A massive crowd had formed at the exits by the time they arrived at the station. Ponies shoving, pushing, stepping on each other in their haste to leave the dingy train carts. All the passengers were getting off; that is, except for Trixie and Psycho.

“You really think that Luna visited you in your dream last night? I don’t mean to sound negative, but it was probably just an extremely vivid dream. Ponies have dreams about Luna and Celestia all the time, and it doesn’t mean anything,” Psycho said sceptically while digging around under Trixie’s bunk bed, searching for desperately through the cobwebs and dust.

“Of course Trixie is sure it was her. She… had a presence. It was a presence that was unmistakably that of a goddess. Powerful. Otherworldly. It’s not hard to believe that a god would find something interesting about me.”

Psycho snickered. “You’re so vain. You actually believe that Luna “the sister of Celestia, ruler of Equestria” would visit you personally. And you believe this because--”

“--because I’m different,” sang Trixie, jumping up on the bunk bed, causing poor Psycho to jump up and hit his head on the underside, the layer of dust clinging to the wooden frame falling all over him.

Trixie jumped back down as Psycho went into a sneezing fit. Remembering that they were in somewhat of a hurry, she started bugging him to finish quickly. She had already packed all of her things… that is to say, she had nothing to begin with and was held up only by her mousy companion--still looking for his lost possession.

“I already told you this. You left your watch at the station before we left. It’s gone. You told me it didn’t even work so I don’t even get why you’re getting so worked up over it.”

“But i-it was so expensive! I was hoping I could have it repaired it later,” whined Psycho, pulling himself off of the floor, a single peppermint clinging to his dusty mane. He sighed and flicked the candy off.

“I guess it’s possible for Luna to visit ponies’ dreams.” Psycho said, continuing the topic of Trixie’s dream. “She is the ruler of the night after all. I might have even heard somewhere that Luna creates dreams herself. But… nah, that can’t be true. After a thousand years of exile you’d think that somepony would have noticed the fact that they were all lacking a bit in the dream department.”

Fastening his satchel, Psycho and Trixie both started trotting toward the exit. The crowd was still there, but it was much smaller and much, much less violent than before. Psycho and Trixie parked themselves right in the back.

Psycho tried to start up a conversation. “That Luna sure is one crazy pony. She goes insane, gets imprisoned by her own sister for one thousand years--on the moon no less--and the first thing she does when gets back is try to do the whole shebang all over again. I heard that she got set straight by the ‘Guardians of Harmony,’ or something along those lines. Makes you wonder if she’s really alright with a permanent record like that, doesn’t it?”

“Everypony makes mistakes,” responded Trixie. “Except for Trixie, of course, and Luna certainly acted friendly enough.” Trixie leaned away in disgust as a pony coughed beside her. “Besides, Trixie likes to view her as a sort of symbol. No matter how badly somepony messes up, there is always a happy ending.”

Psycho looked at Trixie with raised eyebrows. What she had said didn’t match the character he had built of her. Was there some soft core to this self-reliant, egotistical mare?

“Maybe… ” continued Psycho. “...but she still could be a threat. I mean, that type of past doesn’t just wash off. What if something makes her snap again and she’s able to thwart everything thrown at her. We got lucky the first time. We might not be so lucky the next.”

“That’s the problem with ponies these days,” sneered Trixie. “No one’s a risk taker anymore.”

Soon enough they disembarked and entered the station. Some passengers sauntered out, making towards the exits without delay, while others ran towards the friends and family that had been waiting for them. To both the surprise of Psycho and Trixie, someone was waiting for them too, waving a cardboard sign in the air with their names on it in red crayon.

It was a unicorn: a colt. He had a light blue coat, although not as light as Trixie’s, and slightly darker blue mane that was combed into a swav cut, but that looked as if several lates nights had left it unkempt. Even as he stood there he gave large yawn big enough for a bird to make a nest.

His eyes were lemon and his cutie mark was a large crescent moon that encompassed a smaller one--a nebulous symbol compared to that of most ponies. Although it probably suggested an inherent mystical element to him, since the levitating anything, even something such as light as a piece of cardboard, was highly difficult for most unicorns.

When he saw the pair he lowered the cardboard sign. Trixie and Psycho shared a glance, then walked up to the unicorn, who gleamed a large, toothy smile.

“Hey folks. My name is Crescent Moon,” greeted the colt. His voice was deep and smooth, like molasses. He took Psycho’s hoof and gave it a firm but short shake, then did the same with Trixie. “I know you must be asking yourselves ‘Who the hay is this cool guy?’ Well, let me try and clear things up before you either of you start up. In plain terms. I’m your boss now.”

Psycho gasped and his eyes grew to the size of ostrich eggs. Shock kept him still for a few seconds, then he laughed nervously as if this was just really bad joke, and any moment now a camera crew would pop out and reveal the deception. Crescent, confused and even a little unnerved by Psycho’s behavior, waited quietly for a response.

“Sh-Shutter’s the one behind this, isn’t he?” asked Psycho, almost begging. “He looked like the s-s-sort of pony who’d like to pull a joke like this. Should've known.”

“Afraid not, my friend,” Crescent said, scratching his stubble nonchalantly. “I let Shutter go as soon as I took the reigns of this operation.”

Psycho gasped a second time, jaw falling to the ground.

Crescent put of hoof of Psycho’s shoulder to offer what little comfort he could, then he alluded more. “Pozniak mulled it over while you were out searching for a ‘escort wizard’, and decided... that he’d rather it be me taking charge of this extremely important expedition. Sorry, but I took the unhappy liberty of evaluating our current employees and--”

“But wait,” interrupted Trixie. “Does this mean that I’m out of the job?”

Both colts quickly responded. “No!”

They glanced at each other. Quickly, Crescent cleared his throat. “You’ve already signed the contract, and if we release you before it expires we could be sued, and we certainly don’t want that.”

Trixie wasn’t sure whether or not contracts worked that way, and even so, ‘... didn’t the others sign papers when they got the job?’

However, Trixie really wanted this job. Actually, she needed this job, and she wasn’t above looking past details that, when you think about it, really didn’t affect her in the slightest. For now, she was just relieved that this whole trip hadn’t been for nothing; a waste of time and effort. She didn’t know what she would’ve done if this all led to a dead end. With no money, she would’ve had no choice but stowaway on the next train ride, and then she’d have to find another job--which wasn’t as easy a feat as it seemed, not with her demeanor.

“There is no reason for us to be standing out here in the cold freezing our withers off,” said Crescent, quickly changing the direction of the conversation. “Let’s check into our hotel. It’s got nice, hot food, comfy beds, and friendly company. Don’t worry about money. I already paid for each of our boarding. There’s no need to dwell on our unhappiness in this depressing weather anymore. Psycho, we’ll continue our conversation later.”

Psycho didn’t seem all too happy, considering Crescent’s purpose here...but he followed him like a faithful dog, albeit with a downcast gaze; and Trixie, who was still expecting to get paid at some point for following these two strange men, went as well.

As soon as Trixie took a step out of the train station a strong chilling breeze blew against her, making her shiver fiercely. Snow was knee deep on both sides of the plowed road and a sign with the town name greeted any newcomers disembarking from the train, ‘Welcome to WyndValley’. The village was actually pretty large as far as ‘small’ towns go, if a bit more vertical than most places she’d seen. The buildings were wooden constructions--tall, cubical, and connected with long oak bridges. But as tall as the buildings were, none came close to the sheer size of the Crystal Mountains, which stood next to town, casting it’s humongous shadow over its roof tops.

A good number of caverns could be seen cut into the mountain’s cliff edge, where the other half of the village was. Ladders and lifts extended from the ground up, where laborers used rope pulleys to carry large crates up to be stored in the caves, which--Trixie just now realized-- were being used as storage.

In front of Trixie marched Psycho, his gazed still cast down at the ground as he followed silently behind this Crescent pony who was decidedly their leader now. Trixie pulled up next to Psycho, getting a much better view of his countenance. He turned his head away.

“Feeling cheated...?” questioned Trixie, frowning knowingly.

Psycho sighed deeply, turning his gaze up at Trixie “Yeah,” he replied. “It’s a raw deal...but I’m used to getting raw deals now. Everypony knows that I’m... spineless. I can’t stand up for myself.”

“Well then why don’t you?” demanded Trixie. “You’ve go to show everypony out there-- including your boss-- that Psycho won’t let himself be walked all over like a cheap rug.”

Psycho stared at her, eyes wide with fear. “I-I could never do that! Confrontation is something...i-it’s just something I can’t deal with!”

“Then quit. Show some self-respect!”

Psycho shook his viciously. “No, no, no, no, no, no! I’d have nothing to my name if I did that!”

Trixie harrumphed. “So you’ll do nothing? How complacent of you. I can’t help somepony who doesn’t want to be helped. But--” she glared a hole through Psycho’s face, “--the Great and Powerful Trixie would never let somepony take advantage of her, and you shouldn't either.”

She fell back, leaving Psycho alone again, somehow looking even gloomier, probably thanks to Trixie’s ‘pep talk’.

Loitering behind, Trixie considered her relationship with her whiskered companion. Having only known Psycho for a little less than two days now she had already begun to set up a pattern for the guy. Every time someone applied a little force to him he buckled like tinfoil. To be honest, she was quickly getting bored of him, since she only thought of him as cowardly and possibly incompetent. He certainly didn’t have much of a drives and Trixie wasn’t sure she’d prefer him more even if did. Knowing all this didn’t really help Trixie understand her situation better, but it did provide her with some perspective on why somepony wouldn’t trust him with an important project.

She passed a group of children laughing in the snow. Little ponies and goats, together, making snowballs and throwing them at each other--shrieking shrilly whenever a hit connected. Trixie watched them with interest, contemplating what their less than mature minds were thinking and where each would find themselves later in life.

Making their way downtown through the brick-laden streets with Psycho, and her new boss, Trixie saw a couple young goats wearing hard hats, an earth pony unloading a grand piano from a pick up wagon, young mares chatting to each other on building’s doorsteps, and an old billy sitting dejectedly on a street corner, his heavy eyes staring down at the pavement. There were a lot of goats, Trixie noticed. More goats than she’s ever seen; it perplexed her.

“Why’re there so many goats in the town?” asked Trixie “This is the first time I’ve seen so many gathered at once.

“They’re mountain goats,” said Crescent nonchalantly, as if he was pointing out that the grass grows or the sun shined. “They tend to live up here in the… ya know...mountains.”

“But there’s so many here. Why do they all want to live where it’s cold?”

“Probably the same reason unicorns tend to prefer the city life,” interjected Psycho. “Community is probably a big part of it.”

“You can ask one yourself,” said Crescent. “We’ve got one traveling with us. He’s been on site for many major archaeological digs and has published numerous books on the subject of ancient civilizations.” Crescent laughed. “He’s probably going to hate me for taking the fun out of introducing himself.”

The hotel didn’t look all that different from any of the other buildings. Maybe it was a little taller, had a few more windows, and a stone chimney sticking out of the roof--but otherwise it looked nearly indistinguishable from every other building on the block--tall, rectangular prisms.

When they stepped through the door a wave of warm air washed over Trixie. There wasn’t much inside the lobby, but it seemed homey enough. A stone hearth housed a crackling fire, and a pair of inviting couches faced the warm flames. One elderly lady with the cutest spectacles Trixie ever did see manned the check in counter, snoring loudly with her face squashed on the countertop.

“This much more of a Bed and Breakfast than a hotel,” pointed out Trixie. “But...Trixie supposes that this place is suitable enough for her needs.”

“I aim to please,” laughed Crescent.

Two figures sat close to the hearth, their silhouettes lit up by the fire. One was a massive beast, easily taking up an eighth of lobby room. The second figure, sitting lazily on a couch, looked barely larger than a child in comparison with the hulking mass.

“Hey guys, I’m back with the others!” hollered Crescent. The figures stood and turned. The bulky one turned out to be a large, muscular cult with silky blond hair. He looked friendly enough, Trixie thought, if rather foalish. He had a goofy smile on his face that raised comparisons to several species of monkeys she had researched while trying to find a guinea pig to practice her spells on.

The big cult waved. “Hi guys!” he said excitedly. “My name’s HeavyWeight.”

Still sitting down next to him was an orange pony who seemed like a mare, but it was a little hard for Trixie to tell when the pony was wearing a baseball cap and jacket that covered nearly all of her features. She could at least tell by the wings on the pony’s back that she was a pegasus. She just looked at Trixie and Psycho with disinterest then sat back down, puffing on something that looked like a white cigar, and blowing out a foul-smelling smog that drifted to the ceiling

“Pleased to make your acquaintance,” Trixie said while curtsying. “Both of you. I am Trixie, the Great and Powerful, purveyor of all skills, an adept of the arcane arts, and showfloor extraordinaire.”

“You’ve gathered a lot of nice titles for yourself...,” came a raspy voice. The clunking sound of hooves on wood made its way slowly down the creaky steps that descended from the upper floors, and when they reached the bottom the voice revealed itself to belong to a decrepit goat with a long, braided white beard. “... Me? I’ve got only the one, but after using it all my life I can say with certainty that it’s been more than enough.” He came up to Trixie and bowed deeply. “and the name I use is--”

“Starx,” finished Crescent. “Sorry old coot, they already know who you are. Told them on the way back.”

Starx glared at Crescent and humphed. “Old, am I? Well I’ve got news for you. I’m not that old. I can still travel; which is quite something for my age; and I’ve done more, seen more, and fought more in the last year than most have their entire lives. As for telling these two youngsters about me, I bet you just told them I was a history buff. You never really get into the nitty gritty details.”

“Well, I thought I’d spare them the boredom.”

“You’ve been there right with me on many excavations. If I’m boring then so are you.”

“Not true, ya’ old fossil. Everything I do is extremely interesting.”

“Bah!” Starx waved his hoof dismissively. “The school of studying ancient history was practically built on my findings. When I found the Neighing Stone in the far east-- laying in reeking, decaying tomb--it revolutionized how others saw the Tiger Lizards. Unintelligible documents, decoded. Reintroducing modern society to the ancestors they didn’t know they had! Now, if that sounds boring, then by Celestia, I must be drill.”

“What? A drill?” questioned Crescent. “What does that have to do with anything?”

Starx was quick to clarify. “Because it, you know… it bores.” When Crescent failed to respond with anything a raised eyebrow he continued. “A-a drill bores so when you’re calling someone boring it means you’re calling them--bah! I’m done playing word games with you!”

Even though he was old wise man with a million wrinkles he still acted like a child. He stormed back upstairs, stomping all the way, and the loud slamming of a wooden door carried down to the lobby where everyone stood silent; except for the mare with the ball cap who never got up or acknowledged what was going on around her. Whistling to himself, Crescent moon walked in front of the fireplace and turned to face the crew. He coughed loudly.

“So here’s the game plan,” announced Crescent. “The sooner we head out the better. Ideally, we’ll leave by tomorrow morning because the forecast states that in about two weeks there will be a monumental blizzard. So Trixie,” He pointed at her. “I need you to go out and get yourself some winter gear. Everypony else has already got theirs. Any questions?” The orange mare shot her hoof up.

“Yes? What is it, Motion Picture?” asked Crescent scrupulously.

With a final exhale, that blew wispy smoke from her mouth and nostrils, she stood up. She seemed to think for a moment, though not hard, as far as Trixie could tell; probably just trying to find a right way to phrase whatever was going through her head.

“Just a quick question.” Motion assured. “But, unless there are others, there only seems to be, like, six of us here--including that one guy with the beard. So Is that it? Are we all there is?”

“You want to know why there aren't more ponies in this team?” checked Crescent, making sure he heard her correctly. “Well, truth be told, this isn’t an excavation. We’re not going in with shovels or a large research team, and that’s because, so far, the princesses have shot down any project funding exploration beyond the Crystal Mountains.

“And since we’re lacking that oh-so-sweet college funding, we had no choice but to search for a third party that would provide us with the tools we need to go out there and search for anything that will get the Archeological School of Thought’s attention. Basically,we’re just going to try and find something that looks really neat, and if we do they’ll throw us a massive party.”

“I think I’ll skip that,” Trixie thought. She knew the score. A pony just had to look around to see where everyone stood. You couldn’t find a group more indifferent of each other. Crescent was here for fame, just like the old codger; and the others were here for the exact same reason she was: money.

Maybe it was cold of her to judge everyone without actually getting to know them, but how could she do differently when most her life was spent watching people walk right past her? Left behind by society. Ignored like a destitute on the street. Everypony could see her just fine, but they all end up walking away just the same, time-and-time again. Introductions were just a courtesy. It was better not to get attached.

“...and that’s all the information of any importance,” finished up Crescent, unaware that one team member wasn’t entirely ‘there,’ as Trixie had been lost in thought, wallowing in her own self-pity.

The doe manning the lobby desk noticed that the group was pretty much done with their meeting and switched on the radio. The melancholy voice of Jazzy Sweet fizzed to life through the speakers, singing her heart out to the few who still listened to F.M. radio.

“I’ve never been lonelier…than when I’m with you…Because you’re somewhere else… when you’re standing here too…”

The melody was like a lullaby, carrying Trixie into a waking dream where stories were the truth; and what was true was synthesized.

“Drowning... the water is cold…Sinking…need someone to hold…”

The flickering hearth fire bounced shadows around the room, making the inhabitants seem more like phantoms, and the smoke Motion breathed out in torrents swam through the air, creating an illusion of light, like the sun filtered through oceanic waves.

It was difficult to breath.

“Trixie...?”

Her train of thoughts derailed onto the memory mother. Was there a time she didn’t hate her? She couldn’t remember.

“Trixie?!”

“What?!” she snapped hotly, venom in her tone. “What is it! Trixie is think-” She stopped herself. In front of her was Psycho, looking at her with something akin to fear in. It pulled her back to reality.

She didn’t know what had gotten into herself, though she knew better than others that her emotions were bipolar in nature this wasn’t some random event; she caught herself thinking about the past, an inadvisable course of action when there was nothing to see other than a downward spiral. It was brought on by a melancholy song; a distant, repressed memory of home; almost nostalgic.

“Sorry about that,” apologized Trixie, shaking herself loose from the tension she had built without realizing it. “What was it that you wanted to say to me?”

Psycho was taken aback by Trixie sudden outburst, having jumped back when she spat at him. “Oh, wh-wh-what I wanted to say was...w-we could go shop for a jacket now. Or you could go ‘freshen up’ first, i-if you’d like. I’ll just wait here.”

“Hm…” Trixie rubbed her chin pensively. “...I think I’ll take a quick bath first and then I’ll go shopping... alone.” She stressed that word long and hard. “I’m tired of having ponies guide me around and telling me needless trivia. Trixie is a grown mare, and can find all of her gear by herself, thank you very much. Now, if you’ll excuse me.”

Psycho stood mutely, watching Trixie leave as he watched, wearing a black expression. The morning had delivered nothing but bad news for the pony, and Trixie’s rejection of his company was only going to worsen his demeanor. He felt lonely. He felt...useless. Trixie was the closest he had to a friend at the moment--or would have for quite a while, seeing as everyone he knew was fired unceremoniously--and now…

“She probably just needs some private time...” Psycho muttered to himself. He turned around, away from Trixie; away from the crew, and left through the Hotel Entrance. The fumes from Motion Picture were wreaking havoc on his throat. He coughed more than once from breathing in the noxious smoke, and nothing sounded better right now than some fresh air.

Shortly after Trixie got her hotel room key from the receptionist she made her way to the third floor, looking forward to finally seeing her accommodations. The door opened with an extensive creak, revealing the absurdly small dominion that was hers for the night.

“Really? This is it?” asked a disbelieving Trixie. There was hardly anything in there. Only the bare necessities were present in the cottage-like lodging. There was a bed, thankfully; and a dresser by its side, but nothing else--not even a carpeted floor. What little there was was cramped together to barely allow any leg space. She noticed a door though--easy to miss--and opened it, and breathed a sigh of relief. “At least there’s a bathroom. Now I can finally make myself decent.”

Trixie prepared herself a bath right then and there. The water wasn’t warm, but compared to the freezing air outside that was frosting over the hotel windows, it was practically a sauna. She relaxed in the tub, her silver hair spreading out like a silk blossom in spring, trying her best to relax in the disgustingly cramped room. Her thoughts drifted, but rather than dwell on her misfortunes she started thinking about her future, where everything was bright and full of potential. Soon, she’d be a big name. Her smug, azule face plastered on magazines and billboards. She imagined herself, lording it up in a large mansion; not a cramped hotel room, or a caravan, but an actual house where the fridge was always stocked and she could sit comfortably inside while the cold winters passed. All she needed was to get back on her hooves.

“Does Trixie look better in purple, or beige?” Trixie asked while holding up two fur-hooded jackets with her glowing unicorn magic. A droopy eyed goat slumped against a wooden support, clearly annoyed with his customer who just couldn’t make her mind up. If she took much longer, he decided, he just might have to kick her out.

“They both look fine,” yawned the goat. “Really, it doesn’t matter. The only things that does matter is whether or not they’ll keep you warm. Otherwise, who cares?”

“I care!” she exclaimed. “I have to look the best I can whatever the occasion! If I didn’t ponies wouldn’t know how great I am.” She glared at the shop keep who continued to stare back at her, getting slowly angrier with the blue mare by the second. This wasn’t some pricy fashion store. It was a general store where ponies could get reasonably-priced groceries and cheaply made clothes. He shouldn’t have to deal with customers like this. Suddenly he stood upright, ready to lift Trixie up and throw her out on her poncy rump. But before he did a bell rang out through the store, indicating that someone had just come in.

“There you are. I need you for a moment.”

In came Motion Picture, hovering lazily above the dusty floorboards as she floated right up to the two increasingly hostile equestrians. She noticed the aggressive stance they were both in and scratched her head in confusion.

“Did I just walk in on something?”

“Is she your friend?” the goat pointed accusingly at Trixie. “She’s been here for an hour! Make her choose already; or take her and leave! Frankly, I’m tired as hell, and I’m not going to take any more of this!”

“If that’s what you want, then fine.”Trixie spat. “Everything you sell is junk anyway.” She threw the clothes to floor in a fit and stomped her way past candy stand and the selection of discount romance novels, exiting through the store entrance where the wind promptly slammed the double-doors shut again. The store employee picked up the jackets with his maws and grumbled to himself as he put them back on the racks.

“Damn city folk. Thinkin’ everywhere need to be fivestar…”

Motion tapped the goat on the shoulder, which seemed to cease his grumbling at least.

“Hola, cowpoke. Can I see that purple jacket you got there?”

Within a minute Motion had the newly purchased hoody inside her saddlebag and was out looking for Trixie. Thanks to her wings it didn’t take long to spot Trixie from the sky. Motion sometimes wondered how others managed to find anything without being a pegasus like her. Though she did hear that some unicorns can conjure up wings with a spell. Still, it was easier to not have to deal with spell mumbo jumbo.

She found Trixie trudging through the snow slosh of an empty street, completely unaware of Motion’s presence as she glided silently above her. With a quick flex of her muscles Motion’s wings carried her next to her. However, she stopped shortly from a few feet from Trixie when she got struck suddenly by a flash of inspiration. Trixie still looked angry about before, but from Motion’s perspective she actually seemed to look determined about something; with the way Trixie always held her head up proudly despite circumstance and the confidence she tended to carry herself with. ‘It would look perfect for a picture.’

Silent as possible, she shuffled through her bag and took out her digital camera. She lined the frame up to Trixie’s grimacing face and took a quick snapshot. The flash startled Trixie and she turned quickly to see where the light came from, causing her trip over a loose brick sticking out of the road.

“Oops, sorry” said Motion, as Trixie face planted into the dirty slosh. The situation was classic slapstick, but Motion didn’t think Trixie was likely to see the comical side of things.. Sure enough, when Trixie pushed herself back up, covered in stinging snow and flecks of dirt, she was scarlet in the face and baring her teeth like a mad dog.

“Hey!” yelled Trixie. “Who push me?!” Then she turned and saw Motion.

“You!”

Motion blinked, perplexed. Trixie thought that she pushed her? Where did she get that idea?

“Uh, no...I didn’t.”

“Yes you did. Do you see anyone else around? No! So it must have been you!”

Motion breathed deeply. ‘What a presumptuous unicorn,’ she thought, exhaling cooly. When she looked back at Trixie she made sure to seem non-confrontational by remaining calm and, remembering the number one rule when dealing with ponies with chips on their shoulders, ‘sound apologetic’.

“I’m sorry,” apologized Motion. “I didn’t mean to trip you up. I was just taking a picture, okay?” She held up her camera as evidence.

A bit of Trixie’s face softened after Motion Picture finished talking. Though she still felt compelled to make the pegasus pay in some way, she felt… flattered, that someone would want to take a picture of her.

“Besides,” continued Motion, pulling out the purple jacket she bought for Trixie. “Would someone who meant you harm have bought you a nice looking outfit?”

It was Trixie’s turn to look confused. Motion seemed to be offering her the jacket she needed, but was it a some trick Motion was playing? Trixie eyed the coat suspiciously. For all she knew, it might be laced with itching powder, or lice, or possibly worse.

She scanned the jacket with a minor spell she learned in grade school that enabled her to effectively see any traps as if under a blacklight. After finding nothing wrong with it she hesitantly decided she’d take the offered apparel. Trixie reached out with her magic and grabbed the jacket, holding it out as though she didn’t know what to do with it.

“Why did you get this for me?” asked Trixie. “You don’t even know me, so, it’s not like we’re friends.”

“I didn’t get it because I like you,” clarified Motion. “I got it because it was a ‘nice’ thing to do. It’s not like I needed a reason to be nice--though I know a lot of ponies would disagree with me on that.”

“But, uh… well… I,uh...”

Trixie struggled for something to say.

‘Is she trying to say thank-you?’ wondered Motion

“I-it’s not like… it’s not like I asked for this,” finished Trixie. “I don’t need charity from anypony.” The words came out before she knew what she was saying, but it came out smooth compared to the word she was trying to form, words which made a lump form in her throat just to think of them.

Motion continued to breath deeply. The unicorn was such a bother to be with. Motion wondered how she was going to survive an entire trip with this stuck up horse when her only reaction to everything was to yell at it until it went away. She was no psychologist, but Motion had a gut feeling that Trixie had some deep-rooted insecurity--but confronting Trixie about it would just lead to more arguments, and that was something Motion greatly wanted to avoid. Still, it’s not like she had to take this heat lying down.

“If you don’t want it just give it back.”

“Wh-what?” asked Trixie.

She reached out to take the jacket but Trixie quickly pulled the clothing out of reach, a nervous expression on her face.

Motion laughed. “So you do want it? Well then why don’t you just say so?”

Trixie stood there, staring at the floor with glum eyes, refusing to meet Motion’s gaze. In truth, Trixie could never afford the gear she needed. She originally intended to steal the jacket, just like she’s been doing for everything else she’s needed for the past month--but when the store manager showed up she had to pretend to be an indecisive shopper. But still, she’d be damned if she was going to tell anyone about her financial position. She had too much pride for that; and though thievery was still shameful, it was at least the kind where no one had to know about it, and nopony would give her any artificial pity. But now her pride was getting in the way of something that was so simple. All she had to do was play nice for once. How hard could it be?

Well, apparently really hard“No, I do want it.Th-thanks,” Trixie gritted through her teeth. A blood vessel busted in her left eye, terrifying Motion, who was now backpedaling away from the pony before her.

Motion was freaking out internally. The heck was going on? Was ‘thanks’ some sort of trigger word that caused the blue unicorn to explode? Was Trixie turning into a rage beast?!

“Jeez...” Motion raised her forelegs defensively. “...calm down. You’re making this a lot more weird than it is.”

“This isn’t weird. Trixie’s just thanking you is all.” Trixie smiled a freakish frankenstein smile, oblivious to her frightening appearance. She walked towards the pegasus, confounded as to why Motion was backing away from her. Then Trixie realized, her forced smile probably didn’t look warm or welcoming when she has had so little practice in grins without her usual smugness in them. So she kept trying, contorting her face into other monstrosities that did little to calm down the pegasus.

“Don’t hurt me,” whimpered Motion, holding up her camera like a shield. “I just wanted to see if you’d do shots with me.”

“ You mean… a photo shoot?” asked Trixie.

“Uhm… no?” replied Motion timidly. “It’s just--we’re the only mares in our group, so I thought, ‘Hey, we should get to know each other.’ I don’t really know how to make friends with total strangers, but my brother told me that a good way to make friends is by buying them a couple rounds. But I never intended for things to get so tense. Jeez…”

The fake smile Trixie was wearing fell from her face. But she didn’t look mad anymore. She had no fire in her eyes, or snarky grin, or a pompous pose. Instead, she was expressionless, eyes completely devoid of emotion.

“Trixie doesn’t want to get to know you,” said Trixie, voice as empty her face. “Trixie doesn’t want to know any of you.” She turned and began to trot away, but only took a few hoof-steps before stopping. “But really, thanks…” she said lastly, continuing to walk away, the sound of crunching snow getting quieter as she vanished behind a building.

Motion watched her leave, flummoxed greatly by the entire encounter. It was astounding to her that there were was a pony so emotionally unstable that a simple conversation was like trying to navigate a minefield. How do you get on the good side of someone like that?

Crunching announced the approach of a third pony.

Psycho came up and and stood next to Motion, a bemused smile on his whiskered lips and plastic grocery bag in his teeth. It was immediately apparent to her that Psycho must’ve seen her and Trixie arguing by the way he was looking at her.

“Ah guesh sheesh noth muff uf ah risk caker,” said Psycho, muffled by plastic.

Motion pulled a roll them hemp she bought at the corner store along with her coat-- compliments of the owner-- out of her pack, lazily sticking it in her mouth and lighting it with a nearby lantern. As she puffed on green hemp her brain began to haze and the air grew less cold. The embers fascinated the stoned pegasus and she stared at it, lost in deep thought.

“No, she’s not,” reiterated Motion. “She’s not a risk taker at all.”

Two young passed them on the street, on pulling the other on a sleigh down the slope. They were the only people on this solemn street besides Motion and Psycho themselves, and unlike the latter they seemed to be having a blast. Motion watched them silently as they played, climbing the hill to slide down over and over again. She took her camera out with one hand and expertly snapped a photo.

“That’s gonna look real good on my fridge,” smiled Motion.

***

Dear Son,

I heard what happened in the Crystal Kingdom. I’m so proud of you. You showed tremendous courage in the face of adversity, and when the princess needed you the most you stayed by her side--at least up to the point where you threw her off the balcony. Normally, I’d scold you for being so flippantly dangerous, but actually I’m surprised that you were strong enough to lift her. Besides, Cadence has probably chastised you enough as it is-- there’s no need for me stack even more heat on you.

Though, I heard that it was actually a collaborative effort between you and your sister. Sure, all her friends probably had something to do with it, but I’m sure it was all mostly my own, gifted children. The next time that you see Twilight tell her that her dad loves her very much. That goes for you too. I know you’re a tough soldier now, but try and stay out of danger! And if you really want to keep Princess Cadence then try and avoid throwing her off of balconies, alright?

Anyway, I wanted to tell you that I’m actually not that far from where you stationed. I was going to come see you, but a lot of important business just came up and I missed the opportunity. Too bad. I wanted to see what an entire city made of crystals looked like. I imagine the sunburns get pretty bad with all that glare. I’ll be gone for at least a week, but I’ll think about you and Twilight constantly while I’m away.

Love,
Night Light

P.S. Nearly forgot to mention. Remember that one unicorn that destroyed Twilight’s town? She’s here with me now. She doesn’t know who I am, or who my children are. I don’t think it’s a good idea to tell her. Don’t tell Twilight where she is either. If I know my daughter, she’ll probably come try and confront her, and that would be very bad.

Author's Note

Wow! This sure took forever to to get done! I've learned a great deal in the making of this chapter, like, no one wants to be an editor. Seriously. I tried to find someone to edit on fimfiction's own group "looking for editors", but the amount of authors greatly outweighed the number of people willing to actually read over some stranger's work. I can't really recommend it since you'd be more likely to get killed by a cow than to find an editor.

Now let me talk about things I changed in chapter 3. I stopped having Trixie talk in third person. Why? Because it was getting on my nerves, and I can only assume that the audience would also find it grating.

Edit: I don't know what's going one, but every time I tried to import from google docs everything became center aligned. I had to manually change everything back to normal. Hey, if anyone knows how to manually right align please tell me.