Learning to Soar

As Rainbow Dash’s consciousness gradually returned, she felt achy all around. Even though a thick fog still clouded her thoughts, all she could register was pain. Fiery, stinging, pain. A crude wince appeared on her features as her forehoof indistinctively brushed against her stomach—the main source of her problem. Although a whole lot of pain was heaped on her, she didn’t feel as uncomfortable as she would have figured. No familiar gusts of wind breezing through the air, no soft clouds beneath her, and—was that a blanket over her? What in the hay?

She clumsily rolled out of bed in a flash. A grimace graced her face as pain shot up her sides the moment her hooves touched the wooden surface of the floorboards. She wearily glanced back at the previously tidy bed. It seemed to be welcoming her back, radiating the warmth and softness that she was currently lacking. The tangled up green blanket lay on the ground nearby, tossed by her negligence. She scrutinized it and curiously considered the possibility of picking it up, getting back to sleep, and pretending that scene never happened.

A second passed before she relented and jumped on the empty bed. The bandage wrapped around her midsection pulsed as she strained to lug the blanket onto the bed. Turns out it was more difficult than expected. The blanket felt as if it was getting heavier and heavier with every heave and ho. After a few minutes of pulling and straining, she managed to settle back into her prior position. Relaxation washed over her immediately.

From her spot on the bed, Rainbow gazed inquiringly at the picture frames hanging on the far side of the wall. All of them, filled with a myriad of ponies. Even Rainbow herself didn’t think she could possibly count the sheer number of them.

In a most of the photos, ponies smiled and laughed happily, as if just being with each other deigned them the happiest they could ever be. Even a few of them drenched in mud radiated happiness, their lips drawn out into a huge grin. Once, she herself thought that very same way. She absentmindedly scoffed. Look where that upbeat thinking got her.  Funny how being orphanized left her mind to conjure up pessimistic thoughts, in contrast to the shallow inklings of an optimistic younger foal.

Really, she presumed herself a realist, negativity aside.Though she could never admit how often her thoughts drifted to dying somewhere on an empty cloud, letting herself being drowned in the cynical depths of her mind. What category did she fall in anyway? Realimism?

These ponies didn’t look rich, or even complex in any manner. None of them exuded royalty in any way, but those ponies appeared contented nonetheless. They appeared more so happier than she herself could ever be.

That, Rainbow concluded, meant the owner of that room was either a psychotic serial killer looking at the many ponies she could slaughter... or, they were pictures of friends and family. Rainbow shrugged dismissively. It was probably more of the former anyway.

One picture at the very end of the row caught her eye. It looked the most worn, as if it was taken off and positioned back on the wall constantly. It also had the least amount of earth dusted on its edges than the rest of the frames. Rainbow rubbed her chin. Why? Was it precious? She had the urge to get up to have a closer look at it.

Rainbow started to get up until she suddenly bent in a heap of hurt, the pain in her abdomen increasing by tenfold. She clutched the bandaged midsection painstakingly and gritted her teeth. In an attempt to distract herself, Rainbow placed her attention back on the picture hanging on the wall. Was there was something behind the frame itself? Hmm. What if—“Augh!” Rainbow couldn’t resist letting out a soft howl and doubled over as the pain reached its peak. She felt tears prickle at the edges of her vision and forced them back. Feeling nauseated, blood seemed to gather at the back of her throat before Rainbow swallowed. The taste revolted her, bile burning in the pit of her stomach. If that was how vamponies ate daily, then may Celestia sooner rain lightning bolts on her than Rainbow ever turning into a bloodsucker like that. She shuddered when the pain abruptly subsided. Whew, she managed to not spit blood all over the bed sheets. Awesome. A brittle smile tugged at her lips.

 Breathing faintly, Rainbow delicately craned her neck toward the window behind her. No use wondering what the picture frame mystery was if it was currently unsolvable.

Dusk was beginning to appear, and her view of the outside world was filled with endless amounts of exquisite apple trees. It was enough to make her impressed, looking bewilderedly at just the quantity of that one fruit. Thinking back to the picture frames on the wall, it made her wonder if there were the same amount of apples as her caretaker had company.

All around were apples, apples, and more apples. Juicy, succulent, luscious, mouthwatering apples.... Great, now I’m hungry. Rainbow haughtily reprimanded herself for thinking of food. As if in response, her stomach growled. She grunted. Even her stomach was a smartass.

Although the apple groves had gained most of her attention, it wasn’t the only thing she saw from the window. In the far left of the orchard, she could see a fence separating the orchards from the freshly plowed fields. The mounds of soil spread across the field sparkled in the afternoon sun. Rainbow wasn’t used to seeing those brown specks her parents called “dirt,” as she primarily lived in Cloudsdale, but she knew when to recognize it. There were a few potted plants around Fluttershy’s home, in addition to seeing this “dirt” during the times she visited Ponyville with her parents. That was about all she knew in relation to the matter, though. She silently hoofed the window with a deep scowl. Memories of the past had a way of getting her schmaltzy side out, and she was determined to push any of that useless sentimentality out—even if it required force.

The glower faded as Rainbow Dash eyed an orange-coated young filly her age speaking to an older colt out in the fields. His coat, a lush crimson color, was outshined by the younger filly’s luxuriant brilliant orange coat, despite being partially covered in dirt. Her pale golden mane, which was tied up in a quick pony tail, shined vibrantly in the setting sun’s rays. In said pony’s eyes, Rainbow observed a spark of worry and concern, complete with the upsetting frown of a pony in distress. Rainbow Dash raised an eyebrow at this.

She watched the two carefully, her muscles tensing up involuntarily as continued to see the orange pony’s array of expressions. The red colt didn’t say much, letting the filly do most of the talking. Sometimes he would speak up and invoke a more lighthearted conversation, but it never seemed to last. The orange pony obviously appeared very agonized about something—or somepony that the topic couldn’t be dropped easily.

 “What is it?” Rainbow murmured to herself as she lifted her hoof from the window.

                                                          ..........................................

 “...I jus’ can’t help worryin’, Big Mac.” Applejack clutched the white fence post in her hooves. “Maybe we should check to see how she’s doin’. Maybe she’s in even more pain than we last saw her.”  She frantically gestured to the farmhouse with her hoof. “Maybe she’s chokin’ on her own blood right now! Maybe she’s already gone to the other side! Maybe—“

“AJ, relax.” Big Mac placed a reassuring hoof on her shoulder.  This sparked a tinge of sadness in him that scratched the surface of the gruesome past they both experienced long—or maybe not so long—ago. He wasn’t sure how long ago that tragedy occurred, but it had caused an irreparable damage to their hearts. It would have broken their spirits permanently too, beyond any sort of repair, had Granny Smith not been there to patch things up.

He sighed inwardly. The last time a pony on their farm was hurt ended in death. And that hurt pony wasn’t just some stranger—it was their father. He was a kind, stalwart, robust stallion, his morals high and his honesty challenged even the most truthful of ponies. The way he’d died just wasn’t right—no, it was more than ‘not right,’ it was plain unfair. His mother’s death wasn’t any better, she being ripped from the jaws of life like a ragdoll. It was a gruesome sight indeed. A shadow of a haunted expression passed through Big McIntosh’s features before settling on a slightly content expression. “Maybe she’d appreciate her caretaker not bein’ so gloomy. Now where’s that suave seller I used to know?”

She sighed and vaguely pawed circles in the ground beneath her. “I guess you’re right.”

“There ya go.” He shot her a sympathetic smile before proceeding to draw a big triangle over her circles, gently pushing aside her forehooves. This elicited a “hey!” followed by a laugh from his sister. Big McIntosh’s smile turned into a smirk.“How ‘bout makin’ apple pie for our guest instead ‘a frettin’?”

Taking this as a queue, Applejack leapt on his back, shouting, “On ho, horse!”

Because he was done with all of his chores for the day and everything was (hopefully) put away, Big Mac decided to do the most brotherly thing he could think of at the moment. He valiantly stood on his hind legs, whinnied, and nobly galloped toward the farmhouse. Applejack had to hug the colt’s neck for dear life as this happened, but the she managed to grin in excitement rather than terror. She gripped an imaginary Stetson hat on her head. “Yeehaw!”

The ride was less than smooth to Applejack. Clop, clop, clop, went her big brother’s hooves on the dirt as he raced along the path. It almost felt like a rhythmic melody, forever repeating over and over. The wind flew past their manes and the setting sun dramatically shined behind them. Applejack could practically imagine the picturesque scene they were making.

Big Mac skidded to a halt as he reached the farmhouse. He nonchalantly pushed through the front door...and suddenly met eyes with Granny Smith herself. Applejack swallowed thickly as the old mare’s eyes narrowed a fraction at the mud speckling her grandchildren’s coats. Baby Apple Bloom innocently watched this scene from Granny Smith’s lap in blissful ignorance, not noticing the displeasure flashing in her current caretaker’s eyes. A faint bead of sweat rolled down Big McIntosh’s forehead. They were definitely treading on dangerous grounds.

Before anypony could argue, the oldest sibling hastily backed up against the entrance and used it to exit. As soon as they were met with the cool and clear winds of the outside world, Applejack shot off of Big Mac’s broad back and bounded for the water hose at the farmhouse’s rear. Her brother trailed behind with a panicked expression that probably reflected her own.

They turned sharply and reached their destination. A drippy hose hung on the edge of the roof like a snake, winding around a conveniently placed hook. There really wasn’t anything else around that part of their home other than a broken down radiator and a dirty towel. The ground beneath the siblings felt like mush, though that was to be expected. The last time they’d forgotten to wash up before heading inside their humble home was, well, a long time ago. The tongue-lashing they had received then wasn’t something that could be forgotten easily and the tongue-lashing they would most likely get as soon as they returned wouldn’t likely be forgotten easily either.

A quick turn of the knob primed the water to gush out through the nozzle clutched in Applejack’s hooves. She was only able to slightly wet her mane before it slipped from her grasp and landed onto the dirt below. The farmpony was only able to clumsily pick at the hose in a bad attempt to grab it. Growling, she dove on the ground and attempted a few more times—failing each time.

Next to her, Big Mac’s terror was replaced by a humorous demeanor, watching his little sister heatedly thrashing about in the mud. Was she trying to get dirtier or get cleaner?

        When he said this out loud, an irritated Applejack paused to face him. The smile drained from Big Mac’s face at the seriousness in her glare. If eyes could kill, he was pretty sure he would have long been dead. He nervously stepped backwards, his hooves squishing the mud beneath him wetly.

On a normal day, his little sister would have shrugged off his teasing and laughed along with him, but, he realized, that day wasn’t a normal one. Applejack had been filled to the brim with hurt and worry all day, and yet he’d been oblivious to the lingering feelings she had when Big Mac thought his consoling had finally worked. Consarn it. He wanted to slam his hoof on the ground, to grab hold of his precious younger sister and hug the stress out of her. To ease her broken mind of the deaths that seemed to haunt her in the present.

But the world didn’t work that way.

It was as if a massive dam broke somewhere in Applejack’s strong mind, all of her grief pouring out like a waterfall and turning into torrents of rage. A roar erupted from the little filly before she rocketed into her big brother and knocked the wind out of him. Abandoned, the hose began to whip around wildly, splashing the two siblings as they tumbled about in the mud. Big Mac was immediately met with a flurry of jabs that hurt him both physically and mentally. His heart pounded loudly in his ears as time slowed. Seeing his normally good-tempered sister like this made his heart sink. He made no attempt to parry or block any of the oncoming punches, simply relenting and letting her anger flow right at him.

Although it didn’t look that way, he understood her current emotions. It disconcerted him how easily he dismissed her hidden bile, but he knew that pent up anger and frustration had to eventually release if it got too much to handle. Besides, it was his fault for prodding at her open wound like a bumbling idiot. Yes, even he reacted that same way the first time he’d seen a severely injured pony. His eyes snapped shut as a fleeting memory managed to seep into his thoughts.

                                                          ..........................................

Big Mac looked uncertainly at the sharp spear in his hooves. “Pa, maybe this ain’t such a great idea.” His eyes shifted to the grown stallion in front. The stallion had his back to him, but Big Mac was sure his face was grim, lips set in a thin line to watch for any predators nearby. In the dark, Big Mac could only make out the rough outlines of the scraggly trees surrounding the pair. He gulped. Whatever skills his father had in being able to distinguish friend from foe in the shadowy darkness of the Everfree Forest would come in handy. His hooves ached something awful, continuously rapping tumultuously on the unsteady ground underneath him. They had been walking around for hours. “Them timberwolves...” And to make things worse, he had a sneaking suspicion something was following them.

Pa’s firm gaze flickered behind him. “Don’t worry, Mac. We’ll be all right.” As an afterthought, he reached for the spare lance slung over his side and whipped it out with his teeth. The hairs on his body bristled dangerously. “We’re only goin’ to a friend’s home to get medicine for...“ He trailed off as something rustled in the trees around them. His solid frame stiffened. “Get back!”

What came next wasn’t something Big Mac sought to remember. The timberwolves finally closed in, pouncing on their prey—his father—with their jaws wide open to tear the flesh and bones away, easily pinning his father down. Young and foolish he was at that time, there wasn’t anything he could do as he watched in horror while his father fought the battle himself. He couldn’t see much in the dim, shady light, and was only able to make out a few flashes of movement. There was the furious sound of kicking, punching, and stabbing as a few of the timberwolves yelped in pain. The wolves defeated by Pa exploded into mounds of regular old firewood.

The remaining wooden wolves wouldn’t back down, though.  Slowly, the beaten firewood began to meld back together, into a lone, bigger shape. As if pulled by magic, the lingering timberwolves came apart and meshed itself into the mold too. Big Mac stood in silence, watching the immense growth in terrified fascination. Big Mac’s spear, which had dropped from his clutches in the skirmish, hung about on the ground with no master with a desire to pick it back up.

Pa breathed heavily as he stumbled to his feet. “Mac,” he growled, “Let’s go.”

The faint green glow emitting from the moving timber enabled Big Mac to make out his surroundings. He saw the nearest trees splattered with the red tint that could have only come from his father. The ground was the same way—speckled with the crimson dampness that Big Mac had come to fear. Wood couldn’t bleed. The young stallion suddenly felt sick to his stomach. As much as he desired to hurl, he kept it back. The stomach-turning smell of rotten flesh overwhelmed his senses as he staggered forward to his father. “Pa...” Big Mac managed to choke out. He touched his father’s side softly. “You’re hurt.”

There was an unmistakable wince from Pa. When Big Mac removed his arm, he discovered a thick, warm liquid drenching his hoof. Blood. He didn’t even have time to cry out before a loud, drawn-out, piercing roar drowned out any sort of sound. “Let’s go,” Pa repeated with more force than before.

Then it dawned on him. They would never make it to their destination. The only options were to turn back or go forward. Either way, the medicine they sorely needed would remain undelivered to the pony who needed it the most—his mother. Pa seemed to be thinking the same thing. Next to him, his father’s breathing turned shallow. Blood dripping from his coat, his mind became set. Pa roared fiercely, matching the tone of the giant timberwolf they faced.

                                                          ..........................................

Big Mac let out a small yelp of shock as his eyes cracked open.

“Say sorry!” Applejack ferociously snarled. She was small, but her muscled arms made up for it as she gave his chest one last lashing. She appeared angry, but Big Mac could see the tears pouring down her face. It disguised well against the water raining down on them like a storm. Her anger was just a façade, he realized. The past hurt her as much as it hurt him, and he could never claim feeling more trodden than her, who actually tried to help rather than standing miserably and watching as a loved one fought for their lives.

Back pressed against the mud, Big Mac was silent. He couldn’t look into the eyes of the pony on top of him, the one that pinned him to the ground. He already knew what would be in them—sorrow no foal that young should have, the piercing green eyes that had the mark of a deep, intangible wound.

He gave a large sob and wrapped his arms around her, pulling Applejack closer. The tears began to spill. He felt wretched. “I’m sorry.”

Applejack stiffened in surprise at the sudden sincerity. She hadn’t expected him to apologize in that manner. He was lenient, to say the most. His pride drove him, just like her pride drove her. Apologizing never came easy for either of them.

A few seconds passed until she finally sighed. That anger wasn’t really pointed at him, despite him being the trigger. She hadn’t snapped before, but she’d already known what would happen if her fury was released. The filly had pounced on her own brother—something her better judgment would argue against. Then again, her mind felt cloudy and foggy in the spur of the moment. All Applejack was able to think about was how the newcomer could very well end up like her mother, and Big Mac had the nerve to joke around. One day she would apologize...though, at the moment, it felt better to just bury her face in her brother’s warm embrace and cry along with him.

Time passed them by, and the sky soon became as dark as the Everfree Forest. It wasn’t long before the two of them had to get to their feet and wipe any feeble tears away. After all, moping eternally wouldn’t get them anywhere. The pair silently hosed themselves off. Big Mac held the nozzle in his teeth, spraying any stray dirt that lingered on his sister’s coat. Applejack did the same when it was her turn to clean her brother’s coat. Smoothly taking the hose away from him, she showered his hide until it gleamed. A nice, subtle apology suited her better anyway.

As they trotted back, Applejack and Big Mac felt better than ever since the death of their parents. The pressure that frequently weighted them down felt as light as a feather, and if there was any bond between them then, it was most likely stronger than steel now.

Applejack cheerfully turned to the red pony next of her. “How ‘bout that pie?”

“Eeyup.” He flashed her a smile.

                                                          ..........................................

Carrying a lukewarm plate of apple pie, Applejack pleasantly drifted into her room—where her mysterious pony lay. Her rise in mood wasn’t surprising, given that fact that she’d immediately checked on the cyan pony when she finally reached the inside of the farmhouse to find that the dozing pony was okay.

Granny Smith had also conspicuously refrained from lecturing up a storm during the siblings’ arrival. With a quirked eyebrow, she noticed the change in their step, from a slightly held back happy disposition to an all-out blissful one. Granny Smith didn’t ask a single mumbling question about the how or why. The old mare was simply content with the outcome, though she had a sneaking suspicion concerning what happened out there, judging by the welt on Big McIntosh’s cheek. Applejack sure had a rather fine left hook, she mused to herself.

Rainbow Dash’s eyes fluttered open when she smelled the delicious pie. It wafted into her nostrils and surreptitiously woke her up. Her traitorous stomach growled eagerly.

The orange earth pony standing in the doorway laughed mirthfully. “Heh, I reckon you must be hungry.” She stepped closer to the bed. Rainbow’s face lit up as she recognized the pony from the fields. Thinking back to how troubled the orange pony looked before, there wasn’t a trace of that particular distress anywhere up close. The previous unhappiness that Rainbow had witnessed in the afternoon didn’t seem to be on the other pony’s features anymore, a lazy sort of smile gracing her face instead. “I’m Applejack. Nice to meet ya,” she drawled.

“I’m Rain—ah!” As she struggled to sit up, the strain on her abdomen caused the pain to reappear. Rainbow Dash bit back a curse while the second wave of pain rippled through her system. Applejack gently pushed her down to the position she was in before.

“Whoa there, partner.” Applejack set the sweet-smelling pie on the table next to her bedside and settled down on the floor. “No need to hurt yourself just to eat,” the farmpony said softly. She tenderly kept her expression even. “The pie ain’t even completely cool yet.”

Rainbow cleared her throat uncertainly. “I’m Rainbow Dash.”

“Rainbow Dash, huh?” Applejack’s gaze flashed to the other pony’s mane. “I’d say it fits.”

An empty silence ensued whereas Rainbow Dash pondered what to reply with. She, however, didn’t have to think any further when the orange filly opened her mouth to ask the most obvious question.  “How’d you end up here?”

She winced at the bluntness of it. Not that Applejack sounded harsh, but she was certainly one to get to the point pretty quickly. “I fell—from Cloudsdale, I mean.” Rainbow Dash heaved a sigh. “When I was taking my first flight test, I failed and accidentally threw myself down here.”

“You can’t fly?” Applejack asked, not even batting a doubtful eye at the allegation of “accidentally throwing” herself thousands of feet downwards. She sounded genuinely interested; unlike many of the bullies she’d faced back home.

Rainbow shook her head.

“No? Guess we’ll have to remedy that.” An earth pony teaching a pegasus how to fly? The very idea was preposterous, the two fillies knew, but it was a warming one nonetheless.  It was like suggesting drinking out of an acid bowl—no one in their right mind would put forward something like it.

And yet there was sincerity in Applejack’s eyes that insinuated the seriousness in her offer. She clearly wasn’t crazy and there wasn’t an evil gleam in her eyes, so why not?

After Rainbow accepted reliantly, the conversation took a turn into a more neutral one. How are you feeling? Is there anything else you need? How’s Cloudsdale? These questions were answered promptly, and then Applejack moved to any topics that could be spoken about. What are rainbows made of? What do you do when a thunderstorm appears? Is the sky any bluer up there than down here? Do you celebrate Nightmare Night too? What Rainbow Dash noticed, though, was that the subject never switched to her previous caretakers—her parents—and she was everlastingly grateful for that. It felt like a tender subject to breach. Unknowingly, the pegasus never realized how scorching hot the issue was for the farmpony sitting near her as well. Applejack wasn’t completely sure she’d be able to hide her grief at the mention of “parents” at the moment, after just recovering from a breakdown herself. She’d spoken warmly about her brother, her granny, and even her dog Winona, but there wasn’t a single remark about her own parents.

Rainbow Dash found herself enjoying every word shared between them, easily indulging herself into the undemanding lull of the chat, which was why she felt a pang of disappointment when the discussion abruptly reeled to a halt. Was she warming up to the new stranger? Yep.

To Rainbow, that wasn’t really a bad thing. Timid Fluttershy had hardly kept her attention for very long, speaking only when necessary and barely holding up her side of the conversation when spoken to.

“You should eat,” Applejack said, pointedly glancing at the pie on the table. “It ought to be cool by now.”

Helplessly stretching her arms for it, Rainbow continued to hold the farmpony’s gaze and casted a mockingly pathetic look at her. To her satisfaction, Applejack scowled. “Cute.” Then she cracked a conceding smile and stood up to leave the room.

Moments later, she reappeared with a spoon.

Rainbow’s eyes widened when she grasped her intent and narrowed her lips, crossing her arms defiantly. “You are not spoonfeeding me.”

“You asked for it.” Applejack smirked and took a dollop of pie, raising it high enough to be level with her patient’s jawline.

“No I didn’t!”

And so, that was the spark of a new friendship—or rivalry. Maybe both.