Of Rumbling Dinks

by RavensDagger

Rating: everyone
Tags: Romance, Comedy, Dinky Hooves, Rumble, Slice of Life, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic
Length: 30238

When the previously lonely Dinky Hooves makes it to school, she learns a little about the meaning of true friendship, and maybe a bit about love.

Dinky Hooves is excited. For the first time in her young life she’s about to go to school. Her goal? To learn, have fun and above all else: make some friends.

But the path isn’t always so cleanly cut. Bullies, her own overwhelming shyness and a slightly (Read: very) over-protective mom stand between her and the life she wishes to lead.

And maybe there’s a little something about that cool colt...

Published 2013-01-19 00:00:02 UTC
Last updated 2013-09-17 02:26:52 UTC

Bows, Arrows and Thermite Don't Mix

“All right, who’s left?” asked Miss Cheerilee as she stood on the tip of her hooves and looked to the far end of the classroom. Her smile—which had hours ago been happy and beaming—was now strained at the edges as she stared at the two remaining ponies, her gaze flickering to the wall-mounted clock.

At Dinky’s side, Archer waved a blue wing in the air, whooshing it back and forth, creating a breeze of air in the stifling room. “I’m next, Miss!” she boldly declared before hopping out of her seat. Bending down, the filly picked a grocery bag from within her saddlebags then trotted across the room.

Fillies and colts stared at her prancing by, then sighed as they fanned themselves with folded pieces of paper.

In her own seat, Dinky shifted nervously, biting her lower lip even as thick beads of sweat cascaded out of her blonde mane and onto her forehead. It wasn’t the intense, greenhouse-like heat that was getting to her: it was the simple fact that she was going to present next.

With a stomp and thump, Archer spun around and faced the crowd of students, a beaming smile twisting across her face. “So,” she loudly began. “For Show Don’t Tell, I brought this!” Her wing shot into the bag and rummaged about within while she bit her tongue. They all watched in rising anticipation until, finally, she removed an arrow.

Diamond Tiara, one of the many who had been excited a moment ago, harrumphed. “Saw that coming,” she murmured to Silver Spoon, loud enough that the snide remark carried through the room.

They’re so mean, Dinky thought before tearing her attention away and focusing on her friend.

“Right, like Diamond What’s-Her-Face so... kindly volunteered, this is an arrow.” Archer presented the object to all, fiddling with its length and making it twirl around, its sharp point whistling as it sliced the air. “I would have brought the entire bow,” she explained, her habitual half-smile appearing, “but it’s illegal to carry a weapon through the town.”

Some of the colts oohed and ahhed before Miss Cheerilee stepped around her desk and patiently sat down beside Archer. “And I thank you for that, Archer. Now, would you tell us a little more about what you brought? It’s very interesting.”

The blue filly nodded. “Uh-huh. An arrow’s made up of four parts.” She spun it again, this time pointing the back towards the class. “That little slit’s the nock, where you put the string. And this feathery bit’s the fletching.”

Silver Spoon barked a laugh. “So complicated; it’s a wonder you can handle it at all.”

Archer shot a glare at the filly, then carried on. “This part at the end’s the pile. It’s the business end and it’s, uh, sorta pointy. And the long bit here’s the shaft.”

At his end of the room, Snails snorted and giggled until Miss Cheerilee coughed and gave him the evil eye.

Archer fumbled from side to side, her blue face turning an unfortunate shade of purple. A cruel grin crossed Diamond Tiara’s face. “That’s it? Wow, can we ask questions yet?”

The teacher intervened. “If Archer is done, yes; you can ask her some questions.”

“All right, so, um, Archer, where did you fletch all that archery equipment?” Diamond Tiara asked, snickering at her own humour. A few others caught on and joined in with the laughter.

In her seat, Dinky furrowed her brows.I don’t get it, why’re they laughing?

“Oh, very funny, Diamond.” Archer met the jokester with a firm glare as her feathers ruffled. “Knock it off, alright?”

Silver Spoon smiled mischievously. “Are you telling us to nock it off? Did we say something bad? You’re quivering with anger!”

Miss Cheerilee rolled her eyes, but the shadow of a smile twitched at the edges of her lips. “Okay kids, calm down,” she said over the din of laughing foals. “Archer, you did a great presentation, thank you.”

The filly nodded and began to walk back to her seat only to stop beside Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon, both of whom were sitting in the front row. She glared daggers at them, the sharp-tipped arrow still spinning in the grasp of her wingtips.

They swallowed hard, smiled sheepishly, then waved at her. “Uh-huh, that’s right,” the pegasus growled before moving on. Her hoofsteps sounded across the room for a moment until she slid into her seat.

Dinky smiled tentatively at her new friend, and, to her great wonder and awe, the pegasus filly smirked back. The joy was short-lived, however, as Miss Cheerilee scoured the class for anypony who had yet to go up until her gaze landed on the less-than-excited Dinky.

“Ah, Dinky Hooves. I believe it’s your turn, and you’re last, fina—great!” the teacher said, smiling at the shivering filly.

“Well, um... I, uh,” she stammered, feeling the eyes of all on her. One pair in particular seemed to grab her attention and keep it.

“Go on,” mouthed Rumble. “It’ll be cool, I’m sure.”

Within her, the filly’s heart swelled, then began to quake like a princess staring at cake. A cake made of a hundred conflicting emotional layers that she couldn’t begin to name. And it tasted like raspberries.

“Uh, Dinky,” Archer whispered. “You should probably, you know, get on up?”

The words snapped her out of the reverie, and in a rush of clumsy limbs and near-tumbles, she reached into her bags and levitated out a large box, one that rattled and thumped as she hurriedly carried it across the room and to the teacher’s side.

“Well, um...” she began, then froze as the class stared at her.

Miss Cheerilee caught on to her nervousness, gently touching her shoulder. Her warm hoof sent a comforting tingle down the filly’s side. “Just show us what you brought; it’s not hard.”

“Well, right.... So, I sorta really like a lot of things, but I decided that maybe this would be the most interesting one to show to you guys.” She popped open the box, and out of it floated three beakers and a metallic plate atop a support rack, one made of bent clothes hangers.

Diamond Tiara leaned over her bench and stared at the assortment of glass vials. “That’s interesting: a bunch of glass with sand in it. It’s so wonderful,” she said, voice dripping with venom.

“That’s enough, Diamond Tiara,” Miss Cheerilee said. “Sit back down and let Dinky present her... things.”

Hoof trembling, Dinky touched the vials one at a time. “Well, um, I really like chemistry, because I read a lot of books about it as a... younger filly, and used to imagine that I was doing things with chemicals for my stuffed animals.”

A few ponies giggled at her, the laughter whipping at her emotions. Still, she pressed ahead. “My Mommy bought me a set to try things last year, and I guess she made some parts herself. And I really enjoy it. So I thought I could do an experiment today with you guys,” she said, her hoof tracing along the grooves of the wooden floor.

“I’m sure we’d love that,” Miss Cheerilee said.

“All right. Well, I have oxidized iron filaments and powdered aluminum here.” She levitated the two bottles, one filled with shavings of rust, the other a shiny, silver-coloured sand. “And we mix it in the iron bowl....” The two solids tinked into the plate while everypony watched, either with wide eyes or a detached curiosity.

The teacher coughed lightly. “Have you done this before, Dinky?”

The filly nodded, even as her horn glowed and a tiny, translucent sphere appeared around the plate. “Yeah, some things like this. But never this recipe. Now, I just need a spark to set off the reaction...”

“Oh? And what’s the recipe called, exactly?” Miss Cheerilee asked.

“Thermite.”

[Author’s Note: Do NOT try that recipe at home. Really. You have to be A+ certifiably stupid to do that. Don’t. The only advantage would be your clearance from the gene pool.]

“I didn’t mean to do that.”

Archer reached out with a wing, the afternoon breeze playing with her multitude of feathers as she touched her friend’s shoulders. “Ah, don’t worry, it was awesome!”

Dinky glanced at the blue filly, the joy the simple friendly touch would have usually given her overshadowed by her grief. “Archer, I melted a hole through the floor.”

“It was warm in there; now there’s going to be more venti-vent... more air going around.”

She shifted her attention ahead to the streets of Ponyville, then at the countryside beyond the town. The two were alone beside the schoolhouse, the others having left minutes ago while Miss Cheerilee forced Dinky to clean the mess. Or what little of it she could clean.

The other foals had all left, running along and to wherever they wished to play on the suddenly-short school day. Archer, though, stayed behind,waiting for the little unicorn. “I really scared Silver Spoon too....” she said, tears threatening to well up once more.

Archer snorted a laugh. “Yeah, that was sweet; did you see their manes? Teach them to laugh at us!” She hummed, then looked at Dinky. “Wait, why’d you only mention Silver?”

“Well, there was pee all over the underneath of her chair,” Dinky began to say.

Archer guffawed, twisting over her side as she clutched her chest and laughed like a madmare, rolling from side to side and even crying a little. “She, she... did that... ‘cause you scared her? It’s awesome!”

Dinky’s face reddened. “No, it’s not nice. It’s really embarrassing for her... we shouldn’t tell anypony, or it might hurt her feelings.”

“You’re so soft,” Archer said as she rolled around and came to all fours. They locked eyes for a moment, then the pegasus spoke on, “Okay, fine. But if they come at us again, I’m putting it under her filthy snout.”

“Well, alright.” Is this what it’s like, having a friend? she wondered. I sorta like it. A lot.

Above them, a few stray clouds blotted out the intense fall sun, then skimmed ahead, calling their attention to the early hour. “Now what?” Archer asked. “Should we... I don’t know, go to my place? Or something.”

“I-I-I... that’d be wonderful!” she said, her energy and vigour returning in full force. “I’ve never been to a friend’s house before! Oh, maybe you could come to my place one day, and meet Mom, and Lenore.”

The filly began to walk along the grassy path, hooves lightly tickled by the stray leaves that crackled as she stepped upon them. “You can keep listing things off, or you can come with me,” Archer said, shrugging with her wings.

Dinky blinked at her, then giggled before skipping to her side. “I’m coming!”

As two, they made their way down towards the town in relative silence, only the bustle of the faraway foals playing and the occasional cheer or gleeful laughter from within the town itself. She wanted to be there, yet she had a friend now, and that entailed certain responsibilities. She hummed. “Um, Archer?”

“Yeah?”

“What are friends supposed to do?”

The blue filly stared at her for a moment, then kept looking at where she was heading. “I... don’t know, I guess. Look out for each other, maybe?”

Dinky nodded solemnly. “But, that’s it?”

“No, no. There’s more. A lot more. Like, it’s... um. Sorta like accepting somepony, being close to them because you want to be close to them because you like them because they like you back.” She furrowed her brows and blinked a few times. “I think it’s... um, that thing where you’re really tough about a thing...”

“Endurance?”

“Yeah, it’s that too. ‘Cause nopony’s perfect and so your friend won’t be. You need to be able to be a friend even if the pony you’re friends with isn’t acting their best.” Archer huffed and puffed out her chest, proud of her explanation.

Dinky nodded, slowly absorbing the information. How can I be her friend? she wondered. I need to be the best friend. Ever.Side by side, the pair trotted around Ponyville, following the long and winding path as they basked in the glowing sun. A cart was parked in the centre of the street, a big red stallion glaring at it while the fillies circumvented him and began to descend a long hill.

Two ponies were walking along the same path as they: a pearly-white unicorn filly and a gangly beige pegasus colt whose wing was wrapped around the filly’s back, tenderly hugging her. Dinky stared at the couple as she trotted by, her focus shifting until she looked at the road ahead. “I guess love is sorta like friendship,” she said.

Archer rolled her eyes and stuck out her tongue. “Nuh-uh, I don’t want none of that lovey-dovey stuff. A friend or two, I don’t mind, but I’ll never get anywhere with my archery if I don’t focus on it. It’s an art, you know?”

“Well, okay,” Dinky said, watching the couple over her shoulder. A warm gust swirled by, lifting her mane and making it play across the wind. With it came the sounds of foals shouting and cheering.

They paused, slowing to a halt and searching around for the school children that were making the noise, the hair on the back of their necks rising and their eyes widening in childish expectation. It sounded like fun.

Out of a side road sandwiched between two homes came Rumble, panting and laughing at the same time before half a dozen foals charged out after him, some tagging him with glee while others chased him down and bore him to the ground. “Okay, okay, you guys win!” he shouted between giggles, shifting about until he stood on all fours.

The group dispersed as if on cue to mill around and chat. Rumble swept a hoof across his chest, brushing off some dust and dirt while he amicably chatted with a few colts.

Dinky swallowed hard, the presence of so many happy foals, all of them friends and playmates, set her on edge, an edge that she crossed with finality as Rumble’s purple eyes stared a hole into her soul.

“Dinky! Archer!” the colt said, ears perking and a quick grin spreading across his features. “What are you two up to?” he asked, abandoning his friends with a wave of his wing to trot up to them.

“Oh, we were just heading over to my place,” Archer said, “I was going to show Dinky my bows and all that.”

The colt looked at her, impressed. “Wow, sounds awesome! You’ll have to show me sometime. But, uh, if you guys want, we’re about to play a quick game of hide and seek. wanna join?”

“I-I’d love that!” Dinky said breathlessly, then looked at the blue filly beside her. “But I can't.... I promised Archer that we’d go to her house today, and I can never break a promise; I want to be a good friend.”

“Oh, come on,” Archer groaned. “My bows won’t disappear. We can have a bit of fun, then look at them later.”

The unicorn filly began to prance on the spot, hooves rhythmically beating the ground as she spun a quick circle, then stopped in front of Rumble, face flushed and panting for all she was worth. “Thank you so, so much!”

He shrugged. “No problem. My brother said that you should always have more friends if you want to drill through life and shoot for the heavens! Plus, it’s thanks to your, uh, experiment that we got half the day off.” Without further ado, he turned around and made his way downhill to the others. “Okay everypony,” he said, immediately grabbing all their attention. “How about some hide and seek?”

Dinky leaned over to Archer and murmured, “How do you play that game?”

Archer’s wing collided with her face with a clear and audible smack. “You hide, and hope to Celestia, Luna, and Princess Twilight Sparkle that nopony finds you. Then you trot back out after a few minutes; it’s easy.”

“I’m up for a game,” said one filly.

“Who’s it?” asked another.

A cruel and mischievous grin crossed Rumble’s lips. “Ten...”

Everypony skipped a beat.

“Nine...”

“Scatter!” screamed a few foals before galloping off in every direction and trailing thick plumes of dust and dirt behind them. Rumble smiled and sat down, bowing his head to the ground and closing his eyes. Over him stretched the barest hint of a shadow from the woods across the road. The air was warm, but not stifling.

“What’s going on?” Dinky asked naively, watching foals jump into bushes or scamper off around the corner of houses.

“Don’t just stand there, run!” Archer screamed, sprinting away.

“Eight!”

Okay, a hiding place, a hiding place, Dinky thought while looking around. Every tree and bush she looked at had eyes peeking out of them or tails spilling out. Giggles poured out from behind boulders and some foals were charging behind the nearby buildings as if their flanks were on fire.

“Seven...”

Oh no, this is bad! Biting her lower lip, the filly began to tremble, so much so that she failed to notice the tremendous roaring of cart wheels on uneven ground behind her. Blinking, Dinky looked behind her at the suddenly massive form of a full apple-cart barreling downhill towards her.

Apples fell off and were promptly crushed by the huge wheels. Across from it, Big Macintosh was galloping, legs kicking out as he tried to catch up with his precious cargo-turned-filly-killing-weapon.

She screamed, her piercing wail doing nothing against the cart. I’m going to die?! she wondered as the vehicle accelerated. Dinky closed her eyes and cringed.

Something hit her.

Something soft and warm and soothing brushed against her entire body as she was lifted into the air. Opening her eyes, Dinky looked up at Rumble’s face, one set and determined without a hint of fear. He just wanted to save me. Her heart swelled, even as her own fear began to dissipate under the colt’s firm grasp. Slowly, she took in a deep breath and savoured his aroma, one of early spring, earthworms, sweat and Daring Do Mane Shampoo.

They landed in a roll. Rumble’s shoulder slammed into the ground, eliciting a groan from the colt as he tumbled and kept Dinky close to himself, cushioning her from the impact.

Where she had stood seconds ago, the cart flew by with a cacophony of bumps and thumps, a wide-eyed Big Macintosh in tow. Dinky lay astride Rumble, trying her best to catch her breath and regain her senses as the colt slid out from beneath her and stood, wincing as he put some weight on his shoulder. “You okay?” he asked.

“I-I... thank you,” she whispered, face reddening from more than just the adrenaline rush and exhilaration.

“Just doing my duty,” he answered, grinning down at her before helping her up.

They both looked like a sorry mess as the other foals ran out of their hiding places and came to gawk. With them followed a chorus of “Are you okay”s and “Did you see that?”s. Amongst them was Archer, who zipped to Dinky’s side and leaned over her.

“You okay? Did you die? Break something?” the filly asked, shifting from one forehoof to another as she nearly trampled her friend.

Dinky smiled at her, cheeks puffing out. “I’m okay,” she said before turning her attention to Rumble. “Are you okay?” she began to ask, but her minuscule voice was drowned out by the surging foals.

The colt grinned at them, then lifted a hoof, motioning for silence. After a beat, they quelled their voices, but their excitement was still palpable. “I found you, and you, and you...” he began pointing from one foal to another, his grin widening as momentary despair crossed their features. He laughed, cutting his own tagging off. “That was the shortest game of hide and seek, ever!”

Most joined in the laughter while a few sore losers huffed and kicked at the ground playfully. “It wasn’t really fair,” he conceded,” so.... Ten...”

They ran, screaming and laughing while they scurried off and tried to find new hiding places.

Rumble turned his deep, violet eyes onto Dinky, causing blood to flood her ears as her heart beat erratically. The analytical part of her young mind wondered if she had suffered from a concussion; the emotional part wanted a bigger one. “Are you really okay?” he asked, this time keeping his voice to a concerned whisper.

Dinky nodded, biting her lower lip as she turned her attention away, her voice stolen while her mind reeled. Why am I feeling like this? “Well, I’m okay... are you?”

He waved her off. “I’m fine. Still, I think it might be best that you gals head home and relax for a bit. Wouldn’t want to see you hurt yourself, and I know that Archer will make sure you’re all right.” He blushed. “At least, I-I think that’s what my brother would say.”

“Ah, don’t worry one bit; I’ll watch over her,” Archer said, stretching her wings behind her as she spoke. “Nothing to worry about. And I think you’re at about three.”

Rumble smiled, glanced at Dinky again, and with a subtle blush, spun around. “Two!”

The colt ran off, shouted the last number, then set about his search for the other foals. Dinky watched him go, then sighed. “I like him,” she said factually.

“Uh-huh, he’s nice enough.... So, wanna come to my place?” Archer asked, trying to be cool about it while her wings beat excitedly behind her, betraying her true feelings.

“Well, yeah, that sounds like fun, I guess.” And I promised. Mommy made me swear never to break a promise.

They began down the hill, Dinky paying attention to the playing foals as they made their way around Big Macintosh's crashed cart and into the town proper. The sounds of those behind them were absorbed by the soft, pastel-coloured walls of the houses, only to be replaced by the hubbub of adults and the occasional laugh. The sun was weak on their backs as they flitted by the shadows cast by the buildings, always moving ahead with Archer leading the way with a quick step.

“Almost there!” she chimed over her shoulder, taking a sharp turn and avoiding a crowd of older ponies that occupied the centre road.

Dinky kept looking around her, absorbing as much as she could of the scenery and the town. She had been here before, many times, but always with the presence of her mother nearby, shielding and protecting her. Now, she was alone, facing the big bad town all on her lonesome, like a big filly.

No, she reminded herself. She wasn’t alone. Ahead of her, Archer’s tail twitched, trying to rid herself of some of the oppressive heat. She had a friend; nothing could be bad now. Except maybe losing that friend. “So,” she began, trying to spark a conversation, “will your parents mind that I came over?”

“Nah, my mom works in Baltimare, my dad in Las Pegasus. Ponyville’s sorta the middle ground for them. But it still means that I spend a lot of time alone.”

“Oh.” Dinky tried to imagine living on her own without Mommy.

“Here we are!” Archer said, gesturing ahead with her wings.

Separated from its neighbouring homes by a sizable yard was a two-story house. Taller than it was large, the building practically jutted out of the row of houses with its white and blue paint. Around it was a tall fence that a few birds had chosen as a perch.

“Come on,” the blue filly said before charging to the front door and twisting it with a wingtip. The door clicked open and Archer trotted in, brushing her hooves on the rough carpet in the inner entrance. “It’s not much, I guess,” she said as Dinky followed.

“Oh no, it’s really pretty,” the unicorn replied, taking in the room with a wide-eyed elation. She had made a friend. And was in that friend’s house in less than a week!

Every wall was covered in pictures of exotic places or hoof-painted scenery, yet not one of them was an image of the family that lived there. Wood trimmed everything, including the well-worn furniture and the homely bits of decoration.

“Are you thirsty?” Archer asked as she trotted deeper into the home, hooves tapping on the marble floor of the nearby kitchen.

“Um, not really.”

“Aww, come on, some apple juice? Water? Sunny P?” she asked from the other room, the sound of glass tinking against glass ringing out.

“Well, I guess some water wouldn’t hurt.”

“One glass, coming right up! Then we can go out back and I’ll show you my shed.” She returned, a tray with two cups precariously balanced on her back, wings touching it lightly every time it tipped.

Dinky focused on one of the cups, levitating it with just a tiny exertion of her strength. “All right. I can’t wait to see,” she said before taking a sip of the cold liquid, allowing it to seep down her throat and soften the day’s heat and her fierce blush.

Nonchalantly, Archer led Dinky deeper into the house and along a corridor, one that ended in a pair of French doors that gave her a clear view of the fenced-in backyard. With a swipe of her forehoof, the filly swung the door open and hopped out, looking behind her expectantly.

Dinky followed, eyes wandering around the thin-but-long yard and to the far end where a shed stood, one with two bulls-eyes freshly painted on its side. The filly headed to the little building, hooves trailing in the slightly long grass and swished along underhoof. A wind blew by, gentle and caressing in the warmth of the fall day. Dinky sighed contentedly and followed along.

With a nudge, the door to the shed opened up. Archer backed away, beaming proudly before gesturing for Dinky to look in.

She obliged.

Within, dozens of bows lined the walls. All of them were hooked in perfect rows from smallest to largest. Highly accurate weapons that radiated power and danger changed to simpler wooden bows that could have belonged in the Hearth’s Warming Eve play.

Across the other wall were thousands of arrows of different lengths, all of them sticking out of bins, fletched end first. “Whoa!” Dinky said, as her jaw slackened. “There’re so many, and they’re so shiny!” She turned to her new friend. “How’d you get all of these?”

“My mom and dad buy me gifts when they can’t be around. You know, to make up for lost time and all that. They know that I love bows so...”

“That’s nice,” Dinky said, looking at the collection again. “The only gifts I ever get are hoof-made. But I like them.”

Archer swallowed, shifting her gaze away before returning with a beaming smile. “Oh, do you want to try one?”

Dinky bit her lower lip. “Well, I couldn’t. I might break something, and I don’t know how.”

“Oh, don’t be silly!” The pegasus hopped into the shed and trotted along the row, skipping from one to another and occasionally humming. Finally, she shifted her weight to her haunches and picked one with her mouth, then grabbed some arrows with her wing tips. “Ghom hon, I’ll shhow yoush!” she said through her filled mouth.

The pair marched towards Archer’s house, only stopping when they were a decent distance from the side of the shed. Archer gently laid the bow on the ground. “All right! So, let’s get to it,” she said with a voice full of energy while she strung the device. “I’ll fire a round or two, then show you how to do it, all right?”

Dinky nodded, her face contorted in a massive grin.

Archer hopped over the bow, then bent over and picked it up. With one forehoof set in the circular grip, she lifted the long, potentially lethal bow and hefted it up. She stood, her hind legs firmly planted in the grassy ground with the bow—the same height as she—poised to fire.

Smoothly, and as if she had all the time in Equestria, Archer fitted an arrow, sliding the nock into place as her breathing became even, serene. Her purple eyes narrowed, focusing solely on the distant target.

The wind blew on, carrying her sapphire blue mane with it as each individual hair glinted in the sun’s light.

Dinky held her breath, waiting for that tense moment where the filly—her friend—would fire.

“Dinky Doo Hooves!” said a very familiar voice in a very familiar tone, one that cracked down on the filly like a whip.

She swallowed hard and looked up while Archer twitched and let loose the arrow, missing the shed and thunking in the fence wall with a solid blow.

Above them floated Derpy Hooves, the grey mare holding both forehooves on her haunches as she scowled down at her daughter. “Just what do you think you’re doing?”

Uh-oh... “I was.... Well, I was just playing with Archer,” she said, making herself seem as small as possible while the mare descended.

“You were playing? After almost burning the school house down?” she accused upon landing with a huff. Her glare shifted to Archer, sizing the filly up with a quick glance. “And who’s this?”

“It’s... it’s just Archer... she’s a friend,” Dinky whined.

“I don’t want to hear it,” Derpy said, her forehoof thumping the ground. “You have a lot of explaining to do, missy. I got to the school and found you gone. Not to mention the hole in the floor.” Dinky winced.

In a flash, the grey mare was on her, hugging Dinky as tightly as she could, the scent of muffins and mom wafting from her. “Oh, I was so worried!” she cried out, squeezing harder.

Archer looked at them, blinking dumbly as she lowered her bow to the ground.

“Don’t ever do that again!” the mare said, tears stinging her eyes.

“Oh, um, okay, Mommy,” Dinky said, patting her mother’s back as the mare began to let go.

Sniffling away some tears, the mare looked at her daughter. “Let’s get going; you should be home by now.”

Dinky glanced at Archer, then at her mother, mind still on the brink of confusion while she took a moment to recuperate. “Okay.”

“Bye-bye, Arched Her,” Derpy said before dragging her daughter along and out of a side path through a well-oiled gate.

“Bye?” Archer called back as her friend was carried away. She watched Dinky leave with sadness, and, perhaps, envy.

Edited by:
These folks (can't say 'guys' anymore)

Mommy and Daughter's First (and last) Double Date

“So, I tell her, ‘No, you,’ and that’s how I won my first tournament.” Archer grinned and hopped up, her bags thumping on her back right below the joint where her wings met her body. “After that, I got my cutie mark.”

“Wow,” Dinky said, skipping over puddles of water on the road’s edge. “That’s so cool! I have never won any tournaments or anything like that.” She beamed at her friend as the clouds parted. Dinky watched as the light streamed onto her blank flank. "I wonder what my cutie mark will be. I guess I'll find out sooner or later."

“You’re not in a hurry?”

The grey filly hiked up her shoulders up. “Well, not really. I don’t know what it will be, but I’m sure it’s going to be something... me-like.” Dinky shifted her attention back to the roadway. “You must have been happy to get yours, and I bet your parents were proud, too!”

Archer drooped her head, causing her mane to obscure her eyes. “Yeah, they were really happy. But, neither of them were there that day....”

“Oh.” That must be really hard. I couldn’t live without Mommy.

“Anywho! Do you want to go over to Pinkie Pie’s? She’s got these mean

triple-decker-heart-attack-and-high-cholesterol-inducing cupcakes. They’re so good that you’re not allowed to bake them in six countries. My treat?”

Stomach gurgling, Dinky spied the road ahead where the cobblestone streets of Ponyville turned towards the town’s centre. “Well, I’d love to, but I should really be studying instead. School’s not over until summer starts and that means we should work hard until then.”

Archer slowed to a plodding stop. “You’re kidding me, right? You’d rather study than enjoy yourself? We don’t even have a test coming up yet or anything!”

“Well, there are other things to study. Right now, I’m looking into basic atomic structure and energy production. I think I figured out how to split an atom by using magic. It might be like a cell, where you split one and then get two, or maybe it’s going to be a like a burst. I can’t wait to try! Maybe you should study biology or something? It sorta goes with archery, and we’ll be talking about it in the middle of our textbooks this year.”

Placing a hoof on Dinky’s shoulder, Archer forced the young mare to face her. “Dinky, as your friend and somepony that dearly wants to endure your presence, I will take it upon myself to teach you how to have fun.”

“I-I know how to have fun...! Math is fun, right?” She called me her friend again! This is perfect. The sixteenth time in eight days! I wonder if there’s a scale of friendship, or a comprehensive list of gradual increments?

“Celestia, no!” Archer exclaimed, calling Dinky back to the moment. “Math sucks! I hate it!” Her nose wrinkled in distaste.

“Well, that’s only because you fail to understand it yet.”

“Oh, yeah? You don’t understand fun yet. When’s the last time you played instead of doing your homework? Or took a nap in class when it gets boring? Or passed along some notes? Or made silly faces at others? I’ll teach you what fun is like!”

Somepony behind and above them coughed.

With a bad case of preemptive cringing, Dinky looked up to the grey form of a pegasus floating above her with a fierce and all-too-familiar scowl.

“Dinky Doo Hooves. What’s this talk about passing notes in class and taking naps?” her mother asked, not in anger but with a disappointed whisper; it was far, far worse.

“M-M-Mommy. I... we were just talking, about stuff, and things. It’s of no concern, really,” the filly said, backing up until puddle water welled around her ankles.

Derpy Hooves stared at Archer with the discerning eyes of a mother whose precious little filly was in harm’s way and harrumphed. “Dinky, we’re going to have a long, long talk about bad influences. Okay? “

“Yes, ma’am,” both fillies said together before swallowing hard and giving each other sidelong glances.Oh no, if she doesn’t stop... Mommy's going to ruin everything. “What’s wrong, Mommy? Why’re you here and not at home?” Dinky asked, forcing a smile that never touched her eyes.

“I’ll tell you later, my little muffin." Dinky cringed and Archer’s lips twitched a tiny bit on the edges. "But first, we have to go home, and we need to get ready in a hurry. We have a date." Giving Archer a warning glance, Derpy beat her wings and took to the air, a trail of loose feathers leading after her as she soared towards the north.

Archer watched the mare go, eyes trailing after the quickly fading form before she spoke. “Your mom’s a little crazy, but she seems nice enough.” Turning her head back to Dinky, she smiled. “Maybe me and your mom can meet a little more... nicely?”

“Well, I sure hope so,” Dinky sighed.A date? What sort of date? We’re on the eighth of Fall today. Is that what she meant? Did we get new calendars? With her mane swishing from side to side, the filly shook her head, banishing the thoughts for the time being. “Right, I’d better go after her. I’m sorry about the cupcake thing. Maybe next time we could, um... do friend stuff?” she asked as her forehoof dug an involuntary hole in the ground.

“Yeah, sure thing. I’ll see you tomorrow, then,” Archer said. The blue filly extended a hoof and left it hanging between the two.

After the barest hesitation, Dinky bumped hooves. “Right! I can’t wait. Don’t forget to study, and remember the math homework that Miss Cheerilee gave us, all right?”

Archer nodded. “Yeah, yeah. Get going, Dinky. I’ll wait for you before school.” She turned and began walking away, her outstretched wings saluting from behind. “Bye!”

Well, I guess I should get going. Dinky turned as well and plodded towards her home. Pastel homes and colourful ponies passed by her on every side. Foals and adults laughed aloud, the joyous sounds amplified by the proximity of the buildings, while birds flitted through the sky, scavenging for food and bedding. Still, something was off.

The ponies were concerned with their own matters. Mate with mate, friend with friend. The chatting wasn’t aimless, but always targeted to an acquaintance. In the centre of it, Dinky was alone.

Lower lip trembling, the purplish-grey unicorn sped up her pace and blinked away any premature tears. D-don’t be silly. I’ve only left Archer for a minute, and I’m going to see Mommy. She’s my bestest friend, no? As Dinky crossed the threshold of weird to familiar, the little pony shook off the gripping fear and paranoia; it still remained embedded in her like a throbbing splinter, but one that had lost its edge.

With one last curve taken, Dinky found herself on the path home. Her hooves bit at the gravelly road, lifting a thin plume of dust and the occasional stray leaf behind her. I might not know too much about fun, but I know that being alone isn’t.

Her house loomed ahead, a fortress of solitude and a sanctuary of safety, surrounded by hedges that were just a little overgrown with a garden that had badly needed some weeding three weeks ago, and was now a jungle of terrible proportions. The aroma of freshly baked muffins lingered in the air, giving even the most tenacious thorny brambles a homely smell.

The old, oaken door gave way with a shove of magic and a grunt from the filly. Its opening allowed the day’s light to pour into the spartan dining room and shine on the pots and pans flying through the air.

“Huh?” was all Dinky had time to say before the clatter of steel on drywall cut her off. Before her mind had formulated a hypothesis to explain the sudden presence of airborne cutlery, Derpy Hooves flew past the entryway in a blur, dragging loose sheets of paper in her wake. “Mommy?” the filly squeaked.

Her mother appeared again, this time with all four hooves grinding on the ground to slow her flight in front of the master bedroom’s door. “Dinky! You’re home.”

“Um, well, yes, I guess I am,” she said as she stepped into the little home. The house was a mess, more so than usual. Dresses and fancy accessories were heaped across the counters, and makeup stained the kitchen mirror. Dinky had little time to determine probable causes before she found herself face-to-face with her mother’s mascara, blush and lipstick cover canvas of a face.

“Mommy... are you... all right?”

“Oh, my little muffin! I’m more than ‘alright.’ I’m all right! But you need to hurry up and make yourself pretty.” She sniffed Dinky. “Also, you smell terrible.”

Zipping back to the kitchen, Derpy pushed bottles and jars about with her wings until, finally, she grabbed a long, thin bottle of yellow-grey liquid and trotted back to Dinky. “Close your eyes,” she ordered before lifting the perfume.

Three splashes later, Dinky was assaulted with the thick scent of lilac and lemons while splotches of her coat fizzled and puffed. “Mommy, what’s going on?” Dinky said as she stepped away from her mother.

“Didn’t I tell you? We’re going on a date, my little pastry. Now, go put on something pretty and meet me outside—” she glanced at the wall clock “—two minutes ago.”

Without further ado, the mare sidestepped around her daughter and trotted out the door with her white dress flowing around her form. Blinking at her mother’s aftershadow, Dinky’s mind kicked back into full gear. Well, okay. Mom has a date with somepony. I have to go with her. Wait, Mommy has a date? A slow smile began to tug at her. “Mommy has a date!” she said aloud in a sing-songy voice. “And she didn’t remember about Archer!”

“We’ll talk about that blue filly later!” Derpy’s voice rang through the still-open doorway. “Hurry up!”

Dinky’s smile vanished. Groaning, she walked across the living room and slid into her bedroom, leaving the door wide open as she slid off her saddlebags and tossed them onto her bed. The bags bounced off the primed and pressed surface.

I wonder if I’ll have enough time to do all of next week's homework? she wondered as she made a beeline to her closet. Within the closed locker were dozens of items of clothing, all set in neat rows above stacked textbooks that couldn’t find any place on her shelves. Horn aglow, Dinky pulled out a dozen ribbons and spun them through the air. Her eyes alighted on a bright yellow affair with tiny bubble shapes printed over it. I guess that’ll do.

The glowing ribbon spun about around her short mane and tied itself into a tight bow. Her reflection smiled back, the bow bouncing behind her head as she nodded to herself. Right, now to find out what this is all about.... I can’t believe Mommy has a date!

I wonder if he’s handsome? Oh! Maybe it’s that weird doctor.... Nah, he pretended not to know me last time, she thought before sticking out her tongue. That was rude. I guess I could just ask her, she reasoned as she clicked the door shut and headed outside.

“That’s all you’re wearing?” Derpy asked with a lifted brow.

“Well, I don’t think it’s going to be too formal... is it?”

Derpy shook her head. “No, he doesn’t even know that we’re going, yet. You should be fine. Maybe you can play with his little brother while Mommy talks about big-pony things?”

The two young mares began to walk along the gravelly path. Derpy took the lead with long skips and bounds that brought her into the air with the erratic beats of her wings. An enormous smile split her features, only beset by the inkling of worry hidden behind her forward-looking gaze.

When the mother-daughter duo reached the town's edge, a question lingered in Dinky's head. "Mommy?" She shook her head, letting the bow settle along her back. “Who is it that we’re going to see? I mean, your ‘date’?”

The mother settled at her daughter's side, wings gently folding back into place with each feather stretched to their limit. “Just a very nice, and very handsome, young gentlestallion. He has a little brother in your class.” Derpy stared at her daughter with the same expression reserved for final warnings. “Now, you’d better be nice to that little colt. I don’t want to hear about you hurting his feelings, all right?”

“Um, sure Mommy... but who is it?” she asked before nudging up to her mom’s side and firing away with the biggest puppy-dog eyes she could manage.

Derpy’s face twisted into a wispy knowing smile and she looked ahead, ignoring the water-filled orbs her daughter was presenting. “That nice, charming young stallion I met on your first day of school. You know, Mister Thunderlane.”

“Rumble’s brother?!” Dinky blurted out, almost tripping as the ground turned from uneven gravel to paved stones. Wait, wait, wait,she told herself as the entire world dropped out below her, unleashing a wave of vertigo that yanked her insides around. Mommy wants to date Rumble’s brother?

“Yup. That little colt.”

For a moment of silence, the two listened to the plodding of their hooves on the ground, Derpy’s excited tapping and Dinky’s measured pace. Derpy led them through the twists and turns of the town, always navigating towards the centre where more and more ponies were gathered. The markets were closing for the day to escape while the sun was still in the sky. Carts rattled by and ponies were saying their goodbyes on street corners and from one window to another, while the wafting scent of a dozen different supper meals circulated with the traffic.

Dinky closed her eyes and faced the descending sun, feeling the calming rays as they played across her visage. I hope this date thing’s not too long. I need sleep if I’m to do well in school tomorrow.... I wonder how Rumble’s going to be? Her stomach began to churn, but she suspected that it had little to do with the aromas around her.

“I’ve had my eye on this Thunderlane colt for a little while now. He seems like quite the gentlestallion... and he’s one good-looking stud-muffin.”

Dinky shrugged. “Okay. Isn’t he a little young though, Mommy? He’s, like, half your age.”

“He is not! He’s two-thirds my age. And don’t you go telling him or his brother, okay? There’s no age to love.”

“Huh. Does that mean I can date somepony older than me?” Dinky asked.

Hooves crashed into the pavement and struck up sparks as Derpy came to an immediate stop and swung around, bringing her face within a hair's breadth of her daughter’s. “No.”

Swallowing hard, Dinky nodded slowly. “Okay.” Note to self: Never mention dating to Mommy. Not that I would want to date... I don’t think. Dating sounds complicated. And scary. And I’d need a colt to date. Maybe Rumble wou—Dinky shook her head and allowed her thoughts to jumble about. Blood rushed to her cheeks and, under her mother’s questioning stare, she found something to look at on the ground below.

“We’ll talk about that later, too. I can’t have my little filly worried about things like that, yet. You’re too young to fall in love.” Placing a wing on Dinky’s back, Derpy nodded to the road ahead while her face contorted into a mischievous smile. “Come on, I’m sure we’ll have nice, safe fun.”

As they made their way around a few more bends, the pair began to gain some momentum. Ponies were becoming scarcer as the sky started to darken and shops began to close their doors, all save for one.

Up ahead—standing in full decorum like a testament to joy, fun, and pies—was Sugarcube Corner.

Candlelight flickered out from within; the wispy trails of smoke mixed with the steam of a dozen baking pies. Cooked apple, blueberry, chocolate and a hundred spices made the air thick and succulent to the taste. Dinky found herself licking her lips and biting back the need to salivate all over the ground as her mother beelined to the restaurant.

“Are we going to Sugarcube Corner?” Pupils dilating and eyes widening, Dinky ran ahead of her mother, spun around, and began hopping on the spot. “Are we? Are we? Are we?”

“Yes, my little muffin, we’re going there. But Mommy wants you to be very calm and respectful. And don’t talk to strangers or follow them into carriages, especially if they offer you candy.” Derpy forged ahead until she reached the propped-open door to the restaurant. Laughter poured out, the high-pitched giggles of mares and throaty guffaws of older stallions. “Be very polite, okay? Mister Thunderlane doesn’t know that we’re on a date yet.”

Can you do that? Date somepony without them knowing? Dinky followed her mother into the pastry shop, the shift in sound of her hooves hitting the wooden floor coming in time with the sensory overload of the brightly lit interior.

Pastel-painted walls with candy-cane and lollipop trim was the backsplash to a room filled with awesome and intriguing paraphernalia. A pink mare was skipping about with a platter of cupcakes on her back, the pastries only holding on by the tiniest margin as she bounced from one table to the next, and chatted away in a high-pitched tone. She stopped at a table, one that held two colts of interest.

Another mare, older and radiating a warm calmness, walked across the room and stopped a few steps from Derpy. “Hello, is there any way I can help you?” she asked.

“Yes, please,” Derpy said. “Could we have a seat... over there?” Derpy pointed to one of the empty tables, one placed right beside that of Thunderlane and Rumble.

“Certainly.” The older mare led them through the maze of seats and chairs that filled the store currently at half-capacity.

As she trailed further behind her mother, Dinky craned her neck to see around the assortment of ponies until she could get a clean fix on Thunderlane and, especially, Rumble. As she was staring, a pair of pegasi seated nearby began whispering in hushed, conversational tones. Their voices carried over to Dinky’s perked ears.

“Come on, Flitter. It’s only for a bit of fun. Plus, you’ve seen how good he looks,” said the first, a purplish blue mare with a wild mane. She toyed with the mug on her end of the table, pushing it with a hooftip before dragging it back.

The other mare rolled her eyes and tossed a lock of her long mane over her ear. “Don’t be silly, Cloudchaser. You can see that he’s doing something with the kid. It’s important to them.”

“Hey, Rumble loves me!” Cloudchaser replied in a barking whisper. “I used to foalsit him. I can just trot up all nonchalant and strike up a conversation. No biggie.”

“Come on, Dinky. Sit down,” Derpy called from across the room.

The filly blinked and sped to the table where her mom was sitting, losing the conversation behind her as she did so. While she pulled out her seat and climbed into it, Derpy spoke with the waitress mare in a quick, clipped speech pattern, but wore a giddy smile the entire time.

“—and Dinky’s going to have some hot chocolate, please,” Derpy said, then nodded as the lady spun around and trotted away, murmuring the order to herself. “Okay, Dinky, this is it.” Eyes not-so-subtly turning in the direction of the table beside theirs, Derpy spied on Thunderlane and his brother.

Shrugging to the benefit of nopony but herself, Dinky looked at them, too.

Both colts were leaning on the table’s surface, staring at each other with easy smiles over two platters that had recently been filled with cakes, but that now looked like the sand of a dessert. Beside them were two boxes: one near Rumble, the other by Thunderlane. Both had been torn apart, decorative wrapping and ribbons drooping around the open maw that hid the box’s contents. Rumble’s had expert folds and crisp packaging, while Thunderlane’s was held together with more tape and well-wishes than anything else.

“Mommy, what are they doing?” Dinky asked as the waitress pony returned with their drinks.

“Oh, I don’t know. Celebrating some special occasion or something. I heard about it in his mail.” Both boys laughed aloud, the combination of their chorus of joy sending a wave of unease through Dinky. “I’m going to go talk to him,” Derpy said before beginning to push herself off the seat.

Dinky’s forehoof shot out and grabbed at her mother’s leg. “W-wait,” she said, still uncertain as to what she had done. The gaily painted walls of the store around her seemed to be closing in. Questions without answers flowed through her, pinging each time she realised that this was like a test she had not studied for: a situation that was new and scary and dangerous.

“M-Mommy,” she stuttered while her thoughts began to shape into a coherent string. “Mom, why are you doing this?”

“Oh, Dinky. One day you’ll understand. Ponies need friends, and some ponies need to feel loved. Mommy needs herself one hot stud-muffin to keep herself feeling loved.”

“B-but you have me, right? I love you.” Dinky let go of her mother’s hoof, her own clattering on the tabletop and making their two mugs of warm cocoa shake and shiver. “Well... what are you doing?”

“Of course I love you, Dinky, and don’t you ever forget that. But I want someone... more. Is it too much to want more love?” Derpy leaned her head to one side, an eyebrow arching gently.

Mommy does deserve a lot of love. “Yeah, okay. Have fun?” Dinky began to turn her gaze away, pushing through the haze of curiosity when a hoof touched her shin and turned her back.

“How about you help Mommy a little?” When Dinky began to shift her weight uncomfortably within her seat, Derpy began to give her a sly smile. “You can play with that nice Rumble colt while we talk, okay?”

With a scarlet blanket creeping over her features, Dinky nodded. “Okay,” she squeaked.

With much screeching of chairs and some adjusting of bows and dresses, Derpy and Dinky made their way to the nearest table. Derpy strutted ahead of her daughter while Dinky prayed that she could fade away into nothingness. This is all happening far too quickly, she thought as Derpy moved to one side, which gave her a clear view of Rumble. I’m not even sure what’s going on!

Thunderlane was the first to look at Derpy, his easy smile shifting and growing a little wider as he leaned back into his chair and nodded a quick hello. “Hey, Miss... Hooves? Right?”

“Mister Thunderlane,” Derpy replied, her own smile growing until every muscle along her face’s sides were stretched. “It’s such a coincidence to see you here today, and you too, Rumble. What are you two doing here today?”

“Oh, you know, just grabbing an unhealthy bite to eat and celebrating a little something. It was either that or try my cooking again.” Thunderlane and Rumble both stuck their tongues out and wrinkled their noses at the same time.

“You think that your cooking is bad?” Derpy asked with mock sincerity. “All I can make are muffins. But I make really good muffins.... Right, Dinky?”

Dinky nodded the affirmative while still keeping her head low, only peeking up at Rumble through her eyelashes. They’re really nice to each other. Just like me and Mommy.

“Hey, Dinky!” Rumble exclaimed. “Want to see what my brother got for me? I mean, if you're cool with that?”

Blinking back her surprise, Dinky stared at the grey colt’s inviting smile, then up to his jovial eyes. “Well, I-I guess, if y-you don’t mind....”

Reaching up, Rumble clasped the edge of the gift box with his teeth and pulled it off the table before turning and walking away. His tail swished around and the colt hummed an incoherent but happy tune as he trotted to a nearby table. “Comph ouhn, Ah’ll show yah!”

Dinky followed after him, keeping her ears low and pointed behind her as the conversation between her mom and Thunderlane grew in resonance and the two drew closer to one another. As she skirted around Rumble, she noted from the corner of her eye the blue pegasus, Cloudchaser, joining in on the conversation with a tight, strained smile. Wow, Mommy sure does have a lot of friends.

“So, every year,” Rumble began, cutting through her thoughts, “Thunder and me exchange gifts.” He tipped the box, the opening facing away from the familiar ponies. The cardboard side thunked against the tabletop and three objects tumbled out, rolling into Dinky’s sight.

“Well, um, t-that’s interesting,” she said while eyeing the trio of pastel ponies. The plastic figurines looked up to her with glossy eyes that reflected the lights on the ceiling above. Two of them were mares with very shapely bodies that wore thin armour while the third was a bulky brick of a stallion with a large sword clamped in his square jaw. “Um.... Dolls?”

Rumble laughed, the tittering sound coming from deep within his chest as he hopped off the table to grab at his belly. “Ah, Thunder told me not to show them to fillies. I guess this is why!” Still laughing, Rumble began to explain. “Not dolls; action figures. They’re from my favourite comics. Penitentiary and Ponies.”

Aren’t dolls and action figures the same thing? Dinky wondered as she tilted her head to one side and shifted her focus between the colt and the figurines, then back again. “Well, okay. I guess.”

Crossing his legs on the surface, Rumble leaned his head onto them. “It’s okay if you don’t get it. It’s something my brother and me share. It is a little weird, but we’re cool with ponies thinking of us that way. And it means something to us, you know?”

Dinky’s eyes lit up and for a moment, the colt’s easy smile cracked through her defences. “Yeah, I guess I sorta do. Mommy and I have our things, too. And I guess it could be worse. They could be girl toys.” They shared a smile, eye meeting eye before a blush creeped up her features and made her tear her attention away. “So, do you and Mister Thunderlane do this often?” she asked, more to gain time for herself than to actually know.

It was Rumble’s turn to shy away. “No, not really. Just once a year, at this time. We trade some gifts and then we eat something that tastes better than what we usually eat at home. It’s fun. And it keeps our minds off of other things.” Reaching up, the colt scratched at the nape of his neck. “So, should we go outside, or something?”

Dinky looked over her shoulder at her mother, who was still batting her eyebrows and sharing in a deep conversation with Thunderlane. Still, every so often she would glance around and glare at Cloudchaser when Thunderlane’s attention deviated. She does look happy, like she’s playing with some friends, Dinky thought. She won’t mind if I leave for a little bit. “Well, okay, I guess. Where did you want to go?”

“Just outside; get some fresh air.” He shrugged. “Talk a bit.”

“Oh... that sounds... um...”

“Just like friends. Yap away and complain about the weather.”

“All right.” Shuffling her hooves next to one another, Dinky began to turn around as Rumble shoved his figurines back into their box. Did he call me his friend? Is it that easy? I-I thought becoming somepony’s friend was hard. Hmm, maybe my previous theory on levels of friendship was correct. When the last toy thumped along the box’s bottom, Rumble sped to his table with the container and slid it onto his seat. I wonder how much Mommy and Thunderlane are friends?

“Come on,” he said as he trotted by with eager steps.

Without any fuss, Dinky fell in behind him, casting one last glance at her mother before the two foals crossed the maze of chairs and tables. The hubbub of clients talking and the different aromas of their meals washed over the young pair until they reached the entranceway. There, Rumble slid the door open and placed his hoof against the base of it, leaving the doorway wide open for Dinky. Like the gentlestallions in the novels she had read, Rumble gave her a curt bow as she slid past him.

Fresh evening air met Dinky as she walked out of Sugarcube Corner, filling the filly’s lungs with the cool scent of the town going to sleep.

Rumble was right beside her, close enough that his coat brushed against hers and sent a tingle-like jolt of electricity along her spine. “Hmm, maybe we could go over there?” he asked, pointing to the nearby patio with its round tables and many chairs. “You know, as long as we get fresh air and all that.”

Dinky hummed an okay and began walking after him, all the while stealing glimpses at her less-than-steady legs. It’s just Rumble. He’s a friend, so it’s normal to spend time with him. Why is it making me so nervous? I shouldn’t be afraid to speak or talk or laugh, right?

“Are you okay, Dinky?” he asked before slowing to a halt halfway to the tables. The last orange rays of the sun’s light fragmented across his grey coat, giving him the appearance of being made of molten gold. His brows furrowed in concern as he took a step to her. “You look out of it. Is something wrong?”

“N-no, not really. I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?” he asked again, moving in a little closer and into the bright rays of light. His coat radiating Celestia’s sun, Rumble looked into her eyes. “Thunderlane always said that a stallion should go out of his way to make sure that all mares are happy. And that means knowing why you’re not happy.”

“I-it’s okay, I’m goo—well. I’m well.”

“You don’t look ‘well.’” Rumble sighed and shifted his weight to one side, his face contorting into a half-grin. “If you want to talk about it, I’m here. That’s what friends do.”

“Friends?” Dinky blurted out before slapping a hoof over her mouth. “Um, I, well, I mean....” Oh, calm down, Dinky! she internally screamed as she bit her lip and squeezed herself into a tight ball. He’s my friend. He said so! We’re friends and we’re supposed to be comfortable. Right?

Then, why does he make me feel so different?

A soft hoof touched her on the shoulder, the same place where he had touched her when they first met so many days ago. “If you don’t want to talk, that’s fine too....” She felt, rather than heard, Rumble shifting until he was seated by her side.

Moments passed. Dinky felt an odd warmth radiating from the colt beside her that gently chased away the lukewarm grip that had taken hold of her that day. Like fine cider, Rumble’s presence warmed her belly and burned its way down her throat. “Things are going fast today,” she found herself saying. Her gaze was firmly planted on the spot where her hooves met the stone pavement.

“That happens, sometimes,” Rumble agreed. The colt took in a breath of air, his chest puffing out and making him seem so much bigger, so much stronger. “I remember the same thing happening a few years ago today.”

Dinky nodded, not quite understanding either what he had said or the undertone of sadness in his youthful voice, but agreeing nonetheless. Slowly, she lifted her eyes up and swallowed the world around her in a single gulp.

The streets of Ponyville stretched out from where she stood, rising and falling but remaining true and straight. The houses, already homey and comforting, were painted in the purples and reds of the sunset while the orange light of candle flames danced on curtains and window panes. The sky above was a kaleidoscope of mismatched clouds. Long, thin, fat and minuscule blotches of careless greys and vibrant cobalts formed a rough semicircle around the hazy outline that the sun left.

Contrasted against it all was Rumble. The lights played with his fur as if he was a canvas for the sunset. He turned to her and smiled. “It’s sorta pretty out tonight, huh?”

“Yes. It is,” she said. Then, after a short pause, she added, “Rumble?”

“Yeah?”

“Are we really friends?”

One of his eyebrows arched up. “Of course I’m your friend! Dinky, you’re one of my classmates. And we’re friendly enough. I mean, you’re really nice to me, a-and Thunderlane and your mom get along... so there’s that.”

“Oh, I guess we are friends then,” she said. That’s it? We’re friends now? That was so... easy! And this feeling. It’s so much better than being... with no friends. “I think I like having friends,” she declared.

Rumble laughed along with her and then he stood, preferring to trot over to the seats than spend time sitting on the cold pavement. When Dinky followed after him, he pulled a chair back for her and helped her into it before finding his own seat. “Having friends is a good thing, usually. I mean, things sure are more fun when we’re together, right?”

She nodded from her seat as she shifted about, making herself comfortable. “Do you know what friendship means?”

“I guess it means being together, liking somepony enough that you want to be with them. Part of their lives. Maybe you need to have some things that are the same as the others. An-and it’s feelings, like trusting that pony no matter what, and knowing that you can tell him or her the truth about anything and expecting the same from them.” Rumble grinned shyly at her, almost as if he were embarrassed. “Or something like that.”

Dinky grinned back and nodded, the cogs of her mind swirling about as knowledge became understanding. “Well, in that case, I really want to be your friend, too.”

Surprise registered on his features, but only for a brief moment before moving on. “Okay. I don’t think I ever agreed to be somepony’s friend before. It usually just sort of happens,” he said before adding a shrug.

He’s so... easy to be with. I have to ask Archer about things that friends do with each other and then do them with him. Exhaling an easy breath, Dinky leaned her hoof on the table and shared a long look with Rumble until the colt began to giggle for no apparent reason. “What’s wrong?” she asked, not alarmed in the least.

“I didn’t think my night would be like this. We were supposed to eat good, trade gifts, then go home. Now, I’m with a pretty young mare, outside, and far from home.”

Dinky’s heart infiltrated her ears at the sound of ‘pretty,’ thumping away with a deep, bass-filled beat that drowned everything out. A dozen maddening beats later, and the blood rushed out of her in a whooshing cascade that left her feeling light.

“S-so, y-you and Thunder—Mister Thunderlane trade gifts today?”

“Yup, this time, every year.”

Placing her forehooves over her chest, Dinky spied at Rumble through her eyelashes. “Well, I didn’t bring much, but I guess I could give you something...”

“Huh?” the colt said, an eyebrow rising up in a fashion that played tricks with her heart. “No, there’s no need for that. It’s just betwee—”

“No!” she said with more force and conviction than she had expected from herself. “Um, please, take this?” Closing her eyes, the filly set her horn aglow, knowing that the pink hue of her magic was washing across the world around them.

With delicate tugs, she pulled at the strings of her bow, undoing the knot with a graceful sweep as the material unfolded behind her.

Wide-eyed, Rumble watched the cloth circle the air before cascading around his neck to form a thin, silky scarf.

“Well, I-I hope you like it!” Dinky said as the luminosity above her head faded into obscurity. She watched attentively as Rumble pressed a hoof against the pliable material and stroked it.

“It’s, it’s really pretty,” the colt said, his joyous, youthful voice suddenly edged and rough. The bubbles printed on the yellow texture waved as his hooftip moved by. “Thank you, really.”

He’s happy. I made one of my friends be happy!Chuckling, Dinky mussed her mane to fix the stops where the bow had tapered it down, then she leaned back into her seat, letting out an easy breath as she did so.

The sun faded into obscurity as their conversation resumed, transitioning from half-baked gossip about Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon to an almost in-depth analyses of Miss Cheerilee and her teaching habits. In the end, when the two could see each other as vague outlines and sketches of ponies, Derpy stomped out of Sugarcube Corner, Cloudchaser hot on her heels.

“Why did you have to say that?” Cloudchaser hissed, a hundred droplets of spittle arched through the air to assault Derpy’s muzzle. “I didn’t want to humiliate you.”

“Humiliate me? You don’t know nothing.” Surging forward, Derpy poked the tip of her hoof into Cloudchaser’s puffed chest. “Just let go of my stud-muffin.”

Snarling like rabid animals, the two pegasi locked eyes and glared at one another. "Um, ladies," Thunderlane began, "is something wrong?

Cloudchaser’s scowl disappeared, replaced by a tittering laugh. “Oh, it’s nothing, Thunderlane.”

“We were just talking, about the weather,” Derpy added with a massive grin. “And we were noticing how very... night-ish it was?”

“Yeah, and commenting on how Derpy’s here,” Cloudchaser grabbed Derpy in a wing-hug, one that looked awfully tight to Dinky. “Was just saying that she was going to head off to home. She’s got a little filly that has school tomorrow and all.”

Thunderlane scratched the nape of his neck, just like Rumble had done earlier and plastered his easy smile back on. The two mares bit their lips as the stallion beamed at them. “Ah, that’s too bad. But I guess it’s just part of being a mom, huh? Actually, we should probably get going, too. Rumble’s got class in the morning, and he’s probably already hyped up on Miss Pie’s cakes.” The two mares shuffled from side to side, Cloudchaser finally loosening her grip on Derpy.

Dinky turned to Rumble, a wistful smile on her face as she ran the day’s events by in a glimmer that soon faded away into a dull throb of hope. “It was... fun,” she whispered to Rumble.

The colt nodded in the darkness. “Yeah. Thanks for the bow... scarf thing. It’s cool.” He slipped out of his seat and helped her out of her own. “Will I see you at school tomorrow?”

“Well, I hope so,” she truthfully said.

As they approached the trio of adults, they saw Derpy Hooves splitting off and heading to them. Behind her, Cloudchaser was staring up to Thunderlane with her tail twitching, like a cat enamoured by a laser pointer. “So, Thunderlane,” she said. “Do you want to walk me home...? Protect me from criminals and stuff?”

The stallion seemed to consider it for a moment, then pointed to a nearby cloud. “Don’t you live right there? And isn’t Flitter with you?”

“Oh, yeah.... Want me to walk you home?” she asked, her tail’s twitch missing a beat. “I could... protect you from criminals and stuff.”

“N-no, it’s okay Miss Chaser. We live far across town. I, uh, appreciate the offer, though.” Turning to his brother, Thunderlane reached out and ruffled Rumble’s mane. “Come on, we’ll get our things and head home before Miss Pie gets tired of seeing us.”

The doors to the Sugarcube Corner closed with a gentle thump, locking the night from the welcoming store and leaving those outside to think in the darkness. “You know, this would had been perfect if you weren’t here,” Cloudchaser said, not with venom, but with the pouting discontent of a child left unsatisfied.

“Well,” Derpy replied with the prim and proper tone of a high-class mare. “We were doing fine until you showed up. Come, Dinky. We’re going home.” The filly watched as the two mares separated, sparks clashing in the air between them until Derpy strolled to her daughter’s side and nudged her with a wing-tip. Dinky spun about and trotted along at her mother’s side, stealing a last glance over her shoulder to the shop where her new friend was hiding.

The pair walked through Ponyville in the general direction of their home, Derpy’s tense shoulders slumping little by little with every step she took away from the restaurant. Dinky sighed contentedly, basking in the low tide of happiness that the night had given her. She had made another friend. Two. Soon, everypony was going to be her friend. But she wondered if there was more to friendship.

Her mother’s anger dissipated and her ears drooped, hanging on either side of her head like a comical pair of wet leaves. “Dinky,” she whispered in a voice that was too hoarse tobe her mother’s. “Don’t ever fall in love, my little muffin. Love can be very, very painful, and I don’t want to see you get hurt, okay?”

Dinky blinked at her mother, sensing the gloom building around the mare’s heart. “But, Mommy. What is love?”

Derpy reeled away, a tiny blush appearing on her cheeks as she was taken aback. “I-it’s when two ponies come together and share. They become close and stuff. Like how me and you are, my muffin. I love you a lot, so I’d do all sorts of things to make you be happy. I’d even hurt you for your own good. But it’s more than that.” The mare looked to their house as it coasted into sight around the bend, a hovel squatted on a lonely hill.

“It’s wanting to be close to that pony, and wanting to share smiles and laughter and to make each other happy. You always have fun with somepony that you love, almost.”

“Oh, okay.” Have fun with them? I have some fun with Archer, she thought while the dull throb returned in full force. And I had a lot of fun with Rumble. I want to be close to him, and we did share things. Does that mean that I’m in love?

Edited by:
https://docs.google.com/document/d/1_86hYr6EtqRWFU1X8MfKsb66trHI0o75NmvkWHdKoRI/edit?usp=drive_web]The Misfits

Author's Note

We have gnarly pictures now! Courtesy of Gurumane!

(And by 'curtesy' we mean the knife at his throat was rather dull on the edges)

Hearts Break Easy and Bows Go Twang

Miss Cheerilee hummed a toneless tune as she marched between the rows of chairs, her tail twitching from one side to the other. The teacher stopped at each desk, dropped the pile of tests she was carrying, sorted through it and finally left the appropriate one on the desk of the terrified student. It was a simple process that the teacher had taken to repeating each and every Friday.

Dinky loved it.

At the little filly’s side, her friend, Archer, was fidgeting in her seat. Nervous hooves played along the edge of her desk, then reached up to touch her sweaty blue brow before lowering again.

“Are you okay?” Dinky asked, leaning over to the side so that her whisper wouldn’t be overheard. It was a trick that the pony she was talking to had taught her.

“Huh?” Archer blinked. “Oh, yeah, I’m fine,” she said as she straightened herself out and tried to relax. Half a second later, she was back to her fiddling.

Pulling back to her seat and glancing over the restless class, Dinky muttered under her breath with a saddened sigh, “You don’t look fine.”

It was a muffled curse from Archer that drew Dinky back. “Okay, so I’m not fine,” the pegasus admitted. She pointed to the students ahead as if they were on display. “Look at ‘em, will ya, Dinks.”

The unicorn peered at her fellow students, noting the sea of bent backs and nervous twitches that many of them seemed to be suffering from. Others, those that she thought of as intellectual equals and rivals, were simply waiting patiently. At the front, both Silver Spoon and Diamond Tiara were sweating bullets over their tests, as if staring hard enough could change their grades to something a little higher.

“I don’t get it, what’s wrong?”

“What’s wrong? Dinks, if I fail I’m doomed!” Archer’s hushed voice echoed across the quiet room, catching the attention of the overly-happy Miss Cheerilee, who smiled her way. Archer swallowed hard.

Dinky furrowed her brow and blinked fast. “Oh no, you can’t be serious. And, well, it’s just one test, and I’m sure that you did great, Archer. You’re much smarter than I am, so I’d imagine that you’re way better then most of the class.”

Her friend took in a deep breath and averted her gaze. “Yeah, whatever.”

Aww, that’s terrible, Dinky thought to herself as she began tracing a circle over her binders.Archer’s a really nice pony, and she’s my friend; she shouldn’t fail on just one silly little test! I mean, it wasn’t even that hard of a test. That bonus question on flight aerodynamics was totally answered in the fine print of page eighteen of our books. Miss Cheerilee won’t let her fail either, she’s a nice teacher!

The said teacher reached the far back of the classroom where Dinky awaited her with a resplendent smile that she answered with a noncommittal grunt. “Here,” Miss Cheerilee muttered before placing the two remaining tests on each desk. “Good work, Dinky,” she said with all the enthusiasm of a mare facing a death squad.

“Thank you, Miss Cheerilee!” Dinky replied, voice ringing like the sweet toll of a chime.

Grasping the piece of looseleaf in both hooves, Dinky read the top of the sheet where, in a clear red pen, the teacher had left her score. “Oh, sweet peas! I got 99 again!” Dinky exclaimed before turning her widened eyes to Archer.

The filly heaved a sigh of relief, her entire body deflating into her seat and sinking down until her eyes were just level with the desk’s edge. She let go of her test and let it flutter onto the table top, its surface rippling under her escaped breath.

Curiosity getting the better of her, Dinky focused on the sheet and, with the barest of efforts, levitated it over the chasm that separated them until the page floated centimetres from her muzzle. It smelt faintly of sweat and dreams-on-edge.

Oh-uh, that’s really, really not good. Dinky bit her lower lip and scrolled down the page with her eyes, wincing in sympathy at some of the answers scrawled there. “Archer, um, you did, really really okay,” she said as she hoofed the test over.

Reaching out, Archer snatched it with a wing-tip and beamed. “I know! A whole sixty-five percent. That’s like, way more than last time!”

Dinky choked down a gasp and forced on a smile. “Well, that’s good. But, did you really think that the state where particles show the least movement is Canterlot?”

Archer shrugged. “Yeah, but I’m guessing that was wrong or something, right?”

“Well... yeah? Archer, why were you so nervous? I mean... why were you so close to, you know...”

“Failing?” Archer filled in the empty space. “I dunno, I guess I should have studied more or something. Bah, I passed this time and will probably pass the next too, right? Mom won’t be too mad and I won’t be stopped from going to the competition.”

“Not go to the competition?” Dinky almost jumped out of her seat. “Archer! Are you insinuating that your mother won’t allow you to go to the regional archery competition if your grades are too low?”

One of Archer’s brows perked up. “I ain’t insulating anything. Just that if I don’t pass, mom won’t let me go is all.” With a huff, the filly pouted and turned her attention to the window opposite Dinky, staring blankly at the world outside.

“Archer, that’s terrible. You’ve been talking my ear off—not that I mind—about that event for weeks. You can’t just abandon it because of failed school work.... How much time do you spend studying?”

“Um, none?”

Dinky’s cry of astonishment and shock was cut off as Miss Cheerilee stationed herself at the fore of the classroom and gave a little cough. Once the class’ attention had shifted, the mare began her practiced recital of subtle hints of failure and warnings disguised as encouragement.

“That was a great test. Some of you—few as you were—did excellent on it; the rest were okay. Fewer of you failed this time... although it was an easier exam, to be honest.”

The guilty shifting-in-one’s-seat lasted for a few moments under the teacher’s cheerful gaze before class resumed as normal. Homework for the following morning was dished out at a leisurely pace, as if the teacher had an ample supply to rid herself of; lessons were talked about, but hardly touched; and the students were kept in strict regimens of mindless drudgery.

Then, finally, Miss Cheerilee passed down a series of papers and mumbled something about working in pairs if they so chose, as long as the work got done. Immediately, Dinky scoured the classroom, her bright eyes snapping onto the back of Rumble’s head as the colt smiled at those around him, and laughing with the suave tone of comfort.

Oh, I’d love to work with him! she thought until a blue smudge at the edge of her vision pulled her back. Oh, but Archer needs me more, right? And a friend in need is a friend indeed.

Without sharing a single word, the two fillies moved their desks together until the desks thumped on each other and formed a single surface. Dinky and Archer slid their sheets over and pressed the edges together as they both gathered their pens. “Thanks, Dinky,” Archer said as she leaned over the page.

“Um, no problem? I really like working with you and all....”

“No, not that. Thanks for helping me. You’re right, I should study more and stuff... but it’s really boring. I don’t know how you do it all the time.”

“Oh. Well, maybe I could help you? That’s what friends are for, right?” Dinky asked, her heartwarming to a healthy glow as Archer smiled at her. “And I love studying, so maybe I could impart some of that to you? We could do this work, and maybe read the manuals for next year. Oh! And after class, we could ask Miss Cheerilee for extra homework! She just loves giving me some. Last time, I got to do her income taxes.”

Archer’s smile slowly dropped, forming a crude and disgusted grimace. “How ‘bout we start a little... easier. You don’t fire a bow until you know which end of the arrow goes squick.”

Dinky extended her hoof, and Archer promptly bumped it, sealing the deal. “All right,” the pegasus said. “You teach me after school a bit. But in exchange I’ll help you with something.”

“Well, I don’t really need help with anything. I’m just happy having a good friend by my side.” Dinky looked down at their sheets, mentally beginning to play with the numbers scrawled across it.

“Horseapples.” Archer thumped Dinky’s shoulder. “If you don’t do this sorta thing, you’ll be used by everypony. Now, ya don’t have to give me something now-now, but when you’re ready I’ll return the favour. And no ‘buts!’”

With a firm nod, the unicorn agreed and went back to work. Time moved on at a mixed pace for the two fillies, one thoroughly enjoying the discussion on simple mathematics with her friend, the other scrambling to understand the concepts behind the answers.

Finally, they reached the end of the page, both letting out a smooth, satisfied sigh as they leaned back and looked across the classroom.

Dinky found herself staring at the back of Rumble’s head. The colt was tackling one of the final questions with another filly, a bright yellow earth pony called Sunny Days. The colt laughed at a whispered joke from the filly, sending a wave of remorse and jealousy through Dinky.

She averted her gaze, but not before Archer connected the dots. “Hey, Dinky, don’t tell me that you... like Rumble, eh?” the filly asked in a conspiratorial whisper as she leaned in.

“Well, I do like him, he’s a nice colt and he treated me with a lot of respect. And he’s a friend.”

“Sure he is,” she replied, sarcasm dripping. “Come on Dinky, you can tell me.”

The unicorn shied away, turning her face to the far end of the class as a deep sheath of crimson trailed across her features. Do I truthfully like him? What Mommy said seems to confirm that what I feel for Rumble is love, but I’ve hardly finished grasping friendship yet. But he is cute, and nice, and nice.

“Well, I guess I like him, sorta. He’s never been anything but kind to me, and he’s sorta really cute, right?” Her blush rose in intensity, rivaling that of unshielded molten lava.

Her friend nodded wisely. “So I found what I can help you with, and it hardly took a minute. All right, by the day’s end, you’ll be going on a date with Rumble.”

“What?!” Dinky shrieked.

Every head spun around and stared wide-eyed at her as she sank into her chair and tried to disappear. Worse yet was Rumble when he gave her a concerned flash of teeth then returned to devoting his attention to Sunny Days.

“What’cha lookin’ at?” Archer growled at the nearest students, prompting them to turn around and get back to work, or else. The filly reached out and placed a hoof near Dinky. “What’s wrong?”

“That’s far too rapid. Your plan, I mean. We-we just met, and we’re sort of young for that sort of thing. And my Mommy would never approve.”

“Okay, okay. But you need to do something. I’ll coach you a little,” Archer offered.

“Well, what do you know about love?” Dinky asked.

She shrugged. “Cupid uses a bow, I use a bow. We’re all set.”

“That doesn’t sound very convincing.”

“Trust me, Dinky, I’m your friend and I want the best for ya.”

Dinky played with the finished sheet of work, going over the questions one last time. “Fine, you can help me, a little.” What am I doing? This is so bizarre, using a friend to make another friend. And I’m not sure that I like-like Rumble. Do I? She bit her lip and forced down a sigh. Well, I guess it couldn’t hurt to try. But I’ll have to get some books on what dating entails.

“Perfect! The first step will be to make him want to talk to you some more. Become his friend. After class, you’re going to talk to little mister lucky colt.”

The roles had reversed. Now, Dinky spent the entire afternoon session fumbling around her work, sweating, and developing a few new nervous ticks, one of which was to look over to see what Rumble was doing, desperately hoping that she could catch his eye while shivering in fear that he might do so.

Class ended too slowly, but when Miss Cheerilee announced to all that they could head home, a swift, cool wind of pleasure ran through the class, wiping away the grimy tiredness that had overtaken the students, and giving them a boost of energy.

Archer and Dinky packed their things, placing them in their saddlebags as the class filled with a sea of prattling chit-chat.

As the other fillies and foals crashed out of the room, Archer approached Dinky and whispered into her ear, “Okay, here’s the plan: We head outside, find Rumble and strike up a conversation with him. We can invite him over to my place and the three of us can have fun all day. He’ll see that you’re awesome and totally fall for you.”

“Your plan sounds a little convoluted. And I can see some holes in it,” Dinky said.

“Aww, c’mon, just trust me.” She bumped her hip into Dinky’s and winked. “What’s the worse that could happen?”

“Well, not much, I guess.”

The two fillies walked to the front of the class, the thumping of their hooves on the schoolhouse’s floor hardly audible over the hubbub of students leaving. Archer began to talk, in a sing-songy voice, about all the ways that a young filly could woo a colt, much to the embarrassment of Dinky as a few of her classmates gave the two some odd glances.

Accelerating a little, Dinky made it out the front door right before Archer and was greeted by the soothing warmth of the sun. The light dazzled her and the heat seemed to seep through her coat, jolting it back to life.

Taking a deep breath through her nostrils, the young unicorn began descending the steps, eager to find Rumble and begin her experiment, despite, perhaps, the ball in the pit of her stomach.

“There he is, go get hi—” Archer began, her words choking off mid-sentence.

In the grove of trees near the school was Rumble, his long tail entwined with Sunny Days as the two foals stared into each other’s eyes. Slowly, as if time had no import, they came closer, the filly giving out a nervous giggle that struck Dinky’s ears. They pecked, Rumble’s lips grazing the edge of the filly’s face before he pulled back and looked away, his skin turning red by his blush.

No, that can’t be! Dinky’s mind screamed, trying to push the image away. But even after blinking a multitude of times, Rumble was still there, embracing Sunny Days in his quiet, gentlestallion-like way. The information edged out of the realm of deniability and into that of fact, shattering her heart as it did so.

The filly shook from tail to hoof as she sat down, hard, on the soil around the schoolhouse. Her insides felt as if they were being spun about, like a cruel pony had jammed a screwdriver into her chest and twisted it, tearing and ripping asunder the things that made her whole.

Why is this hurting so much? she wondered, the vestiges of her logical mind trying to grasp at the brute emotions.It shouldn’t hurt, we’re just friends, I didn’t actually lose anything, did I?

Still, her eyes watered and a wracking sob tore through her body, only barely cocealed as Archer spread a wing over her and began glaring at any and every pony nearby. “Come on, Dinky,” she said, her hoarse voice somehow turned into a smooth balm. “Let’s go. There’s a place and time for these sort of things; this isn’t it.”

Grabbing the blank-faced Dinky by the shoulders, Archer lifted her friend onto her own hooves and led Dinky towards town. As the image of Rumble’s romantic ventures faded behind her, Dinky began to regain her senses, a new blush spreading across her features.

“I’m so silly,” she lamented. Her voice was hardly audible over the whisking of their hooves over grass.

“You’re not silly at all, Dinky. In fact, you’re like, the smartest pony in the whole school. Sure, you’re not that great with the whole ‘talking to other ponies’ thing... but that doesn’t make you any less good.”

The swaying of trees and the gentle laughter of foals left them as they entered Ponyville and began walking along the edge of the main roads. Dinky, her head down, paid no heed to where she was being led. That particular part of her mind was busy plotting out another course.

“Thanks, Archer,” she finally said before raising her head and looking about.

Pastel-coloured houses and gaily decorated fronts met her eyes all about. The bright afternoon sun was beaming down on the residential block.

“No problem. Dinky, you ought to have figured this one out already, but we’re friends. That means that we’ll always stick together, no matter what.” Again, she nudged Dinky with a playful tap of her wing. “Even through lovesickness, or whatever that was....”

Smiling but averting her gaze to the cleanly swept sidewalk, Dinky said, “I don’t know what that was. It’s not exactly a... well, logical action. I’m sorry?”

“Let’s head inside for a bit, get your mind off of silly colts and onto cooler things. Like firing weapons without adult supervision.” Archer stopped and pointed over her shoulder. Right behind her was her familiar home of white and blue, two stories jutting out of the ground at a right angle.

The front door gave to a quick twist of its ornate handle and Archer pushed it open with a butt of her forehead. Dinky followed, her back straight and her body at ease as she felt the gust of cool air escaping the home envelop her and move on. Archer tilted her head to the kitchen and mumbled a disharmonious of accord, asking Dinky to lead the way into the room.

Nothing had changed since she had last been there. The fridge hummed a working tune and the countertops shone with an aura of cleanliness, accented by the faint smells of orangey cleaning products. “The cleaning pony must’ve passed,” Archer commented as she tossed her saddlebags onto the granite countertop and trotted to the fridge.

She returned with a pitcher of juice. “Mom doesn’t like cleaning and Dad just can’t—he makes more of a mess if he tries. Anyhow, she’s never really here, so they hired a nice lady to pick and clean.” A tint of purple appeared on the pegasus’ cheeks before she spun around and left to retrieve some cups.

“Oh, you’re lucky. We spend a lot of time cleaning at home. And it still looks like a mess in the end. Mommy’s not the clean sort, I guess,” Dinky commented as she raised the pitcher with a bit of her magic and poured them two glasses.

“Yeah, that must suck, spending so much time with your mom like that.” She grabbed one of the cups and began sipping at it. “Tell ya what!” She suddenly perked. “How about I finish showing you my bows? Last time your mom sorta interrupted and I didn’t get a chance to show off.”

Shouldn’t we do our homework first? Although, to be perfectly honest, I’m in no mood to do that either.

“Is this part of the ‘fun’ you promised you would teach me? Because playing before our work is complete seems rather, well, immature.” She played with the rim of her still-full glass then looked around the immaculate room once more. Something was off about it and she could not quite put her hoof on what.

“Dinky, I won’t even pretend to know what him-manure is, but I do know that fun is an important part of... fun-ness and that maximum levels of fun should be had all the time. Come on, let’s go have some fun right now.” She hopped off the table, abandoning the pitcher and her cup on the counter as she headed to the back door.

Dinky levitated the half-full container over and, with a bit of mindwork, opened the fridge to place it within. “Wait, Archer!”

“What’s up?” the filly asked from the entranceway, a brow arching up her forehead.

“Well, after we’re done playing, will we work a little? I mean, you don’t want to have your bows confiscated because of low grades, right?” She stepped back from the table and made her way around it, her horn skimming by the surface like the fin of a shark.

With a roll of her eyes, Archer replied, “Yeah, sure. After we play,” before turning around and prancing outside.

Dinky, only a few steps behind, paused before exiting the home, taking the time to give the room one last glance. Finally, she found what was wrong with it. There was no life. Only an empty shell. Plenty of clean things, but no pictures and no little decorations. Just clean counters and spotless floors.

Suppressing a shudder, Dinky trotted out of the house, welcoming the fresh, pre-evening air as it filled her lungs. Her friend was already halfway to the back shed, her wings stretching out on either side to catch the sun’s light, turning both of them into indistinct aquamarine forms made of a thousand feathers. “It’s perfect for shooting today,” she called out. “No wind or anything, and the sun’s above us, so we won’t be blinded.” She folded her wings back in, ending the illusion.

The shed’s door creaked melancholically, as if it objected to being prised open by the filly. Arriving by the entrance, Dinky caught a whiff of oils and wood as the odour of Archer’s shed poured out. A beam of light slashed through the room, marked by the shadows of two fillies that became long, indistinct forms on the wooden floor. All else was hidden in the darkness until Archer flicked a switch with her wing-tip.

As the light bulb buzzed to life, the room came alive, light glinting off of sharpened arrowheads and the waxed surface of a dozen bows. Every usable surface was covered in cloths and tools and coils of wire; even the occasional, though rare, book was present, all dealing with archery.

The shed was a real home, Dinky concluded.

“Here, this one ought to do,” Archer said as she trotted along the row of hung bows and stopped at one of them. Rearing up, she grabbed the would-be weapon with a gentle clasp of her teeth and pulled it off the rack. “Ish a ghood one.”

She walked by Dinky, drool slipping out of the side of her mouth as she gave her friend a lopsided grin, tilting her head so as to pass by the filly. “Come hon. Oh, and hrab shome harrosh!”

A moment later, the two found themselves a dozen paces from the shed’s side, a pile of blunt-tipped arrows at their hooves, and a long yew bow strung and ready to fire held by Archer’s wings. “All right. So, this took me a little while to learn, but I’m sure you’ll catch on right-quick. Being the world’s best archer means that it’s super easy for me to impart my mad skills on my lowly students.”

“Well, okay?” Dinky said as she eyed the long piece of curved wood. Reservations about the whole thing started to build up within her, but she quelled them with a deep swallow and a tiny huff.

“‘Kay, first, you need to nock an arrow. To do that you grab the bit with the fletching and place it against the nocking point on the string.” With a surprisingly dextrous usage of her wingtips, Archer pulled up the bow then slid an arrow on, as she had instructed. “The next bit’s the hard one. You need to stand up and press a forehoof against the shaft and another on the length of the string. I use my wings to keep me standing, like this.”

She stood, her entire body erect in front of Dinky. The bow had become part of her, a long slice of wood extending vertically in front of the pony, bent back and tense under the strain she applied with an almost gentle pull. Her mane dropped out and covered her shoulders, a helm that fluctuated and moved with every soothing breath she took. Her wings, both fanned out behind her for stability, moved with ethereal slowness, as if they had a calm life of their own along the filly’s back.

“Then, you draw, and fire,” she whispered.

With a slicing sound, the arrow left its place along the string and zipped through the air, smashing into the dead centre of the bull’s eye painted on the shed’s side with a dull thud.

They looked at the shaft as it quivered in place, both of them exhaling a sigh at the same time. Dinky spoke first. “That was incredible, Archer! Do you really think that I could do that?”

Dropping back down to all fours, Archer shrugged. “Don’t know, but I’m sure that I can give you a good head start.” With an almost timid push of her hoof, Archer moved the bow over to Dinky. “Here, just hold it up like I showed you.”

“B-but you used your wings to keep balance... I don’t think I could do that....”

“Just, use your magic, or something.”

“Well, all right. Let’s try this.” With a little bit of reservation, Dinky picked up the bow, fumbling around with it until she had it in a firm enough grip. Then, she reared up onto her hind legs, wobbling to and fro, before she let out a burst of stabilizing magic that held her anchored to the spot.

Archer beamed at her, eyes shining and reflecting the purple-ish glow of Dinky’s magic. “You’re doing great,” she said as she hoofed up an arrow.

Dinky took the piece of wood and, with much biting of the tip of her tongue and squinting, managed to nock the arrow while only dropping it twice. “Okay, so, how do I aim this thing?” she asked.

“Never mind that. Just point it towards the centre of the shed. At this range you’ll have a hard time missing it. Now, pull back on the string until you feel the wood starting to bend. When you feel that it’s just the right amount of pressure, let go. It’s that easy.”

Uh-huh. Easy, sure. She pulled back on the string, the muscles in her forehoof twitching and spasming as they worked in unfamiliar ways. Taking a breath and closing one eye, Dinky tried to aim the length of the arrow towards the bull’s eye. She let go.

With a sound akin to a drop hitting water, the arrow plopped out of the bow and fell to the ground, not three paces from where Dinky stood. Its feathers shook, as if taunting Dinky.

A few seconds passed as the two stared at the offensive object jutting out of the ground.

“Wow, that was terrible!” Archer exclaimed, a slow smile cracking along her face.

“Well, maybe you’re not all that good a teacher then?” Dinky snapped back, a smile of her own forming.

“Hey!” she retorted in mock indignation. “Even I didn’t get it the first time around. Still wasn’t as bad as you are now. Let me show you how it’s done one last time....”

Dinky trotted home, alone and tired to the bone. The sun had passed its zenith a few moments before, and was now beginning to plunge to the horizon, illuminating the path home on a warm, orange glow.

The colour matched her well, she concluded. With a deep sigh, Dinky basked in the glow that radiated within her; not powerful as it once was, but recuperating. She didn’t need love when she had friendship. Maybe, just maybe, friendship was a form of love unto itself.

The road home was short, and the weight of her saddlebag was hardly noticed by the skipping filly as she hopped from one grassy patch to another. In moments she was close enough to home to catch the faint whiffs of her mother’s cooking. Oh, we’re going to eat wheatloaf muffins again! she thought with relish, inadvertently licking her lips.

Speeding herself along, the filly reached the front door and practically exploded into the household, narrowly avoiding a few discarded pieces of clothing and trash that had found their way to the floor. “Hi, Mommy!”

From the kitchen came the banging and thumping of pots and pans as they moved about. A grey head poked out from above the counter, one eye narrowing on the filly while the other left staring at the mess that covered the entire room. “Hello, my honey muffin. Did you have a good day at school? Mommy’s making your favourite!”

With little ceremony, Dinky picked her backpack off of her back and flung it past the still-open door of her room. It landed on the bed with an omph like that of a teacher finding out that her tax reports were covered in smilie faces.

“I had an okay day in school,” Dinky said as she rushed over to the kitchen. “But I had a lot more fun after school with Archer!”

“Oh, and what did you two do?” The pegasus took a few moments to stare down at her child, the barest hint of a scowl appearing across her forehead. “Nothing bad, right?”

“Well, no, nothing bad... yet.”I couldn’t possibly tell her about the bow and arrow thing, she’ll never let me see Archer again. “And, um, we did our homework together. Archer wants to have better grades so I encouraged her to study.”

Humming to herself and nodding sagely, Derpy grabbed two mismatched plates from a cupboard and placed them on the tabletop. “That’s nice. Oh, you got some mail today! I delivered it myself.”

Dinky’s ears perked up, and she followed her mother’s pointed directions to the table where a single, white letter sat untouched. Rushing over to it, she lifted the envelope with a twirl of her magic and held it out in front of her, reading the clumsy print of her name and address on the cover.

“I’ll be in my room!” she called over her shoulder, the letter floating at her side as she made her way out of the kitchen.

“Supper’s in ten, my muffin. If I have to call you twice you’re not eating,” Derpy said, the mock threat prying another smile out of her daughter.

Trotting across her room and deftly avoiding the seemingly random piles of clothing and school work, she reached her bed and hopped up onto it. Twisting around until she was on her back and the letter was floating above her, Dinky bit her lip and began to peel it apart. “Oh, I really do hope it’s something good, right Leonore?” At her side, the beaten and raw plushie of a raven flopped onto its side and stared at her with its last remaining button-eye.

“Right, let’s open it up and find out, shall we?”

Biting down on her tongue as if that would help in any way, Dinky frowned at the hastily licked-together edge of the letter, and tore it apart with quasi-reckless abandon. Out came a sheet of slightly crumpled paper that she unfolded. On it was written:

Dear Dinky,

I just wanted to invite you over to a little party that were going to have at my place this weekend its going to be tons of fun and stuff hope you can come.

Hope to see you there,
—Rumble

Slowly and ever so carefully, Dinky lowered the letter onto the soft surface of her bed. She stared at it, blinking only when her eyes began to sting before, with an outstretched hoof, she grabbed her precious plushie and hugged it tight.

Her mother called, but the filly had long since lost her appetite.

Author's Note

Edited by:
https://docs.google.com/document/d/1_86hYr6EtqRWFU1X8MfKsb66trHI0o75NmvkWHdKoRI/edit?usp=drive_web]The Misfits

Tree

Dinky trotted along the well-worn path that led around town, kicking up a flurry of dust behind her as she avoided any and all ponies she saw. Clamped in her mouth was a note scribbled from top to bottom in the almost illegible writing of her mother. It was a grocery list.

The town’s market wasn’t far off, the filly knew, but it was rather busy with Saturday morning traffic, mares and stallions walking about with full baskets and their heads full of gossip. It was a rather peaceful day, at least beyond the filly’s head. Aww, what am I going to do?

One the one hoof, she began to reason as her journey continuing unhindered, I really, really like Rumble, I think. But on the other hoof, I might hurt myself if I go there, and I think I like him, but I... I don’t know. And well, on the other hoof I’m not sure if I’m ready for love. And on the last hoof, love sounds really, really fun.

She trotted into the market, pushing her woes to the back of her mind as she immersed herself in the jostling and moving crowd, her ears drooping against the stomping of hooves and the cacophony of voices trading and haggling and just plain talking to one another.

She grit her teeth, released the paper, and floated it up until it stopped in front of her face; she blinked as she examined the list. The first item was a ‘buncha carrots’. Carrot muffins, again? Sighing once more, Dinky searched past the crowd and found a stall with a carrot motif attended by an orange mare with a carrot cutie mark. “Hi, Miss Carrot Top.”

“Ah, hello,Dinky,” Carrot Top said as she leaned over the counter and stared down at the filly. “You here for your mommy?”

“Well, yeah, I guess. She gave me a list and it’s in alphabetical order, sorta. Carrots are at the top....”

“Perfect!” the mare exclaimed, trading with Dinky a dazzling smile as she tossed some of her precious veggies into a sack and hoofed them over.

Dinky, after a moment of consulting a nearby price-chart, levitated a few bits from her saddlebags and paid up. “Thanks, Miss Carrot Top!” she called over her shoulder as she crossed off the item from the list and rushed to the next stall.

“Dinky!” a filly called out, the voice ringing across the marketplace until it was absorbed by the good cheer. The filly looked around her, blinking at the mares and stallions that seemed to be paying her no attention at all. Then Archer crashed into her, from above.

The two fillies found themselves tangled in a pile of legs and tails and manes while Archer laughed until she coughed and tried to pry herself off of Dinky’s back. “Oh, sorry?” she offered as she finally rolled off and then tried to help Dinky back to her feet with a tentative push of her wings. “How’re you doing?”

“Well, I was doing fine...” Dinky said, flashing a glare Archer’s way. The mean look soon turned into a reluctant smile. “How are you, Archer?”

“I’m awesome! Hey, what were you doing just now?” she asked in a rush, her wide eyes scanning the carrots poking out of Dinky’s slightly crushed saddlebags.

Dinky followed her friend’s gaze. “Oh, well, Mommy sent me out to pick up a few things today. I was just going to get the rest of the things on this.” Frowning in focus, Dinky lifted her list and floated it in Archer’s view. “But that shouldn’t take too long, I hope.”

“Sweet, ‘cause when you’re done, maybe we could head back over to my place?” the blue pegasus asked as she turned to walk at Dinky’s side as she made her way to the celery stall.

“I don’t know, Archer. I don’t feel so good.” Dinky jerked her gaze away from Archer, wincing as the sting of having lied to her friend came to bite her. It’s not a real lie, she reasoned, only a half-lie. I don’t feel that good, but I could still go with her, and stuff.

“Oh, but you’re going to feel better tomorrow, right? ‘Cause tomorrow’s a super important day!”

The day of Rumble’s party?

“Tomorrow, I, Archer, will compete in the first of the regional archery championships! You have to come.” Archer slapped Dinky’s back, sending the filly reeling.

“B-but tomorrow I-I have....”

Archer’s gigantic smile began to falter and for the first time that day, Dinky really looked at her friend’s face.

Wrinkles stained the edges of Archer’s eyes, eyes that were bloodshot on the fringe and seemed to twitch about frantically. Her mane was loose and ratty, as if she hadn't bothered brushing it in days. “Archer, are you okay?”

“Of course I am!” the filly lied to Dinky’s face, her eyes shutting as she turned. “I’m awesome, I told ya.”

Dinky stuffed her list away and stomped towards Archer, eyes firmly fixed on her friend’s face. “Don’t lie to me, Archer. Friends don’t lie to each other, I read about that in a book. So, so you tell me what’s wrong, right now. Please?”

The pegasus sighed and grumbled under her breath for a moment. “Fine, but not right now. There’s... there’s something I want to get first. I’ll be heading home, but don’t go too far, I’ll be back in a sec.” She bent her knees, grit her teeth and shot up into the air like a spring before her wings popped open and she hovered out of view.

Dinky followed her friend’s trajectory away from the marketplace and into the cerulean blue sky before she arched an eyebrow and shrugged. “Okay, back to shopping, I guess.”

Returning to the stalls, Dinky bought a small bag of flour, some precious chocolate chips and was negotiating down price of a jar of maple syrup when she noticed a grey form moving three stalls down.

Her heart missed a beat and what little blood she seemed to had rushed to her face. “Miss?” the stallion at the stall asked. “I’m sorry, but you don’t look so good, eh? Need help?”

“I-I-I, well. I’ll take it,” she said, hopping onto the wooden counter and grabbing the jar all the while levitating and dropping a few coins too many into the stallion’s hoof.

He blinked at her as she darted away and counted the coins. “What was that about?”

Dinky squeezed her way past the next few ponies and found a nook in which she could hide, partially shaded from the bright sun by the shadow of a canvas-topped pavillion. What’s with me? I’m not even sure if that was Rumble. And he’s just my friend, I shouldn’t be afraid of him, right? Oh, what if he laughs at me for doing groceries?

A hoof touched her flank.

She screamed, a wailing, piercing sound that made her throat hoarse in a split second as it sliced through the air. Dinky spun around, still wide-eyed and screaming, to face her aggressor.

Rumble was behind her, his wings ramrod straight as he too screamed and stared back.

They both stopped, their shouts replaced by silent workings of their jaws. “Huh,” they both said.

“Um, hey, Dinky. Sorry about that?” Rumble said as he scratched the nape of his neck and switched his apologetic gaze from her to the congregated ponies that had rushed to see what was happening. The crowd began to disperse with rolled eyes and murmurs of vexation.

“Well, no, it’s okay,” Dinky said, her voice growing softer and softer as her focus turned to the dirt below.

“So, I saw you and all that, and, uh, just wanted to say hi, you know?” he offered, smiling tentatively at her.

“Well, um, hi? How are you?” Dinky offered.

Rumble shifted his weight from hoof to hoof. “Oh, me? I’m doing great. Gonna go play with some friends later, and Sunny Days too.... So, um, are you coming to the party tomorrow? It’s not a birthday or anything, so you don’t have to bring nothing. Just yourself and I’ll be happy.”

She tried to hide her blush by sinking deeper into the shadows. He’s going to see her again, isn’t he? Aww, it’s not fair! I don’t want to not like her, she never did anything to me, but... still. “Um, well, yeah, I was thinking about it, maybe. No promises though, I might have something, or something.”

“All right then. It would really suck if you weren’t there. Anyhow. I was just here to pick up a few things for tomorrow.” His gaze fell to the ground below, and for the tiniest fraction of a second, Dinky thought she saw a blush taking over his dark grey cheeks. “Right, see you, Dinky. Have fun, shopping and all that.” Swallowing hard, the colt spun around and beat his wings nervously as he fell into the crowd and disappeared.

She sat down.

Oh. Well. That was that. What’s going on? she asked herself in vain as the blood slowly trickled out of her face and her body’s heat died down to a dull glow. Pushing past the haze that clouded her mind, Dinky found the closest thing that remained intact: her grocery list. Picking out the piece of paper, she headed out and began going around the stalls, filling her saddlebags a little more at each one.

A voice talked into her deaf ear, but Dinky kept on trading bits for foodstuffs, glazed over eyes leading her to the next areas as she hid within her thoughts.

“Dinky!” Archer screamed at her, shaking the filly with violent shoves. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

“Oh, Archer?” Dinky said, pushing her thoughts to the fore. “You’re back.”

Her friend rolled her eyes. “No duh. I brought you a gift. It’s sort’ve an invitation to tomorrow’s contest.” Twisting around, the filly grabbed at something that was tucked under her wing, something long and narrow and that shined in the midday light.

She placed it at Dinky’s hooves and touched it with the tip of her wing. “It’s the arrow, you know, the one that you tried to fire the other day? I thought that maybe you’d wanna keep it, eh?”

“Well, sure,” Dinky said, warming up to the odd present. “Thanks, it’s really nice of you.” The fillies stared at one another trading quick smiles and grins before Archer bit her lower lip.

“All right then. I have to go, Dinky. I really need to practice, and do my homework too. I promised, didn’t I?”

“Yeah, I guess you did.”

She nodded fiercely. “Right! See you tomorrow then.” Huffing in pride and pumping out her chest, Archer trotted by Dinky and began trotting home under the young unicorn’s gaze.

With a slow, forced pace, Dinky pulled away from the market, her bags bulging and weighing her down with every step. Her hooves moved like a creaky old machine, halting steps that almost dragged on the uneven terrain. She was heading home.

Why is this so complicated? I love Archer, I know that, and I love Rumble, but not in the same way. Or do I? What is there to say that I actually love either one of them? Can I base that off of the things I’ve received from them? She shook her head.

No, that sounds like something a mean, selfish pony would think. Then what? What’s the basis for friendship?

Did Mommy lie to me? No, she wouldn’t. Did the books lie to me then? Or maybe I just didn’t understand them. Shouldn't there be a formula to friendship, just like how magic works and math and everything else in life revolves around those principles.

A warm wind blew, capturing the filly in its caress before it moved on and rustled with the leaves of the singular tree nearby. She followed its winding path through the air until her gaze alighted on the town’s library tree, the structure rising above her and hinting at the possibility of answering any question she may have.

The filly then looked at the path she should have been taking, the one leading her to the comforts of home where she could meditate and think and cry. When faced with the choice to stare down a challenge yourself or with friends, always find the shoulder to lean on.

She crossed the thoroughfare, her pace increasing somewhat as hope rekindled itself within her. above the doorway, dangling for a little chain, was a sign that read: Books are your friends. That confirmed her resolve once and for all.

The filly pushed into the library, finding a circular room awash in candlelight and beams of sun that descended from the ceiling to illuminate armies of dust mites. The air itself was permeated by the faint odours of sulfur, mold and the scent of opened tomes. Walking about with her horn aglow, was Twilight Sparkle, the mare levitating some new books and sliding them in the few empty spaces along her massive wall-to-wall shelves.

“Um, hello?” Dinky asked, her bravery only taking her so far.

The librarian looked over. “Oh, hi! Dinky, right?” She finished placing the few books and beat her wings with a sort of childish glee. The floating columns of dust were banished into a swirling whirlpool. “You’re Derpy Hooves’ daughter, aren’t you? I think I recall seeing you with your mom.”

“Um, yeah, that’s me.”

The princess smiled, taking a few tentative steps towards the little filly. “And how may I help you, young Miss Dinky?”

Dinky slushed again, rubbing a forehoof against her shin. “Well, I was wondering if maybe you had a book... well, I know that you have many books, I mean, a specific one, on a specific subject.”

Twilight sat down, her wings folding at her sides in the image of grace. The walls of pure knowledge behind her were like a pliable monolith worshiping their queen to Dinky. “And what subject would that be?”

“Friendship, and, and maybe love,” Dinky burst out, her throat catching just as she uttered the last words in a croak.

Twilight's eyebrows arched, but her serene smile never faded. “Ah, well, you came to the right place then!” Then, the Princess did the unthinkable for Dinky. She placed a hoof over her mouth and snort-giggled. “You kinda found an expert on the subject. At least, from a purely academic point of view.”

“Oh, I know that Miss Sparkle! I read all your books!” Dinky slid forward, closer still to the Princess, but keeping a respectful distance. “Your thesis on making friends, ‘Invaluable Commodities in the Social Arena,’ was incredible, and your book, the ‘Guide to Understanding Conflicting Personalities’ really, really helped me. I’m a huge fan Miss Twilight,” she repeated, tears springing to her eyes. “And I need help, please!”

“Oh,” Twilight said, taken aback. “Well, okay, maybe. The scientific method would imply that we take the time to make an in depth analysis of the issue, then test out a few preliminary solutions before planning out a long term goal that would solve the problem....”

“Yes, I’m familiar with the Scribeswell method of acquired friendship, but, but I don’t think I have time,” Dinky replied in a whisper. “The culmination of my social experiment is tomorrow and, and it’s hard.”

The princess sighed, then hummed, touching the tip of her wing to her chin. “We’ll have to find a solution then, but first, could you summarize the events that are troubling you so much?”

Dinky nodded. “I’ll try, Princess Sparkle. It started at the beginning of this school year. My first year in an actual school. And, I tried to make some friends and I managed to make two of them, good ones. But, well, I think, maybe I might have accidentally sorta fallen in love with one of them by accident?”

“Hmm, that’s normal, or at least, that’s what the majority of the statistics I’ve pulled have said. Ponies, generally of younger ages, tend to fall in love with each other. The ‘why’ is rather complicated though. Still, let’s focus on the characterization,shall we?” She stood up in a single graceful motion and crossed the room, her long limbs skimming past the wooden floor until she reached a shelf and searched. A moment later she returned with a thick tome by her side.

Dropping it on the ground between the two of them, Twilight reached out and began sifting through the pages. “Ah-hah, here’s a definition: a profoundly tender, passionate affection for another person. Often one that leads to... um--” Twilight swallowed hard. “--certain desires and a feeling of warm personal attachment.”

“Yeah, I think that’s what I feel for him,” Dinky said, sighing at her own hopeless situation.

“Wait, this is curious,” Twilight notted as she turned a few hundred pages over. “This is the definition of friendship: a pony attached to another by feelings of affection or personal regard. Dinky,” Twilight said as she closed the book. “The link between friendship and love is rather strong. I can honestly say that I love all my friends, very much. Maybe it’s the same for you? Maybe you’re just so friendly with this colt that you’ve grown to love him?”

“I-I.” That, that makes a lot of sense. Yeah! Maybe It’s just that I’m Rumble’s friend and me worrying isn’t because I love-love him, but because I really, really want to be his friend. And, and that explains why I was a tiny, little bit jealous of Sunny Days, because she’s his friend too! “Thanks Miss Twilight!” Dinky said as she jumped to her hooves.

In a single motion the filly hopped over the book and grabbed the princess in a tight hug, squeezing for all she was worth before the realization of what she had just done hit her. “I’m so sorry!”

“It’s, it’s okay?” Twilight replied, her entire body stiff as she stared at Dinky with detached amazement.

“Thank you so, so, so much, Princess Sparkle,” Dinky repeated as she fell into a low bow while Twilight bit her lip and tried to gesture that it wasn’t necessary.

Dinky got up, spun around and rushed out the door, practically flying as her melancholy was left behind and replaced by a growing grin. She had a bit of a plan. But first, she needed to visit the hardware store.

Author's Note

Edited by:
[]The Misfits](https://docs.google.com/document/d/1_86hYr6EtqRWFU1X8MfKsb66trHI0o75NmvkWHdKoRI/edit?usp=drive_web)

Also, we wrote a new story: Of a Certain Adventurous Pony Please, please tell us what you think!

There's a First Time for Everything

The little filly's alarm did not ring on that morning. It lay upturned on the ground, having fallen from her nearby nightstand, and buried under a small mountain of colourful plush toys and dolls.

The sun's bright morning light did not crawl across the floor to illuminate her face. Celestia’s shiny beacon did little against the thick vibrant drapes that had been closed the night before.

Her mother did not lovingly call out to the filly in an attempt to awaken her. In fact, the rest of the house was quiet, almost eerily so, in the still dawn.

Instead, Dinky Hooves found herself on the floor of her messy room, surrounded on all sides by heaps and piles of toys. The objects lining the walls of the room were mementos of the only life she had ever known. There were dolls of the Wonderbolts; creatures both fanciful and scary molded from a variety of materials; and of course, countless hoof-stitched plushies of every shape and size. All of those were piled further away from the filly, however. Nearby were more recently played-with things: bouncing balls big and small, little blocks built into a replica of the house she sat in, and a stack of Rubik's cubes, carefully aligned into the crude shape of a familiar pony.

Yet even these were of no importance to her any longer. At her hooves were the objects of a life she had only dreamed of. She stared wonderingly at the pile of lovingly organized books, neatly stacked papers, and brand new pens. Finally, her dream was coming true!

With a spark from her horn, the supplies floated into the air and deposited themselves into the open maw of her saddlebags with a satisfying clatter.

“And that’s that!” she exclaimed, giggling as only an overly-excited filly can at her simple accomplishment.

Bending over, the filly scooped up her bags and tossed them onto her back, a deep breath of air exploding out of her lungs as the weight bore down on her. Oh gosh, this is heavy! she thought before forcing herself back up, knees tapping together under the strain.

Her horn glowed a faint golden hue, emulated by the lapels of her saddlebags before they whipped open. Twisting her neck around, Dinky looked in and sighed. Well, I guess I don’t really need to bring all of the textbooks and all of the reference books on the same day... Her horn’s glow redoubling, the filly removed half a dozen thick books from within the bag, and sent them flying across the room to fit snugly into her well-packed shelves.

She huffed, content that her bags now weighed less than herself. The filly stomped her hooves in excitement, unable to quell the rising tide of pure glee threatening to overwhelm her as she crossed her room.

The door to her room opened up under a single push of her abilities, allowing her to get halfway out of the room before freezing. “Oh no!” she whispered, spinning around in a flurry of fumbling hooves.

Wide-eyed, the filly scoured her room, gaze jumping from the polka-dot tapestry, to her study desk, to her unmade bed, before it settled on what she sought. She sighed in relief. On the very edge of her bed, flipped upside-down, was a stuffed raven. The pitiful plush stared back at her with a twisted button eye.

“I’m sorry, Lenore!” she cried out as she sped across the room, absentmindedly avoiding the piles of toys and detritus dotting her floor as she reached the plush in record time. Scooping the stuffed bird up with her forehooves, the filly gave it a tight hug, squishing the googly-eyed creature to her chest. “I almost forgot to say bye.” Pushing it away, she held it at hooves’ length.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be back,” she told her silent companion. “And maybe I’ll make some other friends! We won’t be alone anymore!”

One of the raven’s button eyes rolled to one side, looking in the direction opposite the other. Just like Mommy! the filly thought before depositing the stuffed animal on her bed and turning, both ears perking at the faint creaking of their old linoleum floor.

Through their tiny house, a very distinct and incredibly familiar voice sounded, one that dripped with motherly enthusiasm. “Wake up, my little pastry; it’s your big day!”

Dinky beamed, her cheeks puffing out until it began to hurt, before trotting across her room and into their living room.

Her mother was there, the grey pegasus raising a groggy eyebrow to her daughter as the filly pranced across the spartan room and into their tiny kitchen, beelining for the front door. “Bye, Mommy, I’ll see you later,” she said half a second before reaching the door.

“Dinky Doo Hooves,” her mother said, the simple pronunciation of her name carrying all the sting of a nest’s worth of wasps. Oh, horseapples.

Dinky obediently sat down, her flank thumping on the floor as she smiled nonchalantly at her mother. “Yes, Mommy?” she asked, batting her puppy eyes at the grey pegasus.

As usual, the look had little effect on her mother’s hardened heart. “Just where do you think you’re going?” Derpy asked in return, her wings beating behind her even as she picked up a steaming cup of coffee from the dingy kitchen table and took a sip.

“Why, I’m heading off to school; think nothing of it.” Her smile was starting to strain. This won’t end well.

“I thought we had talked about this, my muffin; we’re going to walk together. It’s your first day and I want to be there.” Dinky opened her mouth to protest, but as usual, her mother was faster. “And I won’t hear any ‘but Mommy’s’ about this.”

Pouting, Dinky averted her eyes and slumped her shoulders, stewing within herself. But I don’t want to be with Mommy. I want to go alone, like all the other kids...

Derpy reached out with her wing and grabbed a brown paper bag from the table before tossing it to Dinky. In a flash, the filly caught the object and lowered it to the ground, blinking at it. “Your lunch,” her mother answered before she could ask. “I can’t leave my little filly with an empty stomach on her first day,” she said, sharing a private smile with her daughter. “Now, care to explain how you got up so fast?”

Dinky shrugged, her good mood returning almost instantly. I still get to go, at least, she conceded. “Well, I sorta couldn’t sleep at all last night. So, I stayed up and studied instead.”

Her mother moved about the kitchen, opening the oven to let the thick aroma of fresh muffins escape before fluttering over to the counter and wiping it with an old rag, the oven’s door sliding shut behind her. “So, you looked over your textbooks?”

And studied them, read them twice and researched everything thoroughly. “Yeah.”

Derpy slipped on a pair of hoof-mitts and flew back to the oven with an anticipating grin. Opening it and reaching in, the mare pulled out a tray full of steaming-hot muffins that she expertly tossed onto the table before assaulting it with a spatula. In seconds, each and every one of the muffins was out of the tray and placed in a perfect pyramid of gooey, mouth-watering goodness.

She wiped a tear from her eye. “All right, that’s it for supper!” Derpy exclaimed, tossing the mitts aside. “Should we get going?”

With a single high-pitched squeal of joy, the filly slammed the door open and whizzed out, followed by a sighing pegasus.

Dinky had stopped right outside her house, staring at the entire world with a new enthusiasm and wealth of emotion that was almost new to her.

The flowers swaying in the breeze seemed to wave 'hello' to her as she hopped jovially down the path. The long, winding road connecting them to Ponyville felt like it was a strut away from their cottage. The clouds floating by appeared to be extra puffy and the toys left in her yard looked overjoyed at their mistress leaving. After all, she had announced the departure to them months and months ago.

Freedom, she thought. The single word described the wondrous emotion welling inside her perfectly. Now, for the first time ever, she would be free to have her own real friends, go to a real school, and have real adventures.

Taking a deep breath of fresh air, the filly bent her legs and vaulted forwards, only to be brought back to the ground by the firm hoof of her mother. “Dinky?”

“Yes, Mommy?”

“We’re going together, right?” Dinky nodded, looking deep into the yellow eyes of her mother. “Well, we can’t go together if my little muffin charges ahead like that. Stay by my side and take it slow, all right?”

But... Oh, all right. “Yes, Mommy...” she said, a clear note of disappointment in her childish voice.

Derpy tousled her daughter's mane and fluttered by her, grinning over her shoulder before waving her head towards the long path. “Come on, Muffin; we’ll be late if we don’t get going. You don’t want to make a bad impression on your first day.”

“Right!” Dinky exclaimed, refusing to let her good mood be abated as she set off at a trot. The gray pegasus shook her head, smiling as she followed her daughter and marveled at the little filly's infectious enthusiasm.

The path between their house and Ponyville was nothing special, just a gravel road that had been laid along the edge of a soft hill. Along its borders, wild fall flowers were in full bloom, trying to get as much as they could out of the soon-to-be-dwindling sunlight. It was on this path that Dinky and Derpy trod, one taking slow and mature steps, the other flying through the air with the occasional beat of her grey wings.

“I get to go to school; I get to go to school!” the filly sang in an undertone as she marched ahead, her mind an absolute cornucopia of thoughts, ideas, and imaginings.

I wonder if the teacher’s nice? How many friends will I make? Did I bring my pen? Oh! I should bring Lenore with me next time! What will Mommy use: the straight route, or the curved one? The first is simpler, but the latter cuts an entire minute off thanks to morning traffic and congestion of the town centre. Not to mention the probability of meeting somepony Mommy knows is cut by eight percent.

At the same time, both ponies reached the end of the path and the beginning of the town proper, announced to them by the presence of half a dozen thatch-roofed homes set in a haphazard line. The roads of Ponyville rang of homeliness and simplicity, every detail making the filly feel safe and secure as she trotted along.

They traversed the quiet town, only meeting friendly birds that chirped through the sky around them or early rising ponies that waved hello in passing, always answered by the filly’s enthusiastic reply.

“Dinky,” her mother began, a few warning bells going off within the filly’s mind. “Look, I know we’ve talked about this before, but if ever you encounter a bull—”

“I know, Mommy. If I see a bully, I should ignore them, then, as quickly as I can, find an adult and tell them about it until I see Mommy again,” she recited from fresh memories. “We went over it.” Again, and again, and again...

Derpy Hooves looked down at her little girl, a twinkle of pride flashing in her eyes, one that did little to conceal the fear and abuse beneath. “Still, Dinky, I want you to be careful. You’re the smartest little filly I know, and you’re very special, but I don’t want other mean little ponies to use that against you.”

She shouldn’t worry so much, Dinky thought as they made good time through the town. I’m not that weak; I’ll be the best filly to ever go through Ponyville elementary school, and I’ll make hundreds of friends! I’ll never be alone again.

This isn’t like last Spring. I’m not the same naive little filly anymore.

“And don’t forget to study,” her mother went on as they arrived at a fork in the road. Without pause, Dinky stuck to the left route, trotting around the back of the Town Hall to avoid the busy square.

The filly ignored her mother, focusing rather on the new sights and smells around her, from the bustling street corners where ponies gathered to gossip, to the quiet houses marked by a cheerful dignity permeating every garden and entryway.

Somepony, somewhere, was baking an apple pie, the smell of it whispering through the air and tempting any and all with only the faintest wisps before fading into obscurity.

Along the sidewalks and running through the centre of the road were other colts and fillies. All of them were heading towards the far end of town with school bags bouncing on their backs and lunch pails wobbling from side to side. Oh, the other students! My future classmates! Dinky thought as she resisted the urge to bolt ahead and greet them. It wouldn’t be very tactful.

The sight of so many ponies her age, all of them running for the same objective with varying levels of glee and excitement, sent a tingle down the filly’s spine. I want to be like them, she thought longingly, her trot increasing without notice.

Her mother kept pace, giggling under her breath at Dinky’s contagious excitement.

If the map was accurate, Dinky thought as they approached the final corner, the school should be— The filly stopped in her tracks, eyes widening as they realized that the object of her dreams, one she had looked at with envy many times before, was now within her grasp.

Ponyville Elementary rose out of the ground, a shining beacon of education, friendship, and hope. Pastel pinks and soft whites covered its entire wooden surface, most of which was trimmed with elegant yet welcoming scroll work. Atop it all was a simple steeple hiding a shiny brass bell, one that quietly rested in eager anticipation of being rung.

Dinky began to prance on the spot, impatiently waiting for her mother to gently coast forwards to her side. Her young eyes slipped from her mother to the foals entering the grounds around the school. Instantly, she recognized some from her few jaunts into the town.

In the shade of a tall tree, a white unicorn filly was leaning against a scrawny-looking pegasus with his wing wrapped around her, both sharing a moment of tenderness. Near the entrance, Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon were giggling at a joke only they understood.

Out of the town proper, Scootaloo and Apple Bloom raced one another, red-faced as they finally slowed to a stop while the earth pony loudly proclaimed her victory.

Where are all the moms and dads? the filly wondered as she looked over the sea of foals, noticing children of every age and size, but not one adult.Don’t tell me my mom’s the only one!The filly looked over her shoulder at her mother, her discerning eyes locking onto every little fault she found, from the stains on her coat, to the familiar way her eyes roamed about, to the dopey smile that had always been a comfort to her.

Biting her lower lip, the filly approached her mother, feeling her face redden at every step. “Okay, Mommy, thanks for bringing me. I’ll be back later, all right?” she asked as she smiled up to Derpy. Please go back; please go back....

“Come on now, my little muffin, we’re almost there. Let me at least see you get into the school.” Without any further argument, Derpy slipped by her filly and headed for the school as she folded her wings to her sides and carried on, head held tall as only a proud parent could.

Dinky began to gnaw at her lower lip, searching desperately for a way out, but found no solace in the simple homes and tiny packs of foals running free, only potential problems.

Finally deciding herself, Dinky charged after her mother and out of the wall of homes on the town’s edge. I have to stop her somehow; otherwise, all the others are going to laugh at me! she concluded as she redoubled her efforts, hooves beating at the ground with a thundering rhythm.

Three roads led to the school, each one going through a different block of houses and each one intersecting at roughly the same place to become a single path. Along that long path were trees, shrubs, and the occasional flower-bed filled with fall perennials, all places where the foals of Ponyville could play and talk and have as much fun as they could between sessions of grueling schoolwork.

It was at the edge of that path that Derpy stopped, turned around, and smiled patiently at her daughter as the filly caught up, panting from the sudden sprint. “Hurry up, my muffin. I have to talk to Miss Cheerilee!”

No! I can’t have her be that close to the others. “Mommy, wait, I want to—” Dinky began to say. It was the tiniest of stones that stopped her. Merely a pebble large enough and smooth enough to make the filly trip.

For the briefest of seconds, the filly was airborne, her body bent forwards and above the ground as she seemed to take flight. Air whistled past her ears as her mane fluttered behind her, loosened by the flight.

Gravity took hold of her, pulling her down and towards the hard sidewalk.

With a hard oomph, Dinky crashed into the pavement, her rump lifting into the air and her saddlebag sliding along her back as the lapels opened and dumped the bag’s contents across the ground.

Not exactly the impression I wanted to make, she thought with a groan, a light cascade of pain rippling through her before she thumped back down unto her hind hooves and shakily stood up.

A pair of hooves held onto her, helping her stand and keep steady. “Are you okay?” somepony that was definitely not her mother asked.

Blinking back a face-full of tears, Dinky looked into a pair of compassion-filled eyes, purple ones that seemed to bite right into her soul and suck out anything intelligent she could possibly have said.

“Where’s my Mommy?” she squeaked. After a moment's inspection, she saw the mare she sought was far ahead, talking to a dark stallion and a smiling Miss Cheerilee on the edge of the school ground. The three adults formed a triangle as they shared in a quick and mundane conversation right in the centre of the winding path.

The colt blinked, then smiled kindly before letting go to land on all fours. “Are you okay?” he asked again, a twinge of worry marring his grey features.

Dinky Hooves broke eye contact, regaining a bit of herself. Is that... “I’m okay, yeah,” she said before sitting back down. It was at that moment that her saddlebags slid back into position with a whoosh and a thump, the sound hollow and empty.

The tears that had appeared in her big, globe-like eyes refused to leave as she looked across the ground. Each and every one of her precious books had been strewn across the path and lawn ahead of her, new pencils and books mixing with blades of grass and dirt. Worse yet, a few foals had stopped to stare at the spectacle, some heads poking out from behind trees and bushes to add to the chorus of laughter.

Jumping forwards, Dinky Hooves summoned up her power and lifted a few books from off the ground, only for her magic to fail with a sob as the books tumbled back onto the dirt. No...

Immediately, the colt bent down to help her, his long thin wings scooping up his fellow student’s things. Oh gosh, he’s actually helping me too, she thought, blinking away a fresh wave of tears. “This is so embarrassing,” she murmured under her breath, sniffling back a wad of snot.

The colt deposited her things in a neat pile at her hooves. “It’s not too bad. Trust me, my first day was far worse,” he said. The colt extended his hoof and a warm greeting. “My name’s Rumble.”

I know. You’re the most popular pony, ever. Blushing madly, the filly extended her own trembling hoof and they shook. “I-I’m Dinky Doo Hooves... but most call me Dinky. Except for my Mommy; she calls me Muffin.” Oh Celestia, I’m so stupid. Did I really say that? Her blush deepened, reaching critical mass.

As Rumble opened his mouth to speak, Dinky cringed, fully expecting a harsh insult. “My brother calls me Widdle Wee, as in, Widdle Wee Wumble; I guess you got the better end.” He chuckled. “So, are you new here?” he asked.

“W-well I.... Yeah, I am new, sorta.” He didn’t laugh at me? she wondered, blinking at the colt and seeing him in a new light, one that glowed and radiated with a comforting warmth.

“Cool! Always good to have some more friends, right?”

The filly’s ears perked and she inadvertently leaned towards him. Friends?

For a brief moment, the colt looked to his side and down the path heading to the school, before a dazzling smile crossed his face. “Oh, that’s my brother,” he said, pointing behind her.

Turning, Dinky looked up to a black pegasus, one who smiled over her head to Rumble. “Oi, kid, what’s this mess you made here? I leave for a second and look at this!” he said, giggling at the scene.

Derpy charged past the stallion before skidding to a halt inches away from Dinky’s face. “Are you okay? Are you injured? Do you need a new kidney?” she asked, poking her daughter all over with the affections of an overbearing mother. “Who did this to you?” She turned her attention to Rumble, glaring at the colt. “Is it him? Should I beat him?”

“No, Mommy! I just tripped on a rock or something,” Dinky said as she jumped to the defense of the colt. Oh, please, make it so my mom doesn’t kill the only friend I’ve ever made. It was then that her mother decided to crush her with a bear hug, ripping the air out of the filly’s lungs. “Mommy,” she squeaked. “You’re embarrassing me...”

Her mother let go, just in time for the stallion to sit at their side, a crumpled brown bag in his mouth. “I think this is yours?” he asked, dropping it at Dinky’s hooves. Half of an absolutely ruined muffin rolled out. “Ohh, a muffin!” he exclaimed, looking at the pitiful pastry. “Those are the best!” Derpy’s entire face lit up as she stared at the stallion appraisingly as he went on. “Much better than those filthy cupcake things, blergh.” He stuck his tongue out and cringed.

Rumble laughed, then gestured to the stallion. “Dinky, Miss Hooves, this is my big brother, Thunderlane.”

He, he was brought to school, too? Dinky wondered as the two males maneuvered and sat side by side, the older’s wing stretching over his little brother to bring him into a side-hug.

“Nice to meet you, Mister Thunderlane,” Derpy said, nodding at the pony even as she blinked at him in a way Dinky found odd. Her mother’s eyes leapt to the stallion, then did a little jumpy thing

“And you as well, Miss Hooves!” he exclaimed, a hoof absently raising up to his brother’s head to give him a ruffle. “Right, well, I’ll be off,” he said as he turned to his brother, his tall mohawk of cerulean hair waving as he bent down. “Now, what did I tell you, bro?”

Rumble smiled, a gesture filled with confidence and a simple adoration for the older stallion. “I have to believe in myself and do the best I can!”

“That’s it! And what if you can’t?”

“Then I believe in the you that believes in me!” the colt replied seconds before his brother crushed him with a hug.

Derpy and Dinky both felt something within themselves snap.

The colt waved goodbye at his brother as the dark stallion bent down, hopped into the air, and with a single powerful stroke of his wings, took off. Derpy stared up to the creature as he soared higher and higher until he became but a speck against the sun. Finally, the mother blinked and looked down at her daughter shyly putting her things back into her saddlebags with the aid of the helpful colt.

“All right, Dinky, I, uh.... Mommy has to go,” Derpy Hooves said, smiling sheepishly at her daughter.

Is she okay? Dinky wondered, her attention split between her mother, and the very kind and incredibly cute colt not a hoof length away from her. The filly found herself blinking, slack-jawed at the spot where her mother had been moments before.

She immediately abandoned the colt and her bag in favour of spinning in a tight circle, searching everywhere for her mom.

Few foals dotted the nearby streets, and any that were left were charging towards the schoolhouse with desperate abandon. The great remainder of colts and fillies were congregated in the yard, playing, talking, and trading stories of what had happened over the summer vacations. But, as was the case moments before, there were no adults in sight, not even her mother.

I’m... alone? Dinky realised with a sinking sense of dread.

Rumble trotted to her side and dropped her full saddlebags with an grunt. “Whoa, these are heavy. Oh, and if you still need a lunch....” He pointed to his own saddlebags. “I might have something we can share.”

“Oh, um,” Dinky began, still very much in shock. “Thanks.”

With that, the colt smiled at her, spun around, and galloped to the school, shouting out to some foals that immediately replied with heartening cheers.

Dinky grabbed her saddlebags and slipped them on, her ears perked and eyes wide as every single thing around her screamed danger, from the sound of hooves on pavement, to the whipping of the wind on a flag, to the distant shouts of foals.

The world seemed, not to shrink, but to grow immense to the filly who was now free, free to be harmed, to lose, to be assaulted by the hundreds of dangers lurking in every corner.

She shook her head, trying to banish the fears with logic and reasoning. Come on, it’s nothing. I’m just going to school, she thought as she began to make her way down the path once more, trees and shrubs passing on her either side.

Hundreds of foals do this everyday; there’s nothing to be afraid of. Dinky moved on, noticing almost every single one of the foals already waiting by the school. I was super excited about this, and I won’t let a single pony get in between myself and my best day ever.

The filly huffed, and stomped at the dry ground, before prancing forwards, looking a lot braver than she felt.

From behind one of the many bushes along the path, two ponies emerged, ponies that had lived in the nightmares of the filly for a long, long time.

Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon quickly and efficiently blocked her path, allowing her no access to the road leading to the school. “Hello, Dinky,” Diamond Tiara began.

Almost immediately, Silver Spoon laughed, the grating sound filling the air with a malevolent tension broken up by snorts. “What's wrong, D.T.? Can’t find an insult for her stupid name?”

Her companion, the pink filly shrugged. “No, not really. It’s already a pretty bad name,” she said, addressing her friend as if Dinky was not there at all.

Okay, Dinky, don’t panic. Mommy talked about this, she repeated to herself even as her hooves began to shiver. Step one, find an adult.

There were none.

The grey, glasses-wearing filly’s laughter only grew in strength as she nodded in agreement. “You’re right, it’s such a... a stupid name!” Finally, Silver Spoon looked at Dinky, a deep loathing flashing in her eyes. “I bet your mom’s the one who called you that; she doesn’t seem all that smart, either.”

Tears sprang to her eyes and Dinky’s lower lip began to tremble. St-step two... ignore the... ignore the meanies...

Diamond Tiara sprang forwards, taking the filly by surprise as she let out a squeak and jumped back. The pony leaned forwards, peering into Dinky’s face. “Look! I think her eyes are crossed weird, too! She must be just like her mommy: a freak.” The filly snapped her hoof out, shoving Dinky backwards and pushing her to the ground.

Dinky sobbed, “Mommy’s not stupid,” she said weakly, the third step popping into her mind. Step three: find Mommy.

“Aww, look at her,” Silver Spoon said, false compassion dripping off of her tongue like honey. “She looks so sad.... Maybe she forgot to put her diapers on this morning? Or, or did she wake up on the wrong side of the crib?”

Diamond Tiara snickered, then rounded on Dinky once more. “Look at you! You’re scum; I don’t even know why you come here. Do they even allow little things like you here? Isn’t there an age limit? And intelligence limit? I mean, you look pretty darn stupid for our school.... I guess you of all ponies really need an education.” Just as the filly took a deep breath of air to continue, the school’s bell rang.

Three loud and clear tones filled the air and resonated through their bones. “Heh, saved by the bell, huh, Stinky Dinky?”

Both fillies laughed at their own crude humour as they spun around and marched to the school, hoofsteps crunching on the gravel path as they marched away.

Dinky lay there, mind spinning circles as the stinging insults refused to abate, repeating themselves again and again within her, hurting her each and every time.

Foals ran, screamed, and shouted as they raced to class, all of them creating a chorus of joyful sounds, a joy Dinky could not join in, one she felt she would never be able to join.

She was alone.

Sniffling to herself and trying to quell the raging inferno of fear, anger and uncertainty, the filly looked behind her, then to the school.

She was in the middle, the long path stretching out an equal distance on both ends. One half went home and to the quiet, safe, but lonely life therein. The other was a life of adventure, of hardship, but one where she could make true friends.

A single sob escaped her as one feeling, one she did not expect, came to the surface:

indecision.

What’s Mommy going to say? I wanted to go to school so bad, and now... now... she was right. School’s a hard place. Dinky shivered as a cold wind rustled around the trees and stole their dying leaves, bringing with it a hint of the winter to come. But home is so.... It’s so sad

Again, the filly looked at the school, blinking through tears until she could finally focus on the building. It’s... it’s so normal, she thought, seeing the place in a new light, one that stripped it of its magic.

The gaudily-painted walls were just that: wooden walls with a coat of paint. The gentle scrollwork and homely feel were nothing but decorations and a trick of the mind. Even the laughter and chattering of the foals within sounded hollow. Fake.

One of the windows opened and Rumble leaned out of it, clutching the edge as he fired a beaming smile her way. “Come on, Dinky! You’ll be late!”

I’ll be late...

This is my first day of school. It’s supposed to be special. Not sad, not... not a nightmare like this. Shaking her head, the filly gathered as much confidence and conviction as she could muster and moved towards the school, one halting hoofstep after another.

Gently, and feeling as if her whole world was just one massive fragile mess, the filly made her way to the school. Around the building was a hedge of flowers and grass, broken only by the three steps leading into the classroom proper. The doors were wide open and welcoming, and the voices of a restless class flooded out of them.

She crossed the yard, avoiding discarded balls and the occasional trinket, until she reached the first step and placed a hoof on it as she raised her head away from the ground.

Above her was a reddish-pink mare, one wearing a deep motherly smile as she looked down at her. “Hello, you must be Dinky Hooves,” the mare said. “Come on in, sweetheart.” The teacher backed away, still smiling as she turned her attention to the class.

Shyly, Dinky took another step and slipped into the school, sighing as she crossed the threshold. This isn’t what I thought it would be. Not at all.

Every eye was on her as she entered the classroom, watching her as she stared back with wide eyes, a very large part of her mind hoping she didn’t look like she felt. No! Ignore them. Pretend they’re not there, she told herself as she trotted into the room, straightening her back as much as she could.

“Everypony,” Miss Cheerilee began, “this is Dinky Hooves. She’s our other new student this year. Aren’t we lucky! Two new friends to play with!” the teacher exclaimed, gesturing between Dinky and another foal, this one taller with a deep blue coat. Acting on instinct, Dinky walked to the other filly’s side and sat down, the full weight of the impending judgement of her peers weighing down on her..

Miss Cheerilee began to talk, but rather than giving her attention to each and every word like she had promised herself she would, Dinky focused on everything but the students. From the walls covered in arts and crafts projects from years gone by, to the beautiful sky beyond the enclosing walls. It was smaller than she had imagined.

“Dinky?” Cheerilee said, snapping the filly out of her reverie. As she jumped, Silver Spoon and Diamond Tiara laughed. “Would you tell us a little about yourself?”

“Oh, um, I guess I could...”

A few more giggled under their breath, gaining the first exasperated look from the teacher that year.

“Well, I live in Ponyville, and I sorta like reading and writing. And I really like playing on my own...” she said, voice squeaking under the gaze of her peers. "Oh! And I really, really want to make friends!” she said with renewed enthusiasm, perhaps louder than she should have.

Silver Spoon rolled her eyes, a gesture mimicked by Diamond Tiara.

“That’s great, Dinky. And you, Archer? Do you have anything you like?” The teacher shifted her

attention to the blue filly.

The filly coughed and, casting one smiling glance to Dinky, began. “Hi, my name’s Archer, but some foals call me the ‘Blue Bolt’. I really love firing the bow and arrow; it’s even on my flanks,” she said, turning to show her cutie mark that was, to nopony’s surprise, a bow and arrow. “I am new to Ponyville. We just moved in this week, so I’m really looking forwards to having an awesome time with the lot of you!”

At the head of the class, Miss Cheerilee made her way around her surprisingly clean desk and sat on her wheeled chair. “All right, class, I want you to be nice to your new friends!” Then, addressing Dinky and the blue filly, she said in a whisper, “You two can find yourselves a seat. Class is about to begin.”

Dinky nodded, then turned, facing what seemed to her as a wall of dangers created by the desks and ponies within. In the very first row, there was an empty seat, one right beside Silver Spoon. The filly reached over and tapped the bench, smiling mischievously the entire time. I-I don't want to sit there...

Archer trotted ahead, placing herself between Dinky and the cruel bullies with three steps. “Hey, you’re new too, right?” she asked. “So, want to sit together? We could become friends; I’m sure of it!”

Dinky blinked at the fellow filly, her eyes once again filling with unwanted tears as her lower lip trembled. Th-that’s all I ever wanted... “I-I...”

Archer smirked at her, placing a hoof on her shoulder. “Come on, there are a few places in the back; I’m sure of it!”

Dinky followed the other filly, passing three rows of desks and the promising glare of Silver Spoon before they finally reached the far back of the room.

There, both fillies found two empty desks crammed into a corner of the room beside a bookshelf as tall as they were. Smiling over her shoulder, Archer slipped out of her saddlebags, tossed them to the side of her desk, then hopped onto the bench, her gaze going to the front of the class, then to Dinky who had yet to move. “Are you okay?” she asked under her breath.

Dinly blinked. “Oh, yeah... I’ve just been dreaming about this for a long time,” she said, earning herself a perplexed look from her new friend even as something, something she couldn’t quite name, welled up within her.

She looked at the wooden seat, eyes roaming over the knots and scratches engraved on it, then at the desk with the scuffs of a thousand books and enough gum stuck underneath to feed a family of four. This is what I wanted, she thought as she finally moved to the bench, climbing onto it gingerly before dropping her sack to the ground. It’s perfect. She beamed, giggling in a low voice even as her cheeks puffed and forced her to squint. From her vantage point, the filly could see across the sea of heads that were her fellow students.

Student. I’m a student! she thought, a burst of pride rattling in her chest.

At the very front of the class, behind her tall and imposing oak desk, Miss Cheerilee examined an attendance sheet, coughed gently, then looked at the children. “Okay, students,” she began before being interrupted by Dinky’s gleeful squee. “Let’s start off the year with something fun!”

The teacher skipped around her desk, picking up a stack of papers as she did so. Every foal sat on the edge of their seats, wide-eyed and eagerly awaiting to see what the teacher would hoof over to them. She stopped in front of the foremost row, her last thumping hoofstep ringing across the class filled with a restrained excitement.

“Some of you will recall that I asked everypony should study over the summer vacation?”

A dozen ponies groaned. “In hopes that you did study, I prepared a little test for you all!” Miss Cheerilee said, her voice rising in pitch and excitement.

The entire class grumbled, sighed, and moaned, all but Dinky Hooves, whose ears perked and whose smile only grew larger as she stood up on her bench. Oh, sweet! I’ve never had a test before!

"Isn't this cool?" she whispered to Archer from the corner of her mouth, her anticipation and excitement filling each word.

The filly blinked at her, raising one eyebrow. “You think getting a test is cool?” she whispered back.

Miss Cheerilee began to pass the sheets out, allowing the foals to give a copy to their neighbour in an orderly fashion. “Well, yeah,” Dinky replied. “It’s a test! You get to see how good you are compared to others in the class, and the teacher then rewards you based on how hard you worked.”

Archer shrugged, then looked at the oncoming sheets doubtfully. “Uh-huh, I never really liked them myself.”

The pony in front of Dinky, one she vaguely recognized as Apple Bloom, passed the last test back, allowing the eager filly to take it with a single swipe, crumpling the page on her desk as she immediately began to drink in the information. Oh, this is going to be easy! Mommy and I did all of this years ago!

“Okay class, you can begin,” Miss Cheerilee said, rousing another chorus of groans.

On her part, Dinky tore through her saddle bags, levitated out a pen, and started as quickly as she could, reading through the questions and answering them at a breathtaking speed. The scribbling of her pen on paper filled her ears and that of her neighbours as they, for their part, only scratched the page occasionally, and sporadically.

Hmm, this must be a warm-up quiz, Dinky thought as she reached the last few questions, because this is really easy.

A few moments more and the filly was finished with the bulk of the test, and had only to look over her writing to cross her T’s, and draw smiley faces over the I’s. All done. With a contented huff, she looked up at the multitude of curved backs of foals still bent over their work as thick beads of sweat blossomed and fell as if they were going out of style.

Now what? Should I just go bring it to Miss Cheerilee? But, nopony else is done, and I’ll have to walk down the aisle, and they’ll be looking at me, an—

The teacher looked away from the opened book on her table to the class. “Just bring your tests to the front whenever you’re done,” she said before snickering and returning to her book.

Dinky swallowed hard, feeling both the colour and warmth draining out of her as she looked at the seemingly enormous distance between herself and the teacher’s desk. Okay, Dinky, it’s not that hard. You’ve walked longer distances before. This shouldn’t be that hard, she thought as she slipped out of the desk.

Immediately, a few of her classmates looked over their shoulders at her, curiosity and an inkling of envy flashing in their eyes, as Dinky began to make her journey across the classroom.

Her hoof falls, quiet as they were, rang through the room, sounding like the clack of thunder to the filly’s ears. Keeping her blushing head low, Dinky finally walked out of the rows of desks and slid into place in front of the Teacher, her test hanging limply from her muzzle. Oh no, I bet they’re all watching me, she thought, feeling the fictional eyes of the other foals burning her back.

She coughed, the sound too loud yet serving its purpose as the teacher looked up from her book, slapped it shut, and slid it under her desk, allowing Dinky only a tiny moment to read the title: Arcane Erotica for Unicorns: A Beginner's Guide.

“Is something wrong, Dinky?” the teacher asked, her smile strained on the edge. “Do you have a hard time with one of the questions?”

Dinky shook her head. “Well, no, miss. I’m finished.”

She blinked. “The test?”

Was there something else we were supposed to finish? “Um, well, yeah.” Dinky leaned forwards and slipped the sheet onto the desk, facing the teacher.

Miss Cheerilee grabbed it and slid it towards herself while her free hoof found her trusty red pen. “How about I correct this right now? Then, maybe you can try again? It’ll up the chances on your side.”

Dinky blushed and nodded. Wow, she’s really nice. I thought I was bothering her. Maybe I can help her, too?

Humming to herself, Cheerilee started marking Dinky’s test, only to stop her singing after the first few questions.

The filly, for her part, began hopping from hoof to hoof as she sweated madly, anxious to hear the results.

Cheerilee glanced through her eyebrows at Dinky, then back to the test, frowning at the paper as she continued marking it. “Okay... I’m done,” she said, her usually chipper voice filled to the brim with an odd sort of confusion and uncertainty.

“Did I do... good?” Dinky asked, her eyes growing wide and watery.

Rather than answering, the teacher turned the test around, and slid it across the desk, allowing Dinky to read the results: A+.

The filly blinked, gasping in awe and glee at the scribbled mark. “Oh, thank you, miss! This is great! I’ll have to show Mommy!”

A few students behind her snickered.

Miss Cheerilee waved at the test on the table, opened her mouth, shut it, then finally spoke. “That, that was impressive, Dinky.... How exactly did you know the answer to that last question?”

The filly beamed, glad to be able to answer. “You mean the date, location, and circumstances of the birth of Starswirl the Bearded?” She shrugged. “The answer’s on page Two-Eight-Zero of our textbook, on the footnote that references back to The Historic Account of the Equestrian Plains and Surrounding Areas, by Lauren Farce. My Mommy picked it up at the library for me.” Dinky laughed. “I almost thought it was a trick question, but the answer’s easy to remember and I doubt you’d ever try to trick your students.”

The teacher answered with a blink and a small nod. “I would never...” She coughed. “I guess you can go back to your seat and... uh... sit?”

“Thank you, Miss Cheerilee!” Dinky said with a quick whisper before she began to turn. She froze and faced the teacher once more. “But, um, well... Miss Cheerilee?”

The teacher, who was reaching under her desk for her book, froze. “Yes, Dinky?”

“You use letters for grading?” she asked, levitating the test onto the desk as proof.

Miss Cheerilee nodded. “Yes, I always have.”

“Aren’t you afraid it’s not accurate?”

The mare sighed, touching a hoof to her forehead even as she muttered a “I’m going to regret this” under her breath. “Why isn’t it accurate, Dinky?”

“Well, to begin with, you most likely go from the letter A to F, meaning there are six letters. And you mark with a plus, minus, or nothing, meaning there are now eighteen possible grades a student can receive. That also means each grade represents a five point five-five-five repeating percentile.”

Miss Cheerilee stared at the filly, face contorted with a mixture of awe and confusion. “Okay...”

“Well, if I’m to receive an A-plus, I won’t know whether I got one hundred on the test, or ninety-four point five. In my opinion, it’s better to just mark the test on a percentage basis.” Dinky smiled at the teacher. There, I think that might help her, she thought while Miss Cheerilee reached out, grabbed her test, and wrote something on it before hoofing it back.

Dinky blinked at her new mark: Ninety-four point five.

Maybe she didn’t want my help after all... Smiling sheepishly at the teacher, Dinky discreetly folded her test and floated it to her side before turning around. This time, when she faced the class, all eyes were focused on their desks, making for a much, much easier image to cope with.

She pushed ahead, smiling with a contagious and unstoppable glee as she walked in between the rows.

A hoof struck out and grabbed onto Dinky’s shoulder.

The filly stopped, and looking up, gazed into Silver Spoon’s eyes, eyes filled with loathing, cruelty, and something else, something that caught Dinky by surprise. She’s afraid?

“Help me,” the filly whispered, gesturing at her test. The sheet was covered in senseless scribbles and little drawings, but little to do with the questions themselves.

Dinky looked at her nemesis, the filly that hardly an hour ago was taunting and laughing at her. She paused, questioning herself and weighing the pros and the cons.

“I’m sorry, Silver Spoon, my Mommy said cheating is wrong,” Dinky said loud and clear, her voice carrying across the room on the backs of a dozen giggles.

Silver Spoon whipped her hoof back to her side and glared through her blush. “You’ll pay for this, Stinky Dinky,” she vehemently spat.

Doing her best to still the trembling of her hooves and walk with a straight back, Dinky returned to her seat and slipped into it.

She was content to just watch, gazing across the classroom and at the backs of all the students working hard on their tests; that was, after all, what she had been dreaming of, what she wanted ever since her mommy had visited the little schoolhouse to talk to Miss Cheerilee about her own homeschooling a few years back.

The sight of the classroom filled with smiling faces, the smell of books, and the sound of the teacher expertly doing her work as her students watched in wonder. It was then that she decided that this is where she wanted to be: in a place surrounded by friends.

No, she just wanted to have a friend.

Slowly, Dinky strayed over to Rumble, following him as he hopped out of his bench and charged to the front of the class, filled with confidence about his work.

With ease and efficiency, Miss Cheerilee marked the page and hoofed it back to the colt before he thanked her, spun around, and galloped back to his friends, proudly flashing his mark of eighty-two.

Wow, he did really good. I guess he’s smart and has a lot of friends... and I guess he’s sort of cute, too.

Instantly, the filly’s face reddened and she turned away from the colt as if by reflex before pausing. Why did I do that?

At her side, Archer stood on shaky legs, tucking her test beneath a wing as she joined the long line of foals forming in front of the teacher’s desk. Dinky followed her progress for a moment as her mind still ran circles around her previous reaction.

That was weird, she thought. All I did was look at him, and think about how nice and good-looking he is, and...She felt warm within, confused, scared, but terribly warm. She was surprised to find it wasn't a terrible feeling.

The swirl of confusion continued, even as the rest of the students got up, had their tests marked, and returned to their seats. It’s only when she noticed Archer sitting down stiffly in her seat that Dinky snapped out of her reverie, having come to no accurate reasoning for her body’s reaction.

Just as the filly leaned over to talk to Archer, Miss Cheerilee stood up and addressed the class. “Okay, everypony, I’m quite proud with a lot of you, but some, and you know who you are, need to study a little bit more for the next test!” she chimed, smiling sympathetically at a few blushing faces.

“So, how about we all take a short pause and eat our lunches early today!” The entire class cheered, even Dinky joining in the celebration before following the lead of her classmates and diving into her bag, only to pull out the crushed remains of her lunch. Oh, right.

With a sigh, Dinky pushed her lunch back into the very bottom of her saddlebags and sat back up. It’s okay, I can go a day without a lunch, she thought, even as her stomach gurgled in reproach to her decision.

“Didn’t you bring something to eat?”

Turning, DinKy looked at Archer, and the blue filly looked back, a confident smile on her lips as she reached into her own lunch pail, pulled out a slightly-squashed hay sandwich, and broke it in half. “Here,” she said, hoofing half over.

Dinky stared at it, perplexed by the motion. Is she... is she trying to share? I thought only ponies that were friends do that.... A piece of mustard-covered hay slipped out from between the bread and splattered on the ground.

“Oi, come on, it won’t get any tastier if you stare at it.” Archer shoved the sandwich forwards and Dinky gingerly laid out her hooves and grabbed hold of it, tears springing to her eyes as she chomped into it.

Archer stared at her, wide-eyed, as Dinky chewed, swallowed, and finally gulped the lunch down, crying the entire time. “Are you okay?”

Dinky nodded, tasting the salty tears as they slid into her mouth. “I’m okay,” she squeaked.

“Are ya certain?”

Again, the little purple-grey filly nodded. “It’s just... nopony ever shared anything with me before...”

Reaching a hoof to the back of her head, Archer scratched at the nape of her neck. “Oh, well, that’s no fun, I guess.” The filly turned and took a bite out of her own lunch, bits of hay staining her coat as she looked around the class. “We can be friends, if you wan—“

“Oh, yes, yes, yes, yes!” Dinky exclaimed, hind legs kicking out excitedly. “Thank you so much! We’ll be the best friends ever, and we’ll play together, and share things, and talk, and do our homework together! We’ll be the best friends, ever!”

Archer rolled her eyes, but wore a reluctant smirk as she did so. “All right, how about we start with enduring each other over lunch?”

Class flew in a blur to Dinky, from the teacher’s simple, yet incredibly entertaining lessons; to the quick and dirty notes they had to take; and even the one too-short group activity they got to partake in, one Dinky spent smiling at her partner.

In the end, Miss Cheerilee wiped the sweat of the long day’s work off of her brow, glanced at the wall-mounted clock, and gave them her most resplendent smile yet. “Okay, children, it’s finally over,” she said with an evident aire of relief.

As one, the foals cheered and immediately got to work packing things back into their backpacks.

All but Dinky.

Archer poked at her. “Oi, what are you waiting for?” she asked as she shrugged into her saddlebags and fluttered her wings experimentally, making sure they were free.

Dinky sighed, wandering the classroom with her eyes as the other foals ran out with joyful giggling and laughter. “I didn’t want it to end.”

“Ah, don’t worry, it’ll start again tomorrow morning... and the next... and the next...”

Dinky’s ears perked up and a shadow of a grin crossed her features. “That’s right! In eighteen hours!” she began, tossing her saddlebags onto her back. “We’ll all be right back here!”

“Yeah, tell me about it,” Miss Cheerilee and Archer moaned at the same time.

Leading the way for her friend, Dinky marched past the rows of chairs crowding the stiflingly warm classroom and to the doors. Fresh air whispered into the building, filled with the aroma of dying leaves, sweaty foals, and the last living moments of the yellowing grass.

She paused at the doorway, looking over her shoulder at the room cast in a hundred shadows and a thousand good wishes. With a smile, she thought, I’ll be back.

“Will you move your fat rump?” Archer whined, tapping her hoof on the wooden floor.

Giggling, the filly hopped out of the way and landed at the base of the steps before looking at the blue pegasus who followed. Today was a good day.

Archer paused in the doorway, allowing the wind to play with her mane. I made a friend.

“Do you want to stay and play a bit?” the blue pegasus asked.

“I can’t; Mommy will be worried if I stay. I’d best be going.”

Archer shrugged her wings and fluttered by her, calling out an “I’ll see you tomorrow” before she joined the vast majority of students in the playground.

In that playground were Silver Spoon, and Diamond Tiara, both of them laughing at a few colts. Maybe I made a mistake.

The giddy shouting of foals grabbed her attention and brought it to the playing field. There, Rumble was leading the chase in a game of tag, all the others gladly obeying his rule. Something in her warmed up once more. And maybe I got something very special.

A Sequel to:

Of Challenges and Kisses

Edited by:

StapleCactus

Frederick the Saiyan

Cpl Hooves

JustAnotherTimeLord

FlutterSyke

Hope you enjoy it, next chapter when I come back from my vacation!

Author's Note

Three guys editing at 2am:

Dat sass

Dat mass

Dat crass

Dat glass

Dat bass

Dat lass

Dat pass

Dat gas

Dat ness

Dat class

Dat bass (the other one)

Dat grass

Dat mass (the other one)

Dat rass(le dazzle)

Dat (multi-)pass