. “Do it.”
And he did. He started unzipping her slowly, before realizing that the hair didn’t want to let go. So, he gave that zipper a firm tug and…
Somehow, someway, the zipper was free. A few strands did come with it, though, and judging by High Winds’ face, she was happy it was over. She had hissed out in pain when he pulled on the zipper, but those eyes of hers were thankful that he got it done. Speaking of, they finally locked onto him.
“D-Did you get it?”
“Take a look for yourself,” he replied, pulling on the zipper more so she could see her body come into view.
Her eyes darted to it and she squealed. “Oh, thank you, Anon!” She gave him a wide grin. “Come on, though, rest of the way.”
“Wait, you want me to…”
“Unzip me?” He nodded. “Of course! Misty helps me all the time with mine! It’s okay with you, right?”
He shrugged. “Sure. Should be way easier now.”
And so he unzipped her.
Slowly.
It was like unwrapping a present. Each new rung unveiled more of her surprisingly white hairs. She was a bright white, like a swan, probably even more white than Celly now that he thought about it. It was nearly blinding as he got toward her backside, but then he realized he shouldn’t be staring, so he coughed away his anxiousness and stepped away from his now basically unveiled mare.
“Everything okay back there?”
“Pfft, should be fine for you to just hobble out of it. How about you…?”
“Good, but could you get the other zipper too?”
He walked over to her neck again. “There’s another one?”
“A bit higher up this time. It’s for my face.”
“Wait, this isn’t a full blown one-piece?”
She let out a laugh. “I wish! Then I wouldn’t have to worry about two of them.”
It didn’t take him long to search for this one, as unlike the other, this one hadn’t migrated. It was flung out like it was being begged to be unzipped. So, he indulged. He brought his hand to the zipper and gently pulled up. It glided across the rungs, her mane spilling out from the confines of it. Meanwhile, Anon could see from the corner of his eye one of her forehooves being brought to her face, probably to catch it from falling on the ground. He stopped himself from going all the way up as he felt her tug the mask off her face. He let go and let her do the rest, which she did with ease. It still baffled him that somehow, those hooves and their magic touch could grab onto things. He would love to rant about how that defied logic, but…
High Winds out of uniform? He hadn’t seen this before. And what he was seeing? He…
Those snow white hairs intermixed with the deep blue of her curly mane, and Anon wondered if he had truly seen an angel—he was just joking, but now it seemed like a reality.
Then she turned around, those green eyes lighting up like a thunderstorm in the night sky.
“Thanks for your help, Anon. I couldn’t have…” She trailed off, the sparkling in her eyes kept her from continuing, even though that was not the reality of it. The reality was more confusing as Anon shook his head, blinking away the spellbound view he had, where the glitter that had sparkled around them faded into nothingness, and only his mare stood there, perplexed, like an accordion, her muzzle scrunched up in more ways than he could count.
His awkwardness spoke up first, “Heh. Sorry about that.”
Red plumes blossomed on her face. They spread across it in a way that contrasted the blanket they were standing on. The ruffles on the blanket were like waves, like the curls in her mane.
“I-It’s okay.”
They stood there like two awkward teenagers trying to navigate through a crowded school hall. He let his hand drift behind his own neck, awkwardly chuckling to himself.
She sheepishly smiled. “So…”
“Hmm?”
“What did you have planned for us?”
She kicked the remainder of her suit away. It sat on the edge of the blanket, like a paperweight to keep it down.
He frantically turned to the basket he had brought.
“I-I am happy you asked!” He flipped open the lid and crouched down to get a better look. “Give me a moment, just have to grab them real quick.”
“Them?”
He looked back to see her tilted head. “Well, I heard from a little bird that you really like a certain sandwich.”
“Bird…?” Her ears perked up as the words left her mouth. “You don’t mean—”
“I do mean them,” Anon said with a smirk, before unveiling his creation in his meaty claws.
In his grip were two very fluffy looking crustless peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. He actually had to find the ingredients since, well, not everything was mass produced like back home. Jelly was the easiest to get since Applejack sold some of the best jam around. Sure, it was the apple variant, but he was keen on Zap Apple Jam. Surely High Winds would love that, right? He totally wasn’t nervous about that compared to the peanut butter he had snagged from a vendor at the market a couple days ago! Thankfully he didn’t have to worry about the bread, unless she really wanted the crust back.
He cleared his throat before he brought out some plates with his other hand. He placed a sandwich on each and handed High Winds her share.
“Hope you don’t mind that it’s Zap Apple jam instead of jel—oomph!”
Suddenly, Anon’s world turned upside… up? He had been pushed (he believed) on his back, now blankly staring at the blue skies above. He hadn’t moved his head yet, but he felt her, High Winds, drifting like the singular cloud above them. She scooted up toward him, blocking the view of the cloud with her face.
He was more than okay with this.
“Guess you’re happy?”
Her smile speared his heart with diabetes and a future doctor’s visit. “Very. Peanut butter and jelly sandwiches are my favorite!” He could hear her wings flutter behind her, moving the air around them like a portable rotating fan. She snuggled her face into his neck before letting out a shrill squee. “I am so happy! Thank you, Anon.”
He cupped the smothering High Winds’ cheek. “You’re welcome, babe.”
Then, she leaned in.
…
And she pulled away.
Anon blinked. What did she just do?
He brought his hand to his face. It was gooey, like slobber, but it was cool and warm somehow, at the same time. He assessed it further between his fingers, and was surprised by how it dried. Anon grunted and pulled himself up a bit, only to be welcomed by her stare that she gave him, those green orbs of hers half-lidded, darting across his face, searching for something… whatever that something was. It definitely wasn’t gold. Just like what was on his face.
He knew what she did. He was just not sure how to view it. Ponies were different, and licking someone you like on the cheek? He didn’t know what that meant.
Maybe he needed to read a book about it later.
“Are you okay?”
“I’m not sure. You stopped my brain there for a second.”
“That was way longer than a second.”
He snorted and looked away from her.
She giggled. “And you were staring off into space. Tell me, did you see a ghost?”
He glanced over at her toothy grin. “If I did, then that ghost tackled me over just a bit ago. Do we need to call in the Ghostbusters?”
“Ghostbusters?” Her head tilted to the right, and her ear twitched like no tomorrow. “I don’t think we have those in Equestria…”
Anon frowned. “Nevermind. That’s definitely only a human thing.”
She giggle-snorted. “You and your human-isms.”
“Better get used to them,” he stated, prodding her with a finger on her side. She squeaked, which earned him a glare. “Wow, that’s a noise I haven’t heard from any pony.”
“I-I just wasn’t expecting it.” She turned away to look at her plate, which Anon knew what she was thinking.
It was time to eat.
“Alright, I won’t poke you again if you go eat your—”
She flapped into her spot next to him, and already sat upright to poke at her plate with a forehoof. Somehow, despite the tackle, neither of their sandwiches had gotten mangled by High Winds’ impulsive decision. While she poked her plate, Anon grabbed onto his and the two began to eat together… in silence.
“Eeck!”
Until High Winds made a noise akin to her puking up a hairball like a cat would.
“Hairball?”
She glared at him. “No, I wasn’t expecting the zap that the jam gave me.”
“Isn't it in the name?”
She was about to open her mouth when she subsequently closed it and blinked like a strobe light. Only after she did her reenactment of one did she speak, “That… makes sense.”
He rolled his eyes and set his plate aside. Then, he hopped up and searched in the basket for a couple drinks. He knew he packed them but did he leave at the bottom like a rookie would? They were just a couple of bot—
His hand had found purchase. Two bottles of water. No, they weren’t made of plastic, and no they weren’t made by some weird brand that touted that theirs didn’t have plastic in them. No, they weren’t Aquafina. Anon knew not to dawdle on this one, and since he didn’t have any bottles on hand, he had to get some help for this.
Luckily, Rarity somehow managed to have two on hoof. They were canisters that she had found in the mess she called her house. They were stowed away in some chifferobe she had. Instead of using it for clothes like a normal person—err, pony, she was using it as an impromptu ‘shove everything in there’ storage unit. Now that Anon thought about it, maybe that was normal to do. Either or, in fact.
He snorted and silently thanked Rarity for hoarding random items in a chifferobe. Then, he pulled the two bottles out, them already pre-poured with a helping of water. He handed High Winds one of them.
“Hope this helps you not make that noise again.”
She tilted her head. “Wouldn’t drinking water make it worse?”
Anon shrugged. “It shouldn’t… unless eating zap apples would be like stepping in a dormant puddle of water that had an exposed, live electric cable in it. Electrocution shouldn’t be as self-serving as that!” He chuckled. “The jam acts probably more like pop rocks than anything else.”
“Pop rocks?”
“Candy that ‘pops’ in your mouth. Another human thing.”
She furrowed her brow and pursed her lips. “Hmm, sounds concerning…”
“I don’t have any, if that’s any consolation.”
She snorted. “I’ll stick to the sandwich, thank you.” A giggle escaped her as she nursed the water he gave her.
He rolled his eyes and took a bite out of his PB&J.
The two sat beside each other, eating quietly. Anon had to admit, the date was going even smoother than he expected. Granted, the zipper part was a bump in the road, and seeing her out of uniform was way more unexpected but welcoming in every single way. He actually got to see her face. He actually got to see how she blushed. He got to see what High Winds truly looked like, and she was… well…
He focused on chewing his first bite. The peanut butter worked so well with that zap apple jam. The creamy taste of the butter with the zappy apple flavor… mmph! He was happy. Each zap electrified his taste buds like pop rocks. It made him want to take another bite, but he was too busy enjoying his first one that—okay, he couldn’t help it, another bite was taken! Zap Apple jam was a great call, and he hoped that High Winds liked it as much as he did.
While she did get caught off guard earlier, it seemed like High Winds was enjoying the sandwich now too, if her tail wagging behind her was any indication of that. Not to mention her wings… which unfurled a bit and fluttered as she brought the sandwich to her muzzle. He could hear her hum happily with each bite, something that he’s never heard from her. Even when they were at the restaurant, that noise was not even remotely done. Maybe she had to keep up a facade or something and this was how she truly acted when she was alone.
Maybe… maybe she was comfortable with him?
Nah, that couldn’t be it… right?
High Winds was so comfortable with Anon. It was weird for her to think this way, but she just felt right being by his side. Sure, she was a bit too forward with practically rushing into his arms upon seeing him, and sure, she was very forward in nuzzling his chest and—
She blushed as she chewed her last bite of her sandwich. While it tasted great, she thought it was sweet of him to even make it in the first place. There were a couple things confusing her, though. Like… why here? Why did he want to watch her fly? And more importantly, why did he not think of what she really wanted? Surely he knew what she really wanted! Those pillows were so close to each other. And she really wanted to indulge in it, by laying down next to him, looking into each other's eyes, and snuggling on the blanket that he so kindly put out for them. If only he could read her mind right now, set his food down (or finish it, either worked), and latch onto her, then she would be bragging to everypony about this date.
She peered over at Anon, who was looking at her with wonder. It was… adorable. But she needed answers, and she wanted them before she snuggled into him again.
“A-Anon?”
Her stutter question knocked the human right back into reality. “Yeah? Sorry, I was thinking a bit too much.”
“About what?” she asked, a brow raised.
“I was wondering if you liked what I made for you.”
She flashed a toothy grin in his direction. “Of course I did! It was delicious.” She leaned forward. “It was also sweet of you to ask some ponies who knew me about what I liked to eat.”
He threw an arm behind his head and sheepishly smiled at her. “Yeah, well, I needed some ideas on what to do, so I asked the ponies who knew you the best.”
“Who did you ask?” High Winds asked, tilting her head.
“Misty Fly and Spitfire. Didn’t know Misty Fly was your best friend since foalhood.”
High Winds awkwardly let out an airy laugh, while curling a wing toward her chest. “Heh-eh. Yeah, we’ve been friends for as long as I could remember. We’ve had each other’s backs through thick and thin, and it’s worked out for us.”
“That’s cool, actually. Wish I had someone like that in my life right now.”
“You don’t?”
Anon folded his arms tightly together. “Not really. Being an alien affects my stock as a friend.”
She leaned forward and smiled through half-lidded eyes. “It doesn’t affect you dating me, though.”
“Y-Yeah, it doesn’t,” he began, only to clear his throat. High Winds looked a bit closer at his face, only to see a bit of red tinge smattering his cheeks. Was… he blushing? Had she finally won one over him? He’s been making her blush the whole date thus far!
She smiled. “I’m glad it doesn’t. I’ve really enjoyed my time with you.”
“You have?” he asked, scooting closer to her.
She leaned toward him, being caught by his sudden outstretched arm. “Yeah, but you know what would really make me happy?”
“What’s that?”
“Could you tell me why you wanted our second date to be here?”
Anon tilted his head this time. “I can, but why do you ask? Is there an issue?”
“N-No,” High Winds stuttered. She nuzzled into his shoulder. “I’m just not sure why you picked here of all places.”
She looked up at him with a hopeful smile, but when she started to see him look away, finding the other side of the blanket more interesting, High Winds wondered if Anon’s reasoning was going to be the most uncomfortable thing ev—
“I wanted to see you fly.”
A gasp escaped her. “You… did?”
He nodded. “I wanted to see you fly.” He took a deep breath before he continued, “Back home, we couldn’t fly by ourselves. We had to get these big machines that had metal wings to get us up there. But you and the rest of your team have wings, and it comes naturally to you.”
She… didn’t know how to react. She was too shocked by his reasoning. So she stayed silent, her curiosity growing with each word he said.
“So yeah, I really wanted to see what you and your flight team did. Apparently Spitfire was cool with me since, well, we both knew each other from the security meetings that Princess Celestia had me sit on.”
“Security meetings?”
“Yep. Several of them,” Anon stated with a sudden droll. “It baffled me as to how many they needed. Heightened security measures from that changeling invasion from long ago were still in place, and they wanted to have the guard and the Wonderbolts involved in what new measures needed to be deployed.”
Why hadn’t Spitfire rant about this? “I didn’t even know about that.”
“Probably because those meetings weren’t as interesting as I make them seem. I was only on them because Celly and Luna wanted my perspective, since I was completely foreign to the whole planet. Not that I had much to offer other than what I read from a history textbook or an encyclopedia article online.”
High Winds’ lips curled into an ‘O’. “I see…”
“Those meetings didn’t really matter outside being able to meet Spitfire and Soarin’. They were very nice to me and were really curious about me, unlike Blueblood.” He groaned before he continued, “And since they were nice to me, I wanted to know more about the Wonderbolts. That’s why I figured out that you were one of them when we first met.”
She snorted. “Wasn’t an immediate reaction, though.”
Anon frowned. “I blame brain fog.”
She nuzzled into his shoulder again. “Despite the brain fog, I’m glad you had our date here.”
“I’m glad too.”
Anon curled his arm around her, which made her squeak all the more. His warmth was unmatched, and it made her heart calm just by being in his arms. All she needed was—
“Hey, babe?”
“Hmm?”
“I love you.”
High Winds’ eyes widened.
“What?”
“I love you.”
His goofy eyes made her cheeks burn. “Are you sure?”
He nodded and—why did he kiss her on the cheek?! “Yep, and that blush of yours tells me all I needed to know.”
“Anon!”
He resisted the urge to laugh when she shouted his name. It was obvious, she was not happy that he jumped ahead of her like that, but what was he supposed to do? It felt right saying it, and even though it was their second date, he was already liking what he saw, so…
Maybe it was too soon, maybe it wasn’t. He just knew what felt right in his heart. So he had to act on it, even if it screwed up his entire relationship with her and—
His eyes widened when she kissed him on the lips.
She stifled a gasp as she wrapped her forehooves around his neck. His eyes were wide as can be, shocked at what he was seeing and what he was feeling. She was kissing him! It felt like he was hovering in the sky with her. In reality, it was just the two of them laying on the blanket as they cuddled close, lips locked, and the world around them going on as it did before, but he really wanted to imagine them embracing in the sky. Maybe he was a bit too infatuated with the idea of flying with someone who cared about him. Whatever it was, his nerves were now shot, even more so than when High Winds had coincidentally flown over him.
And he couldn’t be happier.
She broke the kiss first, choosing to slowly open her eyes and smile happily, even though her ear was trying to find a frequency again. “I love you too.”
And those words were like music to his ears. Anon didn’t know what to do with himself. He had finally someone he could be close with, someone who loved him, who missed him, and maybe could grow with. It was only their second date, so they still had many more to go on.
Speaking of…
“So, who has the next date?”
High Winds’ wings shot out and stood at attention, while a stern glare emblazoned itself on her face. “It’s my turn, Anon.”
Anon laughed. “Okay, okay! Don’t get too pushy.”
“I am not pushy.”
Anon laughed at that. He also laughed at her attempt to be menacing, if a shoulder-tap with a wing was an example of that. Her pout was adorable, what with her crossed forehooves and her gaze roaming elsewhere. He could only think of one thing as she pursed her lips in despair:
He should start throwing caution to the wind more often.
Author's Note
Couple things: first off, Butterscotch is open for commissions! So if you want art, snag a spot before he's not open! Artist link to Ko-Fi: link.
As for the story, I hope you all enjoyed this one. Took a couple drafts (throwing away thousands upon thousands of words) to get this one right. Shoutout to Lynser's Discord server for all having the same joined shock as I had when rediscovering that not all guards are clones and then finding out one of them is literally green. Looked around for canon names for them, and only found Spearhead until recently where the green stallion's name was actually Legion Stalk. Didn't like the name so I renamed him to fit the story for comedic effect.
As for the remainder of December, I have two more fics coming out, including one for Jinglemas. Also a couple updates planned but we'll see which ones come out first. See you all next time! 
Songs for this story:
- FLOYA - Wonders (Chapter Title Reference)
- The Home Team - Loud
- Yves Tumor - Meteora Blues
