The blonde pegasus lay prone on the cloud, her hooves dangling off the front. Her wings were sore from a hard day’s flying, and she needed a bit of relaxation before she returned home for the night.
The sun had set just after she left the Cloudsdale Weather Factory, and it had been a bit disconcerting, since she rarely flew at night any more. Looking at the panorama around her, she wondered why she had ever stopped.
Luna’s moon was well above the horizon, slightly obscured by a thin veil of very high clouds—higher than any pegasus, even Rainbow Dash, could ever hope to reach or manipulate. A faint rainbow could be seen in that cloud cover, and she struggled to remember what it was called. Was it a moonbow, or was that too obvious? It had been so many years since she had taken her weather training classes, and she hardly ever worked weather patrol. Whatever it was called, it was beautiful.
She was slightly saddened that so few stars were visible. As she craned her neck upwards, she could see some of the brighter stars, but most of them were shrouded.
Sighing slightly, she flexed her wings experimentally. They were still pretty stiff. She decided that the cool dampness of the cloud would help relax her wings more quickly, so she carefully rolled over and stretched out her wings, gently beating them to knock down the high spots of cloudstuff.
As she did, a memory came back of flight camp, where she and a half-dozen other fillies had gotten in a cloud fight when the instructors were away. Fluttershy had hidden under a table early on, while Rainbow Dash had aggressively pursued everyone and pummeled them mercilessly with cloudballs. Flitter and Cloudchaser, who acted above the action, nevertheless cheered on Thunderlane as he and Rainbow made their final confrontation across a dining hall table which, nopony had noticed, was slowly sinking, its support gone. They were facing each other down, like two stallions fighting for dominance, when one of the camp councilors had come in, seen the destruction, and made them spend the rest of the night smoothing the cloud back down before they could have supper. She sighed. Those were simpler times.
Fully relaxed, she stretched her neck over the edge of the cloud and looked at the world below. It looked funny for it to be above and the sky to be below, she decided. She could see the lights of Canterlot off in the distance, and, if she bent her neck a little farther, she could see Ponyville. There were lights on in most of the houses, and a few streetlights that Mayor Mare had had installed around the marketplace and the park, but most ponies stayed inside at night.
She could see the Apple’s farm, and the faint light of the moon made the rows of apple trees look soft and inviting. She wondered if it was really as comfortable to sleep on branches as Dash made it look. She had tried, once, and promptly fallen out of the tree just as she was drifting off to sleep, and had never repeated the experiment. It was tricky to get past the branches and leaves, too.
It was peaceful on her cloud. She wondered what it would be like to just keep lying on it, drifting wherever the winds took her. She could put a little sign on her cloud that said “Do Not Disturb,” and just let it drift. She could probably tour all over Equestria. She knew that there were some wandering pegasi who did that with their cloud homes—although they would often push them to whatever destination they had in mind, rather than rely on the sometimes fickle winds. But she thought it seemed simpler to just be one with the cloud.
“I suppose I would have to pack my saddlebags full of food,” she muttered out loud. “What would I tell my friends and family? ‘I am drifting with the wind. I don’t know when I will return.’” She giggled at the thought, and imagined herself as a brave, old-time adventurer, going off to explore who knew what.
She wondered if the Princesses had ever just lain on clouds and drifted over Equestria. She decided that they probably had.
She flexed her wings again, and decided that the soreness had finally worked out of them. Tightening them against her side, she rolled back to her stomach, then got her feet under herself and stood up.
She tugged the strap on her saddlebags, just to make sure that they were still snug, then faced over the edge of the cloud, looking at the patchwork of fields and forests below her. She could follow an unnaturally straight line that she knew was the rail line to Appleoosa, as well as the meandering routes of the streams that cut across the landscape. She knew, better than many other pegasi, the names of all the streams, rivers and roads that made up Equestria, knew the farms and villages and freeholds, as well as the great brick and stone buildings of Canterlot and Fillydelphia and Manehattan. She had visited the garishly colored Las Pegasus, and toured the Cloudsdale weather factory. When she was young and had no responsibilities, she had flown one weekend far enough east to see the great ocean, and had wondered what lay on the other side.
She smiled at the memories, and, unnoticed, a tear trailed down her cheek. She stood tall and flared her wings. She needed to get back home; Dinky and Sparkler would be missing her, and she them.
You are as young as you want to be, she thought to herself, and stepped to the edge of the cloud. About to step off, she paused, then giggled for a moment. Holding her head proudly aloft, she pronounced to the heavens, “For the glory of Equestria, I will fly to Ponyville!”
And then she jumped.
