My Brother, the Storyteller

by gmen15

Rating: teen
Tags: Thunderlane, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Rainbow Dash, Cutie Mark Crusaders, Romance, Scootaloo, Rumble, Slice of Life
Length: 40272

Rumble loves his big brother. But more importantly, he loves the stories he tells. This is a story about the lengths to which a stallion will go to protect his younger brother's innocence

Rumble loves listening to Thunderlane's bed-time tales every night. Tales of adventure, oftentimes centered on the fictional knight 'Rumble the Valiant.' What Rumble doesn't know, however, is that Thunderlane tells him these stories in order to protect his innocence. But what happens when the lines between reality and fantasy start to blur; when real life starts to impact the nightly stories, and the stories start to impact real life?

Cover Image by skipsypony

Help Editing/Pre-Reading from Twi-Guy, BubblepipeWrangler, and Garbo802

Idea Somewhat Sparked From the Synopsis of this Fic: The Dragon in Twilight

Published 2013-03-25 04:10:02 UTC
Last updated 2013-07-01 19:00:05 UTC

Thunderlane's Tall Tales

My Brother, the StorytellerChapter 1: Thunderlane’s Tall Tales

Rumble was a colt that loved the night. It wasn’t just that he had a crush on a certain goddess of the night that had been trapped on the moon for a millennium, or only because he was free from the stresses of school. He loved it because of the time he got to spend with his older brother, Thunderlane. Whether it was through his playfulness or his gripping storytelling, Thunderlane seemed to make all worries that had piled up onto Rumble's back evaporate into nothingness. To Rumble, he was the best big brother ever. There were many words Rumble could use to describe Thunderlane: funny, kind, supportive, smart. But there was always one word that dominated the rest.

Escapist.

Most of Rumble’s day was long and arduous. His mornings and afternoons were spent at school, where he’d sit in his hard chair, drifting off into his imagination while his teacher, Miss Cheerilee, rambled on about some topic that was not only boring, but would never be of use in his future life. At least that was what Thunderlane had told him. Then again, he never was one for school, or any kind of formal education. He was a stallion that lived his life based on experience rather than what he was taught in classrooms as a colt.

“All that stuff they teach you in school is useless”, he’d scoff. “It doesn’t matter how much you know about complicated algebra or the history of the Griffon Kingdom, it’ll never be of any use in day-to-day life. Textbook knowledge only gets you so far in the real world, kiddo. Remember that, and you’ll always be ahead of the game.”

And remember he did. After all, Thunderlane’s logic was hard to refute. Rumble knew that his brother was much wiser in regards to life than most ponies he knew: young or old. That is how Thunderlane would present himself in public: logical, streetwise, mature, and, above all else, macho.

However, when the two brothers were by themselves in their home, Thunderlane would shed that exterior image of being a mature, rational stallion and adopt the image of a- for the lack of a better word- goofball.

Thunderlane was a silly pony that loved to play around. He expressed his love of sports around his friends while secretly enjoying tales of fantasy and adventure with his younger brother. He enjoyed everything from novels to plays to movies- so long as nopony other than his younger brother would witness it. But his love of what many would consider “passions of the nerds”, wasn’t solely limited to forms of media. For Thunderlane, and consequently Rumble, it went even deeper than that.

Every day, once Rumble got home from school, he would be met with the sight of an extremely playful Thunderlane, who sometimes went so far as to pretend to be a monstrous beast or a sinister wizard or even a gallant knight corrupted to do evil. It all depended on what role he felt most inclined to adopt that particular night.

One time when Rumble returned home from school, he was greeted by Thunderlane standing behind the door wearing royal guard armor, which was really just an old Nightmare Night costume he dug out of the basement. He stood tall and proud, telling Rumble that in order to pass he must answer three questions, lest he be thrown into the “eternal pit of doom”. Rumble puffed out his chest and exclaimed that he wasn’t afraid; how he would answer the questions faster than a speeding Wonderbolt. With a fox-like grin, Thunderlane asked the questions.

Rumble answered the first two without a problem: what his name was and what he hoped to accomplish by passing into the house. But the third question, as it normally did, stumped him. In fact every time Thunderlane decided to play this game, he would chose a final question that would be nigh impossible for anypony without a doctorate to answer: What year did the first battle of the Griffon Kingdom take place? Who were the first three captains of the Wonderbolts (in order)? What is the fastest speed ever recorded for a pegasus and who accomplished it?

This night, Thunderlane asked his younger brother for the name of the pony that created the amniomorphic spell. Rumble struggled to remember the name, but he knew that he had heard it before. The town librarian Twilight Sparkle, had brought it up a while back. He struggled, trying to get the answer that dangled on the tip of his tongue, but he just couldn’t remember. Pacing back and forth, he tried his absolute hardest to come up with something, anything, that could work as an answer. Alas, no matter how hard he strained, it wouldn’t come to him.

Once certain that Rumble was unable to answer, Thunderlane shook his head and said in his most sinister, serpentine voice said “your time is up”. He then broke his stoic act and pulled Rumble close to his chest, giving him a rough noogie and messing up his mane - his punishment for failing to answer the questions three. This caused the both of them to erupt into a playful laughter, Rumble trying to swat his brother’s hoof away while Thunderlane put Rumble into a gentle head-lock and continued his noogie torture until both of them had thoroughly exhausted themselves.

They then sat on the carpet and discussed their day between pants. Rumble talked about how boring school was and how he got pushed into the mud by some colts. Thunderlane growled, asking for the bully’s names, but Rumble refused. Thunderlane tried to get him to spill the beans a few more times, but after awhile it became apparent that he was never going to get his brother to tattle, so he simply told him to stand up for himself in the future.

Thunderlane then told Rumble about his day managing the skies, going on and on about the various pegasi he worked with, including an overly-muscled pony with tiny wings named Snowflake. Rumble couldn’t help but snicker as the image of the beefy pony popped up in his mind, which earned him a cool glare from Thunderlane. Realizing he was being rude, Rumble stopped laughing and apologized. Thunderlane’s smile returned before he continued talking about how they had to spend the entire day kicking clouds, and that his legs were still sore, though he didn’t limp or grunt with each step. By the way he presented himself, Rumble would never have guessed.

The conversation continued for a while until Thunderlane decided it was time to get dinner started. They didn’t have anything extravagant: macaroni and cheese with a side of lightly-salted hayfries. But no matter how simple the dish was, Rumble found it extremely satisfying and loved it. He was always amazed how his brother was able to bring out the best in such a simple meal. Maybe it was some twist on an old recipe, or perhaps it was the company of Thunderlane that made it so great. Either way, Rumble loved dinner time.

But the fun didn’t end after their meals had been devoured. Once the brothers finished eating and had cleaned the kitchen, they went back in the living room to play around some more. Because Rumble didn’t have much homework and Thunderlane didn’t have many chores, they spent the rest of the evening acting out the most ridiculous of tales. Rumble donned his own knight costume, complete with a fake sword, while Thunderlane pretended to be Rumble’s favorite creature- a fire-breathing dragon.

Thunderlane stomped around the living room, roaring and pretending to shoot flames from his mouth.  Rumble avoided the imaginary balls of fire by ducking and dodging behind anything he could find, from the sofa, to the armchair, to the wall. He managed to grab a pillow to use as a shield as he rolled behind the couch, pressing his back against it as he heard the threatening hoof-stomps of his brother.

“I know you’re around here. I can smell your fear, lingering like fog in the air,” Thunderlane said in a deep voice, laughing menacingly. Rumble smiled, his heart beating like a rabbit’s foot against his chest. His breathing quick and shallow. His smile broad and beaming.

“I’m not afraid of you.” Rumble shouted, his voice quaking as he tried to suppress his laughter.

“Ah, you may not be afraid now, but you will be.” Thunderlane said, his voice growing nearer, “And  in your carelessness, you’ve just exposed your position to me. Hehehe.” Before Rumble could retort, his brother’s black head popped out to his left. He turned to see Thunderlane grinning. In the shadow of the couch, Rumble could swear for the briefest of moments Thunderlane took on the form of a dragon.

“Hello...Rumble.”

The colt let out a perfect mix between a scream and a laugh, leaping away and running off with Thunderlane in hot pursuit. The older stallion stopped briefly, reared up onto his hind-hooves and let out a roar that was so authentic, Rumble felt a momentary surge of fear rush through him. But they were playing around, so it was a fear Rumble welcomed.

They continued this routine for a long while. Almost an hour of Rumble diving, ducking, dipping, dodging and evading imaginary death. When Rumble vanished for certain amounts of time, Thunderlane would monologue, lacing some menacing laughs into his speech. He would then either find Rumble, or Rumble would jump out and stick out his tongue in an attempt to taunt his faux dragon brother. The chase would then continue like normal, with lots of stomping and roaring.

Sometimes Rumble wondered if any of their neighbors could hear them through the aging walls of their home. If so, it probably sounded like a mental ward, Rumble reasoned. Not that he cared, he didn’t. All that mattered was that he was having a good time with his big brother.

Having thoroughly worked up a good sweat and feeling his legs give out beneath him from exhaustion, Rumble decided that it was time to put his attack strategy to the test. He held his pillow-shield out in front of him to deflect Thunderlane’s flames and inched towards him until he got close enough to thrust the plastic sword towards him.

Thunderlane then, as he usually did, let the sword go under his foreleg and clamped down on it so it appeared, from the side, that he had actually been slain. Thunderlane- in a comically dramatic manner- gagged a few times, keeled over and “died”. Rumble burst into laughter, looking at Thunderlane’s limp body: tongue lolling out and eye twitching. It was like watching a cartoon character perish.

Soon after, Thunderlane “resurrected” himself before he grabbed his little brother and, pulling him close, gave him yet another noogie as revenge. The two siblings shared laughter until the nearby grandfather clock strike nine. As with every night, their laughter ceased at this time.

Thunderlane’s expression instantly became serious as he gazed down at his little brother, ordering him upstairs. Rumble complained, but in the end Thunderlane once again got his way and the little colt sulked up the stairs to brush his teeth and lay in his bed. There, he waited for Thunderlane to come up to read him his nightly bedtime story.

Sometimes, the stallion would come in only twenty minutes after sending Rumble upstairs, though that was a rarity. More often than not, Rumble would wait patiently for up to an hour. During the time between going upstairs and Thunderlane’s appearance, Rumble would hear the front door to their house open as his father returned home. Not a night had gone by where Rumble did not want to run downstairs to greet him, but he knew doing so would only lead to Thunderlane scolding him. And when Thunderlane was scolding, his voice was enough to make the whole house tremble. His convincing dragon act was comedy compared to his true self when he was fuming.

Ever since their mother had moved out over a year before, Rumble hardly spent any time with his dad. In fact, the only time he got to see him was either in the morning before school when he’d see him passed out on the couch- something that puzzled the colt as his dad had a perfectly fine bed to sleep in upstairs- or on the weekends when he didn’t work. But for some reason, Thunderlane would never let Rumble leave his room after he was sent up. It always puzzled him, but he just rolled with it.

As he continued to wait, he heard crashing noises coming from downstairs. It was just like every night. He’d hear strange and violent noises coming from downstairs, ranging from cursing to smashing. It was so sporadic that he couldn’t put a hoof on what exactly was going on. Finally, the odd noises would stop, and Rumble would know that Thunderlane would be up soon. He listened for the familiar sound of hoof-steps trudging up the stairs, which got closer and closer before the door to Rumble’s room creaked open. A very tired-looking Thunderlane slowly trotted through the open doorway.

Usually he’d just look a little dishevelled, his mane messy and his eyes drooping. Other times he’d have a mysterious cut or bruise on his face. But no matter how terrible Thunderlane looked, Rumble didn’t speak up. He knew that the stallion would only skirt his questions and change the subject. It would have been a pointless effort.

This night was no different. Even with the clear black-and-blue mark streaked across Thunderlane’s cheek standing out prominently in the light of the bedside lamp, the curious colt stayed quiet.

Besides, it was story time, when the exhausting day could be abandoned as both brothers escaped into a fictional world of Thunderlane’s making..

Thunderlane gently closed the door behind him. Turning, he gave his brother a warm smile. He trotted over to the side of the bed and sit his flank onto the carpeted floor.

“So,” he started, turning towards Rumble. “What kind of tale do you want to hear tonight? One of action? Adventure? Romance?” He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, and the young colt chuckled. Rumble would almost always chose either an action or adventure story. He wasn’t that big into romance, even if he was one of the only colts his age not entirely opposed to it since he was at the age where most of his classmates thought girls carried the epidemic known as ‘cooties.’ And since most ponies in Rumble’s class, much like most ponies in Ponyville, were female, that meant most of his classmates were ‘infected’.

Though his stories were primarily centered on adventures, Thunderlane would still find ways to sprinkle seeds of romance into them. He said it was to mess with his brother, knowing how much Rumble dislike romance. He would have complained about it had it not been story time- the best time of night. The time when all of his daily worries melted away into the puddle of the past as he entered the present wonder of his and his brother's joint imagination. As long as he got an awesome, action-packed story out of it, Rumble could handle a little sappiness.

In the darkness of his room, all tucked comfortably into his bed with his blanket pulled up to his chin, Rumble lay back and listened as Thunderlane cleared his throat to begin his story. For this story, he chose to tell the tale of a heroic knight.

It wasn’t always a knight, however. Sometimes it was a warrior or a soldier or whomever the designated hero of the night happened to be. One time he even told the story of a heroic bounty hunter living during the dark ages of Equestria that helped an escaped pony free his marefriend from the slavery of fictitious ruler King Candie - a rather bloody tale for such a young colt, but Thunderlane told it anyway. He knew that his little brother could handle it. It was just a story, after all- a story of a pony named Django.

More often than not, however, the character in Thunderlane’s tales would be a knight. Specifically, it would be a blank-flank pegasus stallion with a grey coat and flowing black mane who went by the ever so subtle name of ‘Rumble the Valiant’,  the most renowned knight in all of Equestria.

He was strong, noble, courageous and, above all else, handsome. So handsome, in fact, that he’d court a different mare at the end of each story. It was as if he couldn’t hold down a steady relationship with anyone. Rumble, however, didn’t care about this. All that mattered to him was that he was a hero, and mares dug heroes.

There was nothing the colt enjoyed more than listening to his brother throw his older self-insert into various situations of conflict that he would manage to find a way out of each and every time.

Rumble would take it a step further, imagining that the knight was his own age. A school-aged colt rather than a full-grown stallion. He reasoned that a little narcissism never hurt anypony. Not to mention it was the one time he felt that he was allowed to be narcissistic, or even ‘proud’ of himself. Several of his tormentors at school made certain of that.

Thunderlane cleared his throat and began the story:

On this dark night, Rumble found himself in a deserted wasteland- a vast place with sandy earth, where cacti and shrubs no larger than mice were the only vegetation. He came up to a magnificent castle. It was a strange sight, a magnificent castle among the barren wasteland that surrounded it. But he didn’t ponder it, he accepted it openly for he knew that inside, he would find his maiden.

But before he could get too close to the entrance, a dark shadow leapt from behind a nearby rock. Rumble watched in horror as a terrifying manticore landed in front of him, panting and glaring at the knight with feral eyes. The beast reared back on its hind legs and let out a deafening roar, breaking the silence of the otherwise silent night. The beast charged and swatted Rumble across the head, sending him skidding across the ground in a cloud of golden sand.

Rumble felt his sword fly from his hoof, landing about two feet from where he lay. He looked up just in time to see the manticore leap towards him, teeth bared, and land on him. He was pinned, trapped beneath the monster, smelling its rancid breath as it looked down at him, growling and slobbering like a hungry dog. He struggled to get free, reaching out towards his sword with one hoof as he pushed the manticore’s paw with the other.

He kept pawing at it in vain, desperately trying to get it. He looked up to see that the manticore was grinning victoriously. Rumble had fallen into his trap, or so the beast thought. The manticore raised a massive paw, claws glistening under the moonlight, ready to end the knight’s journey early with a swift swipe to the jugular.

But before it could do so, Rumble finally managed to reach the sword. He grabbed onto the handle and in a silver flash thrust it into the monster’s chest. In an instant and a streak of red, the manticore stumbled to the ground, clutching its chest as blood gushed out. Carefully, Rumble got to his hooves, still a bit shaky from the attack. He looked up to see the manticore laying on its side, the life slowly leaving it. It let out a few pathetic whimpers, its eyes that once showed a blazing heat were now cooled and tired. Its paw lay limp on its chest. What had once been a killer monster a few moments before now looked more like a wounded kitten. All dignity it had was dying along with it.

Pitying the manticore, Rumble trotted over to it with his sword in hoof. He raised the blade high above his head and looked down into its eyes. Its eyes sad, almost begging for him to deal the final blow.

Rumble looked back up and took a deep breath. He plunged his sword into the manticore’s throat. There was no blood-curdling roar, only silence. The whimpering and sounds of movement coming from the great beast were no more. Rumble could only hear his own ragged breathing as he stood above the manticore’s body. His armor and exposed fur was covered in blood, from both the manticore and himself, but he was alive.

Rumble looked back up at the castle, now safe for him to enter (as far as he could tell). He trotted towards the entrance and pushed the door open, revealing the near pitch-black interior.

The knight slipped into the frigid castle. He proceeded while staying pressed up against the wall, feeling his way until he turned a corner. Torches lined the walls, giving Rumble some visibility. At the end of the hall was a set of spiral stairs- narrow and dangerous. He sighed and made his way to them and started his climb, soon discovering that the steps were extremely frail. His hoof burst through two of the steps. Fortunately, the ever-vigilant Rumble was able to re-stabilize and continue up until he reached the final step. He found himself in a massive room, so large that calling out would have most likely created an echo. In a far corner was a cobweb-covered piano, from the ceiling hung an ancient chandelier. And at the opposite end of the room was what Rumble was looking for: a door that he knew was the last barrier that stood between him and his damsel in distress.

Rumble rolled his eyes at that part. He hated damsels in distress, being much more into “rough-and-tumble” tomboy fillies. Nevertheless, Rumble put aside his own biases and continued listening to the story.

Rumble let out a small laugh, pleasantly surprised as to how easy breaking into the castle had been thus far. But before he could even enter the room, he heard what sounded like tiny little wings buzzing on the walls. To his right he saw a torch. He picked it up and moved it in front of him. The room was too large to see what exactly the noise was coming from, but there was unmistakable movement on the walls. Rumble swallowed hard and slowly made his way into the room. He got about halfway when the wings beat faster and faster. Soon, the sound was right on top of him as he ducked just in time to avoid the swarm of beetles that buzzed overhead.

He stayed low, knowing that these beetles were Dart Beetles and could devour a pony in a matter of seconds. He could hear the wings coming closer and closer to him. He felt a nip at his rump and turned to see one of the insects with its pincers planted firmly in his flesh. He squashed it with his hoof only to see another beetle land on his back. He over, careful not to smother the torch in his hand, and crushed the beetle into a small puddle of guts and chitin. He waved the torch above him trying to keep the bugs at bay, but it was only so effective as they were still finding places on his body to land. Rumble knew full well that he was done for unless he thought of something fast.

And that’s when it hit him.

Reaching into his saddlebag, he pulled out what looked like a crystal. The witch he visited before his departure had told him the crystal would help him when he faced his darkest foe. And seeing as the entire room was growing near pitch-black in the presence of the beetles, he assumed that now was no better time to make use of it.

“Wait a second!” Rumble interrupted. “When the hay did he get a crystal? You never explained that!”

“Remember the story from two nights ago?” Thunderlane said. Rumble nodded. “Okay, then do you remember how the witch gave Rumble a few items, one of which was a crystal?”

Rumble thought for a second before nodding, “Oh yeah, that’s right. Sorry, I thought you were pulling things out of mid-air to advance the plot.”

“Well I don’t do that, as I’m not lazy. Besides, I expect my audience to be smart enough to remember little things like that. Am I wrong to think that, Rumble? Aren’t you smart?”

“Of course I’m smart!” Rumble said, scowling. “I’m one of the smartest colts in my class! You don’t need to explain everything to me!”

“Good,” Thunderlane laughed, “now if you’re done with your little inquiry, my I return to the story?”

Rumble nodded, his pouting gone by the time Thunderlane continued his narration.

He held the crystal high and, almost immediately, a bright green light shone from it. The beetles screeched and started to fly off. Even those that landed on his body, upon seeing the brightness of the light, bailed. Soon the beetles were no longer in the air above him, they had flown back to the walls. Slowly, Rumble stood up. His armor protected most of his body from the attack. Only a few bites on the exposed areas could be seen. Sighing, Rumble held the crystal high, which was still emitting a powerful green glow, and completed his journey across the room. Rumble opened the door and entered before quickly closing it behind him to keep a barrier between himself and the beetles.

Inside was a tiny bedroom with a single window. There was no light and no way to tell time save for the window which allowed one to discern whether it was day nor night, but not much else. The walls were bland and concrete, with no adornment save for the numerous tallies left by the Princess to estimate her lengthy stay. But Rumble didn’t have time to count how many streaks the Princess had made in the wall, and trotted to her bed, where he spotted the Princess sleeping.

He approached, taking off his sweat-covered helmet, its surface showing damage from the fight with the manticore. He looked down upon the face of the Princess, the one he had been searching tirelessly for. She was an alicorn. Her coat was a sleek ivory color, and even when tucked at her sides, her wings looked majestic. A halo-like light around her head made her knight in shining armor blush through his grey coat.

She was the most beautiful mare the knight had ever seen.

Of course every mare in every story Thunderlane told was “the most beautiful one the knight had ever seen”, so Rumble took that otherwise bold statement with a grain of salt.

Back in the fantasy, Rumble gazed upon the mare in awe. The light was then serving its third purpose, illuminating the Princess in such a way that she took on the appearance of a goddess fallen from the heavens. Slowly she stirred and let out a small yawn before waking. She looked up and her piercing violet eyes met Rumble’s own. She smiled sweetly. It was a smile of relief and appreciation, and love.

Rumble cleared his throat to speak, “M’lady, I have come to rescue you from this terrible place and bring you home to your family and subjects, where you’ll be safe and sound from this dreadful place.”

A smile spread across the Princess’ face. “I know. Thank you so much for saving me, Sir Rumble,” she whispered in a melodic voice, putting her hoof behind Rumble’s head and pulling him close, her warm breath mixing with his own. His face continued to move lower, inching its way closer to the mare’s enticing mouth. Rumble closed his eyes and braced for sweet impact.

It was at this point that Rumble, the real Rumble, snapped. He desperately waved his hooves around and sticking out his tongue in disgust at the very idea of something as lovey-dovey as kissing making its way into his knight story. Thunderlane stopped telling the story, snickering at his brother’s overreaction.

Now finished with the telling of his impromptu tale, Thunderlane leaned over and give his brother a gentle kiss on the forehead, an expression of brotherly affection that made the still-squeamish Rumble even more so.

“Ewww, come on Thunder! That’s gross.” The colt spat in disgust.

“Welcome to the real world, Rumble, where kisses are good and plenty. Especially from those that love you.” Thunderlane chuckled before giving Rumble’s mane one, final rub. He stood up and making his way towards the door. He opened it a crack before turning back towards Rumble with a kind smile on his face, though his eyes were glassy. “Goodnight kiddo, sleep tight and don’t let the parasprites bite.”

“You’re only kidding! Parasprites don’t bite ponies!”

“Dang, I remember when you used to fall for that all the time when you were younger.” Thunderlane smiled, his white teeth and golden eyes glowed in the dark room. Rumble smiled back, giggling slightly along with his brother. “See you tomorrow.”

Thunderlane slipped out into the dimly-lit hallway and closing the door behind him. Rumble was now alone.

He looked at the crack beneath the door through which he could see Thunderlane’s shadow. He stared, waiting for it to vanish, but it staying in proximity of the doorway as if Thunderlane was just standing outside, doing nothing. Rumble then heard what he thought was a whimper or a cry, but he pushed the assumption aside as mere hallucination.

Finally, the shadow vanished and Rumble was finally, truly alone. He moved onto his side and gazed out his bedroom window. The darkness of the night coupled with the brilliance of Luna’s moon always took Rumble’s breath away, and this night was no different. Not that he’d admit it to anyone at school, as he’d get ragged on even more than normal. But it wasn’t something he had control over. It had pierced his imagination, for the sight always reminded him of the long, dangerous treks under the night sky and full moon that Thunderlane always said ‘Rumble the Valiant’ went on.

The colt felt his his eyelids start to grow heavy as his mind continued to run wild. He imagined himself as the fictional knight from his brother’s stories. It wasn’t difficult, after all the character was, in essence, him. Just a braver, stronger, and more popular version of him. It was the pony he wished to be, no matter how unlikely it seemed.

However, it still helped him fall asleep and provided him with dreams where he was the gallant knight of his brother’s tales.

Making New Friends

Chapter 2: Making New Friends

It began like any other weekday for Rumble. He woke up at the crack of dawn, when Thunderlane ever so subtly yanked the sheets off of his body. Rumble groaned and pleaded to be given ten more minutes, but Thunderlane didn’t cave and resorted to his favorite method of getting the lazy colt out of bed.

Tickle torture.

He placed his hooves underneath Rumble’s forelegs and went to work, causing Rumble to squirm with laughter, pleading for mercy and promising to get up. Eventually Thunderlane stopped and patted Rumble on the head. The colt’s eyes were baggy and exhausted but the content smile on his face was enough to get the message across that he was ready to get up to start his day.

He dragged himself downstairs, passing the living room couch where his father lay passed out and face-down as though he had tripped. Rumble gave his Dad a quick kiss on the forehead, eliciting a slight stir from the older stallion who promptly went back to being stiff, snores like bellows of thunder escaping his lips.

Rumble went into the kitchen where he saw two bowls of cereal on the circular table in the center of the room. Thunderlane capped the milk and put it into their fridge before taking a seat at the table while Rumble did the same. Once his flank made contact with the chair, Rumble immediately started to shovel his cereal into his mouth, splashing milk and soppy grain everywhere.

Thunderlane raised an eyebrow, “You’re gonna get a tummy-ache if you eat that fast.”

“I’ll bew fwine.” Rumble muttered, his cheeks bulging with a wadded mush of milk and cereal. Some spray droplets of milk flew from his mouth and landed across the table. He put a hoof up to wipe his lips as he swallowed. “Oops, sorry about that.”

Thunderlane chuckled, “It’s cool, no use crying over spilt milk.”

“And please don’t call it a ‘tummy ache’, okay? I’m not a foal anymore, I don’t have a ‘tummy’. I have a stomach.”

Thunderlane stared for a moment, his eyes seemed to show a glimmer of something Rumble couldn’t make out. Was it sorrow? He didn’t have much time to analyze it as Thunderlane quickly smiled, “Okay, fine. I won’t use the term ‘tummy’ anymore if it bothers you that much.”

“Thanks,” Rumble said before he turned his attention back to his cereal. Thunderlane grabbed his napkin and proceeded to wipe the tiny drops of milk off the table. He then started to eat his cereal, going at a much more tedious pace than his brother. Rumble even managed to get through a second bowl before Thunderlane finished his first.

However, both eventually finished eating, leaving nothing but sugary milk in their bowls. But that wouldn’t last long as an idea formed in Rumble’s noggin. He looked up and gave his older brother a competitive glare.

“Wanna race to see who can finish their milk first?” He asked, pointing to his bowl.

Thunderlane looked down at his own bowl, then back up at his brother with an equally competitive look, “Bro, you are so on.”

Both brothers held the bowls up to their lips, eyes meeting both full of eagerness and pride.

“On your mark, get set...” Rumble let his lips touch the edge of the bowl, ready to chug it. “Go!”

Both ponies began to drink the contents of their bowl when, finally, Rumble placed his bowl down onto the table and threw his hooves up in triumph, his face dominated by a smile and milk-stained fur.

“Finished!”

Thunderlane sighed, but kept a smile as he placed his empty bowl onto the table, “Nice one, bro. You beat be by a split second, but now I’m going to get you back. You know that, right?”

“Tomorrow, same time, same place?” Rumble asked. Thunderlane chuckled and gave his brother a nod. “Awesome!” Rumble wiped the milk from his lips with the back of his hoof and stood up, pulled his saddle-bag over his back and made his way over to Thunderlane.

He gave his older brother a goodbye hug, which Thunderlane returned, and left to make his daily trek to school. The sun was at a modest height. Not at the pinnacle like it would be at noon, but it was no longer teetering on the horizon as if deciding whether to rise at all. Rumble hummed to himself a tune of joy, passing ponies that were either heading to work or already there, setting up stands on the side of the dirt road or preparing their shops to be opened. Nopony seemed to notice Rumble, but that didn’t mean he didn’t notice them.

He passed by a small candy shop called ‘Bon Bon’s Famous Treats’. He saw the white mare herself inside the shop talking to her best friend and eccentric unicorn, Lyra Heartstrings. Rumors circulated around town that they were a couple, no matter how many times the duo denied it, Bon Bon typically being the more vocal of the pair.

The colt never bought into it, believing that spreading rumors should stay in the grade-school classroom. And even if he was wrong and they were secretly a couple, it wasn’t anypony’s business but their own.

Across the street, Davenport stood outside his ‘Quills and Sofas’ shop, waiting for the first customer to enter. The gleam in his eye made it obvious to even Rumble that he hoped it would be a mare. The stories about him being a seducer of mares, or at least attempting to seduce mares, spread across town like a virus. However, unlike the rumor about Lyra and Bon Bon’s ‘relationship’, the rumor about Davenport had been proven true time and time again. So Rumble had no problem showing his disapproval of him. He rolled his eyes in disgust as he passed by, the flirtatious stallion too focused on a pair of mares walking by to notice.

Rumble kept trotting along, giving his eyes the chance to wander and his mind to drift off to things better and more exciting than school. He soon found himself reflecting on Thunderlane’s story from the night before and how it seemed to mentally transport him to another world where he could see through the eyes of an imaginary colt who was far more popular and heroic than he could ever hope to be.

The sound of ducks quacking snapped Rumble out of his daydream. He blinked a few times, finding the butter-colored pegasus he recognized as Fluttershy crossing his path. She was leading a row of ducklings that quacked and waddled as ducklings so often do, to the pond at the other side of the road. He would have been confused as to why a pony would be leading a group of ducklings to the pond, but since it was Fluttershy, the town’s ‘animal whisperer’, he didn’t think twice about the matter.

“Right this way, easy now Careful not to trip on any pebbles or cracks..” Fluttershy said to the ducklings in a calm voice. She turned to Rumble and let out a tiny gasp. “Oh, I’m sorry Rumble, I didn’t see you.”

“It’s cool,” Rumble said with a nervous chuckle.

“I hope you don’t mind if I cross in front of you. I’m just moving these ducklings over to this pond.” She pointed beyond a small line of bushes at a pond filled with crystal clear water where an older duck was wading along the surface, its beady little eyes focused on Fluttershy and the ducklings.

“It’s...not a problem at all,” He said somewhat uneasily, his cheeks heating up. Socializing always made him feel lofty and nervous. He waved Fluttershy along. “Please...go right ahead.”

Fluttershy nodded, “Thanks.” She turned back to the ducks. “Okay little ones, let’s get you back to your mother. I’m sure she can’t wait to see you all.”

As Rumble walked past, he couldn’t help but watch as the ducklings slipped into the pond where the larger duck waited. It paddled over to the small ones, quacking excitedly, flapping her wings until she was reunited with them. Fluttershy watched the sight from the edge of the pond. Rumble could see the most content smile on her face. It must’ve been contagious because not moments later he found a smile spread across his own face. But he wasn’t entirely sure if it was Fluttershy’s reaction to the ducks, or seeing the mother duck welcome her little ducklings with open wings, bringing them close to her body and nuzzling them like a loving parent should.

Rumble turned his attention back to the road and continued. The little ducklings had now invaded his mind as he imagined Rumble the Valiant leading them back to their mother.

But then the ducklings changed into a line of ponies that weren’t returning to their waiting mother in a pond, but fleeing from a psychotic pack of minotaurs. In a matter of moments Rumble went from having a cute little fantasy, to having a mature, masculine vision that left Rumble’s heart pounding with adrenaline and gave him a strange urge to start pounding his chest and howling like an enraged gorilla.

He finally reached the tiny schoolhouse, the front of which were packed with his classmates, who were outside chatting it up with each other. He felt himself start to get nervous. So many ponies, so many chances to make a fool out of himself or get made fun of between where he stood and the entrance to the building. Quickly he walked past the mass of students, keeping his eyes averted as he hoped that nopony would notice him.

“Hey where do ya think you’re going Tumble?”

Rumble froze. He knew that voice. It belonged to Orange Berry, one of his many tormentors. He could hear a chorus of laughter from his minions. Rumble closed his eyes, not wanting to look back at the pony, the image of his face in his mind- the blue mane and eyes, the orange face with a smug grin- was quite enough.

“Why don’t you turn around and face me like a stallion? Or are you a scared little filly?” Rumble swallowed hard and clenched his teeth. Somewhere, deep in his mind a voice shouted at him to face his bully head-on and to stop taking verbal abuse passively. Slowly, he continued walking towards the door. Orange Berry laughed, “That’s right, you keep walking you anti-social wimpy weirdo! Haha!”

The laughs echoed and Rumble found himself stopping at the door. He felt embarrassed from being mocked, from being laughed at for simply walking by. He felt shame for not doing anything and, once again, walking away like a coward. What would Rumble the Valiant do? Certainly not that.

Sniffling, he wiped the dampness that formed under his eye before slipping inside and going over to his seat. The room was nearly empty, which made sense as most of his classmates were outside playing around with friends. Inside, it was only him and Cheerilee, who was busy scribbling some notes onto the blackboard. Rumble took a deep breath, letting his various emotions settle.

Cheerilee turned around and her eyes landed on the lone colt in her room, she smiled. “First one inside again, I see.”

Rumble nodded, “Yep, I’ve gotta...” he cleared his throat before continuing, “gotta get my favorite seat before somepony else takes it.”

“Well I think that’s very good reasoning, Rumble.” Cheerilee said with a wink and smile before turning back to the board where she continued jotting notes. Rumble sighed, knowing that he had just lied, that he didn’t come inside simply to pick his favorite seat. He just didn’t feel like interacting with any of his classmates. Not that he was anti-social, but he always felt awkward, like he’d say the wrong thing in front of others, which would cause him to be seen as even more of a loser than he already was.

The only positive attention he seemed to get was from some of the fillies in the class, most of whom were relatively nice. And, of course, he always got along with Cheerilee. Not that it surprised him much. For some odd reason he always got along with older ponies than he did with ponies his age. He attributed it to all the time he spent around Thunderlane and his friends like Caramel and Big Macintosh and that orange-maned pony from Canterlot, whose name evaded Rumble’s memory.

The colts, however, were a different story. They, like Orange Berry, only seemed to give him attention when they felt inclined mock him. Whether it was because of Rumble being the only colt in the class without a cutie mark- save for the colt that was infamous among the class for picking his nose, Rumble was surprised he hadn’t gotten a booger— shaped cutie mark at this point— or his unique hairstyle, it seemed like he always managed to grab the attention of the jerks, as if he had a sign on his body that read ‘Please Bully Me’ in dark ink.

In fact, the reason that he chose a seat close to the back of the room was so he could easily slip into obscurity without drawing the attention of his less-than friendly classmates. He would be able to drift off into his own little world where he felt more free and less alone. Oftentimes he thought about returning home to see his brother waiting to greet him at the door.

Rumble had just started to doodle the image of Rumble the Valiant flying on a giant hawk in his notebook when the bell rang. Cheerilee trotted over to the entrance to call in the class. One by one ponies filled inside. Rumble averted his eyes. He knew that his classmates talked about him behind his back, most likely wondering why he was such a loner and why he chose to come into the classroom when he could have spent the time before class outside with the others. Cheerilee closed the door before making her way to the front of the room and addressing her students with a typical ‘good morning class’.

To which the class would respond ‘Good morning Miss Cheerilee’ like a herd of sheep going ‘baaa’.

That single response was the most energy the class would show until the bell for recess and lunch rang.

The day progressed as it usually did. Boring lesson in history, boring lesson in english, recess (which was just as boring for Rumble as class), lunch, and now, as the day started to draw to a close, a boring lesson in math.

Rumble lay his chin against the cold surface of his desk, staring up at Cheerilee and pretending to listen to her when really every word that she uttered drifted like a current through Rumble’s ears, coming out of the other end. He knew his future self that would be taking the test would hate his negligence, but at the moment he was too bored to care.

He looked to his right and through the window. It was beautiful outside, the sun tempting him with its radiance and warmth. They should have been out there, he thought. Instead, they found themselves stuck in the claustrophobic schoolhouse, breathing less-than-fresh air and discovering that academic lessons could often be the best cure for insomnia.

Rumble glanced around the room. The average pony in his class was acting like he was, watching their teacher talk with dismissive eyes. Then there were the few diligent students that constantly got high grades on their tests - scribbled down every single point that Cheerilee made. If she started telling a story about her pet cat, they would write down it’s name, what breed it was, and whether it preferred to play with its scratch-post or its squeaky toy.

And finally, there were the students that didn’t even try to hide their apathy. Some flicked their pencils up their desk, watching as it quickly made its ascent before stopping at the top and slowly rolling back down to their waiting hoof. Others whispered inconspicuously with their neighbors— Rumble assumed the whispering fillies were gossipping while the whispering colts were talking about a recent sporting event. Some others had their eyes closed as they slept, either with their head on their desk or sitting up in their chair as tiny snores and streams of drool escaped their open mouths.

Rumble didn’t blame them for being tired, though he had to admit it did show a lack of character. At least he managed to stay awake, even if only just. He didn’t want to seem rude. He liked Miss Cheerilee, even though her classes often had a thrill like that from watching paint dry. So he forced himself to stay awake, no matter how much it stung eyes.

Near the end of class, however, he started to suffer from a classic case of ‘head-bobbing’ syndrome— an ailment leaves one on the brink of falling asleep, only to jolt oneself awake at the last second with a quick jerk of the head.

Rumble’s heart jackhammered against his chest, his breathing was quick and shallow as if he had just been spooked by a phantom. He looked around the class to make sure nopony saw his embarrassing effort to stay awake. He was relieved to see everypony still watching Cheerilee give the lesson. Sighing, he turned his attention to his teacher with a revitalized determination to listen to her lecture. Unfortunately, this determination didn’t last long, and soon he had drifted back into his state of complete boredom. His chin slowly lowered onto the top of his desk as he went back to where he started: barely awake.

He looked towards the front of the room where three fillies were sitting together. He knew them as the Cutie Mark Crusaders, a rambunctious trio that was infamous throughout Ponyville for trying anything and everything to get their cutie marks. Rumble glanced down at his own blank flank, a source of ridicule for the few jerks he knew in his class. He didn’t have many friends, something that wasn’t helped by his near-chronic shyness brought on by the poor reputation he had with his classmates, and, of course, being a blank flank.

He placed a hoof onto the grey fur where his cutie mark should have been. He looked back up at the fillies, all still facing away from him. There had been moments where he contemplated asking to join their group, but he would always chicken out. He thought that they wouldn’t want a colt to become a member, and that he didn’t have anything unique to offer. In his mind, he was very average and never truly stood out from anypony else unless he was getting his face stuffed into a mud puddle or his mane covered in orange jam, one of Orange Berry’s favorite pranks.

But no matter how pointless the idea of approaching the three girls seemed in his mind, for some odd reason, he still felt a pull to do so. At first he wasn’t entirely sure why, but as time progressed he started to think it had something to do with Scootaloo, the orange pegasus Cutie Mark Crusader.

Ever since he laid eyes on that filly he had felt strange, like he was drawn to her. Perhaps it was her spunky attitude and the fact that she wasn’t what Rumble would classify as a “feminine filly”. Perhaps it was her mane-cut, how closely it resembled that of a certain cyan pegasus mare whom Rumble was acquainted with, thanks to her empire-sized ego and her role as one of the elements of harmony.

But perhaps, he thought, it was simply a mix of all of the above. Plus the few times he had spoken with her she seemed like a genuinely kind filly. She always had a bright smile on her face, whenever she wasn’t in a bad mood over school assignments or getting into a heated confrontation with Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon, the school jerks. Her eyes were always so bright and her tomboyish voice with the hint of softness drew him towards her. Sure, she was bit rough and tumble— preferring rock music to the more ‘effeminate’ genres— but all that did was make her more fascinating to him. To Rumble, she was the prime example of a “bad-flank” filly, which he thought was awesome.

His attention remained fixed on her until the bell rang, signaling the end of class. Class was done for the day, and Rumble didn’t learn a single thing other than the fact that his attention span was on par with that of a rodent, and that he had an overwhelming urge to talk to Scootaloo and her friends.

But mostly to Scootaloo.

He stuffed his books and pencils into his saddlebag and pulled it over his back. He looked up to see the trio leisurely exiting the schoolhouse, giggling and smiling the whole way. He envied their cheeriness, and wished he could share a laugh with some friends. Sure he had his brother, but it just wasn’t the same.

Once fully set, Rumble walked out of the tiny building and entered the warm spring day. He held his hoof up to shield his sensitive eyes from the piercing glare of the sun as he scanned the grassy area outside of the schoolhouse in an attempt to find the girls. Finally, he spotted them sitting beneath a large tree, taking advantage of its giant shadow that provided them some cool shelter in the otherwise humid day. They all looked so at ease, making the anxious colt want to approach them even more.

Taking a deep breath - the sweet spring air filling his lungs - and slowly releasing it back to the collective atmosphere, Rumble started to take a few steps towards the tree where the Cutie Mark Crusaders were resting.

I can do this, He thought. Don’t overthink it. They’re just fillies and they’re nice. Plus they are blank flanks, like me. I have nothing to be worried about, they won’t judge me.”

He was about twenty feet away when he suddenly got cold hooves and had to stop. He started to panic, watching as the three friends started to giggle about something. Scootaloo the spoke, but Rumble couldn’t quite make it out. Though the bright smile on her face and the subsequent laughter of Sweetie Belle and Apple Bloom told him that it must’ve been another joke. His cheeks brightened like a pair of maroon lights, all the courage he mustered up left. He was alone - the colt without friends.

Who was I kidding? Rumble looked down. Going up to these girls out of the blue like this without anything to say? This was such a dumb idea.

Deciding to abort his mission, Rumble turned to leave, but his departure was halted by a friendly voice calling out to him. It was a familiar voice with a slight country twang.

“Rumble?” Apple Bloom asked. “Hey! Rumble, over here!”

Oh no, Rumble started to panic, mind racing about possible options on what to do. Should he run? Turn around and face the girls? Walk away and pretend he didn’t hear them?

“Rumble!” This time it was the unmistakable voice of Scootaloo, spunky with a slight raspiness. Upon hearing her beckon to him, Rumble felt all impulse to ignore their call drain from his body, replaced with an even greater urge to respond to them. He turned around to face the three fillies, all smiling big warm smiles and waving to him from under the towering oak.

“Uh...” Rumble said, swallowing in an attempt to rid himself of the lump in his throat. “Hey girls. W-what’s...going on?”

“Nothing much,” Sweetie Belle said with a shrug, “we’re just talking about past attempts to get our cutie marks.”

“Oh...that sounds...fun.” Rumble said, looking from side to side anxiously.

Scootaloo laughed, “Yeah, and it would be even more fun if one of these embarrassing moments actually did what they were intended. But, as you can see,”  she pointed to her bare flank, “they haven’t.” Scootaloo laughed bitterly. Rumble noticed a reddish tinge to her cheeks. She looked up at Rumble with a big smile, her eyes bright and excited.  “Hey are you doing anything later?”

Rumble shook his head. “I wasn’t planning to, why?”

“Well, us three were about to head over to Sugarcube Corner for some shakes. Maybe you’d like to tag along?”

Rumble looked up, eyes wide. Suddenly he felt a surge of confidence rush through his veins as he gazed upon the little pegasus filly that had just invited him to hang out with her and her friends.

“R-really, you’re inviting...me...to hang out with you guys!?!”

“Yeah.” Scootaloo said.

“That’s sweet!” He shouted before realizing how ridiculously desperate he made himself sound. He quickly pulled his excitement back, clearing his throat as he let the feeling subside. He put on as ‘cool’ of a face as possible, like the question wasn’t a big deal.  “I mean...uh...yeah sure. That sounds cool.”

“Great! Come on then, get yer flank over here!” Apple Bloom said, motioning for Rumble to finish his jaunt over to join them under the towering oak.

This is your chance, Rumble. Don’t blow it.

Nervous, but filled with newfound excitement, Rumble started to cautiously make his way over to the three fillies, trying his best not to go too fast, but neither did he want to seem too slow. He was also trying to avoid doing something stupid, such as tripping or appearing to be awkward. The rest of his energy was put to his face. He tried to keep it as neutral as possible, not wanting his inner excitement to reveal itself lest he appear to be a desperate fool.

He was no fool, he was Rumble ‘the Valiant’, or at least he was in the fictional stories his brother had told him. Truth was that he was no knight, he wasn’t brave- he was a blank-flank colt from Ponyville without any discerning traits- at least in his mind. But for the time being, he would do his best to emulate the fictional knight by projecting some form of confidence.

Finally he reached the tree and looked up, his legs wobbling ever so slightly as he gazed upon the faces of the three fillies. They all looked so friendly, so welcoming that Rumble felt his blush return and looked away, listening as the three girls giggled.

Crud

Apple Bloom gave Rumble a reassuring smile. “Aw come on Rumble, it’s okay we ain’t gonna bite ya, none.”

Still somewhat nervous, Rumble nonetheless managed to ease himself and squeak out a small chuckle.

“Hehe, sorry. I’m just...not really used to talking to...” The colt cleared his throat, trying his best to get out the last words. “...fillies.”

He wanted to say that he wasn’t used to anypony talking to him, let alone inviting him to hang out. He never received such friendliness from his classmates and he was tempted to say so. But after some brief consideration all he could do was finish his statement with “fillies.”

The three fillies exchanged confused glances. Fearing that he made himself look like a dunce, Rumble face-hoofed.

Smooth move there, cowpony, he thought with a voice in his head that wasn’t his own, rather it was that of Thunderlane, both in sound and tone- snarky, sarcastic and smooth. Perhaps because his older brother had often said that whenever one of his close friends did something stupid while trying to impress a girl. But he couldn’t linger on the fact that his brother’s voice popped up in his mind rather than his own. He simply looked back up at the fillies to see them staring back at him with the same confusion that they had on their faces prior. Rumble was about to bolt from the area in a panic when Scootaloo started to giggle. He looked up to see her covering her mouth with a hoof, her cheeks a bright red and her teeth shining like ivory in the tree’s shade. The other two fillies then smiled. Thinking that they were laughing at him for sounding so socially awkward, Rumble looked down in shame.

Scootaloo finally managed to slow her laughing down enough to speak. “I can sort of understand that. We won’t bite, though. I promise.”

Rumble’s anxiety vanished, replaced with a great sense of relief. He looked up, a small smile creeping onto face. He allowed himself to join in the laughter - even if it was at his expense. He nervously rubbed the back of his head and looking from side to side.

“O-okay...I mean...I know you guys wouldn’t bite I just- ”

Apple Bloom stuck her hoof out to silence him before he dug himself too much of a hole.

“Hey, don’t sweat it,” she said, “Now come on, are we just gonna keep lollygaggin’, or are we gonna go to Sugarcube Corner to get some shakes and plan out some crusadin’?”

With that, the four ponies headed off. Rumble initially let himself drift behind, still feeling like too much of an outsider to deserve a spot in the middle of the group. But his plan was thwarted when Apple Bloom put a hoof behind his back and dragged him forward so he was directly in-between her and Scootaloo. Before Rumble even had the chance to get his bearings, the little filly leaned in from his right began to blitz him with questions.

“So, Rumble, yer a blank-flank as well.” Apple Bloom said, gesturing to the colt’s cutie mark-less bottom. His cheeks turned red.

“Erm, I...I guess so. I mean, yes I am.”

“Well then, how would you like to join our group?” Sweetie Belle asked from his left.

“Yeah!” Scootaloo said, buzzing slightly through the air. “You could be the first colt Cutie Mark Crusader!”

“It’s perfect!” Apple Bloom said, “Not only would we have another member, we would also be more diverse! We could even advertise ourselves.” Apple Bloom cleared her throat, “ ‘We are the Cutie Mark Crusaders- Ponies of Both Genders Workin’ Hard to Get Our Cutie Marks.’ “

All three fillies hoof-bumped in triumph while Rumble’s blushing intensified. He imagined he was near indistinguishable from a tomato at this point.

Scootaloo turned towards the red-faced colt, “So, what do you say? Wanna be the fourth Cutie Mark Crusader?”

Rumble’s eyes widened at this request as sudden excitement flowed through him at the request. No matter how hard he tried to act completely calm, it was a daunting task. The friendliness displayed by the three fillies was unlike anything he had ever experienced. Not only because they were of the opposite gender, but because his past tendencies of being reserved and quiet.

This was only made worse by the fact that nopony seemed to make any effort to get to know him. To most he was just another body in the room. To some others he was more, but only because they saw him as a punching-bag.

But these three girls expressed genuine interest in him without fully knowing him. They were treating him like he was the new student and they were tasked with showing him around. It was like they were determined to make him join their little clique. This, however, was different because it was voluntary, and that only made the situation for Rumble even more sweet. Yet it was still a bit scary to a colt like Rumble that had very little experience interacting with the opposite gender.

Well, perhaps clique wasn’t the correct term - that would be best suited for snobby, elitist groups formed by fillies like Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon. Their impulsive openness did slightly confuse Rumble, especially since they never asked him to hang out with them before. But he decided that it was best not to question the fact that his number of friends had just grown three-fold.

Rumble finally answered. “Sure, I would love to! As...as long as it really is okay with you three.”

“Of course it is. Why would we invite you if it wasn’t?” Sweetie Belle chuckled. “The more the merrier, right girls?”

Both Apple Bloom and Scootaloo nodded.

“Well...awesome. Thanks guys, I really appreciate it!” Rumble said. With that, the group continued its trot off to Sugarcube Corner, Rumble grinning from ear-to-ear the entire way.

Reunion at the Bar

Chapter 3: Reunion at the Bar

Thunderlane stood alone in the rank bathroom, the smell of hard cider, vomit and Celestia-knows-what lingering all around him as he stared into the cracked mirror. The green walls and sticky floors only added to the repugnant nature of the room. The lighting was rather dim, though bright enough to allow the stallion to gaze upon his reflection.

A bruise he had gotten the night before stood out profoundly. Even his black fur was not enough to hide its lumpy texture and deep purple tinge. He pressed both of his hooves into the sticky countertop and leaned towards the mirror to get a better view of his face.

Heavy bags sagged beneath his eyes like drapes. Ugly cuts and bruises peeked out from behind his dark fur. He looked like a complete mess.

His mind drifted back to the numerous times that his father had pounded on the door late at night to be let in. He wished that he could leave him outside so he wouldn’t have to put up with the painful struggle, but he never did. His nagging conscience wouldn’t let him.

Sighing, he stepped away from the mirror and left the bathroom to find himself back in the main area of The Stud Stool — one of Ponyville’s most popular bars. It was the primary place that Thunderlane and his friends would go to hang out at after work. Otherwise, nothing made it stand out from any other bar.  The air was grey and smokey, giving the entire place a melancholy feel. Ponies of all walks of life sat at the spaced stools and tables drinking hard apple cider and smoking noxious pipes to their hearts’ content. Thunderlane could tell that most of the partons had just got off of work: the business ponies still had their ties on and the construction ponies were glistening in sweat. They all had the expressions of individuals trying to clear their heads after their daily agony. At least that’s the reason Thunderlane believed many ponies drank.

He envied them with every strand of fur on his body. No matter how many drinks he would manage to pound with his friends, it wouldn’t be enough. He would still feel stressed out because, unlike everypony else in the bar, his agony didn’t come during the day as he worked his job clearing the skies of Ponyville.

It greeted him at night.

He trotted over to the bar where his two friends were sitting: the brown earth pony named Caramel and the blue Wonderbolt pegasus named Soarin. Thunderlane let out a sigh, disappointed that more of their friends couldn’t join them.

Caramel looked plum tuckered out, a glass of soda placed in front of him. Thunderlane always thought it was strange how his earth pony friend never drank alcoholic beverages. He would vocalize his confusion through some playful mockery of his ‘nerdy pal’. But beside the drinking, it was still easy to find things to make fun of Caramel for. Out of all of Thunderlane’s friends, Caramel was by far the smallest and least testosterone-fueled. While they found recreation in working out and drinking, Caramel preferred writing and reading, and watching Coltipher Nolan movies (and, to his shame, others directed by Marechael Bray).

Thunderlane did credit him as being the most book-smart of his friends, though his street-smarts left much to be desired. He knew a great deal about Equestrian History, but when it came to knowledge of the real world, he was more gullible than a school-aged filly.

Sitting across from Caramel was the much more toned and ‘manly’ Soarin’, who sat listening to his tan friend speak while gingerly nursing his cider. He was almost the complete opposite of Caramel. A heart-throb and jockish, while not the most scholarly pony around.

He wasn’t dumb, but like Thunderlane he didn’t put too much emphasis on book smarts and focused all of his energy on what he felt was most important — pursuing the passion for flying he had since he was a young colt.

Thunderlane might have given Soarin’ some gentle ribbing — nothing out of the ordinary between two male friends — but he never did so in a patronizing manner like he did with Caramel. He admired his Wonderbolt friend too much, and not only because of his fame and insane flying ability, but also because of what he saw as a “grip on the outside world”, unlike the naive earth pony that was drinking soda in the bar.

Soarin’ was careful not to drink too much. He already told Thunderlane how he wanted to be in prime condition for the Wonderbolts show that he was going to be a part of the following day. Even as he ascended to fame, Soarin’ managed to stay humble and always made time for his friends when possible.

On a rare occasion, while hanging out, Thunderlane and Soarin’ would get stopped by a mob fans that recognized the sky blue pegasus from the Wonderbolts. Most times if he didn’t wear his spandex blue suit nopony would recognize him, which was why he was naked at the bar. He wanted to enjoy his time with his friends, and that meant he needed to be undercover so nopony would interrupt them. So now, the unsuspecting patrons and bartenders saw him as any other pegasus, and that’s how he liked it.

Soarin’ wasn’t much of a glory hound, and the less public attention that was drawn to him, the more comfortable he was. He even hated signing autographs. Not because his fans were annoying, he appreciated all of his fans, but because he would always get the worst hoof-cramps after.

Thunderlane was so caught up in his own thoughts that he nearly bumped into a waitress carrying drinks. He excused himself, asking if she was alright to which she said yes. He then continued over to where Caramel was busy talking with Soarin’.

“It’s nice to finally see you again,” Caramel said to Soarin’, “I’ve been waiting for a chance to hang out, but you’re always so busy with your Wonderbolts stuff.”

“Yeah, we have a lot of performances. And Spitfire works us to the bone at practice. It’s crazy.” Soarin’ sipped his cider.

“Oh Soarin’, I’m sure that Spitfire works you to your bone.” Thunderlane butted in, taking a seat besides Soarin’ with a snarky grin. “If ya know what I mean.”

“Can it, Thunderpants.” Soarin’ laughed. Thunderlane grimaced. That nickname had stuck with him since he was a colt. No matter how hard he tried, he could never evade it. It was just too easy of a mocking nickname not to call somepony. “Just because we’re dating doesn’t mean we spend all our time bucking.”

“It doesn’t?” Thunderlane asked with a ‘huh’ look on his face. He enjoyed teasing Soarin’, especially when it was also giving him praise for bagging such a sexy mare. Caramel even laughed a little at Thunderlane’s swipes at their Wonderbolt friend.

Soarin rolled his eyes. “Anyway...with all of the practicing and working at the Academy to bring up new recruits, we can hardly find time to catch up with old friends. And with the tour we’re on now, that time is even less. Luckily for me the show we’re putting on tomorrow is here in Ponyville so I can hang with you guys for a little bit. But after that we’re heading off to Fillydelphia to put on a show there, and then Las Pegasus, and so on.”

“Dang, that’s rough.” Thunderlane said.

“You can say that again. It’s like a never-ending train of exhaustion. I swear, once this tour is over I’m gonna sleep for a week straight.” Soarin’ shrugged. “But I guess I can’t complain. It isn’t easy being famous.” He raised his mug to take a sip of his cider.

“Easy there, let’s not get carried away. You aren’t that famous, buddy.” Thunderlane said teasingly.

Soarin’ nearly spit his drink from laughing. “Oh please, featherbrain. You wish that you had a sixtieth of the popularity that I do.”

“Nope. Believe it or not, I am perfectly content with the level of attention I get now.” Thunderlane said with steady conviction, though he knew it was a lie.

“So you don’t envy my life at all? My relationship with Spitfire? My massive salary? Ponies of all background cheering you on?” Soarin’s grin widened, clearly having fun acting the part of an arrogant celebrity.

“What, you mean all those ponies that recognize you because you fly around in a tight spandex suit? Chances are mares are more interested in your outlined flank than in your actual flying ability.” Thunderlane shot back.

“Fame is fame, buddy. I ain’t picky. And seeing as you just attended our academy, it seems you’re pretty eager to wear the spandex yourself.” Soarin’ took another swig of cider from his mug.

“Buck you, I’m there for my need for speed, not the tights or the shallow fame.” Thunderlane spat, drinking his cider. He lowered his mug and let out a sigh before turning to Caramel, who stared out at the bar, holding his glass of soda in his hooves. Thunderlane couldn’t help but snicker. “So, you enjoying your soda there, chief?”

Caramel sighed and turned to Thunderlane, giving him a small smile. It was an expectant smile, as if Caramel knew exactly the direction that the conversation was headed in.

“Yeah, it’s fantastic,” he cleared his throat, “so much better than cider.”

“Come on, Caramel. Why don’t you drink? One drink isn’t gonna kill you.” Soarin’ said.

“Yeah. Are you even a real stallion?”

Caramel closed his eyes and let out an irritated sigh, “Yes Thunder, I’m a real stallion.”

“Are you sure? Because sometimes I think if I look under your tale I wouldn’t be able to distinguish it from a mare’s.” Thunderlane laughed.

Caramel rolled his eyes and pressed his hoof to his forehead, “I just don’t want to drink, okay? Why is it so important to you? Does it impact your life in any way?”

“When you’re hanging out with us it does.” Thunderlane continued.

“How so?”

“Ponies see you not drinking and it makes us all look bad.”

“Care to elaborate, Mr. Mohawk?”

“Certainly. Now, look at the situation from the outside. It’s Friday afternoon, and you’re sitting in a bar after a day of hard work. The whole place is swimming with mares with flanks in all shapes and sizes, and you stay at this counter,” Thunderlane tapped the hard-wood surface to emphasize his point,  “nursing your soda like a ten year old that’s out at dinner with his parents. You don’t think that seems the least bit strange?” Thunderlane said, shaking his head in disapproval. “Dude, you are never gonna get into a relationship if you don’t stop acting like a little foal.”

Caramel stared for a brief moment before a shimmer of confidence rippled across his face and he broke out into a euphoric grin. “That’s funny you say that Thunderlane, because I am actually in a relationship with somepony.”

Both Thunderlane and Soarin’, who had been drinking their cider, spat their drinks out in amber streams from shock, before turning to the earth pony, shouting a barrage of “what!?!” and “who!?!” at him. Soarin’s voice was full of excitement, clearly happy for his friend, while Thunderlane’s was filled with plain shock.

Caramel smiled, “Well if you two absolutely must know.” He took a gingerly sip of his soda, let out a sigh and turned to his friends, “For the past few weeks I have been dating Applejack.”

Soarin’ nodded, still in shock but he seemed to believe the notion. Thunderlane, however, stared slack-jawed at his friend as if he just told them that the world was flat and the grass was purple.

“The farmer?” He asked, staring at his lucky friend with a set of wagon wheel-sized eyes. “That...beautiful mare...is dating you?”

Caramel nodded with a grin. “Eeyup.” He said in an exaggerated county accent.

“Wow, congrats Caramel,” Soarin’ said, raising his mug as if making a toast, “very well done, you should be proud of yourself.”

Before Caramel could have the chance to thank Soarin’ for his kind words, Thunderlane let his disbelief get the better of him.

“Wait. Wait. Hold on a second,” he said, holding out his hooves in an attempt to get everypony to stop talking. “Out of each and every single attractive, single stallion in Ponyville, she... Applejack... arguably one of the most beautiful ponies in town... and the Element of Honesty... chose to date you?” Thunderlane said ‘you’ in the most condescending way possible, and from the look Caramel was giving him, it was clear he understood his pegasus friend’s feelings at the moment, and he was not particularly happy about it.

“Yes, that’s what I just said.” Caramel muttered, a hint of annoyance in his voice. “What’s the problem?”

“Why in Celestia’s name would she do that!?!”

“Thunderlane, take it easy.” Soarin’ said.

Caramel scowled, clearly starting to get annoyed with Thunderlane’s condescending attitude towards him.

“Hey man, you know I’m starting to feel insulted.” Caramel muttered. Soarin’ looked down in shame while Thunderlane just kept staring. “The truth is that she’s kind and sweet and doesn’t see me as any less of a stallion. You see, unlike you, she thinks it’s cool that I don’t drink. She respects the decisions I make as I respect hers. And she finds me interesting, believe it or not, what with all of the horseshoe championships that I’ve won.”

“Horseshoe championships?” Thunderlane asked, feigning confusion as if he didn’t know his friend’s special talent.

Caramel stared for a second, his lip trembling as if he couldn’t believe Thunderlane would ask that.

“Are you kidding?” He asked. Thunderlane remained silent, wanting to make Caramel believe that he seriously didn’t know that his friend was a champion at the sport. Fortunately, Caramel’s gullible nature continued to make Thunderlane’s job of mocking him easier. He rolled his eyes and pointed towards his flank where the image of three horse-shoes were imprinted, “I’m one of the top five horse-shoe throwers in Equestria. How could you not know that? I talk about my competitions all the time.”

“I gotta be honest with you, whenever you open your mouth to talk, my mind shuts down.” Thunderlane said, grinning.

“Then what about this?” Caramel pointed to his cutie mark of three blue horseshoes, “What in the hay did you think these stood for? Trotting?”

Thunderlane’s eyes widened as he continued his act, “Oh that’s your cutie mark? I thought those were just bruises leftover from nights you let stallions rut you.”

Caramel seemed shocked for a moment before his intellect caught up with him.

“You were just kidding about not knowing my special talent, weren’t you?”

“Possibly,” Thunderlane said with the slyest of smirks.

Caramel’s face fell and he frowned, “Ha-ha, very funny. Jerk.”

“It’s not my fault you believe whatever you hear.” Thunderlane laughed before getting back on topic, “But seriously, I really don’t understand this whole Applejack thing.”

“What part don’t you understand?”

“Well, let me put it to you as bluntly as I can.” Thunderlane cleared his throat, “Applejack is hot, and she chose you. In this reality something like that should not be possible.”

“Now why do you say that?” Caramel’s voice started to rise.

“Um guys, maybe we should—” Soarin’ tried to qualm the situation, but was cut off by Caramel.

“No, no Soarin’. I want to hear what Thunderlane has to say,” Caramel waved his hoof, “go on. Elaborate your point.”

“It’s because you’re immature.” Thunderlane spat. The words stung with guilt as they passed his lips, yet he said it with such poise it was as if he was reading off facts in a debate rather than making an objective, albeit insulting, statement about his friend. He leaned closer to Caramel so their muzzles were three inches apart. Out of the corner of his eye, Thunderlane could see Soarin’ fidgeting in his seat, but he ignored it and continued to lecture Caramel. “You’re like a little colt trapped in a grown stallion’s body. And even then your body is more like a blend between a mare and a stallion! Let me ask you, do you even know how...it...works?”

Thunderlane even surprised himself with his jerkiness. He immediately felt regret, but his stubborn pride forced him to maintain a glare and prevent himself from apologizing from his clearly hurt friend. Caramel stared at Thunderlane for a brief moment before he reached into his pocket and pulled out some bits, tossing them onto the counter.

“You’re a judgemental jerk, Thunderlane, and I don’t feel like listening to you insinuate that I’m a loser.” He spat before standing up and looking over at Soarin’, “Good luck tomorrow man, I’ll be there with AJ. We’ll be cheering for you.” Caramel nodded.

“Come on, Caramel,” Soarin’ said, but his friend simply placed his payment of bits onto the counter, shot Thunderlane one more dirty look, and made his way towards the exit.

“Caramel, don’t leave! Please! Dude!” Soarin’ pleaded, but Caramel didn’t listen as he stormed out of the bar. Once Caramel had left, Thunderlane rolled his eyes.

“What a putz.” He sipped from his mug when he felt somepony smack him on the back of the head. Clutching the place where he was struck, Thunderlane turned to see Soarin’ glaring at him.

“What the hay is your problem? Talking to Caramel like that. He found a great mare and you’re putting him down for it. That’s beyond pitiful, man, especially from you.”

“Chill Soarin’, look I’m just trying to toughen him up—”

“By calling him immature? By questioning his stallion-hood? That’s not toughening somepony up, that’s just being mean.”

Thunderlane opened his mouth to speak, but stopped. It suddenly dawned on him how much of a jerk he was being.

“Okay, maybe I went a little overboard. But I’m... I’ve just been in a bad mood recently, all right?”

“Clearly. But that’s still no reason to treat your friend like yesterday’s trash.”

“No, I... I guess it isn’t.” Thunderlane sighed, conceding the argument to his friend. He looked down at his hooves for a moment before lifting his head to see Soarin’s critical glare softening slightly, though he maintained a somewhat critical expression.

“Thunderlane, what’s eating at you?”

Thunderlane shrugged. “I don’t know.”

“Yes you do, man. Don’t lie to me.”

Thunderlane let out a sigh. “I guess I’m upset about life... about being–”

“Single?” Soarin’ completed his statement. Thunderlane bit his lip. Soarin’ was always good at understanding a pony’s psyche simply by watching the way they acted, or by looking into their eyes. Thunderlane always felt that had he not become a Wonderbolt, and didn’t loathe academia (and reading in general), Soarin’ could have become a psychiatrist. His personality was perfect for it, and he could read ponies like the books he never did.

“Maybe. I mean, it isn’t just that. There’s more to why I’m in a rotten mood. But still. I... I think I need a marefriend. A pretty one. I feel like I’m falling behind. Like the world is passing me by and I’m stuck in a tar-pool like some prehistoric beast.”

Soarin’ placed a reassuring hoof onto his friend's shoulder. “Relax Thunder, it’ll happen. You just need to be patient. Someday you’ll find the perfect mare for you.”

Thunderlane stubbornly pulled away, “That’s easy to say Mister “I’m dating the Captain of the Wonderbolts.”

“Yeah but my relationship with Spitfire wasn’t rushed,” Soarin’ explained, raising his mug of cider, “our relationship budded from us spending so much time together on the Wonderbolts. We worked out together, we went to the same parties, heck we saw movies together on weekends. It was bound to happen eventually.” Soarin’ drank from his mug while Thunderlane looked away, staring down at his own mug, now completely empty, with regret.

“But I don’t have a mare that I see day in and day out. All I have is work, you guys, and Rumble.”

Soarin’ put down his mug and turned back to Thunderlane. “Speaking of Rumble, how is the little guy anyway?”

“He’s fine.”

“Has he learned how to fly yet?”

“A little. He participated in this thing Rainbow Dash organized to get water to the reservoir up in Cloudsdale, but he still needs to work on his speed and consistency.” Thunderlane said, making a mental note to take him to the park over the weekend so they could spend some quality brother-to-brother time further improving on his flying..

“Yeah, Spitfire told me all about that. I heard you were sick during it.”

“Yeah, I got the feather flu.”

“That must’ve been rough.”

Thunderlane nodded, letting out a sigh as he remembered the terrible feeling of being confined to a hospital when he wanted to be flying. Not that the brutish Rainbow Dash would believe him, as she always called him out for being lazy. There was never a more perfect example of the cloud calling the snow white.

Soarin’ continued. “Anyway...did you tell Rumble about...you know...”

Thunderlane looked up at his friend, raising an eyebrow. “Tell him what?”

Soarin’ scoffed, “Don’t act stupid, man. You know what I’m talking about. His father.” He pointed to Thunderlane. “Your father. Have you talked about him with Rumble or are you still perpetuating the lie that everything is sunshine and daisies at your house?”

Listening to his friend talk about his father, Thunderlane unconsciously placed a hoof onto his cheek, right over one of his fresh bruises. Flinching from pain, he brought his hoof down and shook his head.

“I can’t do it.”

“You’re going to have to,” Soarin’ said.

“How can I? He’s so young, and learning the truth would break him.”

“You have to tell him eventually, and the longer you wait, the more it will hurt when he does find out.”

Thunderlane glanced up at Soarin’. “Who says he has to find out?”

“He’s going to eventually,” Soarin’ said, his face the most serious it had been all night. “Even if you don’t tell him yourself, he’ll find a way. You can’t hide the truth from him forever.”

“I’ll try.” Thunderlane grumbled back before looking from side to side, slamming his empty mug onto the countertop. “Can I get another tall cider please? Celestia above I’m not even remotely tipsy yet!”

The barkeep rolled his eyes and trotted over, taking the mug and filling it to the brim so pearly froth dribbled over the sides.

“That’s right. Don’t hold back any. I can hold my liquor wonderfully!” Thunderlane said as the barkeep walked back over behind the counter.

“Look, I know, I’m no expert...” Soarin’ started.

“You think?” Thunderlane hissed as the barkeep placed his now-full mug down in front of him. “How could you be, you don’t have a sibling. Heck, you don’t live with anyone other than your stupid cat.”

Thunderlane started to chug the cider like he was in a competition of some kind. Deep down he hoped the alcohol in the mug would wash away his worries and leave him content.

“First off, leave Miss Mittens out of this. She has done nothing to you besides rub up against your leg when you stop by my house.”

If only a mare would do that to me. Thunderlane thought.

“And secondly,” Soarin’ continued, “while it may be true that I don’t know what it’s like to have a sibling, that doesn’t mean I’m wrong in this case. I guarantee you that anypony you ask will agree with me that you have got to tell him the truth.”

Thunderlane, unable to contain his rage anymore, slammed the mug to the hard countertop. Soarin’ jumped back a bit, almost falling off of his stool. Everypony in the bar turned to look in their direction as Thunderlane leaned towards his celebrity friend, eyes narrowing.

“What truth?” He growled, continuing to stare into his friend’s horrified eyes, “The truth that his father is a good-for-nothing drunk that comes home every night reeking of alcohol, ready and willing to beat the snot out of me? That his own father, a pony he looks up to for reasons I still can’t understand, is nothing more than a violent loser that wallows in the past and can’t seem to get it through his bucking skull that it’s time to move on from his wife leaving him and focus on raising his youngest son correctly? Is that what I should tell my little brother, Soarin’? Is that the ‘truth’ he should know?”

Soarin’ stared at Thunderlane in shock, as did the entire bar. The silence was bone-chilling. A lone cough had the impact of a blood-curdling scream.

Still angry, and still too stubborn to apologize for his outburst and admit that he overreacted, Thunderlane grabbed a napkin and wiped the saliva from his mouth. He then tossed his payment onto the counter and stormed out of the bar, cursing under his breath as the door closed behind him and separated him from everypony’s accusing stare.

Thunderlane trotted under the bright rays of sunlight, which was excruciatingly bright for the pegasus after being stuck in the stuffy bar. He made his way through town at a fairly hasty pace until he was certain that he was far enough away that nopony was following him after his outburst. His scowl remained, but slowed his pace. His vision got cloudy as tears filled his eyes. He continued on until he found himself in the park. Sitting down on one of the available benches, he leaned back and stared up at the sky as various pegasi soared above him.

Part of him wanted to join them, to unfurl his wings and take flight just to feel the rush of freedom he always felt. It was one of the only things that was able to help him forget his troubles. But his frustration was so overbearing that he was unable to do so. So instead he remained sitting on the park bench, lowering his head to look around as ponies of all walks of life passed by without giving him a second glance. He was out in public, yet he still felt isolated from the world. He was outside on a sunny day, yet he felt depressed. He regretted how he treated Caramel, he regretted not finding a very special somepony as he had. But more than either of these, he regretted hiding the truth for Rumble as long as he had.

He knew Soarin’ was right, and that no matter how hard he worked to continue the perpetual facade of happiness, his little brother would eventually discover the truth. He just didn’t want to believe it. Ever since he had started telling the bedtime stories, he had escaped into his own fantasies through the ones he created for Rumble. It was like during that forty-five minute window, from nine-fifteen to ten at night, he could lose himself in the moment and embrace fiction like he never had at any other point. It was the only thing keeping him sane, relatively speaking, and the only thing saving Rumble’s innocence.

Knowing that he would never muster the courage to be honest with his brother, Thunderlane settled for letting out a sigh and closing his eyes. The Sun soothingly warmed his fur as he began to picture himself relaxing in a made-up paradise, a golden beach bordering a crystal blue sea. Rumble on his right side while a beautiful mare sat behind him with her hooves wrapped around his torso and her lips gently pressing against his neck.

He spent about ten minutes in his imagined paradise before he opened his eyes, hopped off the bench and made his way home so he could meet Rumble and continue to lie to him through fun and games.

Four Blank-Flanks and a Chocolate Shake

Chapter 4: Four Blank-Flanks and a Chocolate Shake

Rumble and the Cutie Mark Crusaders arrived at Sugarcube corner, their stomachs empty and growling in need of some tasty satisfaction— especially Rumble who had hardly eaten any of his lunch and was now visualizing a delicious, frothy shake. His mouth began to water as his environment teased his senses. Even if it wasn’t the first time he’d been to the tiny but well-renowned, bakery, he never grew weary or unimpressed by the scents and sights inside. The air was sweet with the scent of baked goods freshly pulled from the oven. Pink segments of the wall were covered in images of candies that looked almost as delicious as the real thing. A small growl escaped the young colt’s stomach and he placed a hoof onto it and gave it a little pat. .

Pinkie Pie and Mrs. Cake were busy working behind the flour-dusted counter. Pinkie Pie was frosting a fresh batch of cupcakes— smoke still billowing from the curved tops of the pastries as if candles had been stuck on them— while Ms. Cake was standing at the register. They looked up and saw the group of colts and fillies enter their shop. Pinkie Pie hopped up and down as her hoof flailed wildly side to side like she was saying hello to an estranged family member.

Ms. Cake was less bubbly in her greeting, but was still friendly and gave the group a genuinely warm smile. He had seen the older mare often, but never really went out of his way to talk with her. Even when he did come to the bakery with Thunderlane, he would let his older sibling do most of the talking and while standing by his side in silence.

“Hello girls,” Mrs. Cake before she took notice of Rumble, “oh and I see you brought a new friend along with you today. How’s it doing, Rumble?”

“It’s going fine, ma’am,” Rumble answered.

“Oh, well I’m happy to hear that,” Mrs. Cake said before addressing the entire group. “Now then, what brings you in today? The usual?”

“We’re gonna brainstorm some more ideas on how to get our Cutie Marks.” Scootaloo answered.

“So it is the usual,” Ms. Cake said with a chuckle, turning to Rumble with. “Does that mean you a part of the Cutie Mark Crusaders?” Rumble opened his mouth to answer when Scootaloo jumped in to answer.

“Yep! He’s the first colt to join!” Scootaloo said before she realized that she interrupted Rumble. “Oops!” She turned to look at her friend, “Sorry I got a little carried away.”

Rumble smiled. He couldn’t help but notice how cute Scootaloo looked when she was apologetic. Her ears flattened ever so slightly and her mouth curled up into a shallow u-shaped smile. He knew that he could never be annoyed with her enthusiasm.

“Don’t worry, it’s...it’s cool.” Scootaloo’s guilt seemed to leave as soon as Rumble said these words.

“Well that sounds great. The more the merrier.” Mrs. Cake said with a small laugh. “So, tell me did anything exciting happen in school today?” Those last words made Rumble cringe a bit as they reminded him of something a mother might ask.

What his mother might ask, had she still lived with him.

Apple Bloom let out a small sigh and answered Mrs. Cake’s question. “Nope. It was borin’ as usual”

“Well you must have learned something that piqued your interest.” Mrs. Cake asked, leaning forward on the counter. “

Apple Bloom shook her head. “The stuff Miss Cheerilee is teachin’ us just doesn’t stick. It’s all pointless stuff like history and english and stupid mathematics. It’s so dull and dumb and Ah’ll hardly be usin’ any of it in mah life. It’s drivin’ me up the walls like a cat in a barrel!” The filly said with great frustration, pulling at the bow in her mane.

“Now Apple Bloom, I’m sure that you’d find those subjects fascinating if you just gave them a chance, and many subjects can be more useful in real life than you think. Why, Mr. Cake and I started dating because we both loved poetry.”

Rumble imagined the lengthy, boring, abstract poems Miss Cheerilee had made given them to read and analyze, picking every little detail apart and trying to squeeze every ounce of potential meaning from it. It was like performing brain surgery on an ant.

If he wanted imagination, he could always go hang out with Thunderlane. He didn’t need poetry.

The language was unbearably lofty, as if the writer was a walking, talking thesaurus that wrote the poem with the sole purpose of showing off his special talent of regurgitating fancy words. But before he could become too disgusted at the thought of those dreadful pieces of literature, he noticed the girls’ reactions. Apple Bloom shuddered as if hit by a gust of cool wind, Sweetie Belle let out a small mouse-like ‘eep’, and Scootaloo stuck her tongue out and let out an obnoxious ‘blech’.

Rumble liked Scootaloo’s reaction best.

“Oh now, don’t be like that girls...and Rumble.”  Mrs. Cake continued. Rumble blushed from embarrassment from being tacked like some outsider that was just remembered at the last second. “I understand that poetry isn’t everypony’s thing, but for Carrot and me, it was our love, and our passion. Well, outside of baking, of course. I still remember our very first date. We went to a poetry reading at the Millard Pond. Or was it the Mildred Pond? Mallard? Eh, anyway the theme was Romanticism and there were so many beautiful poems all based on love and paradise. It was a great night.”

Mrs. Cake stared off with a soft smile on her face as if lost in the moment. Apple Bloom cleared her throat and Mrs.Cake shook her head and looked down at us with a blush in her cheeks. “Oh my, I’m sorry. Listen to me blather on like some old retired mare. Anyway, are you eating here?”

“Yes, ma’am.” Sweetie Belle piped up, her voice cracking slightly.

“Well then all of our booths are empty.” Mrs. Cake pointed towards the row of windows where three empty booths were situated, “Why don’t you pick one and I’ll have Pinkie Pie take your orders in a few minutes?”

After giving the female half of the Cake couple a unanimous ‘thank you’, the four Cutie Mark Crusaders trotted over to an open booth near a window, giving them a pristine view of the street and town outside.

Sweetie Belle and Apple Bloom slid into the seats on one side while Scootaloo took half of the other, patting the cushion beside her to tell Rumble that there was space for him to sit. Rumble swallowed hard, both excited and nervous about being so close to the filly. Cautiously, as if he were about to get onto a roller coaster, Rumble took his place beside Scootaloo.

Pinkie Pie hopped over with a cheerful smile on her face, and handed the group the menus. Rumble knew all about Pinkie Pie. Then again, who didn’t. She was the pony that knew everypony and, in turn, everypony knew her. She was wild and excitable, and Rumble always felt an odd mix of annoyance and admiration for her. She was often over-the-top, but her cheerful demeanor was so contagious that whenever anypony was around it was nearly impossible for them to keep from smiling.

No matter what mood he was in, whether he had just gotten a bad grade or had just been bullied or had learned that his father landed back in the hospital from falling down— something that seemed to happen way too often— Rumble always felt better when he was around the pink pony.

Plus the air around her always smelled like frosting. Rumble liked that.

As Pinkie bounced away, the four ponies opened their menus and began looking for what they were planning to order. But Rumble’s attention didn’t stay on the menu for long. Instead, it slowly drifted to Scootaloo, as did his eyes. Rumble couldn’t stop himself from staring her. Ever since he and the three fillies made their way towards the bakery, he found himself focusing less and less on Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle, and more on Scootaloo.

He never completely ignored the other two ponies in his presence. He still spoke with them, and they were friendly and accepting enough. They were definitely fillies he hoped to hang out with more. But he couldn’t shake the apparent draw that he felt towards Scootaloo. It was like he was a trout and she a fisher’s hook, piercing his lip and dragging him towards the suffocating surface.

His stomach started to feel strange again. The butterflies that had vanished on the way to the bakery had returned in full force. He found himself blushing profusely as he discreetly peered over the side of his two-fold menu to look at Scootaloo beside him, who was so buried in the menu it looked like she was trying to dive into it. Her hoof was placed on the picture of the chocolate shake and she licked her lips as a tiny bit of drool slipped down her chin and landed on the table. Rumble could have been grossed out, but he wasn’t.

Clearly somepony likes chocolate. Maybe I should buy her some. He started to think about how her intense staring at the menu was the most adorable thing he’d ever seen. Once he became conscious of the fact that he was ogling her in a ‘lovey-dovey-goo-goo’ way, he snapped himself out of it. He sighed and gave his head a few light taps for good measure. Calm down big guy.

“Shoot, Ah can’t decide what shake to get,” Apple Bloom said, putting a hoof to her chin in thought. “Everythin’ looks so darned tasty.”

“Don’t you usually get strawberry?” Sweetie Belle asked.

“I’m surprised you don’t get it apple-flavored, Apple Bloom,” Scootaloo laughed.

“Exactly. That’s the point. Ah want to get something different. Shake things up a little. Ya know?”

“You mean like what we’re doing with Rumble?” Scootaloo said, turning to Rumble and giving him a little wink and nudge.

“You mean by having a colt in our club?” Sweetie Belle asked.

Scootaloo shook her head. “No. I mean by having a wickedly awesome colt in our club.” Scootaloo said. Rumble smiled back and looked away to hide the flush in his cheeks.

She just called me awesome! I can’t believe it! I’ve never been called awesome before! This is the greatest day of my life!

Apple Bloom looked at the menu. “Now Ah’m stuck between mint chocolate-chip and the fudge blast. On one hoof Ah like chocolate, but on the other Ah like mint.” Apple Bloom scratched her chin, “Hmm...decisions, decisions.”

“You can’t ever go wrong with chocolate!” Scootaloo suggested.

Apple Bloom shook her head. “No offence Scoots, but when it comes to chocolate yer a bit biased.”

“Forget biased. You’re obsessed.” Sweetie Belle added.

Scootaloo shrugged, “Hey, what can I say? I love the stuff.” Scootaloo raised a hoof to the air and placed her other hoof over her heart as if she was praising something divine. “Chocolate is Celestia’s greatest gift to ponykind.” She said in an unnecessarily dramatic manner.

“What about raising the Sun for Equestria every morning?” Sweetie Belle asked.

“The Sun is overrated. I’ll take darkness in exchange for a lifetime supply of chocolate, anytime.”

“I’m surprised you don’t get fudge blast.” Sweetie Belle said, looking over at her pegasus friend. “You love chocolate and it has even more chocolate than the regular chocolate shake has.”

“Meh, I’m fine sticking with plain old chocolate, fudge blast is a little too sweet for me,” Scootaloo said, licking her lips.

You’re too sweet for me. Rumble’s eyes widened and he shook his head to clear his mind of the odd thought when Scootaloo continued. Stop it Rumble. Don’t you DARE get sappy. You’re a colt! And Scootaloo thinks you’re awesome and cool and....oh sweet Celestia her eyes....”

“Yep, chocolate is a-okay on its own.” Scootaloo turned to Rumble. “What about you? What shake are you getting?”

“Um...” Rumble said, realizing that he had spent all of his designated ‘menu’ time lost in his own thoughts and transfixed by the pretty pegasus sitting next to him. Her beautiful violet eyes gazing at him, making him even more antsy. Quickly, without a second thought, he said the first flavor that came to mind, the flavor Scootaloo ordered. “I’ll get the...um...chocolate!” Rumble slammed his hoof into the tabletop, “Yeah, bring out a chocolate shake as well!”

“I knew you were a cool cat! Chocolate is always the right choice! ” Scootaloo grinned, holding her hoof out towards Rumble for a nice hoof-bump. “Choco-buddies!”

Rumble looked down at Scootaloo’s waiting hoof. Tentatively, he gently knocked his hoof against her own and slowly nodded his head as his smile returned, “Choco-buddies.” He squeaked out with a nervous chuckle.

Now the truth was that Rumble had never had much chocolate in his life. Even when he was a colt he avoided it. He HATED chocolate. He despised the way it always left a bitter taste it left in his mouth. He loathed how it sometimes made his throat feel tingly so that he had to constantly clear it. But more than anything else, he was pained by the fact that it seemed like he was the only pony that disliked it. He never did understand the near universal infatuation all fillies and colts seemed to have for the sweet treat, just like he never understood their dislike of broccoli. It made him feel even more like an outcast than he already did.

He was about to retract his statement when Pinkie Pie stopped by their table to jot down their orders. When he looked at Scootaloo’s smiling face at that moment, he found himself unable to speak up. He hated to start their friendship on a lie, but he felt that by saying he loved chocolate, he had formed a bond with Scootaloo that would deepen their relationship to a level he never shared with anypony.

They were choco-buddies, and he was not going to jeopardize that.

So he placed his order for the chocolate shake. Scootaloo gave him a small wink and Rumble smiled at her, but deep down was dreading the shake he’d inevitably have to drink in order to keep up the charade.

Choco-buddies. Choco-buddies. Over and over he repeated in his mind to convince himself that he was making the right choice. Pinkie Pie smiled at his order and let out a small chuckle, saying that she thought it was “soooooooooooo adorable” that both Rumble and Scootaloo, the two pegasi that were sitting next to each other, ordered the same flavor of shake.

Needless to say, Rumble’s blush deepened.

Pinkie Pie skipped back to the back of the shop, presumably to make the shakes.

Rumble turned to the three fillies. “So, I take it you three come here often?”

“At least three times a week,” Scootaloo nodded. “This is where we plan our crusading. Well, here and at our clubhouse.”

Rumble’s ears perked at this. His interest hit a new high and a grin spread across his face. “Wait, you guys have a clubhouse?”

“Sure do,” Scootaloo answered, turning to her friends. “It’s big, sturdy, and totally super awesome. Isn’t it girls?”

Both Sweetie Belle and Apple Bloom were in the middle of whispering to each other, Sweetie Belle giggling while Apple Bloom covered her mouth and whispered into her friend’s white-furred ear. When Scootaloo addressed them, they stopped and turned towards Rumble. Sweetie Belle was still giggling, her hooves covering her mouth.

“Huh? Oh! Yeah! And bonus, it ain’t super girly so you should love it!” Apple Bloom said, both her and Sweetie Belle smiled, the unicorn still letting out tiny laughs before she stopped. Rumble smiled and shyly looked away, still too timid to look into their beaming faces for too long.  Except for Scootaloo, for some reason she was like a magnet for his eyes- no matter how awkward he felt being around her.

Eventually Pinkie Pie came out with the shakes. Vanilla for Sweetie Belle, mint chocolate chip for Apple Bloom— who felt getting fudge would be too close to chocolate, and she didn’t want to look like she was copying her friends— and two chocolate ones for the pegasi.

“Aw,” she cooed, “I still think it’s super cute that you two ordered the same kind of shake.”

“Yeah! We love sure do love our chocolate shakes. Don’t we Rumble?” Scootaloo asked, nudging the colt’s side.

“Yep, I can’t get enough of...chocolate.” He said with a nervous chuckle. Pinkie Pie smiled and trotted off, singing some song about “the cute little couple in the corner”.

Mares, Rumble mentally scoffed with a roll of his eyes. Why does everything have to be so mushy-gushy with them?

“So,” Sweetie Belle said after taking a sip of her vanilla milkshake. She turned towards Rumble. “Have you ever tried anything outrageous to get your cutie mark?”

“Not really,” he said, looking away from his drink in an attempt to pretend it wasn’t there. “I mean, I never really thought about it until you three created your club. Even then I guess I’ve always had the idea that I would get it when the time was right.”

“Well today’s yer lucky day!” Apple Bloom said excitedly, “Because ya are a Cutie Mark Crusader now. And as such, ya are guaranteed a cutie mark!”

“Oh...okay cool.” Rumble said with a weak smile, not pointing out the clear fact that their promise was not entirely valid since none of them had gotten theirs yet, so how could they promise him that he’d get his? But it didn’t matter. Rumble was just happy to be a part of the group so he just went along with everything. They could have said he was a pigeon and he would have sat there and nodded his head.

“Hey Rumble, are you gonna drink your shake?” Scootaloo asked, pointing at his untouched drink.

“Huh?” He asked, “Oh yeah...sorry.”

Apparently his taste buds had changed, because now he thought the chocolate was delicious.

He started slurping the shake, feeling the icy liquid run down his throat and into his stomach. He shivered, and the front of his head hurt in a classic case of ‘brain freeze’. But he loved the taste too much to stop fully. So after taking a second to let the headache subside, he went back to drinking the shake as though his life depended on it. Finally he hit the glass bottom and was only sucking on air. Leaning back and letting out a sigh, he looked around to see both Sweetie Belle and Apple Bloom staring at him. Scootaloo, meanwhile, burst out into laughter.

“Wow,” she said, wiping away a tear that had formed from her intense chuckling, “I have never seen anypony attack a shake like that, except for me. I must have really underestimated your love of chocolate.”

“Mwe twow,” Rumble said with a mouth-full of shake, wiping his mouth with the back of his hoof before swallowing the deliciousness. “That was the best shake I ever had!”

“Easy tiger, the shakes might be good here, but they’re hardly the best.” Scootaloo smiled. “That honor goes to Donut Joe’s Super Special Chocolate Culmination.”

“I thought Donut Joe’s bakery was in Canterlot.” Apple Bloom said, scratching her head.

“It is,” Scootaloo answered.

“When have ya been to Canterlot?”

“I used to live there, remember?”.

“You lived in Canterlot?” Rumble asked in shock, finding it hard to believe that such a rough-and-tumble filly grew up in the most elegant city in Equestria.

Scootaloo nodded, “Yeah, back when I was younger. Anyway, I’ll take you up there sometime. Trust me, you haven’t had a real chocolate shake until you’ve had one made by Donut Joe.”

Rumble grinned. “Sounds like a plan.”

He was relieved. Not only that the shake was so good, but because he didn’t have to confess to Scootaloo that he didn’t like the same flavored shake that she loved so much. Now he could honestly say that he did, in fact, like the chocolate shake.

And bonus, now he had an excuse to go on a small outing with Scootaloo, who was now not only pretty and kind, but also extremely fascinating. With the simple revelation that she lived in Canterlot, Scootaloo opened a whole box of possibilities about her past, and Rumble wanted to know all about it.

Who is this filly? He thought, picturing her as the daughter of one of the wealthy ponies that lived in the five-story mansions in the Hamilton District of Canterlot— the place that the richest ponies in Equestria called home. Perhaps she had some royal blood running in her veins?

“So back to talking about our club,” Sweetie Belle cleared her throat to speak. “We basically go around trying to find different ways to get our cutie marks.” Rumble nodded, absent-mindedly scratching the back of his hoof like he had a rash.

“Yeah, like this one time,” Scootaloo snickered, “we all thought it would be a good idea to try snorkeling and, well, everything was going okay until this gigantic squid came out of nowhere and started chasing us.”

“No!” Rumble exclaimed. A slight tickle crept up his throat, but he was too invested in the conversation to truly notice.

“It’s true,” Scootaloo continued, “we thought he was gonna ink us, but fortunately we ditched him by hiding behind some coral.”

“Oh that’s nice,” Rumble muttered, clearing his throat a little as the fuzziness increased. Normally when he ate chocolate, it wasn’t out of the ordinary for his throat to get a little fuzzy. For what reason he wasn’t sure. Regardless it was starting to get intolerable. He started clearing his throat almost every three seconds, causing the three fillies’ excited expressions to fall and be replaced by ones of concern.

“Erm Rumble, are you alright?” Apple Bloom asked, “Ya sure are clearin’ yer throat an awful lot.”

“Yeah I’m...I’m...”Rumble said, just then noticing that he was scratching his foreleg and chest like crazy. Looking down, he found out why. The skin under his fur was completely red and swollen. Panic suddenly overtook him as he tried to figure out what was happening. “Jeez, what the hay is going on? Why am I so itchy all of a sudden?” His voice cracked as it felt like his throat was both scratchy and constricting.

“Um...Rumble...” Sweetie Belle said.

Rumble cleared his throat. “What’s up Sweetie Belle?” The colt asked in a slightly hoarse voice.

He looked up at the Sweetie Belle, who looked concerned. She pointed directly at the Rumble’s face, “Your face...it’s...” she grimaced as if the next word was especially hard to say, “swelling.”

“Swelling?” Rumble asked, running a hoof along his cheek, pressing in to notice that his face was, indeed puffing out. But that wasn’t all, it was itching. So much so that he felt the need to start scratching it. His chest and forelegs also began to itch as well. He soon was using his hoof to scratch most of his upper body, trying to relieve the nuisance of the spreading rash.

“Oh no...Ah’ve seen that before. Yer havin’ an allergic reaction!” Apple Bloom shouted. “Just like Big Macintosh had that one time he drank a glass of grape juice!”

Sweetie Belle nodded, “Or when Rarity ate a coconut.”

Rumble froze and stared at the yellow filly as panic overtook him, “W-what!?! What does this...mean.” Rumble’s voice was now just above a whisper as his throat started to itch increasingly worse.

“We need to get ya to a doctor!” Apple Bloom shouted in a panic, turning towards the counter.

“This is ridiculous. How can I be having an allergic reaction? I’m not...” Rumble stopped, looking down at the shake in front of him- or where the shake had once been, now replaced with an empty glass. It was then that he realized what had caused the allergic reaction.

It was the bitter dark ‘goodness’ that had left him with a scratchy throat and fuzzy tongue when he was younger. The food he avoided for the past few years because of its bitter aftertaste that everypony else seemed to be immune to. Now it appeared that in that gap of time Rumble had developed a full-fledged allergy to it. Of course he couldn’t find out in the privacy of his own home. No, it had to happen at the worst possible time— the day he finally had the chance to make actual friends and, consequently, get to hang out with them.

But what stung him even more than that was how his face was currently bloating in front of the one pony he wanted to make a good impression on.

Scootaloo placed her hoof onto Rumble’s back and looked down at him her violet eyes filled with worry. He knew he should have felt grateful for her concern, but being in that position just made him feel pathetic.

So much for choco-buddies

At the Hospital

Chapter 5: At the Hospital

Thunderlane sat in the waiting room of Ponyville General Hospital with his head hung low. He pressed his hooves into his shut eyes as the breeze of the ceiling fan above gently tousled his mane. He shivered from the chilly air, but was too nervous to notice. It was an impulse, nothing more, as his mind was focused on something far more important than the temperature of the room.

Thunderlane returned home from the park after his ill-fated meeting with Caramel and Soarin’. He was exhausted and hoped to get in a quick nap, hoping that Rumble would understand if he didn’t answer the door as he normally did. He needed sleep if he hoped to pull off a convincing minotaur act for his brother later on. Well, sleep, as well as a cheap loincloth and pair of plastic horns that he had bought at the local cultural shop (a tiny store specializing in cultural items of different races: griffons, diamond dogs, minotaurs, everything).

Yawning and stretching, Thunderlane placed the horns and cloth onto the table before he stumbled into the living room and collapsed onto the couch. The last thing he remembered thinking before passing out was how incredibly sunny it was outside. Perhaps, he thought, a sign of a better evening ahead to make up for the bad day he had because of the Caramel incident.

He had been asleep for about an hour when the doorbell rang. He groggily shouted for the pony to leave, but after a few rapid, urgent rings, Thunderlane realized the guest wasn’t going away until he answered. Cursing, he pushed himself out of the couch. He opened the door with the intention of arguing only to have his rage vanish when he saw the brown pegasus mare standing on the ‘WELCOME’ mat with a worried look in her eyes. She wore a spotless white jacket with a small red cross embroidered onto the front of it. He immediately recognized her as one of the hospital’s messenger ponies that were sent off to alert family members of sick and injured ponies that their relative was hospitalized— something that, thanks to his binge drinking father, had happened more often than he would have liked.

To Thunderlane’s shame, he found part of himself hoping that his father was the one in the hospital, as the only other possibility he could think of was that Rumble was admitted. And that was something he didn’t even want to think about as a possibility.

Unfortunately the messenger confirmed Thunderlane’s worst fear and told him that it was, indeed, Rumble. Before the messenger mare had the chance to explain further, the frantic Thunderlane nearly knocked her over as he bolted out the door and flew to the hospital.

Once he arrived, he zoomed into the emergency room before landing just short of slamming into the glass separating him from the receptionist, who sat in a chair with a clipboard in hoof, chewing a piece of bubblegum. Out of breath and panicked, Thunderlane demanded to be let in so he could see his brother. Putting on a pair of reading glasses, the receptionist scanned Rumble’s records to confirm that he was admitted and told Thunderlane to take a seat in the waiting room.

After Thunderlane vocalized his disapproval at not being allowed back to see his brother for a good five minutes the receptionist threatened to call security. Stomping his hoof definitely, Thunderlane nevertheless caved and after taking a few deep, calming breaths he trotted over to an empty chair and plopped his flank down on it. There he waited as patiently as the sibling of a hospitalized patient could wait.

And he waited.

And waited.

And waited.

The room was remarkably empty, and Thunderlane could hear his heart thumping against his chest like his drunken father’s head on the front door when he wanted to be let inside. He had never been so frightened, thoughts about what could have happened to his little brother flashed through his mind. He pictured a hydra crushing Rumble beneath one of its massive feet. He pictured Rumble tumbling off of a cliff into a gator-filled river below. He pictured a group of bullies stomping their hooves into poor Rumble’s face until his nose split open and his eyes swelled like grapes. There were so many possibilities, each more devastating than the last.

Thunderlane bit down on his lower lip to keep himself as composed as possible. His forelegs had gone numb and he felt as though he was going to start crying any minute. Out of his peripheral vision, he saw a multi-colored bolt fly through the automated doors. He looked up quickly to see Rainbow Dash pass by and almost crash into the glass separating her from the receptionist.

As if this situation wasn’t stressful enough, ‘SHE’ had to be here.

He could deal with his drunken father every night no problem, but for some reason he got nervous whenever the bossy pegasus was around. Ever since she seemed to focus so intently on him when they had to create the tornado, he couldn’t help but be afraid. But this time something was different. But instead of being cocky and aloof, as Thunderlane had known her to be, Rainbow Dash was visibly panicked.

“Where’s Scoots? Where is she?” Her voice cracked slightly as she shouted. Her hooves slammed into the glass a couple of times and Thunderlane jumped at the sound, surprised the glass didn’t shatter from the force of the pounding.

“I’m sorry, who?” The receptionist asked, peering over the thin rims of her glasses.

Rainbow Dash reached through a small opening in the receptionist’s window, took the receptionist by the back of her head and pulled her forward. Their muzzles virtually touched, the glass acting like a thin barrier that fogged under their breathing.

“Scootaloo!” Rainbow Dash released the receptionist, who immediately fell back into her chair. Shaking off her stumble and re-adjusting her glasses, she got to work looking through a stack of folders. She raised an eyebrow and Rainbow Dash jumped a little in place, biting her lip anxiously.

“Huh. I don’t seem to have a folder out for any ‘Scootaloo’,” the receptionist looked back up at Rainbow Dash. “Are you sure she’s here?”

“The messenger pony you sent told me she was.” Rainbow Dash’s voice cracked slightly, her anger seemed to be replaced with worry and Thunderlane leaned forward.

“What else did the messenger tell you?”

“I don’t know. I just got home from working out at the gym, and there she was. As soon as she told me that Scoots was in the hospital I made my way over. I was too scared to wait around and listen, I had to make sure she’s okay.”

“Well I’m sorry I don’t see her records in this pile.”

“Well do you remember seeing her?” Rainbow Dash put a hoof about a foot off of the ground as if measuring some invisible being. “She’s about yay tall. An orange pegasus filly with a purple mane, sort of cut like this.” Rainbow Dash pointed to her own mane cut. “Ring any bells?”

Suddenly the familiar face of Nurse Redheart popped into the receptionist’s room. Upon seeing Rainbow Dash she smiled. “Oh, hello Rainbow Dash. I take it our messenger went to grab you about Scootaloo?”

Rainbow Dash pressed her face back up against the glass. “Yes! I was told that she’s back there?”

“Yes she’s back here, but don’t worry she is fine.”

Rainbow Dash sighed, her tense body softening as it appeared that a thousand pounds had been lifted off of her back.

“Why aren’t her files out?” The receptionist held up the stack of folders, clearly puzzled.

“Because she isn’t being treated so her medical records weren’t needed.” The nurse turned back to Rainbow Dash, “The only reason that she’s here is to keep the company of a young colt who we admitted earlier.”

“A colt?” Rainbow Dash asked, her relief replaced with sudden confusion and, apparently, anger. As if her repetition of that word re-charged Thunderlane’s common sense, he snapped out of his state of sorrow and looked up at the receptionist. “What colt?”

“Rumble...” Thunderlane muttered. Rainbow Dash turned and glared at him as if he just said something insulting about the size of her flank. The stallion felt his stomach churn from the coldness of the mare’s magenta stare. He clenched his teeth and slowly moved towards the receptionist’s desk, which seemed to have a magnet-like draw as everypony was gathered near it.

“Is she with,” Thunderlane swallowed nervously, feeling the imagined heat Rainbow Dash’s eyes on the back of his head. “Rumble?”

Nurse Redheart nodded. “Why yes, in fact she is.”

“Why...why would she be in there with him?” Thunderlane asked, genuinely confused. He had no idea Rumble had such devoted friends, especially ones of the opposite gender.

“She and her friends brought him in when he was having an allergic reaction,” the nurse continued to look through the papers in front of her, “and she decided to stick around until somepony came to pick him up.”

“He had an allergic reaction?” Thunderlane never felt such a mix of panic and confusion. Rumble wasn’t allergic to anything, was he?

“Yep, that chocolate shake sure did a number on him. But don’t worry, he’s perfectly fine now and should be out in a little bit.”

“Oh thank Celestia,” Thunderlane gasped in relief. Suddenly, a wave of confusion hit him. “Wait a minute. Did you say a chocolate shake?”

Nurse Redheart nodded, “Yes. Rumble is allergic to chocolate.”

Thunderlane just stared for a moment. It was no mystery that his brother loathed chocolate more than anything else, so Thunderlane was confused as to why he would even try the stuff. But even more than that, he remembered his brother trying the dark sweetness and though he stuck his tongue out and let out a ‘blech’, he didn’t have an allergic reaction to it.

“That’s...impossible. I’ve seen him eat chocolate before. I mean it has been a few years since he hates the stuff, but it never caused his throat to close or anything.”

“Sometimes it takes years for somepony to develop an allergy. Anyways, Rumble will be out in a minute so why don’t you both take a seat?” Thunderlane thanked the nurse and trotted back over to the chairs and let himself back into one. Rainbow Dash trotted over Thunderlane and took a seat. Both pegasi were next to each other.

“Ya know, your brother better not be up to anything funny with Scoots.”

Thunderlane glanced at Rainbow before looking away, preferring to pretend that she wasn’t sitting so close to him and that the waiting room was, as it was before, his own silent haven. “I’m sure everything is fine.”

“Well I’m still keeping my guard up."

Thunderlane glanced up at Rainbow Dash before he looked away and continued to adjust himself in his seat so he was a few centimeters further from the polychromatic pegasus.

“I see you moving away from me,” Rainbow Dash said. Thunderlane turned to see Rainbow Dash giving him a rather bemused look.

“Yeah? So what?” Thunderlane asked with a stern glare, trying his best to act like she hadn’t been spot on with her observation.

“What do you mean ‘so what’? Do I intimidate you or something?” Rainbow Dash sneered.

Thunderlane pressed his hooves to his temples. “Ugh. Look could you please just leave me alone?”

“Whatever.” Rainbow Dash shook her head and looked towards the door that led into the back where Rumble and Scootaloo were. There was an unnerving silence for about a minute where neither pony looked directly at each other. Thunderlane stole the occasional glance at Rainbow Dash, who kept her eyes glued to the door, her hooves swinging back and forth while her flank was teetering on the very edge of the chair. He wanted to ask her a question, but also didn’t want to break the silence. Clicking his tongue against his cheek, Thunderlane finally caved to curiosity and spoke up.

“So...why are you waiting on Scootaloo anyway? I know you aren’t related to her or anything.”

Rainbow Dash turned towards Thunderlane, her eyebrow raised. “What? I can’t show concern for somepony without them being related to me? Can’t it be enough of a reason that I care about her wellbeing?”

Thunderlane held his hooves up defensively, “Calm down. I didn’t mean anything by it, I was just curious. Especially since the messenger went to get you ahead of anypony else.”

Rainbow Dash opened her mouth to retort but stopped. Her face seemed to relax a bit as she let out a sigh, her shoulders slouching slightly.

“I’m her emergency contact. Her mother isn’t the most reliable...Look! Just...just keep your brother in check, okay? I don’t want him to hurt Scoots.” Rainbow rubbed her foreleg with a nervous fervor.

“He won’t. Trust me, Rumble isn’t like that.”

“You mean like your father?”

Thunderlane looked down, biting his lip so hard he could taste blood. “He is nothing like him. Neither of us are.”

“When I was a young filly, back when I lived in Cloudsdale, there was this saying. Maybe you’re familiar with it? ‘The rain doesn’t fall far from the cloud’.” Rainbow turned to Thunderlane.

Thunderlane slowly nodded, clenching his teeth. “Yes, I’ve heard that before.”

“Then you’ll understand why I’m still not totally on board with your little brother being around Scootaloo?”

Thunderlane didn’t respond, and Rainbow Dash turned her attention back to the door. And just like that, both ponies re-entered their state of mutual silence that had before seemed so unsettling, but now was extraordinarily welcome. At least that’s how Thunderlane felt, thinking that if the polychromatic mare beside him opened her mouth one more time to badmouth his brother, he was going to snap.

“Sun-1.”

“Miss. Sky-17.”

“Miss.” Rumble said, adjusting himself into a more comfortable position in the hospital bed. The sheets were pulled up his legs so they reached his waist,covering the entire lower half of his body. Scootaloo was on the bed as well, but stayed above the sheets.

The swelling that was caused by Rumble’s reaction had since abated so that he looked as healthy as he had before the first drop of the shake touched his tongue. The only rash left on his body was on his foreleg, beneath the tape and gauze that had been placed after the IV had been pulled.

The part of the hospital that Rumble and Scootaloo were in– where checked-in patients lay in sweaty beds– was almost completely empty, giving it an air of almost complete silence. In fact, the only noise seemed to come from both Rumble and Scootaloo’s breathing, as well as the occasional squeak of wheels against tile that sounded when nurses passed their room pushing carts of medical supplies. The walls were a blinding white, an effect enhanced by the ceiling lights and sunlight that streamed into the room through a window.

Rumble was focused on the colorful board game that Scootaloo had dug up from the Hospital’s recreation room, a place that was devoid of young colts and fillies that most likely lacked the high spirits needed to get out of bed and make the journey down the hall.

“Not in the same room, of course,” Scootaloo giggled, “I’m obsessed with Rainbow Dash, but not that obsessed. Well, except one time on Hearth’s Warming Eve I did sleep in the same bed as her, but that was a one time thing, and it was like she was an older sister,” she looked down as her cheeks turned red, “or a mother.”

Rumble was certainly curious about Scootaloo’s relationship with Rainbow Dash. So he decided to ask a question that had been on his mind for the past few minutes, ever since Scootaloo started talking about her innocent little “mare-crush”.

“Why do you spend so much time with Rainbow Dash anyway?”

“Duh,” Scootaloo said, rolling her eyes. “Because she is the coolest pegasus ever. You name one cooler and I’ll name you a liar.”

After a quick laugh they both continued to play the game long after both Sweetie Belle and Apple Bloom had left. Rumble was happy that all three fillies stayed with him when he first came in, and then stayed until they were certain that he would be okay. Rumble told them that they were free to leave, but Scootaloo, who at the time had been sitting by his side at the edge of the bed, offered to stay until he was fully checked out.

“Rain-4”

“Miss. Sun-9.”

“Miss. You know, Scootaloo. You don’t have to stay here. I’ll be fine. Trust me.” Rumble said.

“I know you would be, but I still want to hang with you.” Scootaloo said with a soft chuckle, “Trust me. If I really wanted to leave, I would have left with Sweetie Belle and Apple Bloom. Cloud-2.”

“Miss,” Rumble muttered. “Yeah but I just feel bad. I ruined the day for you guys. You were planning to go crusading and here I just had to muck it all up. Rain-7.”

“Miss. Yeah, I’ve been meaning to ask that. Why did you get the shake if you didn’t like chocolate? Cloud-16.”

“Dangit, you hit my cumulus,” Rumble said, taking the small cloud-shaped piece off of the board and placing it to his side along with the other pieces Scootaloo managed to knock off. “Sun-10.”

He looked up to see Scootaloo looking at him expectantly, as if waiting for an explanation.

“Answer my question.”

Rumble shook his head and pointed to the board, ignoring the concerned expression on Scootaloo’s face. “I just made a move. Let me know if I hit anything, and then I’ll talk.”

“Nice try buddy boy,” Scootaloo shook her head and crossed her hooves over her chest. “We aren’t going to continue playing this game until you tell me why you lied.”

Rumble could feel his stomach turn out of anxiety.

“Are you really doing this?” Scootaloo didn’t respond. Instead, she kept staring at Rumble like a mother that knew her son had done something wrong, and was waiting for an admission of guilt.

Rumble sighed and leaned back against his already-dented pillow, “Fine...when I saw how happy you were that I ordered the same flavor as you, I...I guess didn’t want to disappoint you.”

Scootaloo put her hooves to her mouth. “Oh my...Rumble. Oh no, I’m sorry, I...I didn’t know that I made you feel that way.”

“You don’t have to apologize.”

“But if I didn’t make such a big deal about the chocolate, you wouldn’t be in the hospital.” Scootaloo’s eyes went wide before she looked down, her lower eyelids moistening. “It’s all my fault.” Scootaloo shook her head and sniffled. “My fault.”

“Scootaloo, don’t worry. I’m fine, see.” Rumble waved and gave the filly a small smile. “I’m telling you, it wasn’t your fault. You didn’t know. Heck, nopony knew. If anyone is to blame here, it’s me, I never should have ordered the shake if I didn’t like it. I should have been honest from the start.”

Rumble sighed. “Then again, if I knew that my throat would close and my head would swell to the size of a melon I probably would have probably reconsidered.”

“Probably?” Scootaloo asked, her guilt seeming to subside as she smiled weakly. Rumble shrugged and Scootaloo burst out laughing. Rumble smiled, somewhat happier that Scootaloo was back to her old self after her momentary slip into blaming herself. Once she stopped, he pointed back at the board.

“So, now will you tell me if I hit anything?”

Scootaloo nodded, though she smiled as if she knew something that Rumble did not.

“Okay. Tell me what your move was again.”

“I...” Rumble trailed off, his mind blank as he tried to recall the coordinate of the ‘attack’ he made. “Oh...crud, I can’t remember!” He then looked at Scootaloo, who looked like she was trying to hold back laughter. “Can you tell me?”

Scootaloo shook her head. “Now why would I do that? Sorry bud, you’re gonna have to remember yourself.”

Rumble pointed at Scootaloo accusingly, “You set me up to forget, didn’t you?”

Scootaloo finally let out what she had been holding in, bellowing a loud, obnoxious laugh while slapping her thigh. “Gotta keep focused, dude!”

“Grrr,” Rumble growled, but it didn’t take long before he let out a light laugh, “that’s a cheap move there, Scootaloo. Cheap...but actually pretty clever.”

Scootaloo’s laughter slowed and she wiped a stray tear from her eye. “Thanks. Rainbow Dash taught me that one.” Scootaloo looked up at Rumble with complete sincerity. “But that was only part of the reason I stopped the game. I really did want you to open up to me about this afternoon. You’re my friend after all.”

At hearing the word ‘friend’, Rumble found his cheeks, once again, flaring up. Sunlight from the window spread across Scootaloo’s body. It was evening, and the setting sun cast an orange tint that enhanced Scootaloo’s fur coat so it looked as though she was neon. Rumble snapped out of his trance when Scootaloo stopped laughing and looked at the embarrassed colt. Their eyes met, and the confused colt could feel his heart beat faster as he let himself get lost in the violet gems.

“And Rumble,” she leaned forward with a smug look on her face, put her hoof up to her mouth like she was going to tell him some super special secret, and whispered. “Your move was Sun-10.”

Rumble’s eyes widened as he returned to reality, his grin returning. “Yes! That’s right! Sun-10!”

“Miss,” she said almost immediately with an evil grin, crushing the high hopes Rumble had built up. “My turn. Cloud-8.”

And with this, Rumble’s faltering hope crashed and burned into a hypothetical pile of ash. His eyes stared down at the lone piece on his board— the seagull. He closed his eyes and face-hoofed.

Scootaloo grinned. “I hit your seagull, didn’t I?”

Rumble let out a sigh, reaching down and pulling the bird-shaped peg from its hole on the board. With a deadpan expression, he held it up to the orange filly. Scootaloo instantly threw her hooves up in triumph. “Yes! I am the champion of the hospital bed!”

Scootaloo let out enthusiastic ‘rah-rah’ sounds, acting overly-arrogant while making it rather humorous to Rumble, who laughed as he started to stick his game pieces back onto the board.

“Good game. Do you wanna go another round?” he asked, grinning competitively.

“You bet!” Scootaloo said, getting her board situated when the door the the room opened. Rumble looked up to see the familiar face of Doctor Stable standing in the doorway. The doctor had been his physician since he was young- well...younger. He was the one that had given Rumble his booster shots and the other vaccines the colt couldn’t remember the names of. Not that he wanted to, he was still scared of getting his annual flu shot.

He was also one that had treated Rumble for a shattered leg after he fell from the swing.

Well, maybe fell isn’t the correct term. Rumble had purposefully jumped from the swing like a projectile with the hope that in doing so he would discover some kind of hidden ‘sink of swim’ survival instinct that would make him fly. Needless to say his body didn’t go into autopilot like he had hoped, and he plummeted to the ground with a ‘thud’, snapping his right foreleg in half like a twig.

The memory of the pain was so potent that it permanently burned into his subconscious. For a long while after he had a nagging fear of flying that made his ability to do so shaky, at best. Sometimes he would stay airborne for half a minute before he started to hyperventilate and would crash to the ground in a small heap of grey and black. The only thing that helped him calm down was when Thunderlane ran over breathlessly, asking questions like rapid fire; “Are you hurt?”; “Did you hurt your leg again?”; “Did you have another panic attack?”

The very fact that he was able to join the other Ponyville pegasi in creating the water spout for Cloudsdale’s reservoir was nothing short of a miracle. However, he had still yet to recapture the poise and flying ability that he displayed on that day. His fear had dwindled significantly, though it still existed, and his flying had definitely improved with his newfound confidence, but he was still inconsistent. He also wasn’t particularly good at flying at high speeds, which was a problem for a colt who aspired to be a Wonderbolt.

This led him to believe that his success that day had more to do with Rainbow Dash’s uncanny ability to milk the tiniest bit of motivation from all pegasi that were present, not that he would tell Thunderlane as that would only make him jealous, than his own personal talent. Regardless, that day was the pinnacle of his flying ability at the moment and he sought to recapture it, even with the tiny fear he still had.

“Rumble, Scootaloo?” the doctor asked. The two friends nodded in unison. “Both of your pickups are here to take you home.”

Rumble knew that Thunderlane was most likely the one picking him up. The other possibility, his father, was so unlikely it was almost deserving of laughter.

Scootaloo, on the other hoof, tilted her head like some confused puppy. “Wait, who’s my pick-up? I didn’t need one.”

“Yes, but knowing your history, I thought that it would be a good idea to send the messenger to fetch Rainbow Dash for you.”

For a moment Rumble was unsure about what the doctor meant by ‘your history’, but his attention was quickly grabbed by Scootaloo, who let out a shrill, excitable gasp at the mention of her mentor being the one to pick her up.

“Oh my gosh! You got Rainbow Dash to pick me up?” Doctor Stable nodded. Scootaloo jumped up as her tiny wings buzzed like a hummingbird’s— keeping her airborne briefly before she descended back onto the mattress. “That is so awesome!”

The doctor smiled at Scootaloo’s excitement, “I’ll send the nurse back here to lead you out to the waiting room in a few minutes.” He walked out, leaving the two young ponies alone. Both Rumble and Scootaloo looked at each other before quickly looking away with nervous laughter.

“We should probably clean this place up so the nurses don’t get mad.” Scootaloo suggested.

“Right,” Rumble responded. He and Scootaloo started to pack the board game away, placing their pieces into individual cubbies. Once done, Rumble reached out to close the game up when his hoof lightly brushed up against Scootaloo’s. They both quickly retracted and Rumble looked at the floor. His cheeks felt like they were aflame, and his stomach felt knotted. He looked up to see Scootaloo looking away as well, her cheeks a similar shade of pink.

Wow, she’s so cute. Rumble thought before he shook his head. Wait. Why am I thinking like that? What’s wrong with me? Stop it, Rumble, stop it!

Scootaloo giggled. “Sorry,” she said in such a meek way it would have made a bunny blush.

“No it’s...it’s fine.” Rumble said. Scootaloo glanced up at him, giving him the most sheepish of smiles. Nurse Redheart stopped in the doorframe and told the duo to follow her. They quickly hopped off of the bed and trailed the mare down the hallway to a door. The Nurse opened it and Rumble found himself back in the waiting room. He saw both Thunderlane and Rainbow Dash sitting in adjacent chairs.

When Thunderlane looked over in Rumble’s direction, his eyes lit up like a set of gold candles. Before Rumble get a single word out, the black pegasus flew over and embraced him tightly so that the little colt’s face was pressed firmly into his furry chest. Rumble didn’t mind. After the day he had feeling the warm fur and gentle heartbeat of his brother was more than welcome. He returned the gesture only to feel Thunderlane’s entire body shake like a leaf caught in a gust.

“Oh, Rumble! You have no idea how happy I am that you’re okay!”

“I think I have an idea,” Rumble muttered, rolling his eyes at his brother’s protectiveness. Nevertheless, he hugged him back and looked over his shoulder to see Scootaloo run over to Rainbow Dash, who was now standing with a look of relief that wasn’t quite as intense as Thunderlane’s, but still enough to convey the worry she felt. Scootaloo almost knocked Rainbow Dash off her hooves as they hugged each other.

“Do you know how worried I was, squirt?” Rainbow Dash asked, looking down with concern.

“I was fine,” Scootaloo replied. “I was just staying with Rumble to make sure he checked out all right.”

“I know that now,” Rainbow Dash nodded. “But I didn’t when the messenger told me and I was scared out of my mind until I talked to the nurse.”

Rainbow Dash pulled Scootaloo in closer, nuzzling her chin against the filly’s messy mane. Scootaloo returned the hug and turned to Rumble, who smiled at her and mouthed ‘thank you’. With a friendly smile, Scootaloo gave him a wink.

Rumble’s cheeks felt as if it was sparking like a unicorn’s horn. He that Rainbow Dash was eyeing him suspiciously and he quickly looked away to hide the blush in his cheeks. Doctor Stable talked with Thunderlane about Rumble’s allergy to chocolate, saying how he would have to carry around an epipen in case he ever accidentally ingested it in the future. Thunderlane took the small injector, thanked the doctor and looked down at Rumble before motioning to the door with his head.

“Let’s go, dude.”

Rumble nodded and both he and his brother made their way towards the door, passing both Rainbow Dash and Scootaloo, but not before the little filly offered Rumble a hoof bump. He stopped to take a quick, nervous glance up at Rainbow Dash who just kept glaring at him as if he had somehow wronged her. It felt as though a massive weight had been dropped into his stomach and his legs started to shake slightly at the knee. But then he saw Scootaloo, and her adorable smile and friendly offer of her hoof was too much to resist the urge to put his nervousness aside. So despite the rational part of his brain telling him that he would regret doing so, and that he should be intimidated by the disapproving blue pegasus staring at him like a criminal yet to commit a crime, he brought his hoof up to Scootaloo’s and made contact.

He looked at his hoof, the hoof that touched hers, before lowering it back down and glancing up at Scootaloo. He could have sworn that he saw the faintest blush grace her cheeks.

“I’ll see you at school.” He said.

Scootaloo giggled. “Yeah, I guess I will. Just try not to end up back in a hospital bed before then.”

Both ponies joined in a light laugh when Thunderlane’s voice boomed from the entrance. “Yo Rumble! Come on! We’re losing daylight here and I haven’t even made us dinner!”

“I’m coming!” Rumble shouted back. He gave Scootaloo a subtle nod and ran off to catch up with his brother, who was tapping his hoof against the tiled floor impatiently. Rumble was so lost in his own thoughts of Scootaloo that he hardly noticed the change in Rainbow Dash’s expression, which went from a look of accusation to a full-out, red-cheeked, lip-biting scowl that would send chills down the most fearless ponies’ spines.

Scoots the Archer

Chapter 6: Scoots the Archer

It was not even eight when Rumble was forced to prepare to go to sleep. Upon having returned home from the hospital and noticing how late it was, Thunderlane quickly whipped up a quick dinner of cereal and milk for Rumble that they ate in about half an hour before. They then played around for a little while with the plastic set of minotaur horns Thunderlane had brought down earlier. After roughhousing a while as they did most nights, this time with Thunderlane doing his best impersonation of Iron Will, the minotaur that stopped by Ponyville the year before to teach ponies how to stand their ground, the grandfather clock struck seven and Thunderlane immediately stopped. He pulled the horns from his head and trotted them over to the kitchen table as Rumble watched in disappointment. .

Playtime was over.

Though it was earlier than nine, when Rumble usually went to get ready for bed, Thunderlane told him to go upstairs. Like a typical child, Rumble protested this act of ‘tyranny’, saying that he felt wide awake and didn’t understand why he had to go to bed early. There may have been some instances in which Thunderlane would have given his brother the benefit of the doubt, but after the rough day the colt had, what with going to the allergic reaction and the hospital, Thunderlane was unyielding. He said that while Rumble didn’t have to go to sleep yet, it was best that he get into bed and relax his body. But he did add how he wanted his little brother asleep by nine, which annoyed Rumble further. That was when he usually went upstairs, NOT when he went to sleep.

No amount of Rumble saying how ‘I feel fine’ and ‘come on, I like watching you pretend to be a minotaur’ could convince Thunderlane to change his stance so the colt gave up on his feeble pleas. Head hung low, he sulked up the steps like a prisoner walking to his cell after a conviction of death. He could almost feel the imaginary chains on his hooves, clanking together with each step up he took. Just as he reached the halfway point on the stairs, his sorrow at its peak, Thunderlane called up to him.

“Hey! Dude, remember the faster you get ready for bed, the more time I’ll have to tell you tonight’s story before nine! And trust me, it’s about to get good!”

Suddenly all of the sorrow that had clouded Rumble’s mind, making him temporarily forget that he would still get his story, vanished and Rumble felt a new spark of life.

“Okay!” In a split second, fuelled by this excitement, Rumble went from slowly trotting to nearly sprinting. He pulled his sheets down and ran into the bathroom across the hall to give his teeth a quick brush. Though not that thorough of his job, his teeth still had a bit of a yellow tint after he rinsed, he felt it was adequate enough. One half-flanked attempt at flossing later, he sprinted back to the bedroom, slipped under the blankets and turned his attention to the door, waiting for Thunderlane to arrive. After fifteen minutes Rumble already started to exhibit the first signs of youthful impatience. He was never the most patient when it came to waiting for something exciting. Whether standing in line at an amusement park ride, or waiting for his daisy sandwich to come out of the kitchen at Ponyville’s local diner, Rumble could only stay still for so long before he started to fidget and whisper ‘hurry up’ over and over under his breath. Now he started to shift his hooves beneath his blanket as heated anticipation turned to grating irritation.

Finally the door to his room creaked open and Thunderlane slipped inside, kicking it closed behind him. He then pulled up his usual chair to Rumble’s bed and sat down.

“Well, I’m sure after the day you’ve had you’re looking forward to unwinding a bit with a nice story.” Thunderlane said.

Rumble nodded, “Uh-huh. That hospital room was so stuffy.”

“I’ll bet it was,” Thunderlane said, smiling knowingly. Rumble was confused. “But, uh, I wasn’t just talking about the hospital itself,” Thunderlane’s eyelids drooped and his grin widened in a teasing manner, “Romeo.”

Rumble froze and stared up at his grinning brother, his heart rate increasing. “Huh? W-what are you...talking about?”

“Don’t act surprised, I saw the way you were looking at Scootaloo.” Thunderlane sneered, leaning forward in his seat so his face was right up against Rumble’s. “You like her, don’t you?”

“What?” Rumble’s eyes bulged as he quickly he waved his hooves in front of himself defensively. “No! No, it’s nothing like that. We’re just friends.”

“Then why are your cheeks now glowing redder than Big Macintosh?” Thunderlane asked with a smarmy grin and wiggle of his eyebrows.

Rumble could feel the heat concentrated in his cheeks and quickly looked away. “It’s chilly in here. My...my face is cold. Just like my face was red in the hospital because I was warm.”

“Suuure. Hehe, my little brother has his first crush. That is so cute.”  Thunderlane made kissy-kissy faces before slapping his thigh in uproarious laughter. Rumble glared at his brother, who smile back at him. “What? It is. All it means is that you’re growing up.”

“Can you get on with the story, please?”

Thunderlane nodded and leaned back, placing his hooves over his lap. “Right. So, where did we leave off? Rumble has just saved the Princess from the castle?” Rumble nodded. Thunderlane cleared his throat. “So, Rumble the Valiant returned to Canterlot to visit with Princess Celestia after rescuing her niece, Princess...um....” Thunderlane put his hoof to his chin in thought before he grinned in settlement. “Lotus!”

“Lotus?” Rumble tilted his head. “But there isn’t a Princess Lotus.”

“Right. I made her up for the story. This is my own fictionalized version of Equestria.”

“But you’re putting Princess Celestia is in it, and she’s real.”

Thunderlane face-hoofed. “Look! Do you want me to tell the story or not?”

“Yes of course I do, I was just pointing out inaccuracies in your story!” Rumble shouted defensively.

“Well don’t. Instead, why don’t you learn to suspend a little disbelief?” Thunderlane cleared his throat to continue. “Now then, Princess Lotus was returned safely after being rescued from the Badlands by Rumble the Valiant...”

The scent of vanilla incense wafted through Rumble’s nostrils as he stood in front of Princess Celestia’s throne, his armor seeming to glow under the sun’s rays that broke through the stained glass windows lining the walls. It was warm and the knight tried his best not to draw attention to the fact that he was uncomfortable, though the sweat accumulating under his armor made it difficult.

A guard was bowing on the top step just before Celestia’s throne as the Princess looked down at him. He looked up at her, speaking in a hushed tone so that Rumble wasn’t entirely sure what he was saying. But if his previous experiences with the Princess after he did some heroic feat served as example, the guard was probably saying something like, “Yes, Your Majesty, he saved her. Shall I get the sack of bits from the savings room?”

The Princess nodded and the guard stood and trotted down the marble steps past Rumble and left the throne room so that the knight and the Goddess of the sun were alone. The sound of hoofsteps descending the steps leading to the throne made Rumble get down into a bow.

“Arise, Sir Rumble. I cannot in good conscious watch you bow to me after what you have done.”

“Thank you, Your Majesty.” Rumble stood up and gazed up at the ever-friendly smiling face of Princess Celestia.

“I should be the one thanking you for saving Lotus from that terrible prison and beastly manticore.”

“It was my honor.”

“Just how did you deal with the manticore? Sorry if I seem overly inquisitive, but I simply love hearing knights tell me of their adventures and all the perils they faced along the way.” The Princess asked, smiling in genuine interest.

“I dealt with the creature as humanely as possible. We battled and it had me beat, the only reason I’m standing here right now instead of laying dead in the desert sand is because I was able to reach my sword in time. Still, even after all that, I felt bad for it. So as it lay dying from its wound, I plunged my blade into its neck to save it further pain.”

“That is completely understandable, the fact that you even showed that glimmer of mercy when being attacked is such a attribute to your character. You are truly an honorable pony, Rumble.” Princess Celestia smiled, trotting past the knight.

“Thank you, Princess.”

“In my long life, I have seen many heroes come and pass.” Princess Celestia made her way over to one of the stained glass windows and looked up at the image crafted on it. It showed three unicorns wearing glistening armor, wielding deadly combat weapons against a trio of angry griffons while defending, what appeared to be, an older design of Canterlot Castle.

“Many brave warriors that were willing to lay down their lives for the good of Equestria. Some entering battles with the knowledge that they wouldn’t survive,” she said, handing her head. “Many were even dear friends of mine. Each was heartbreaking.”

There was a brief silence before the Princess turned to look at Rumble, who straightened himself to look as dignified as possible, especially considering what she was talking about. “You might be young, but I can already tell that you are well on your way to ranking among the most infamous heroes in Equestria’s history.”

“Thank you, Your Majesty.”

Princess Celestia smiled and trotted back to her throne just as the guard re-entered the room with a heavy sack of bits hanging from his mouth, jingling with each step he took. He placed it on the ground beside Rumble, letting the top open to reveal the shimmering gold bits within.

Princess Celestia gestured to the sack of money that was to be Rumble’s payment and smiled.  “As promised, fifteen-hundred bits for returning Princess Lotus.”

Rumble stuck out a hoof and waved it away. “I appreciate the offer, Your Highness, but I shall accept no payment as reward. I set out with the main goal of finding Princess Lotus and bringing her home safe and sound. Knowing that I have succeeded in doing that is enough.”

Princess Celestia chuckled lightly, “Always the chivalrous one, aren’t you?”

“Just serving Canterlot and Your Highness as honorably as I can.”

“If you insist. Just always remember that if you need anything, and I mean ANYTHING, I am at your beck and call.” Princess Celestia smiled and used her magic to hover the bag over to her waiting hoof, where she dropped it. “Now go on, enjoy your day as the hero, Sir Rumble the Valiant.”

Rumble bowed one last time and excused himself before heading out of the castle. The hallway leading to the massive door was so empty that the sounds of his hooves on the tiled floor echoed as if he were in some massive canyon. He exited the castle and made his way to the city square. Quaint shops and homes made up most of the surroundings while the streets were filled with ponies flaunting extraordinary wealth.

To the west was the mountain that Canterlot jutted out from, like some magnificent ornament on a tree. To the east was the pure green of rolling hills and lush fields filled with vegetables and fruits of all kinds– apples, oranges, carrots, tomatoes, everything. There were even fields filled with stalks of corn that were designed in a maze-like pattern for little colts and fillies to venture through for their own amusement.

As he trotted along, Rumble was met with cheers and applause from all around. He waved to those he passed, blushing a bit and feeling somewhat uneasy being such a focal point after simply doing, what he saw as, his duty.

He came up to a small bar. Structurally, it matched the other homes and buildings, though the rambunctious music and boisterous laughter coming from inside made it stand out. A wooden sign hung from two rusted chains above the door. ‘The Stable’ was printed on it in curvy blood-red colors. With a smile, Rumble pushed open the wood door and was instantly met with the pungent scent of sweat and smoke that couldn’t have contrasted more with the sweetly scented incense of Princess Celestia’s throne room.

The inside of the bar was smoggy, dim, and noisy. Gathered inside were seemingly the sweatiest, meanest, strongest, most repulsive ponies in Canterlot, stallions and mares that looked as if they hadn’t bathed in weeks. Some grinned to show off gold and silver teeth while others had bodies engulfed in scars and wounds that had yet to fully heal. The shimmer of silver in the dark signaled that many patrons had prosthetic limbs. A place like this would repulse most ponies, but to Rumble, it was where he felt most comfortable.

I’m home, he thought with a small laugh. As he walked further in, the smell of tobacco and hard cider continued to cloud his senses, but he was used to it enough that he didn’t cough. Unlike outside, nopony paid him any heed because here he wasn’t a celebrity- he was just another customer. Many ponies in the bar had performed heroic acts in the past so Rumble’s most recent venture was just another ‘notch in his belt’.

In the back corner he caught a glimpse of a table that his friends were sitting at. All legends and warriors in their own right, who like Rumble were celebrities to everyday citizens of Equestria. But here, in the bleak bar where it became a challenge to make out one’s face across the room through the sea of darkness, they were average Joes relaxing.

Sitting in one seat was Soarin’ the Flash, the fastest stallion in Canterlot that was known for saving five unicorns from plummeting to their deaths when their pegasus-pulled chariot flipped over. He was also known for being extraordinarily kind and chivalrous to those that looked up to him. He was also the ‘heartthrob’ knight. Sure, Rumble had a lot of luck with the ladies, but Soarin’ was the stallion that little fillies had pictures of in their bedrooms. The stallion that all mares wanted to marry and that all stallions wanted to be. It was like he was a breathing, trotting, talking pheromone.

Across from him sat the burly figure of Snowflake the Brute, the largest pegasus in Canterlot, if not in all of Equestrian history. Born with tiny wings, he fought to make up for their pathetic size by hitting the gym at an almost addictive rate. Soon his muscles were beyond the point of bulging and, for the most part, defined him. His armor was much too tiny to be of any use on his massive body, though he didn’t let that prevent him from fighting with everything that he had. Rumors spread that he didn’t wear adequate armor because his muscles were so thick any weapon that hit them would bend and break. Amazingly he was a much more gentle soul than he let on, oftentimes enjoying good poetry and literature in front of a roaring fire. Of course he allowed himself to slip into this state of docility only after vanquishing whatever evil lurked in the lands in the most violent, ruthless way possible.

To Snowflake’s left was Quicksilver the Silent, a white earth pony with an orange mane that wore a pair of square rimmed glasses pressed up on the bridge of his nose. Though he might not have been extremely fast, he was VERY quick and could sneak up on enemies in the dead of night, hence how he acquired the nickname, the ‘Stealth Owl’. Some ponies thought of him as a ghost, others as a psycho unleashed. But to Rumble, he was simply one of his friends that could kick serious flank when necessary.

To Snowflake’s right was a brown earth pony known as Caramel the Rational. A soft-spoken pony that relied on wits over brute strength. He was very moralistic to the point where he refused to drink cider unless it had been purged of all alcoholic properties. This resulted him in often being derided as acting ‘holier than thou’ to others which, though overblown, was sometimes accurate. But he was also a master at mending broken bonds through reason and negotiation whenever something threatened a group’s unity. Unfortunately, the fact that he never won hoof-to-hoof combat and wasn’t overly strong meant that he tended to be overshadowed by those around him.

Their laughter was like a magnet drawing Rumble close until he was right behind Soarin’s back. Grinning mischievously, he reached out and clasped his hooves onto the blue pegasus’ shoulder, causing him to jump in his seat and turn towards Rumble with fright-filled eyes.

“Gotcha!” Rumble laughed as Soarin’ calmed down and returned the smile.

“Rumble, my man!” Soarin’ threw his hooves around the colt while the entire table hooted and hollered and, in Snowflake’s case, went “YEAH!”, as they so often did after he returned from a successful mission. Rumble took his seat between Soarin’ and Caramel. Quicksilver ordered him a mug of cider and told him it was ‘on the house’.

“After what you did? Saving the Princess in the desert and slaying a manticore all by yourself? Dude, of course I’d be more than happy to pay for your cider.” Quicksilver said, smiling as he pounded the table. “Did you hear me, get this stallion some cider pronto!”

“I’m pretty sure they heard you Quicksilver, you’re practically shouting.” Caramel said, rubbing his ears as if they hurt. Snowflake downed a massive amount of cider before pulling the drink from his lips and letting out a mighty belch. Smiling, he patted his stomach while the entire table erupted into laughter, except Caramel. “Ugh, dude! Come on!”

“What?” Snowflake asked innocently.

“At least excuse yourself when you let loose like that.”

Snowflake laughed and shook his head. “Oh Caramel, lighten up. We’re just a bunch of guys having fun. I know that’s hard for somepony with a stick up their flank to understand but...honestly, I don’t give a flying feather what you think.”

Caramel rolled his eyes and looked down at his mug of non-alcoholic cider, which was basically apple juice with a little added spice, nursing it.

“Well in Caramel’s defense, that was pretty gross. Come on Snowflake, at least excuse yourself.” Rumble said.

Snowflake sighed and looked at Caramel. “Fine...excusez-moi, Monsieur Caramel.”

The white pegasus put a hoof to his heart and pouted his lips in feigned regret that earned a snicker from both Rumble and Quicksilver. Caramel didn’t respond to the sarcastic response, and now just looked insulted. Regardless, the conversation moved on.

“So, Rumble,” Soarin’ said, clearly trying to move the conversation along before the silence got to be too awkward. “Has Princess Celestia given you any new assignments?”

Rumble shook his head as a mare finally arrived with his cider, dropping it in front of him, “Not yet- thank you...”

“Wait, Thunderlane! Wait!” Rumble shouted, causing his brother to stop telling the story.

Thunderlane sighed. “Now what?”

“Um...you said Rumble the Valiant is a school-aged colt like me. So how can he drink cider?” Rumble asked, his eyebrow raised in inquiry. “You and your friends had to wait until you turned sixteen last year to drink.”

Legally, Thunderlane thought with a snicker before responding to Rumble’s question, “I don’t know. It’s just part of my story.”

“But there’s alcohol in it!”

“What are you a literature critic or something? It’s a bedtime story.” Rumble didn’t respond. Instead, he just stared at Thunderlane, crossing his hooves over his chest. “He might be a colt, but he is also a knight. So by your logic, having a school-aged colt be a knight is acceptable, but having said same knight drink cider is wrong because he’s too young?”

Rumble shrugged, “Hey, I don’t write the law.”

“You want me to change it?” Thunderlane asked, smiling slightly.

Rumble nodded.

“You sure?”

Again, Rumble nodded. “Yes, I’m sure!”

“Alrighty then!” Thunderlane was now sporting a full-out, snarky grin that made Rumble somewhat nervous as to his intentions.

The waitress brought over a fresh bottle of foal formula, which Rumble took and looked at, perplexed at what he had just been handed.

“What the hay is this?” Rumble asked just as he was suddenly transformed into a foal. Mindlessly, he sucked on as if he had gone a whole day without being fed. The bar wasn’t a bar at all, it was, in fact, a daycare center filled with little foals of all kinds.

Little tiny, foal Rumble, with his little dot eyes and adorable gurgling noises, happily drank his formula from his highchair, spilling some on his bib as he adjusted in his seat, his diaper crinkling, to make himself more comfortable just before he stopped drinking and stared off, giggling and drooling all over his little bib.

“Ga-ga, goo-goo,” said Rumble the Valiant foal.

“THUNDERLANE! Stop it!”

Thunderlane laughed, “Sorry man, I couldn’t resist pulling that foal card on you. Who-boy! You should see the look on your face!” Rumble growled and turned over so that he was facing away from Thunderlane. Suddenly Thunderlane laughter slowed to halting chuckles as if he was trying, unsuccessfully, to stop on the spot.

“Rumble, come on I’m only kidding! Jeez, you have no sense of humor at all, do you?” Rumble didn’t respond. Deep down he knew that he was overreacting, but after the trying day he had, what with the chocolate shake and the discovery of his confused feelings towards Scootaloo, he couldn’t help but feel annoyed by his brother’s antics.

“Man, if you can’t tolerate this ribbing, you’re in trouble when you get older and...” Thunderlane stopped as his playful expression vanished, as if he said something that made him regret his scolding of Rumble. He licked his lips and let out a deep sigh. “Okay, I’ll make the story what it was before and have Rumble the Valiant drink non-alcoholic cider. Does that make you feel better?”

Rumble turned around and slowly nodded, giving his brother a weak smile. Thunderlane returned the gesture before continuing with the story.

Rumble the ‘definitely not a foal’ Valiant, took the non-alcoholic drink and started to sip it. He leaned back as he listened to Soarin’ and Quicksilver go into another story. This time, they were talking about a recent mission where they were sent to pursue a suspected anti-monarchist terrorist that authorities had been tracking and believed was part of a master plot to assassinate Princess Celestia.

“So yeah we get to this really grimy place, you know it’s basically a junkyard, and our lead goes into this rinky little building that looks like it’s a gust of wind away from blowing over.” Soarin’ took a drink before continuing. “And then...”

“Can I tell this part, please?” Quicksilver asked with an exaggerated look of pleading. Soarin’ smiled and nodded. With a grin, Quicksilver scooted forward in his chair and cleared his throat before he continued the story. “So anyway, there was one guard and we knew that we could take him no problem, right? Well the concern we had was that we didn’t know how many guards were inside. Would this building lead us directly into a room where these scumbags were having their little anarchist meeting, or would there be another set of doors with two more guards.”

“So what happened?” Snowflake asked eagerly, leaning forward like a little colt listening to his grandfather tell some grand tale of battle.

“Well, we noticed a loosened grate just above the door so me, being the master of stealth that I am I made my way up to the guard in the dark and...” Quicksilver made a chopping motion with his hoof, “BAM! Took him down in one hit to the neck!”

“That’s when I came in.” Soarin’ stated with a steady pride.

“Aw, you’re not gonna let me finish?”

“I thought we could split the story up,” Soarin’ said before he continued, ignoring the look of disappointment on Quicksilver’s face. “Yeah, so I flew over to the grate and pulled it off and then made my way into the vents with Quicksilver right on my flank. We moved quickly, yet kept silent as a couple of snakes in the grass. Finally we heard voices and reached another vent. I looked through it to find a small table where five ponies sat, including our perp.”

“Let me guess. Then you broke through the grate and beat them all, right?” Caramel asked in a slightly know-it-all fashion.

Soarin’ held out a hoof, “Excuse us, this is our story. Let me tell it.” Soarin’ cleared his throat. “So yeah we kicked out the grate, fell down and before they knew what hit them, we beat each of them to a pulp. Then we brought them back to Canterlot in a caged wagon when they were thrown into prison and they’ve been locked away ever since.”

“How long ago was this?” Rumble asked.

“Four months,” Quicksilver jumped in. “It was right after you left for your quest, Rumble.”

“And that,” Soarin’ said, holding out his hoof to Quicksilver, who bumped it, “is how we ended the plot to overthrow Princess Celestia and the Equestrian government.”

Rumble, Caramel, and Snowflake all applauded Soarin’ and Quicksilver at the completion of the tale The two ponies each bowed with grains spread across their reddened cheeks.

As their cheers of kudos died down Soarin’ turned to Rumble. “So, Rumble, why don’t you tell us about your little escapade across Equestria?”

“Yeah, you were all the way out in the desert?” Snowflake asked. With everyone staring at him expectantly, Rumble could feel his heart rate increase and his cheeks blush. He wasn’t the most bashful of ponies, never enjoying to talk about himself for fear that he would sound as if he was bragging.

“Eh, it wasn’t much,” he said, looking down at his drink. He was met with a chorus of ‘come on!’, and ‘tell us!’ from his friends. He knew that he didn’t have much of a choice. But before he could even open his mouth to start telling his tale in as humble a manner as possible, he heard the young, raspy voice of a female filly he had known well and had always felt his heart pound around.

“So, are you and your damsel in distress dating or what?”

Turning, the five ponies at the table looked to see the familiar and determined orange face of none other than the feared pegasus filly, Scootaloo the Archer.

“Oh come on! You’re seriously putting Scootaloo in this story?” Rumble shouted as Thunderlane just looked down at him with the smug smile typical of an older brother knowing that they were grating on the nerves of their younger sibling.

“What, I put my friends in there- Soarin’, Snowflake, Caramel, Quicksilver. It seems only fair to put one of your friends in there since it is a story with a protagonist based on you. Besides, are you really going to tell me you don’t want me to include Scootaloo in your tale.” Thunderlane wiggled his eyebrows and grinned knowingly. He seemed to be having too much fun pushing his brother’s buttons that night. For what reasons, Rumble wasn’t entirely sure.

Regardless, the little colt crossed his forelegs over his chest before exhaling in defeat, his mane slightly raising in the breeze brought from his breath. “Get on with it.”

Scootaloo the Archer, or ‘Scoots’ as everypony called her, trotted over with a smile that radiated confidence. She wore a green shirt with a sheath filled with arrows slung over her back. The ceiling lights shined down onto her cap that had a red feather poking above the brim. Her smile was content, but with an air of self-confidence that still managed to convey a sense of humility, as if she had no problem receiving praise for doing something good and no problem taking the blame for doing something wrong.

She leaned against the table, looking at the five colts in front of her before her eyes landed on the slightly blushing Rumble.

“Well? Are you?” she asked.

Rumble shook his head to clear his mind, “I’m sorry, what was that?”

Scoots snickered. “I was asking if you and Princess Lotus were dating? After all, you did save her from that castle and, well, it always seems knights fall in love with the damsel they save.” Scoots put her hoof up to her forehead and leaned back in an exaggeratedly dramatic fashion as if to mock the very concept of a Princess and her knight in shining armor falling in love. She smiled and fluttered her eyelashes to punctuate her performance.

Rumble sighed, thinking back to the kiss he had shared with the Princess. That moment of bliss as they gazed into each other’s eyes. She was one of the most beautiful ponies he had ever seen, and he would have been lying if he said he hadn’t thought about asking for more than a kiss. But the truth was that’s as far as it got. They returned, she threw her hooves around his neck, and trotted off to her quarters.

“She gave me a kiss to show her gratitude, that’s all she did.” Rumble noticed Scoots’ face seemed to show a moment of uncertainty with a bit of anger, but he passed it off and took another sip of his drink. “It’s a knight’s etiquette to accept the kiss of the mare they save.”

“And what’s the knight’s etiquette when you save a stallion, huh?” Scoots smiled playfully. “A friendly slap on the flank, or do you give them a nice old smooch on the lips as as well?”

Quicksilver and Snowflake started to laugh. Caramel seemed to be miles away and Soarin’ was trying his best to keep a neutral face but Rumble could tell that he wanted to join the other two ponies that were currently laughing like they were in a comedy club.

“No. Usually we treat them to a round of hard cider and a manly round of hoof-wrestling.” Rumble flexed one of his forelegs to show the formation of a slight bicep. The other stallions hooted and hollered, save for Caramel who seemed somewhat annoyed to be around such male camaraderie. He usually seemed more comfortable in front of a book, anyway.

Quicksilver pushed the last empty seat out for Scoots to take. Thanking the red-maned earth pony, she slid into the chair and leaned back, letting out a satisfied sigh. She didn’t even seem to notice how the sheath of arrows was squished between her back and the chair. “If I ever need saving from any of you, please treat me to that instead of a kiss.”

“Don’t worry, we wouldn’t kiss you,” Rumble muttered.

Scoots’ smile vanished, clearly insulted by Rumble’s words. “And why not?”

Rumble shrugged but he could feel himself getting warm. “Because we’re friends and not romantically interested.”

Scoots smirked. “Ah, but you weren’t romantically interested in the Princess, yet you kissed her no problem.”

Now Rumble was confused. “I...I don’t understand. You told me that you didn’t want to be kissed.”

“Oh I don’t,” Scootaloo said, laughing. “I just enjoy making you feel uncomfortable so that I can watch you squirm like an ant under a magnifying glass.”

Scoots winked and the entire table erupted into a juvenile chorus of “oohs” that made Rumble want to hurl his mug of cider into the wall. Fortunately he kept his composure and just stared at Scoots with a look of annoyance. “Whatever.”

“Hey, lighten up I’m only teasing you Rumble. You know that I think you’re awesome.”

Rumble didn’t answer, he focused his attention on the tiny crack in the table, wondering how it got there.

“So you’re just gonna ignore me?”

I wonder if it was caused my somepony slamming their drink–” Rumble thoughts concerning the chip in the table were interrupted by the sound of Scoots slamming her hoof down onto the tabletop. Breathing heavy and heart racing, he looked up to see the filly smiling at him.

“You can’t phase me out that easily.”

Just them the door to the bar burst open and a wild-eyed stallion, panting and sweating up a storm, stood before all of the customers. “Aye, it’s the Minotaurs, it is.” he shouted in a heavy accent that was foreign to Canterlot. “Six of our troops are bein’ held hostage by those mangy mongrels! The Princess is askin’ for some brave knights to meet with her immediately to discuss a rescue operation!”

Everypony at Rumble’s table stood up. The bar’s previously relaxed atmosphere was now bustling in a wild chaos. Ponies showing both anxiety and rage, cursing out the minotaurs and calling them ‘horned devils’ while unicorns felt compelled to jump in and defend those with horns. This led to several fights between unicorns and other ponies that wasn’t entirely uncommon for such a bar, but the sheer number of fights was overwhelming and Rumble and his friends found themselves having to weave their way out of the bar as if they were in a maze. When a unicorn, clearly not in a right state of mind, ran into Snowflake and started punching him, the hulking pegasi simply picked the smaller pony up and tossed him into three others who were in a corner fighting. He then snorted before catching up with the others, who all were staring back at him.

Snowflake, noticing this, paused and shrugged. “What? He got in my way.”

Rumble rolled his eyes and could see that Scoots face-hoofed. They then continued until they were out of the bar and heading down the cobblestone street towards Canterlot Castle, the cool evening air whistling past them like owls swooping in for prey. Rumble knew that they weren’t called on specifically for the task, but being the six toughest ponies in Canterlot, he knew that it was their duty to find them.

When they arrived, immediately they found Princess Celestia standing outside, flanked by her two guards. She sighed, “I suppose you heard about the hostage situation?”

“Yes Princess,” Rumble said, going into a bow, as did the other five ponies he was with. “We are here to find them and bring them home.”

Princess Celestia allowed herself to give a small smile, “I knew you would. But are you sure you’re up to such a task, Rumble? You have only just returned from your last quest, and that wasn’t a trot through the gardens.”

“Positive.” Rumble felt a warm hoof on his back. He turned to see Scoots looking down at him with a determined smile on her face, winking as if to tell Rumble she had his back. “Besides, I’m pretty sure we’ll be the only ones that reach you in the next hour.”

Princess Celestia tilted her head in bewilderment, “What do you mean?”

Suddenly the crazy pony that had told the bar about the guards’ being captured was now running to the Princess with a wild look in his eyes. “Princess, ah tried me hardest to get more ta come down here, but all ah got were these. The rest keep fightin’ like a pack of mangy dogs.”

Princess Celestia closed her eyes and let out a sigh, “Figures.”

“With all do respect, Princess, why don’t you send your guard to rescue them?” Caramel asked. “I mean, they probably outnumber the minotaurs by a huge margin. At least that’s how it has always been.”

“Normally I would agree, but the terrain is much too dangerous for guards to successfully navigate,” Princess Celestia looked up at the six brave knights standing before her with looks of steely determination on their faces. “Knights such as yourselves are more knowledgeable on the dangers that lurk out there. Besides, we need to keep the guards here to protect the city. We have reason to suspect that this action was only a single act of terror by the minotaurs, and that they plan a larger attack in the coming weeks. We cannot risk being short changed here. It is much easier to send out a small group of skilled fighters such as yourselves.”

Rumble took a step forward and nodded. “And we will work until we no longer breathe to bring them home,” he turned to the other five standing behind him, “won’t we?”

‘“YEEEAAAHHH!” Snowflake shouted, pounding his chest with his hoof like a wild barbarian.

“Yes!” Soarin’ threw his hoof into the air and shouted.

“Oh yeah,” Quicksilver growled, pushing his glasses back against the bridge of his nose and snorted like an angry bull trapped in a cage.

“Definitely,” Caramel said with a scowl that showed how he was all business.

“Uh-huh.” Scoots said before spitting at the ground and stomping the saliva into the cobblestone with her hoof.

“Excellent. I wish you the best of luck.” The Princess saluted the six knights, who returned the gesture before trotting off down the road. After a brief talk and agreeing to meet up later that evening after gathering supplies so that they could head off before the sun set, they split off. Rumble trotted down with Scoots by his side. The sky was darkening as the sun sunk and the moon rose and distant stars dotted the sky like sprinkles on indigo icing.

“I’m still not entirely comfortable with you tagging along, you know that.” Rumble said.

“What? Because I’m a filly?” Scoots laughed, sticking her tongue out when Rumble stopped and whipped his head to look at her in a brief moment of emotion.

“No. Because I care about you.” Rumble quickly reeled his outburst back and bit his lip. “And I’m afraid that you could get hurt out there, it’s pretty dangerous.”

Scoots raised an eyebrow and smirked, pulling an arrow from her sheath and pulling it against the string of the bow. Before Rumble could say anything, Scoots released the string and the arrow shot off before piercing through a tin can that had been perched on a railing outside of a pharmacy. It flew back and stuck to the wooden wall of the shop, hanging loosely from the arrow shaft.

Sighing, Rumble turned to Scoots, who twirled the bow in her hoof before throwing it back over her shoulder and into the sheath.

“I think I can handle myself buddy-boy. This isn’t my first adventure, and nothing scares me. I laugh in the face of danger. Haha!” Scoots laughed haughtily. Rumble, too exhausted to retort and knowing that she had a valid point, simply let out a sigh and glanced up to find the filly sticking her tongue out and trotting down the road, shaking her head and laughing quietly. “See ya later tonight, Rumble.”

Rumble let out a long sigh as he watched the little filly vanish into the darkness. He trotted over to his home, no larger or more elaborate than any other. It was two stories tall, had walls made of finely sanded wood, and a slanting roof top resembling two waves meeting back to back, the crest of each blooming as if about to crash on parallel shores.

Inside wasn’t any more ornate. It was so dark and silent that Rumble’s first hoofsteps upon the hardwood floor echoed all around. Lighting a nearby candle to provide some light, Rumble closed the door behind him, the latch clicking into place. He stood in place for a moment and took a deep breath, inhaling the homely scent of the wooden floors before slowly exhaling.

Finally, he was alone.

Trotting over to his tiny, cramped living area, armor still clanking against his body with each step like a set of melancholy drums, he slumped back onto his soft couch and stared across at the peach-colored walls. Moments passed as the nearby grandfather clock ticked and ticked. Rumble leaned his head back against the cushion and listened to the repetitive sound of the clock as images of Scoots filled his mind like a wonderful, living daydream.

The sound of the grandfather clock outside of Rumble’s room striking nine made the colt jump slightly, if not for how sudden and unexpected it was, then for how eerie it was that it matched Thunderlane’s story. The only difference was that he was in his bed with Scoots smiling at him instead of in the living room on the couch with nopony save for himself.

Thunderlane took a deep breath and smiled. “I think we’ll stop there for tonight. How does that sound?”

Rumble’s eyes went wide. “What? But it was about to get good!”

“I know. And that means all the more to look forward to tomorrow.” Thunderlane stretched and let out a massive yawn that made Rumble to yawn as well, almost as if contagious. But that didn’t mean he wanted to go to bed, at least not yet. How could he go to sleep when he was so excited about finding out about the start to Rumble and the other’s quest?

“Come on!” he complained before yawning. He tried to stifle it but Thunderlane saw it.

“You’re tired, dude. Listen, if it makes you feel any better I’ll read to you for even longer tomorrow. It’s a Friday so you can stay up until eleven and I can tell you all about the epic quest of Rumble, Soarin’, Caramel, Snowflake, Quicksilver and...Scoots the Archer.” Thunderlane made ‘kissy kissy’ faces which annoyed his younger brother.

“Very funny.” Rumble muttered. At that moment the sounds of a furious banging downstairs rang out, causing the two brothers to turn their attention to the closed door leading out of the room.

“What is that?” Rumble asked.

“It’s nothing,” Thunderlane muttered before he turned back to his brother, the glimmer of playfulness he had moments before was gone. “Get some sleep little man, and enjoy your dreams.”

Thunderlane kissed Rumble on the head and, like always, the little colt squirmed and said how ‘gross’ it was. The older stallion then left his younger brother in the dark and closed the door. He pressed his ear to the door to listen and make sure Rumble wasn’t getting up to follow him, something he had feared ever since his father had started to come home violent and drunk.

The knocking persisted and Thunderlane knew he had to go do what he did every night. He could only hope that his father was too drunk to put up a fight, and not hostile. He ran downstairs and flung open the door to find a wiry, wide-eyed stallion with a frazzled grey mane and mangy black coat. His violet eyes were glazed over and disoriented.

This was Typhoon Haze, Thunderlane and Rumble’s infamously drunk father.

At the very first glance, Thunderlane knew that, just like most nights, Typhoon wasn’t interested in simply collapsing on the couch for sleep.

“What the heck took you so long?” the older pony hissed, pushing his way past Thunderlane who scrunched his nose at the heavy scent of alcohol that trailed him. Thunderlane closed the door and turned to see his father stumble slowly towards the kitchen. Following at a reasonable distance, Thunderlane could tell that his father was a loose canon and he knew that saying the wrong thing could set him off on a drunken tirade.

The drunk stallion opened the fridge and looked inside, his head moving up and then down to scan the entire inside before he closed the door. “Where’s dinner?”

Thunderlane swallowed, his dry through stinging as the saliva travelled down. He was nervous, but kept his outer composure. “You see...got Rumble and myself some cereal after we got back from the hospital. He had...um...an allergic reaction to chocolate.”

Typhoon slowly turned around, his eyes boring holes into Thunderlane’s very soul. “And what about me? Hm? What did you expect me to clap my hooves together and ‘poof!’ my dinner would magically appear? I’m not a unicorn.”

“But you’re an adult.” Thunderlane muttered, a rising anger building within him. “Besides, I’d think you’d be more concerned about your son being admitted to the hospital than about dinner.”

Typhoon stared a moment as if he couldn’t believe the words coming from his son’s mouth. Then he smiled, slowly sauntering up to Thunderlane, swaying in a manner that the younger stallion couldn’t tell if it was meant to be intimidating or simply an effect of his binging. “You sassing me, boy?”

“I’m speaking my mind.” Thunderlane hissed under his breath. The overbearing presence of his father was all too frightening, but he was determined to stand his ground, ignoring how powerless he actually felt. Memories of black eyes and facial cuts that never fully healed flashed through his mind. He knew that he was going to have to fight his drunk father, just as he had almost every night since their mother had left them.

“So you are,” Typhoon laughed in a halting way only a drunk can. “You know, you always were a coward, Thunderlane. Always trying to avoid confrontation whenever possible.”

“How can that be true when I’m here standing in front of your drunken flank?” Thunderlane asked, taking a cautious step forward. He almost gagged at the smell of his father’s alcohol-laden breath.

“What about Rumble? Why don’t you let him come down here to see me?”

“He doesn’t need to.”

“Why? Because then the little charade you’ve worked so hard to create would be shattered?”

Thunderlane closed his eyes and looked down, clenching his teeth tight. “Shut up.”

“Because then you’ll have to explain to him why his daddy is an angry drunk that beats on his older brother every night?”

“Shut up.”

“You might think you’re big and bad, but in reality you’re a coward that’s only doing it to avoid Rumble discovering the truth.”

“I said shut up you drunk jerk!” Thunderlane growled through his teeth at a loud enough volume to get his point across, yet quiet enough not to alert Rumble. He now looked up into Typhoon’s eyes with a fiery hatred held back only by the immaculate self control he had developed over the years. “I’m doing it to protect Rumble and his mentality. He doesn’t need you to come barging in and ruin it for him.”

“You mean protecting his innocence?” Typhoon laughed, shaking his head. “Son, let me tell you a little something about ‘innocence’. It is a fleeting phase of life that we all eventually outgrow. No amount of masking the truth,” Typhoon trotted over to the table and grabbed the minotaur horns that still were out from earlier, “through your little fantasy crap and playing pretend with him is gonna save him!”

With that he threw the horned helmet at Thunderlane, who leapt to dodge it. The sound of plastic hitting the ground and rattling sent a shiver up Thunderlane’s spine. Remaining slightly airborne, he watched as his father approached him with a renewed look of malice in his eyes.

“So why delay the inevitable? Call my son down here so I can say hello.” Maintaining a death scowl, Thunderlane shook his head. His father smirked. “Exactly. You’re a pathetic coward and standing up to me every night will never change that. In fact, by doing so you’re turning Rumble into a coward as well. Maybe I am a failure as a father,”

Don’t you dare say what I think you’re going to say. Thunderlane thought.

“...after all...”

I swear to Celestia

“...no good father would raise both of his sons to be cowards.”

This was all Thunderlane could take. Without thinking, he shoved his father back so that he stumbled a few feet before hitting his back against the wall. Regaining his composure, he looked back up at his son and gave him a sinister smile. Thunderlane’s little act of provocation was all he needed to do to trigger his father’s rage.

Before the now regretful Thunderlane could speak up, his father lunged at him and took him down, smashing his hooves into his son’s face a few times: left, right, left, right, left, right. Thunderlane could feel his nose crack and his eyes get smashed and swell shut. He grunted as he tried to fight back, but it was no use. He was pinned and at the mercy of the drunken psycho.

With one final blow to his son’s gut, causing the younger stallion to clutch his abdomen and gag, Typhoon had stopped. Clearly exhausted, and satisfied in making his point clear to his bloodied son, the older pony got off of his son and stumbled over to the couch.

“And not only are you a coward. You’re weak and pathetic, both mentally,” Thunderlane tried to sit up, only to be pushed back down by a sneering Typhoon, “and physically.”

Typhoon fell belly-first onto the couch and sighed.

“How long do you think you can hide that from Rumble?”

With a drunken laugh the older stallion fell asleep. Thunderlane was panting, his nose bleeding into his mouth and his fur covered in a mix of his and his father’s sweat. Slowly he let his head fall back onto the soft carpet, still breathing heavily as the silence was broken by the sounds of his father’s uneven snoring.

He wanted to forget what his father had told him, and dismiss it as nothing more than drunken blather. There was absolutely no substance behind it, after all. He was doing everything he did for Rumble, and Rumble alone.

But then he thought harder, and slowly started to realize that perhaps his intentions were a bit cowardly. He didn’t want to face the day when Rumble would lose his innocence, and realize the truth of his father. If possible, he wished he could delay it indefinitely and keep Rumble in his little cocoon of happiness.

But for what reason did he feel compelled to do so? Certainly protecting Rumble was important, but it was just one piece of the puzzle. Personally, Thunderlane knew that he couldn’t deal with seeing his little brother lose the spark of foal hood joy he still had in his eyes, something that had left Thunderlane so long ago and only returned when he played around with Rumble, for his happiness was Thunderlane’s happiness.

He was scared about what the revelation would do to their relationship. How would Rumble take the news in regards to Thunderlane keeping him in the dark for so long? Would he blame him for hiding the truth? Would he no longer look up to him not only because he was a liar but because he was weak and couldn’t stand up to Typhoon without getting bludgeoned? For so long he knew Rumble looked up to both him and Typhoon like heroes. What would happen if he saw the ugly truth; that his father was an angry, violent drunk and his brother was not the strong hero he believed him to be?

Thunderlane didn’t want to find out, and perhaps he was afraid of losing the one avenue he had to dream. If Rumble was no longer the little colt with the wild imagination that he was now, where else could Thunderlane go to escape reality and embrace fantasy? Thunderlane’s playing with Rumble and telling him epic stories had always been a brief distraction from the cold, unsettling truth that was reality before it came pounding at the door after a long night at the bar. Could he really give up the little sliver of serenity he had managed to salvage in the pile of manure that was his real life and maintain his sanity?

No, he knew that he couldn’t and pressing his hooves to his eyes and breathing deep and quick, he silently wept under the ceiling lights that shone bright up above for a long while and reflected on his personal assessment of his character.

I am a coward.

Two Tickets, Two Tales

Chapter 7- Two Tickets, Two Tales

Rumble awoke to the sudden bright flash of his bedside lamp being flicked on. Groaning and shielding his eyes that had been made sensitive by sleep, he looked to find Thunderlane smiling down at him. It was his typical, ‘good morning bro’ smile, a subtle one that wordlessly conveyed all the kindness and love he felt for the little colt. Even with the light provided, the room was still dark as there was even a noticeable absence of sunlight coming in from outside, the morning sky being a melancholy grey instead of its usual vibrancy of blue and orange. The patter of rain against the window was calm and soothing. It would have been perfect weather to sleep through on the weekend.

Rumble wasn’t exactly certain in the relative darkness, but he thought that Thunderlane’s face appeared to be a bit disproportionate. His nose looked bruised and his left cheek looked swollen. But before he could contemplate this further in his still-dreamy state, Thunderlane spoke up.

“Hey there sport, did you sleep well?” Thunderlane asked, his voice was ragged, as if he had spent the entire night screaming and yelling through some terrible nightmare.

“Uh-huh, like a foal crashing from a sugar high.” Rumble yawned as he extended his hooves towards the ceiling, stretching them until he heard the joints let out little pops and cracks. After smacking his dry lips and rubbing his eyes to clear the crust that was stuck to his lids, he looked back up at his older brother and smiled. He was still in the fog between sleep and consciousness that one so often gets upon having just woken up.

Thunderlane snickered, “Well I’m glad to hear that, and I hope you feel well-rested. The last thing I would want is for you to go through the day like a zombie. Save that for when your older and stuck doing some dead-end job that you can’t stand.” Thunderlane tousled Rumble’s mane and, as usual, Rumble pulled back and tried to swat his brother’s hooves back like a swarm of gnats.

“Stop it!” Rumble said, stifling laughter. “And what makes you think I’ll end up at a dead-end job? I’m gonna have an awesome job that’s fun and makes me rich!” Rumble then looked down at his flank, seeing the plain grey fur, without a course or destiny to speak of. “Once I figure out what my cutie mark will me.”

“I know you will. I’m just trying to make a point.” Thunderlane said.

“Is that all you wanted to know? If I slept well? Because if so that seems pointless...and actually kind of creepy.” Rumble gave a small, playful smile.

Thunderlane let out a soft laugh and shook his head. “Nope. There’s more. Actually, I have a surprise for you.”

“A surprise? What kind of surprise?” Rumble asked, his sleepiness now all but replaced with a great perkiness. Suddenly a bit of skepticism washed over him. “Wait, is it a good surprise or a bad surprise?”

He hoped that whatever surprise his brother had for him would be a good one, rather than ‘yeah, I’ve got a pile of dirty clothes for you to clean after school’ or ‘sure, I hope you like some sun and the roof, because you’re gonna spend the afternoon cleaning the gutters!’– he hated when Thunderlane pulled a fast one on him. It made him feel leery towards his otherwise trustworthy and respectable brother. But it was natural for brothers, even those that were the best of friends, to occasionally mess with each other in playful ways.

Thunderlane nodded. “Now, you know how my friend Soarin’ is a Wonderbolt, right?”

“Duh. He’s the one that signed my Wonderbolts t-shirt with his face on it!”

“Hehe, yep that’s him.”

“And that’s why you made his character super fast in my bedtime story, right? Soarin’ the Flash! Faster than fast! Brasher than dash!”

“Faster than fast and brasher than dash?” Thunderlane asked, eyebrow raised inquisitively.

“I just thought that up now.” Rumble said, grinning. “The last bit relates to that mare Rainbow Dash, the one you talk about?”

“Oh yeah, haha.” Thunderlane said with a blush, rubbing the back of his neck. “But, uh, could you keep the fact that I use my friends as models in my bedtime stories between us? It’s not exactly a thing a macho colt should be doing, even in private.”

Rumble nodded, taking a little pleasure from noticing his brother’s obvious insecurity. He might have been silly at home, but out in the real world, with all the mares watching, Thunderlane always preferred to be seen as the typical, mature, manly stallion. He was always on the scout for a potential date, so his public image was important. It was what made his transformation into the fun-loving pony at home such a shift in character. Rumble knew that if others discovered that Thunderlane had inserted doppelgangers of his friends into a foal’s bedtime story for Rumble, that image would be ruined.

Upon confirmation that the story content would remain between the brother, a flash of relief passed over Thunderlane’s face and he cleared his throat to continue speaking.

“Well, one of the many perks he has as a Wonderbolt is that he gets first dibs on tickets to pass out to friends and family and whatnot for shows and...well...” Slowly, with the look and smile of a pony ready to show off something that would be met with magnificent excitement, Thunderlane pulled out two tickets and waved them in front of Rumble’s face. The colt’s eyes grew wide at the sight, his heart fluttering quickly as if it were Hearth’s Warming Eve morning and he just then remembered that he had presents waiting for him downstairs.

Rumble let out a sample of his excitement in the form of a small gasp. “Are those tickets for the Wonderbolts show this afternoon?”

Thunderlane smirked slyly. “Why don’t you see for yourself.”

Not having to be told a second time, Rumble snatched the tickets and gazed down at them, his eyes like sponges absorbing the sight before him. Running the tip of his hoof over its smooth, laminated surface, he could feel his grin spread across his face. He had always been a huge fan of the Wonderbolts, both for their profound flying abilities that he dreamed of one day of matching and their dedication. Thunderlane always talked about little time Soarin’ had to hang out with them because of his practices and performances, which was a shame because out of all of Thunderlane’s friends, Rumble liked being around Soarin’ the most. But even through his disappointment he couldn’t help but respect the blue pegasus. Deep down hoped that one day, he too could find something he was equally as passionate about, where long nights and less time with friends was a small price to pay for doing what he loved.

Perhaps he too would accomplish that by joining the Wonderbolts.

And even though Thunderlane and had been close friends with Soarin’, one of the most famous Wonderbolts, Rumble himself had only attended two shows, restrained both by location of the event as well as his and Thunderlane’s availability. Rumble had a decent amount of free time on weekends, but Thunderlane’s schedule was always unpredictable. Some Saturdays and Sundays he would be free, during which both he and Rumble would go to the park or just hang out at home like a couple of couch potatoes. Other times the weekends were less forgiving, and Thunderlane found himself working weather duty from nine to five only to come home exhausted.

Plus money had always been scarce for the family, even now with both Typhoon and Thunderlane bringing home two different salaries, and Wonderbolt tickets were not cheap.

Still, this lack of attendance didn’t deter Rumble from showing his adoration for the team. He had a plethora of merchandise, ranging from colored t-shirts to pennant flags to mini-figurines of Wonderbolt members: Spitfire, Soarin’, Misty Fly, Fleetfoot, and more. He even had a replica of an authentic Wonderbolts uniform that Thunderlane had given him for his last birthday. So it was perfectly understandable that Rumble, sitting in bed with a pair of tickets in his hooves to see the very ponies he worshipped perform live, felt exceptionally giddy, borderline ecstatic.

Wanting to express his gratitude for the gift, Rumble threw his hooves around Thunderlane’s neck in a tight hug, squeezing with all of his might and only stopping when the feeling of Thunderlane pounding his back and the sound of him gasping for breath alerted him to the fact that he was strangling him. Once out of his brother’s death-grip, Thunderlane took a deep breath and rubbed his throat.

“Chill dude,” he laughed, his voice extremely rough and grating now. “I’m happy you like them, but try to show your affection in a way that doesn’t crush the life out of me. Listen, I’ll meet you at the schoolhouse around two–”

“Wait? You’re actually picking me up today? Like, coming up to the school to get me?” Rumble asked, his tiny wings buzzed slightly. Thunderlane almost never met his younger brother after school. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to, rather he either had to work late or simply preferred to greet Rumble in one of his ridiculous monster or knight costumes. So now with this news that he would actually get to see his brother upon exiting the classroom, Rumble’s excitement piqued and he could hardly contain the pure rush of joy he felt course throughout his veins, from his head to his tail and everywhere in-between.

Today would be a good day.

After trudging his way through the heavy downpour and deep puddles and thunder cracking up above, Rumble finally reached the schoolhouse. There were no sounds of students playing, only some hushed conversations among friends walking towards the school and the sound of rushing water pouring out from the building’s gutter and into the grass. The clock above the door showed he had four minutes before the final bell would sound. But even with the weather being dreary and miserable, he was in too peppy a mood to care. He was humming to himself and as he trotted there was a slight spring in his step– not enough to be considered girly, but enough to convey his joy to the world around him.

All he had to do was survive one school day and he would be on his way to the Wonderbolts show. Bonus, the weather was scheduled to improve before then as the pegasi had planned to clear the skies in time for the Wonderbolts so the spectators wouldn’t be drenched. There was added incentive since most of the pegasi would be in attendance, and as much as they enjoyed the weather, they still preferred sunny skies to torrential downpours.

Rumble’s dark blue, almost purple, poncho was soaked, rain-water running down it and dripping onto the floor at his hooves. He trotted over to the coat-rack in the front, right corner of the classroom. He  quickly shed it like a snake ridding itself of its tight, outer skin, and breathed a sigh of relief once free of its frigidness. The warm, heated air of the schoolhouse felt welcome against his body.

More students started to spill inside as Rumble finally found an available peg on the coat-hanger. Whenever it rained, finding space on the hanger was a challenge and only the earliest arrivals would be able to get the lower, easier to reach, pegs. Others would have to wait for Cheerilee to come in and hang theirs up on the top pegs. Getting help from Cheerilee was very degrading and deserving of scorn, at least to most of Rumble’s classmates. He never felt that way– perhaps because he was usually the one that needed her assistance.

But today he was lucky. Tossing the hood over one of the last low-reach pegs, Rumble started to make his way over towards his desk when he heard a familiar, nasally voice.

“Hey Tumble!”

Rumble froze. Oh, great.

He turned around to see exactly who he thought. Orange Berry, his mane greasy and gross, swaggered over with two of his cronies in tow. He was smiling with a smugness that revealed both his poor character and his equally repugnant yellowing teeth. Some days his breath would be laced with the scent of garlic and onions. Others it would carry the odor of a compost heap.

Today it smelled like the latter and Rumble scrunched his nose in displeasure and he let out a small gag that nopony seemed to notice. At least that was his hope; he would hate to find out the ramification to having Orange see him gag at the rancid smell of his breath.

“What do you guys want?” Rumble asked.

“Do any Tumbling today, Tumble? Your little chicken-bone wings failing to keep you afloat?” Orange sneered, absentmindedly hoof-bumping one of his cronies without even looking. He had no respect.

“You do know I can fly, right? Calling me Tumble doesn’t make sense anymore. If you’re going to mock me, at least don’t make stuff up.”

Orange snickered. “Sorry, but once a tumbler, always a tumbler. Even if the stars align and you somehow manage to get onto the Wonderbolts that name will always stick, Tumble” Orange Berry laughed, as did his cronies once his laughter gave them permission. “Not that it will happen, only the best pegasi in the world get into that group. They don’t have time to scrape the bottom of the barrel for you.”

“Haha, very funny.”

Orange smirked and continued his verbal assault. “Yep, the truth can be funny. You still fly worse than most foals.”

“I do not!” Rumble shouted back.

“Do so. At least they don’t crash into everything like that stupid cross-eyed mail pony. You, however, are an even worse flyer than her. I know it, and you know it. All you have to do is admit it.”

Rumble found his words caught in his throat, but then he saw a familiar blur of orange enter through the door. Looking behind Orange Berry, he saw Scootaloo standing, talking with Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle. All three wore raincoats, seemingly oblivious to the confrontation occurring beside them near the coat-rack between the newest member of their club and the class’ designated jerk.

He had two options. He could either walk away, as he normally did, or he could try his hoof at standing firm and proud. As he looked over at Scootaloo, he began to think. What would Rumble the Valiant do if he was being confronted in front of Scoots the Archer?

He imagined the prideful version of himself, sword in hoof and snide smile on his face. The image of the knight nodded encouragingly, and Rumble decided not to leave and let Orange gain a symbolic victory over his pride. Swallowing, but feeling inner strength that was normally absent, Rumble channeled his inner bravery and knight, he took a step forward, chest puffed out like a powerful bird, and stared Orange down like the maggot he was.

“No, I won’t, because you’re wrong! I am a good flier! Heck, I was able to participate in the tornado formation for the Cloudsdale reservoir, wasn’t I?”

“Yeah right, I still don’t believe that one bit.” Orange laughed, pulling Rumble’s poncho from the rack and tossing his own raincoat in its place. “Personally, I think you painted some random colt grey and paid him to pretend to be you.”

Scootaloo’s violet eyes met Rumble’s, and Rumble felt another surge of pride well up from deep within, like a fire of determination. Turning back to Orange, he opened his mouth and let spill his retort in a harsh, bitter way.

“How would you know? You weren’t there. Heck, you aren’t even a pegasus, so you can’t even fly you grounded, wingless buffoon!” Rumble snapped before looking around at those watching the argument, including a few unicorns and earth ponies. Worried that he offended them, he quickly added. “No offence to other non-pegasi.”

Orange Berry stared at Rumble as if he had grown a third head. Though he did not outwardly show it, Rumble felt great shock by the vitriol in his own words. Never in his life has he retorted so harshly at his tormentor. It was usually custom for him to let the words roll of his back and go to his seat in the back corner.

But now he was livid, breathing heavy and taking the occasional glance over at Scootaloo, who was now smirking in silent approval of his performance. He thought he could see Sweetie Belle and Apple Bloom smiling as well, but he didn’t notice. He only took a direct look at the orange pegasus.

“Why you little half-pint son of a...” Orange Berry raised his hoof to smack Rumble when a yellow hoof grabbed his own. Before he could react, Apple Bloom pulled his foreleg to the floor with such a force that he grunted in pain, and pushed the colt back and away from Rumble.

“Why don’t ya back off?”

“Or do you wanna fight? I’ll take you down like a lumberjack takes down trees!” Scootaloo snarled, her little wings beating with fervor, getting her airborne for a moment. This sight made Rumble’s heart beat like Scootaloo’s hummingbird-like wings. Clearly, she had learned much from hanging around with Rainbow Dash.

Orange Berry rubbed his leg and opened his mouth as if to shoot back with a retort, but then stopped. It was as if the words were so precariously perched on his tongue, yet he could not utter them. For a brief second his lips quivered in a feeble attempt to wrangle them back up before it closed. Scowling, he turned to Rumble and his mouth curled up into a smirk. “Saved by a bunch of fillies, how fitting. Sad thing is you’re more girly than they are.”

Laughing, Orange Berry pushed by, his ‘minions’ following him lockstep. The sight reminded Rumble of the baby ducklings Fluttershy was helping to cross the road the morning before, and how they must mindlessly follow their mother’s lead. The image of the bullies quacking in unison almost made him crack a smile, but his serious stare was firm and set, only broken when he felt the reassuring hoof of Scootaloo on his shoulder.

“Are you okay?” she asked, looking at him.

He nodded, “Yeah, thanks. That jerk really gets on my nerves. I’m sorry you guys had to get involved.”

“You don’t have to apologize. It isn’t your fault that jerk picks on you.” Sweetie Belle said, walking to Rumble’s other side.

“And we totally empathize with you on that. Bullies can be real pains in the flank. We know.” Scootaloo said, trotting over to the coat rack and placing her raincoat, and Rumble’s, which she picked up from the ground, onto hooks. Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle hung their coats up as well.

As Scootaloo turned back to Rumble, smiling that sweet smile that made his heart transform into taffy, he was about to ask for an explanation but, as if to unintentionally prove Scootaloo’s claim to be valid, the two arrogant fillies, Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon, trotted over.

“Speaking of which...” Scootaloo trailed off as the snooty fillies trotted over, like they owned the place.

“Like, how’s it going blank flanks?” Diamond Tiara sneered as Silver Spoon laughed. Her eyes were suddenly fixed on Rumble and she stopped, staring at him with the utmost smugness it made Rumble want to curl up timidly like an abused puppy. But then he remembered Scootaloo was there, so he stood his ground. “I see you recruited poor Rumble to your little band of losers.” She leaned towards Rumble so he got a full whiff of her perfume which, admittedly, was far more pleasing to the nostrils than the kinds of scents Orange would carry with him. “Word of advice, you don’t want to hang around these three. You already uncool enough without their help bringing you down.”

The fillies laughed and Rumble scowled. He opened his mouth to retort when Scootaloo stepped in front of him and got right up into Diamond Tiara’s face so that their noses were almost touching. Rumble could hardly see any space between them. Scootaloo looked like a violent, rabid wolf ready to pounce on some weak prey.

For a moment Rumble pictured her with a sheath of arrows flung over her shoulder, much like Scoots the Archer, and he blushed.

“Excuse me? What did you call him?”

These words made both snarky fillies stopped their obnoxious laughing. Silver Spoon stared in disbelief while Diamond Tiara just smiled as if she thought the entire situation was too delicious.

“Um, duh, I called him uncool. What are you a loser and deaf?”

Diamond Tiara had just started to laugh again when Scootaloo snapped.

“Well he hasn’t done anything to you, so don’t drag him into this, Prissy Pants!” Without warning, Scootaloo shoved Diamond Tiara back slightly.

All laughter ceased, followed by some gasps and then complete silence. So much silence, in fact, that if somepony decided to drop the tiniest pin or coin onto the ground it would have clanked with the force of a boulder. Scootaloo was staring down the two jerk fillies, steam coming out of her nose like an angry bull, her wings once again flared out and buzzing every now and then. Rumble could feel the blush he had the day before coming back, but he didn’t try to hide it. He was too grateful and happy to see Scootaloo defend him that he couldn’t look away. It was awesome enough watching her stand up to Orange Berry for his sake, but this was just the gravy on the potatoes.

“What, do you like him or something?” Diamond Tiara sneered.

“No! I mean...yes. B-but not like that!” Scootaloo calmed her nerves down when it seemed she had gotten over the apparent embarrassment caused by what Diamond Tiara had just said. “We’re just friends. And friends stand up for friends when they’re being bullied.”

“Haha!” Diamond Tiara laughed. Silver Spoon smiled but didn’t join in, she remained the silent observer. “Oh Scootaloo, this isn’t just standing up for a ‘friend’. This is defending the honor somepony you have feelings for! Don’t deny it, I can see it in your eyes.”

“Yeah,” Silver Spoon parroted like the typical follower she was.

“Scoots and Rumble sitting in a tree! K-I-S-S-I-N-G!” Diamond Tiara said in a sing-sing voice before she and Silver Spoon broke out into a fit of laughter.

“Cut it out,” Scootaloo said, her voice wavering like she was about to cry. Rumble knew he had to do something and before either Apple Bloom of Sweetie Belle, both of whom looked livid, could do anything, he had stepped beside Scootaloo, shooting a scowl with equal vitriol at Diamond Tiara.

“Yeah, you spoiled brats.” Unconsciously, he placed a hoof onto Scootaloo’s shoulder, an act that only caused Diamond Tiara, and now Silver Spoon, to start cracking up even more. They might as well have been in a comedy club during primetime. Some other ponies in the class even started to join in as well, snickering and laughing in lockstep– such is typical of school-aged bystanders, never wanting to get their hooves dirty and content to silently stand on the sidelines and watch, or worse, pipe in with their own taunting.

Rumble blushed and retracted his hoof, as he knew that he had just made matters worse for himself as well as Scootaloo.

“Aw! Look at the lovely couple fighting for their honor. It’s so cute.” Diamond Tiara mocked before she and Silver Spook started to cackle. “What’s the matter? Is it because both of you have messed up families. Is that why you’re so close, like, trying to find comfort in each other that you aren’t alone in your loserdom?”

Rumble was confused at this assertion, wondering why she would say his family was screwed up when before he had the chance to Scootaloo lunged herself at Diamond Tiara and brought her to the ground. There was a massive, unanimous gasp followed by a hush all across the room as Scootaloo sat on Diamond Tiara. The pink filly looked up in fright at the scowling face of Scootaloo. She was scowling and breathing heavy, and her violet eyes glistened with tears. She leaned over Diamond Tiara like a spectre, their faces were inches apart. In Rumble’s eyes, she was no longer a school-aged filly. She was a ferocious fighter.

“Don’t you dare talk about my family you rich, pink snob!” she growled. Now Diamond Tiara was squirming in fright and, as awesome as the sight was to Rumble, he knew that he had to take care of things before they got out of hoof. He trotted over to her and touched her on the back.

“Scootaloo, calm down.” Scootaloo turned towards Rumble. Her teeth were bared liked a rabid dog, her eyes were glassy and showing a volatile mix of fear, anger and sorrow. Rumble was taken aback slightly. “Scoots...” He paused and swallowed, his throat dry as a feeling of panic overwhelmed him.

Before he had the chance to keep calming her down, the final bell sounded. Nopony moved to their seats or spoke or did anything but stare awestruck at the scared-looking Diamond Tiara being pinned by the enraged filly. A few seconds passed and Cheerilee finally trotted inside with Featherweight and an umbrella that had been turned inside-out. She was wearing a neon orange raincoat that nearly blinded Rumble.

“Good morning class. Sorry it took me so long out there, I was helping Featherweight chase down his umbrella in the rain. It’s like a hurricane outside.” she then saw Scootaloo pinning Diamond Tiara to the floor, and the utter shock and terror in everypony’s face. She looked at the two fillies that were at the heart of the conflict. “What’s going on in here?”

Diamond Tiara opened her mouth to speak when suddenly Scootaloo sprinted out of the school house.

“Scootaloo?” Cheerilee asked, but it was too late. The pegasus was already gone, running out into the pouring rain to her scooter, which she hopped on and sped off. She vanished into the storm, the sound of her scooter’s engine still audible over the pelting rain.

What happened next was based solely on instinct, and some other feeling Rumble couldn’t quite put his hoof on, or was too embarassed to. He ran over to the coat-rack, grabbed his slicker as well as Scootaloo’s, and ran after her. He ignored the concerned beckoning of Cheerilee as well as the snide, insufferable voice of Diamond Tiara calling after him like a child whose most ridiculous claim was proven correct.

“See! I was right. They are in love.”

Geez-louise, shut up already! Rumble thought without breaking stride. The rain bounced off the plastic material of his raincoat like tiny beads as he ran into the blind haze looking for Scootaloo. As he ran the hood of his raincoat flew back and his mane started to get wet, but it didn’t stop him.

He didn’t get far– only to the end of the sidewalk outside of the schoolhouse– when he saw a shadowy figure up ahead through the sheets of rain.

Pulling his hood back over his head and spitting out some rainwater that had gotten into his mouth, he trotted up to the distraught Scootaloo. She had stopped her scooter and was now standing in place with one hoof on the ground and one on the device, as if she were contemplating whether she should hop off and return to the school or keep driving to Celestia knows where. The rain streamed down her body like little veins, and most noise was drowned out by the sound of rain pelting the ground. But even then, Rumble could make out the filly’s quiet sobs.

“Scootaloo?” He asked.

The filly slowly turned her head around, sniffling. Getting a good look at her face, it was also clear that she was shivering in addition to crying.

“R-rumble? What...what are you doing? Why did you follow me out here?”

Rumble took another step closer, ignoring the wet feeling on his hoof as it went into a small puddle. “Because you ran out of the classroom like you were being chased by a swarm of bees, and you’re crying. I wanted to make sure you’re okay.”

Scootaloo continued to stare, almost in disbelief. Had it really come to such a shock to her that he ran after her? “I’m fine. I just...I just lost control of myself back there. You don’t have to be concerned about it, really.”

There was a brief pause. Rumble wasn’t certain of what to say. He was only a colt, for crying out loud. He didn’t even understand what the term ‘bucking’ meant when appli

“I sorta understand how you feel. I mean, Diamond Tiara was pushing you past your limits, especially when she mocked your family.”

“She does that a lot,” Scootaloo muttered. “Picks on my like I’m worthless.”

“That’s kinda like Orange Berry does with me.”

Scootaloo sniffled and wiped her nose again on the back of her hoof. “I guess we’re more similar than I thought.”

“I guess so. Not that that’s a problem. I think it’s cool.”

Before Scootaloo could respond, their focus was broken by the sound of Cheerilee calling out to them from the doorway of the school.

“Rumble! Scootaloo! Wait a minute! Don’t run off!”

Rumble turned around to see her trotting over to them through the thick curtains of rain that continued to pour down, umbrella over her head. He then turned back to Scootaloo, who was shivering as the cold drops of rain continued to soak her fur. He held her raincoat out to her. It was blue, and had a Wonderbolts logo on it, which Rumble stared at. He made a mental note to ask her about it later and looked up at the teeth-chattering filly.

“Also, here. I thought you might want this for the rain.”

She stared at it for a moment before she slowly took it from his hooves and examined it as if looking for holes or stains. Her tears seemed to stop, and her sad expression was replaced with a warm, thankful smile as she glanced up at Rumble with a set of comforted eyes. Without uttering a word, her message was clear, and she pulled the coat on just as Cheerilee reached them.

“Oh thank heavens. There you two are!” The mare was panting from running out, her own raincoat glowing like a traffic cone. “Scootaloo what’s wrong? What made you run out of the school like that?”

“Everything’s fine Miss Cheerilee, sorry about that.” Scootaloo said, wiping her nose on the back of her hoof.

Cheerilee tilted her head, clearly confused about the filly’s sudden change in attitude. “Are you sure?”

“I’m positive,” Scootaloo looked at Rumble and smiled.

The two friends re-entered back into the classroom, not even bothering to take off thier rain coats, and sat down near the front, where Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle were sitting. The two other fillies turned towards Scootaloo and Rumble as they sat down. Both fillies had looks of concern on their faces.

“What happened out there?” Sweetie Belle asked

“Yeah, is everythin’ alright? Ya really seemed upset.” Apple Bloom said with a friendly worry to her tone. Rumble had to admire the concern she and Sweetie Belle both expressed for their melancholy friend. They really did care about her well being.

“Everything’s cool, I just sort of overreacted, that’s all.” Scootaloo then turned towards Rumble and smiled. “Thanks Rumble for running after me. It means a lot.”

“Don’t mention it, I’m just happy you’re feeling better.” Rumble nodded and turned his attention to the front of the room as Cheerilee began teaching.

“Now class, sorry for the hold up. But we are back in business! So please open your geometry textbooks to page thirty and let’s get started.” She walked back over to the blackboard and started the lesson.

Rumble took one, last fleeting glance over at Scootaloo, who opened her textbook and flipped to page thirty and then froze. Suddenly, she looked up at Rumble who, flustered, turned away and faced the board, biting his lip and sweating a little. He even started to look at his open text in an attempt to throw her for a loop. He felt her hoof knocking into his side and he turned to see Scootaloo smiling knowingly at him. Still blushing, Rumble couldn’t hold back and returned the gesture before he turned back around looked up at Cheerilee, who was already in the middle of going through a simple multiplication equation.

Outside the clouds had cleared and the rain had stopped. The sun made its first appearance of the morning.

Thunderlane had just finished cleaning out the cereal bowls and spoons from their breakfast of cereal and milk. Once again, Rumble had been victorious in the race to finish the sugary milk in his bowl, mostly due to Thunderlane’s deliberate pacing so that he could win. He couldn’t find it in his heart to beat Rumble. He wanted to see him happy, not defeated.

He also thought about the Wonderbolts show. Soarin’ had given him and Caramel tickets prior to entering the bar where they had the confrontation, and Thunderlane was starting to worry that Soarin’ would no longer want him there. Not to mention the fact that Caramel was probably going to be there. It was going to be fun running into him, and possibly Applejack as well.

While his fear of seeing Caramel dealt more with the knowledge that he was a jerk to him, his fear of Applejack was based on her reputation as a no-nonsense mare that would buck you into next week if you messed with any of her friends. He could only let out a small shudder as he imagined what Applejack would do to somepony that had bullied her coltfriend. The words ‘buck’ and ‘manhood’ came to mind.

After drying the bowls and placing them back into their respective cupboards and drawers, Thunderlane turned off the sink, dried his hooves and made his way out into the living room to deal with Typhoon. The older stallion was sitting up on the couch, his mane a tangled mess and his eyes expressionless and dazed. It was clear he had just woken up, and by the somewhat distraught look on his face, somewhat remembered the events of the night before.

Slowly Thunderlane trotted over, careful not to make too much noise for fear that he’d make his notice. A deep exhale could be heard coming from the older stallion. As Thunderlane got closer, he could see that Typhoon was looking at an old family photograph which was taken when Rumble was a young foal and Thunderlane was still in school. The photo showed Typhoon and his ex-wife, Shady Cloud, smiling at the camera. What struck Thunderlane so much was how calm and at-peace his father appeared to be in the still frame. A brief moment in the past forever captured. His smile was genuine and his eyes still shone with the brightness that had long since been erased by heavy binge drinking and sorrow.

“Is Rumble at school, Thunder?” Typhoon asked without looking at Thunderlane. “Is he out of the house?”

“Yes,” was the son’s response. “He left a little while ago.”

Typhoon nodded slowly. “Good.”

“You should be getting ready for work, you know. It’s getting late.”

“What time is it?”

“Quarter past eight.”

Typhoon rolled his neck in a circle, cracking it slightly. He then pressed his hooves into his eyes and let out a groan. “Ugh, I feel like I’ve been hit by a train.”

“So do I.” Thunderlane rubbed his swollen nose where Typhoon had clobbered him the night before. It still twinged a bit and he had to bite his lower lip to hide a grunt of pain. He slowly trotted closer to his father so he was right beside him, the stench of sweat and alcohol growing. He looked at his father, knowing deep down that this was the pony responsible for giving him a beating the previous night, as well as many nights past. But for some reason he could not find it within him to muster up the same anger he felt when he was getting pummelled on the floor.

Typhoon looked up at Thunderlane. His glassy eyes like cloud-filled marbles were now full of pain when they had been filled with pure rage the night before. He no longer had the look of a pony ready to go on a rampage. He looked exhausted and full of a deeply rooted regret, as he had nearly every morning since his wife had left him, and her sons, behind.

Thunderlane pitied his father. He knew that he was suffering inside, and deep down he wanted to help him. Thunderlane wasn’t an idiot, he hadn’t forgotten the violent behavior the old stallion had exhibited the night before. But this morning, as in most mornings, when the alcohol wore off, he found that he could no longer hate him. It was as if Celestia’s sun had cured both of them of all ill will from the previous night. Perhaps it was a psychological mechanism developed from living with a drunken, abusive father, but in Thunderlane’s mind he had two radically different fathers.

The vile drunk that came home reeking of liquor at night and was ready to pick a fight with his son. Then there was the depressed, pitiful stallion he woke up as in the morning, dishevelled mane and all. His movements were tedious and gave him the appearance of a pony aged fifty years overnight. He was pitiful again, and Thunderlane knew he needed to let the night’s bygones be bygones, as he had every morning for the past year.

Typhoon turned his attention back to the photograph, gently placing his hoof onto the image of his wife, Mabel Blitz. A tear slowly ran down his cheek as he continued to stare at the framed image, forever a reminder of the life he had lost.

Unable to feel anything but pity now, Thunderlane cautiously reached out and placed a hoof onto Typhoon’s shoulder. He sighed and leaned forward so that his muzzle pressed against the photograph. Inhaling deeply, he slowly released the air before letting his eyes flutter open.

“Her scent...I-I used to pick it up just by looking at her face. I can’t anymore.” He took another inhale and held it a moment before exhaling in a manner so that Thunderlane wasn’t sure how much of it was natural and how much was a sigh brought on by depression. “It’s gone. It’s all gone. I can’t remember it.”

And then, as he had done so often before while Rumble was at school, and it was just him and Thunderlane, Typhoon’s broke down ever so slightly and he quietly sobbed, tears rolling down his face and landing on the photograph.

Thunderlane stood in place the entire time, like a statue dutifully guarding a valuable crown from theft. He felt nothing but a cold sympathy for his father at that moment, though his brain cursed and screamed at him for showing an inkling of remorse to such a cruel pony. It was a classic installment in the ongoing war between emotion and logic, and as it had so often before, no matter how valiantly the brain and logic fought, in the end emotion trumpeted victory.

For as much of a realist as Thunderlane claimed to be, deep down he was just like any other son whose father had gone through a change for the worst. He was filled with a great hope that one day, most likely a sunny day with an air filled by the sweet scent of blossoming flowers– perhaps in spring or early summer– his father would pick himself up, dust himself off, and return to being the wonderful, kind, supportive stallion Thunderlane had grown up with. The stallion he had been when happily married to his wife, before the alcoholism and rage and nights filled with hatred and pain. So Thunderlane stood beside Typhoon as the old stallion cried until his eyes had been dried of tears and it was past time he should have been at work.