The First Time

by fic Write Off

Rating: mature
Tags: Random, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic
Length: 28022

Writefriends from all over /fic/ gathered in a war of words on the weekend of Feb 01. These are the resulting stories.

Writefriends from all over /fic/ gathered in a war of words on the weekend of Feb 01. These are the resulting stories. (Also, we flicked the mature flag on this time, just for kicks.)

See http://writeoff.rogerdodger.me/event/13 for more info.

Published 2013-02-04 07:50:02 UTC
Last updated 2013-02-04 07:50:02 UTC

There Will Never Be a Last Laugh

With a light step, Princess Celestia strode into Sugarcube Corner and made her way past the showroom and kitchen and on to the living area, careful to keep her gaze away from all of the beautifully frosted confections. She could hear a door close softly upstairs, and seconds later, Pumpkin and Pound appeared at the top of the staircase, engaged in hushed conversation. They had gotten halfway down before they noticed her, went rigid, and attempted to bow on the uneven footing.

“Rise, my little ponies,” Celestia said and beckoned them down.

“Princess,” Pound and Pumpkin both murmured through forced smiles as they kept their eyes rooted to the floor and came the rest of the way downstairs.

“How is she?” asked Luna as she joined her sister in the hallway and held up her hoof to forestall yet another bow.

Pound’s ears drooped. “Not well.” When he finally looked up, he cocked his head at Celestia’s smile.

“Then I think we have come just in time. Is she awake?”

Pumpkin nodded, stood aside, and extended a hoof toward the stairs, and the princesses trotted up to Pinkie’s door. Knocking softly but getting no answer, Celestia swung the door open.

Bundled under several blankets, Pinkie lay with a sweet smile on her face, her chest rising and falling in steady rhythm. Celestia continued into the room, around the bed, and sat down beside it, Luna taking the other side. After gazing down at her peaceful expression for a moment, Celestia brushed a hoof across Pinkie’s cheek. “How are you feeling?”

Pinkie didn’t open her eyes, but she did laugh. And not anything polite or forced—her shoulders bobbed as she gave a warm smile with a thousand private jokes tucked behind it. But just as quickly, it faded, and she winced, holding a hoof to her side. “In the pink, as usual! Hehe!” Pinkie finally opened her eyes at the sound of chuckling next to her, then gaped when she saw Princess Luna as well.

“Have you seen everypony you wished to see, Pinkie?” Celestia asked as she stroked Pinkie’s gray-streaked mane.

Pinkie drew her eyebrows together and shook her head. “Not yet. But... I can’t, really.”

A tinkling wind chime of laughter escaped Celestia lips. “All in good time, Pinkie. I think you’ll rather like what we have planned for you.”

“Ooh, a surprise?” Pinkie’s ears pricked forward. “I love surprises!”

“Well, only good surprises, I’d hope,” Luna replied with a raised eyebrow.

“I always think they will be. You have to have faith. The best is yet to come, right?” Her eyes closing again, Pinkie let an enormous grin wash across her face.

Luna chuckled, picking at a few out-of-place strands of Pinkie’s mane and smoothing them back down. “If you’re ready, then...”

Pinkie nodded as Celestia lay down beside the bed, and a soft glow from Luna’s horn grew to envelop all three of them. Celestia’s eyelids instantly sagged, and she let her head sink to the mattress. As the blackness overtook her vision, she could see Luna holding a hoof over Pinkie’s eyes and whispering something in her ear. The last thing she sensed was Pumpkin’s voice from downstairs: “Could I get either of you...?”

When Celestia opened her eyes again, she was standing by herself in a grassy field with a stream running through it. A gentle breeze swept across the meadow and rippled the scattered wildflowers, the butterflies resettling on a different bloom with each gust. Swirling in eddies as it babbled among the rocks, the water laughed on its way to whatever faraway destination awaited it. It actually laughed.

Celestia rolled her eyes upward and chortled along with it, spreading her wings to soak up the warm late-spring sun and shaking them out. She knelt in the grass and stretched her head back to each wing in turn, smoothing her feathers back, running her lips over them to dislodge any debris, and plucking any that were badly askew. Giving her wings one last rustle, Celestia then folded them back against her sides and breathed in the glade’s earthy scent. That was enough indulgence. The brook was laughing for a reason, after all.

Celestia took off at a gallop, following the stream’s course through the field, into the forest, and on until it grew to a roaring laughter as it spilled off a cliff face to the pool far below. She launched from the precipice and snapped her wings out, gliding in circles down to the bottom of the waterfall, where Pinkie, every wrinkle and trace of gray erased, frolicked in the water with Gummi.

Splashing to a landing next to the alligator, who was trying to snap at the leaping rainbow trout, Celestia pounced on a pink salmon and clutched it between her hooves. “This one is more your color, I think,” Celestia said as she tossed the fish to Pinkie. She juggled it in her forelegs as it wriggled about, and she finally fell backwards, cackling, into the water.

“Sister!” Luna shouted. “I was afraid that we would have to come looking for you.”

“I found my own way. I just had to follow the sound, really.” Celestia cast a glance back toward Pinkie, who was bouncing through the water like a giant frog.

With her last leap, Pinkie landed right on Gummi’s back and wrapped him in a hug. “It’s soooooo good to see you again!” He slipped out of her grasp, scrambled onto her back, and clamped his jaws onto her mane, squeezing out all the water and making it run down her face.

“Here, chew on this,” Pinkie said, pulling a balloon from her cutie mark and puffing it up as big as her head. Gummi immediately latched onto it and went floating around as Pinkie chased, headbutting it to keep him airborne. Trotting along with her, Celestia swatted it back with a wing whenever Gummi got out of Pinkie’s reach.

Luna lay down by the stream bank and watched, her eyes sparkling. Finally, one of Gummi’s bounces carried him farther than Celestia or Pinkie could follow in time, and he rolled over beside Luna.

Pinkie ran up to her, giggling in spurts while she caught her breath. Bouncing in place, she beamed at Luna. “Thank you! This means a lot. Do you do this for everypony?”

“Not all,” Luna answered, shaking her head. “That would be impossible. But for as many as we can, yes.” Once Celestia had joined them, Luna wrapped a wing around each, covering their eyes.

“So soon?” Celestia asked, her mouth bent into a frown.

“We already had quite a bit of fun before you arrived,” Luna answered, a playful glint in her eye. “It’s not our fault you were late to the party.”

“Time to go back?” Pinkie asked through her sigh.

“We are not finished. As you said, dear Pinkie, the best is yet to come.” Luna bent her head down and whispered into Pinkie’s ear once more.

Celestia stood on the straw-covered floor of a barn. Bunting hung on all the walls, streamers swooped down from the rafters, clusters of balloons bobbed from any convenient anchoring point, and a giant four-tier cake sat on a table in the center of the room. Overhead, the hayloft doors had been flung wide open, letting bright sunlight flood the normally dark interior. Celestia couldn’t help but smile. Her sister had such a knack for scenery, but that was no surprise—certainly a barn was nothing compared with millions of pinpricks of light.

“Turn around,” Luna said as she tapped a gaping Pinkie on the shoulder.

Pinkie turned toward the open doorway to see a party cannon, fully loaded, primed, and ready to go. “Hehe!” she shouted as she pounced on it, sending a blast of confetti all over the room. When she faced Luna again, her parents stood there, marveling at the decorations. She immediately leaped at them and tackled them in a hug. “I’m so glad you could come! I didn’t get your RSVP, but it doesn’t matter. This’ll be the bestest, most funnest party you’ve ever seen!”

A loud scratching noise sounded over the loudspeaker as Celestia started up the phonograph and set the needle on the record. Soon, a lively polka tune was blaring throughout the barn.

“C’mon!” Sue said, breaking into a wide grin. Clyde turned toward her and gestured to the open area behind the cake. She smiled, nodded, and led him to the dance floor.

They stepped side-by-side with the beat, leaning into each other, then he twirled and spun her, sending her mane flowing out behind her. When the tempo picked up, their hooves flashed in complex sequence, stepping out a rapid pattern on the dusty floorboards. At the end, they both took a minute to catch their breath, then Clyde gave Sue a tight-lipped smile and kissed her on the cheek.

Pinkie clapped her hooves together and bounded out to join them for the next song. Wedging herself between them, she hooked a foreleg around each one’s shoulder and started a line dance. They shuffled back and forth, occasionally kicking out or separating to do a turn.

Pinkie’s grin grew the entire time, and it was enough for Celestia just to watch. But when that song too ended, she strode in from the entrance. “Pinkie, do not forget about the cake!”

“Oh oh oh! How could I?” Pinkie knocked herself on the head with a hoof. “Imagine that! Me! Forgetting cake,” she said through her giggling. She bounced over to the table, grabbed the knife in her teeth, and slashed madly.

Celestia winced, primarily to keep any of the flying frosting from hitting her in the face, but the prospect of Pinkie wielding cutlery was none too settling, either.

Five huge slabs of cake lay on individual plates, and Pinkie doled them out, finally eating her own piece in a single bite. She plopped down next to her parents as they ate, her mother pausing to ask, “So, how have you been, Pinkie?”

“Good.” She held a hoof up to her chin. “Let’s see—what wouldn’t you already know? Oh! Oh! I got married!”

Sue’s fork clattered down to her plate and her eyes shot wide open. “Really?”

“Yeah! To Orange Sherbet,” she answered, nodding vigorously. “He’s so sweet. Hehe! You’ve got two grandchildren! Puff Pastry runs a shop in Fillydelphia, and Lemon Meringue works at the bakery with me. He’s got a little one on the way, too. My first grandchild!” She’d saved her biggest smile yet for that revelation and couldn’t sit still.

“Oh! Do you have pictures?”

“Yeah! Right here—” Pinkie looked down at her sides and frowned. “Oh. I’m not wearing my saddlebags today. But it’s okay!” Her smile resumed as she giggled and waved a hoof. “I’ll show you next time I see you!”

As Clyde leaned around her, Sue put a hoof on her hip and attempted a glower at the lack of photographic evidence, but she couldn’t wipe her grin away. “Well, at least tell me about them!”

“Hm. I met Sherbet at a trade convention in Fillydelphia. I had the booth next to his, and he kept staring at me. On the last day, we were packing up, and he kept making lame come-ons, like how great ice cream and pie go together. Can you imagine?”

Sue snorted and shook her head. “Just the curse of being a gorgeous mare in the Pie family, dear.”

“Hehe! He was sooooo cute, and I just had to give him credit for trying. So I agreed on a date.” She rolled her eyes upward and sighed. “He’s a little on the shy side, but he’s really sweet. Pastry Puff is just like him. When she grew up, she moved near Sherbet’s side of the family to help with their business, and she runs the main shop there now. And Lemon Meringue is all Pie. Hehe! He’s a stubborn thing, but he’s an assistant manager at Sugarcube Corner. He’s got good business sense, but—” she leaned in toward her mother’s ear “—he’s a bit on the serious side.”

A hoof held up to stifle her laugh, Sue glanced back toward Clyde, but he showed no reaction, as usual.

“Of course, he married one of the Apples,” Pinkie added with a half-lidded stare. The flat line of her mouth soon broke into a grin, though. “He and Honeycrisp have a little one due in a couple of weeks.”

Tears danced in Sue’s eyes, and Pinkie leaned in for a hug. She glanced up at her father, too, but his expressionless face afforded only a brief nod. “Don’t mind him,” Sue replied, following Pinkie’s gaze. “He’s proud of you, and you know it.”

Leaning across her mother, Pinkie flung her hooves around Clyde’s neck. His eyes shot wide open, but he soon broke into a slight smile. “I love you too, Dad. I’m glad I got another chance to see you both. But don’t you fret! I’ll stop by again and talk to you later.”

Princess Luna set aside her half-eaten cake and walked up to Pinkie’s side. “Are you sure? Take all the time you need.” Pinkie closed her eyes and nodded. “Sister?”

“One moment,” Celestia replied through another mouthful, her eyes laughing for her otherwise-engaged mouth.

“That cake is not real, you know,” Luna said, an amused smile on her lips.

Rolling her eyes, Celestia levitated her plate over to the table and stood to join her sister. Luna once more hid their eyes with her wingtips and softly spoke into Pinkie’s ear.

Celestia found herself standing in Ponyville’s spa next to her sister. Pinkie was reclining in the hot tub with Rainbow Dash and Rarity, each engrossed in a book. In seconds, Aloe and Lotus had run up to the tub, dumped in a bowl full of dried herbs, and laid out robes and warm towels. When they noticed the princesses, they blushed and bowed.

“So sorry—we didn’t see you there, Princesses,” Aloe said through her grimace.

“Think nothing of it,” replied Celestia. “We are here for Pinkie Pie. But... a nice rub-down does sound good...”

The twins nodded and wrapped Celestia and Luna in robes before leading them to a pair of massage tables. Celestia climbed on and let her wings droop over the table’s edge, then pricked her ears toward Pinkie’s conversation.

“Whatcha reading there, Rarity?” Pinkie asked, leaning toward her.

“Oh, a divine murder mystery!” she answered, a hoof drawn to her chest. “A dashing young starlet about town discovers her beau poisoned, and she finds herself wrongfully accused.” As her smile grew, Rarity tossed her mane. “She must descend into the city’s seedy underbelly and cast her lot with some rather”—she flicked a hoof toward Pinkie—“unsavory characters. I’m getting close to where the perpetrator will be revealed, and our heroine can resume her rightful place in the limelight.”

Pinkie raised an eyebrow and rubbed a hoof at her chin. “Sounds, um... good?”

Her eyes sparkling, Rarity took a deep breath and gazed up at the skylight. “I don’t know what it is about this book that’s so... enticing, but it certainly speaks to me.” She grabbed an errant strand of mane with her magic and weaved it back into her curls. “There! How about you?”

“I’m reading a super-cool second-person adventure!” Pinkie chattered. “I’m up to the point where I break two eggs and stir them into the flour and baking powder. I wonder what I’ll do next?”

Rarity arched an eyebrow and stared back for a minute. “You do know that’s a cookbook, right?”

“Of course, silly filly!” Pinkie replied through her fit of giggles. “But I like it to be exciting. You have to make the little things fun, too. What do you think this will be when it’s done?” she asked, pointing at the page and gasping. “Oh! Maybe the next chapter will be about cinnamon!”

Her disbelieving stare finally cracking, Rarity shook with laughter. “I suppose that makes... some manner of sense, dear.”

Pinkie peered across the tub and through the steam. “Dashie?”

“Hm?” Rainbow turned her head toward Pinkie but kept her eyes on her book. Finally, she flipped the page and looked up at Pinkie.

“What’s your book? Another Daring Do adventure?”

“Heh. No.” Rainbow stuck her tongue out at Pinkie. “It’s a reference book about bath herbs. I was curious what they all do, as long as I agreed to be here. This blend is supposed to help relax you. I wonder if it’s working.”

Pinkie’s eyebrows scrunched together into one as as her eyes searched her friend over. “For real?”

“Duh.” Rainbow rolled her eyes and held her book up so Pinkie could see the cover. “Daring Do and the Tasmaneian Devil. Just came out yesterday. It’s awesome!” she shouted as she gave her wings a flap, sending a splash of water at Pinkie.

“Water fight!” Pinkie screamed, leaping across the tub and doing a belly flop that soaked both Rainbow and Rarity.

Her lower lip trembling as she patted a hoof at her waterlogged mane, Rarity let a sly smile creep across her face. “Oh, you are going to rue the day—” She charged her horn and sent a wave crashing over Rainbow and Pinkie, spilling over the tub’s edge, and catching Aloe, Lotus, and the princesses in the spray.

Rarity stood up on her hind legs, tried to figure out how to bow while in a tub, and raised a hoof to her gaping mouth. “I-I’m sorry, Princesses! I didn’t think—”

Celestia’s mouth wrinkled into the kind of grin usually reserved for foals that have misbehaved, but in the cutest possible fashion. She gave a dismissive wave. “No need for formalities, Rarity. We are not here in any official capacity. This is Pinkie Pie’s moment.”

Luna shook some of the wetness from her mane and opened her mouth to speak, but as Aloe dabbed some fragrant lotion onto her forelegs and began rubbing it in, the princess let her shoulders slump into the table’s softness, her eyes drooping shut.

A few moments later, Rarity’s eyes finally shrunk back to their normal size as she settled into the water again. “So, what do you want to talk about, Pinkie? There’s no reason we have to sit around reading.”

“Hm?” commented Rainbow without looking up.

Rarity directed a knowing grin at Rainbow and shook her head. “Princess Celestia is right, Pinkie. This is your moment.”

“Weeeeelllll... okay!” Pinkie splashed her way between them and locked them both in a hug.

Almost losing her grip on her book, Rainbow set it down on the ledge behind her. “Heh. Yeah... nice to see you too, Pinkie.”

“So, what would you like to talk about?” Rarity asked, smiling and cocking her head.

“I... I don’t know really. I hadn’t thought about it. I just want to be with you!” A small giggle bubbled up in her throat, and soon it had grown to full-blown laughing, infectious enough that Rainbow and Rarity couldn’t help joining in.

Wiping a tear from her eye, Rainbow was the first to regain her composure. “So, tell me about your day, Pinkie. What’d you do?”

“Well, I got to play with Gummi, then I had a party with my parents. It was odd.” The smile faded from her face as she stared out the window. “It was so I could say good-bye to them... but also hello. I mean—this is the last stop, right? I’m just going off with them, so we have all the time in the world to catch up,” Pinkie asked as she glanced over at Princess Celestia. “And I’ll see my parents and Gummi and everypony else anyway.”

Exchanging a smile with her sister, Celestia shook her head.

Pinkie frowned and let her ears droop. With a quick look toward her, Rarity said, “But Princess...”

“Remember, Pinkie,” Celestia said, breaking into a large grin, “the best is yet to come. That is always true. Whenever you are ready...” Pinkie hung her mouth open and looked back and forth between Rainbow and Rarity. “Oh, do not worry, Pinkie. We will return you to your friends. All in good time. But first, we have something special planned.”

“Even more special?” Pinkie asked as her eyes widened. “Super-extra-special?” She squealed and bounced out of the water, rushing to Celestia’s side.

“Yes, but do not let us rush you. Take your time. I think Luna is rather enjoying herself, so we are in no hurry.” Luna levitated the cucumber off one eye and raised her eyebrow, making Celestia chuckle.

“It’s okay!” Pinkie shouted as she danced around Celestia. “Where are we going? Huh? Huh?”

Luna stood, shrugged off her robe, and walked up to Pinkie’s side. “Somewhere from my memory,” she said, tapping a hoof on Pinkie’s nose before she reached her wingtips around Celestia’s and Pinkie’s faces again.

Celestia knelt on the edge of a rich, royal-purple carpet. Above her, Luna reclined on the throne. The grey stone walls receded into the shadows, and only a single torch near Celestia cut into the darkness; without any backlighting, the palatial stained glass windows shimmered faintly, black and glossy like oil in the flickering light. No guards stood at any of the posts. In fact, there were none of the usual noises echoing through the corridors and passages.

Pinkie stood just a few steps from Celestia. She drew a deep breath, rose to her hooves, and walked to Pinkie’s side, speaking quietly. “You see, Pinkie, the Elements of Harmony were originally the stones themselves. They contained all of the power and only required somepony with the knowledge and magical ability to activate them.” Briefly, Celestia glanced toward the throne behind her. “We were able to wield them together against Discord. But later, things changed. When we... When I...”

Swallowing against the lump in her throat, Celestia let her gaze drop to the floor, then wander off into the shadows. She blinked hard a few times and opened her mouth to speak again, but the words caught in her throat. Soft hoofsteps descended from the throne, and Luna appeared beside her.

“When I was foolish enough to force my sister into using the Elements against me,” she finished as she wrapped a wing over Celestia’s back.

Celestia’s eyes opened wide as she managed a timid smile and faced her sister. She returned the gesture with her own wing. “It was not your fault...”

Letting out a sigh, Luna closed her eyes and nuzzled Celestia before angling her head toward Pinkie, who sat stock-still. “Oh! I... apologize, Pinkie. This is supposed to be your day, and I do believe I promised you more than to be burdened with my own troubles.”

“Aw, that’s okay!” Pinkie chimed, tilting her head and grinning. “All that baddy-waddy-saddy stuff is looong gone!” she added as she joined in their hug.

Nodding, Celestia took another breath and continued. “After... Now, the Elements are ponies. The stones still exist, but they are merely focusing devices for the power that the Elements themselves possess. That you possess.”

Pinkie’s eyes sparkled as she beamed at the princesses. “Then... it’s not just giving my stone to somepony else. That means...”

“Yes, Pinkie. That power will go on. You will be the first pony to pass it down.” Celestia placed her hooves on Pinkie’s shoulders and looked her in the eye. “It is an exciting time!”

Pinkie held a hoof to her mouth and gasped, but her smile soon turned to a frown. “What about Rainbow Dash... and Rarity... Are their Elements...?”

Shaking her head, Celestia patted Pinkie on the head. “No, Pinkie. Rarity had passed before Luna and I devised this little ritual. And of course, we were not present when Rainbow Dash was taken from us unexpectedly.”

“Ohhhh! Yeah, I remember...” Pinkie pursed her lips and looked down at the carpet.

“So neither was afforded this opportunity,” Celestia continued as she raised Pinkie’s chin back up with a hoof, “but their Elements will still live on. The transition was just a little more... impersonal.”

“Impersonal?” Pinkie’s eyes danced and her ears pricked forward. “I-I get to do it m-myself?”

“Yes, Pinkie.” Celestia’s own smile grew along with Pinkie’s, and Luna’s wings squeezed them both a little tighter.

“This is so super-duper spectacular!” Pinkie shouted as she broke free and bounced in a circle around the princesses. “When can I start? When can I start?”

Finally relaxing her rigid posture, Celestia couldn’t hold back her laughter. “Right away, if you like.”

Pinkie nodded so hard that she almost fell over. “Where are we going? Where are we going?”

“Somewhere new. In many senses of the word,” Luna replied as she attempted to nuzzle a moving target.

After looking up at Luna expectantly for a moment, Pinkie squinted. “You’re not going to describe it to me this time? No hints?”

“No. You have never been anywhere quite like this. At least not that you would remember.” Luna smiled as her wings obscured their vision one last time. “And this place is real.”

Celestia blinked into the endless blackness around her. A soft light glowed nearby, but did little to penetrate the gloom; if not for its glint off Luna’s crown, she might not have been able to see her sister beside her at all. In the middle of the faint luminescence sat Pinkie, the wrinkle of her forehead increasing as she waited for something to happen. For just a moment, muffled voices could be heard, as if through cotton-stuffed ears.

“...Feel that kick?”

“...Not long...”

Quiet footsteps echoed from the shadows and grew steadily louder. Pinkie moved to shy away from the sound, but Celestia’s smile kept her in place. Finally, a perfect double of Pinkie Pie emerged into the light and sat directly in front of her, its eyes searching her face.

“She... looks just like me!” Pinkie said, her brow knit. She reached a hoof toward the new arrival but drew back as it continued staring at her.

“She has never seen a pony before,” Celestia explained, her smile growing by the minute. “You are the first, so it is not surprising that she would assume she should look like you. In time, she will learn. In time, she will learn a lot of things.”

Pinkie took a hesitant step forward, then wrapped her double in a hug. The copy squealed and cooed.

“She does not know laughter yet, either. She will need somepony to teach her.” Both princesses joined the two Pinkies, and Celestia bowed her head down to whisper in the new arrival’s ear.

“You are the new day, little one.”

“Day?” Luna asked, her mouth formed into a mock pout.

Celestia smirked. “Does the day not begin at midnight?” Turning back to Pinkie, she continued, “Pinkie, do you know how much we love you? You, and her, and every last one of you? You are all a part of us.”

Her eyes brimming with tears, Pinkie answered, “I’m starting to.” She hunched up her shoulders and closed her eyes. “It feels so... heavy. And light. At the same time. Like when I was just a silly filly and would lie on the rug in my room, in the sunbeam, during winter. So warm and still and just blending into the softness.”

Celestia stifled a laugh as she nodded. “Yes, Pinkie. I think you have it.”

Taking her double in her hooves, Pinkie picked her up and squeezed her a little tighter. “Now, you listen to Pinkie Pie. Where do I even start? There’s your basic giggle. Hehe! Then a snicker, a chuckle, a great big belly laugh... Oh yeah! And a guffaw! Those are fun! And chortling. How could I forget that? Oh, and then there are the advanced ones! Hybrids, like a snuffaw... double takes... Ooh! Ooh! Spit takes! And the whole milk-out-the-nose thing! Hehe!”

The double cocked her head and wrinkled her brow, a thin stream of drool running down her chin.

“We’ll get there, little laugher. But you’re right. We should start at the beginning.”

After exchanging warm glances, the princesses faced into the darkness. “Perhaps it is time to go,” Luna said.

“Not yet!” Pinkie shouted. “I didn’t get a chance to thank you yet.”

“Not at all, Pinkie,” Celestia replied, bowing her head. “In fact, thank you. This has worked out wonderfully.”

“I know, but you don’t know what this means to me.” Pinkie’s throat worked to keep up with her mind, and she finally let it all spill out. “I’ve always heard that ‘she who laughs last laughs best.’ But the best is yet to come. Don’t you see? There will never be a last laugh, and I get to make it happen! You gave me that. How can I ever repay you?”

Celestia glanced back over her shoulder, her own musical laughter echoing in the quiet. “Pinkie, you have brought more joy into the world than any pony I have ever known. You owe us nothing.”

As she wiped a few tears from her cheeks, Pinkie couldn’t help bouncing a few times, but she soon became still again. “After this—that’s it, isn’t it?” Celestia nodded. “What’s it like?”

Celestia faced Pinkie fully once more and grinned broadly. “Pinkie, it’s wonderful. The best is yet to come.”

Nodding sharply, Pinkie smiled, hesitated a moment, then asked one last question. “This isn’t good-bye... is it?”

“No, Pinkie. With my sister’s help, I visit.”

Turning her full attention back on her double, Pinkie set her down. “Okay now. We’ll work on the ‘why’ later, so first is the ‘how.’ Lesson number one. Repeat after me: ha!”

The copy merely stared back, open-mouthed, and drooled some more.

“Like this!” Pinkie reached a foreleg around her gave a little squeeze.

“Uh!” the double grunted as a little air was forced out of her lungs. Her eyes popped wide open. “Uh!” she repeated on her own, followed with a squeal.

Pinkie stuck her tongue out the side of her mouth and crossed her eyes. “Hehe! You’re getting it!”

Touching a wingtip to her sister, Celestia exchanged a knowing glance. They both walked silently into the darkness.

“...A cup of tea?” Pumpkin finished calling from downstairs.

Celestia jerked her head up and off the mattress, her eyes snapping open. Across the bed, Luna smiled and nodded back at her. Celestia slowly got to her hooves, then leaned over Pinkie and kissed her on the forehead. “We love you, Pinkie. But as I promised, this is not good-bye.”

Luna stood as well, and they both left the room and descended the staircase.

“But... you just arrived!” Pumpkin said as she glanced back down the hall toward an old clock.

“Yes, it must seem that way.” Celestia walked up to her and hugged her. “Is Lemon Meringue home?”

“No, he and Honeycrisp are at her checkup. It’s almost time for little Candy Apple to be due.” Her frown growing, Pumpkin fixed her gaze on the kitchen doorway, where Pound had poked his head out.

“Ah,” Celestia replied. “You two have an important duty. Make sure Candy Apple knows what a special mare her grandmother Pinkie was.”

“Is-is she...?”

Celestia shook her head. “Not yet. Keep her comfortable. But she will not wake again.”

A sob escaped Pumpkin’s lips, and the wooden spoon Pound had in his mouth clattered to the floor.

“Do not despair,” Celestia said, wrapping her wings around Pumpkin. “She is so very happy now. If only you could share her joy...” Her eyes sparkled as she focused on a horizon only she could see.

A warm glow enveloping her horn, Luna approached and touched it to Pumpkin’s forehead. Through her tears, Pumpkin giggled, in random spurts at first, but growing into a continuous peal that left her breathless. Holding a hoof to her chest to still her heart, she sank to her haunches, breaking contact with Luna.

When she had finally caught her breath, Pumpkin wiped the tears from her cheeks and faced Pound. “It’s alright. It’s alright.” She inhaled deeply once more and grinned. “It’s alright.”

Pausing in the hospital’s hallway, Celestia and Luna peered through the crack in the slightly ajar door, but all they could see was an empty chair against the wall and the wispy ends of a green tail trailing off the end of the bed. From inside, they heard soft cooing and the harsh rasp of a rattle.

“Do you like that, Candy? Huh?” asked a masculine voice. The coos turned to squeals in reply.

Then a mare’s voice: “She’s reaching for that ball, Lemon. Could you get it for her?”

“Hehehehe!”

“Honeycrisp! Did you hear that?”

“Oh, it’s probably just gas.”

“No, I gave her the ball, and I swear she giggled!”

Luna’s mouth gaped open, and Celestia smiled broadly. “You were right,” Celestia whispered. “I believe this will turn out beautifully.” Luna closed her eyes and nuzzled her sister.

A hollow, ringing sound echoed through the room as a ball bounced across the floor, followed almost immediately by hoofsteps. First one way and then the other, a pale-yellow stallion with a white mane crossed the narrow strip of the princesses’ view.

“Honeycrisp, watch this. I’m going to hold it up to her again.”

“Hehehehehehe!”

“See? She’s laughing! Only two days old, and she’s already laughing!”

“Perhaps we should come back later,” Luna said, angling her head down the corridor. Celestia watched for a few more seconds, then nodded.

“You might be right. She’s got your mother’s eyes, too. Are you gonna be a silly filly like your Granny Pinkie was? Huh? Yes you are! Yes you are!”

The sisters made their way down the hall, each with a wing over the other’s back.

Another eventful day. Her morning court session having just concluded, Celestia sat on her throne and awaited the chime that would indicated that lunch was being served. In the silence, she let her eyes wander toward one of the large stained glass windows.

The original six Element Bearers stood arrayed around a central magic burst, and she stared hard at them, her eyes going out of focus. Soon, the leaded lines between them blurred, sharp corners rounded, colors slowly shifted. Rainbow Dash and Rarity began to move, just perceptibly at first, then more rapidly, more fluidly. Approaching each other, they nuzzled, then turned to the magic radiance above them, which shattered into millions of shards. Each piece took on its own shape, a unique hue, an individual color, a distinctive voice as they swirled around the pair, casting their own light over Rainbow’s and Rarity’s smiling faces.

So many ponies. So much affection. If Celestia closed her eyes, she could feel it. She pricked her ears forward and tuned out all of the palace’s little indigenous noises. She could hear every one of those tiny voices if she listened hard enough. Finally, one sound drew her attention: a faint sigh at a great distance, as if echoing through a ravine.

Celestia opened her eyes again and watched Pinkie’s image slowly stretch and yawn. “Sister,” Celestia thought as loudly as she could. Seconds later, Luna teleported to Celestia’s side, followed her gaze up to the window, and gasped. One of the guards also looked up, shifting bored eyes toward what must appear to him to be the same unchanging scene this view had always afforded him.

Glass Pinkie stood up, glanced around, and galloped over to Rainbow Dash, Rarity, and the multitude of other ponies. Closing her eyes again, Celestia concentrated on finding that particular voice once more and smiled once she’d located it.

“It’s Candy Apple, Rainbow Dash! It’s my own granddaughter! And I got to teach her, Rarity. Oh, I have to tell you all about it!”

First Instrument

Silence has a way of resonating for a lot longer than most sounds do. Sure, yelling at the walls of the right canyon or concert hall can be fun, but that kind of echo is really just stretching out the same sound for a few seconds. Unlike a yell, or a chord, or a thunderclap, a good enough silence can stick with you for years, and it can even come back on you when you thought it had ended.

Silence can whisper. Silence can roar. Silence can sing. Silence can accuse.

Follow Spot slammed my front door for what I was sure would be the last time, and the silence left in the wake of that single heavy bang was the kind that did all four of those things at once. Now that the house was empty, it was all I could hear.

I stood there for a long few seconds, staring at the inside of my front door. It was a sturdy old thing pounded together from planks and nails, just like the rest of the house. I thought about throwing that door open and running after him, yelling his name like a damn idiot, begging him to come back to me. I also thought of throwing that door open and yelling something else entirely--something along the lines ofFuck you, I never needed you, I hope the next girl gelds you in your sleep. I almost did the second one, except that I had already been standing there thinking about it for long enough that I decided that it was too late anyway.

So I just turned and headed back to my bedroom. Except I didn’t make it there--I knew I would still be able to smell Follow Spot on the sheets. So I headed for the fridge instead, but I didn’t make it there either--I altered my course when I realized just what it was that I needed, far more than a drink or a pillow to cry into.

Behind the kitchen table was a closet, and on the floor inside the closet was a bundle of black cloth, and beneath the heavy cloth was a dull wooden case, exactly four spans long and one span across. The treble clef on the cover was just as precisely, perfectly carved as I remembered. I smiled for the first time in I don’t know how long, and held that smile even as I gripped the handle with my teeth. The weight, the shallow scratches in the surface, the grooves that my teeth had etched into the grip after countless times hefting it like this... it had been waiting for me, and for a long time at that. Who was I to deny it what it deserved?

The sun was nearing the horizon and the trees were starting to whistle in the cool breeze rolling in from the lake. The smile on my face just got wider as I felt the wind pull at my bandanna and hat. My roof would give a perfect view of what was sure to be a beautiful, cloudless sunset.

The latch on the case clicked open with only a light touch--it had been designed and carved by a master, after all. I took a long, cleansing breath as I lifted the lid away. The black satin lining the case hissed softly as it was exposed to the air for the first time in years, and golden sunlight flashed harshly against the polished surface of my fiddle.

Not a violin: a fiddle. My bow would never rise and fall in unison with a rank of identical bows; the instrument I played would never stand at attention with its “section” in an orchestra.

I lifted it from its resting place without reverence or ceremony; the fiddle and I knew each other too well for that, even if it had been years since we’d last played together. Its weight melted into my body as I braced it against my shoulder, and the bow was an extension of my hoof, as if it had always been there.

A few passing ponies looked curiously up at my distinctive shilouette as I reared and prepared to play. Balanced on my hind legs, with fiddle rasied and hat angled to block out the sun, I closed my eyes and took just one more deep breath before flowing into the first stroke.

Feeling its small weight against my hoof and shoulder, smelling the lacquered wood for the first time, was a moment of electric intimacy that I would never forget. I angled my head slightly and felt the smooth, cool wood against my cheek while the overlarge pad dug into my jaw and collar. The bow was also too large, but in my hoof it was a magic wand, the medium through which I could interact with this new world that I was discovering.

“Very nice,” said my instructor’s distant voice. “Most fillies take a lot longer to learn how to hold a fiddle properly. Now, turn to the first page of the music book...”

I wasn’t listening; I was too busy exploring the thing’s neck with the tip of my hoof, tracing delicately down its side, head to base and then back again. At the time, I didn’t know what to call the curves and indents of the instrument’s body--I only knew that they were beautiful. The neat, flowing edges, the way the taut strings hovered low over the face, suspended by their ends, tightly controlled but free to hum.

The sound that came from the fiddle as I drew the bow across its strings was an unabashed wail of pure, dissonant glory. It sounded like the blare of a horn crossed with the yowl of an old tom defending its territory. The bow shivered in my hand as it tasted the strings with tentative firmness, and the fiddle vibrated into my shoulder in return. I stretched the note out as long as I could, filling the room with raspy joy that felt like it was coming directly from my heart. When I reached the end of the bow, I started pushing back towards the other end, bringing out another keening cry.

Mrs. Fuji ended the lesson early and sent me home to practice with the fiddle. She didn’t even tell me that when I turned my back on her, I also flashed her my freshly earned cutie marks--a blue treble clef on each haunch.

Mahogany was his name. He was a rakish young thing, with evergreen eyes that belonged to a colt, not a stallion--no matter how much he wanted to be a stallion at that moment. His autumn coat and wildfire mane were dull brown and orange in the low lamplight, but his eyes actually seemed more reflective in the near-darkness.

He was young. Well, we both were, but he was younger. I’d had a pair of cutie marks for close to three years, whereas Mohagany had only learned his destiny as a woodcarver a few months ago. His cutie mark depicted a chisel peeling a curl of wood from a board.

“I love you, Fiddle,” he told me in a scratchy whisper. I lost sight of his eyes, but I felt his fluttering breath against my neck as he leaned forward to nuzzle me--an awkward motion when the two of us were crammed into a storage shed, so small that we were braced against opposite walls and still nearly bumping chests with each other.

“I love you too,” I murmured back.

For a little while, the only sounds in the room were the expectant heartbeats of a mare and a stallion, and the hesitant breaths of a filly and a colt.

I made the first move. I scrunched my body backwards so that I could face him again, then kissed him. Sweetly at first--then pressing forward until it was a kiss unlike any I had ever given him before. I wanted to breathe my soul into him, to pour my being into him with lips, tongue, and breath until there was nothing left in me and he had all of both of us. He pressed back, stopping my tongue with his, my fervor with his. He raised one forehoof, rested it against my head, then traced the tip delicately down the side of my neck.

I broke away, leaving Mahogany mouthing at empty space. I somehow managed to twist a full hundred eighty degrees in the tiny space, without knocking over one of the racks of tools, and backed towards him until my rear nearly touched his chest. “Come on,” I panted, flashing him both of my freshly earned cutie marks. “Come on...”

He finally understood when I flicked my tail at him, first to the left, then to the right, like a single sweep of a metronome. Before the second beat, he almost knocked me over with a botched attempt to mount me, a crookedly aimed lunge that ended with him trying to drag me down sideways.

His second attempt landed his forelegs squarely on my sides, and we both gasped as something of his brushed against something of mine. He shifted his weight, and pressing the head into me just enough so that it came to a rest there, poised at my entrance.

“I love you,” he said again, directly into my ear.

“Do it!” I gasped back.

At those words, I felt Mahogany inhale sharply, like a singer getting ready to belt the first note of a song.

He entered me in a single flowing stroke. It hurt. I wanted more. I sang back an unabashed wail of pure, dissonant glory. When he reached the end of my depth, he pulled back again, drawing out another keening cry as his flare glided painfully, wonderfully, across places on my body that had never been touched before.

We went on that way for only a little while more, long enough for him to discover some of the notes that he could play on my body. He slowed, sped, and rested without rhyme or reason, exploring my body unfettered by rules or expectations. Sometimes he touched me almost reverently, exploring my body with the innocence of a curious foal. Other times he plunged me without restraint, daring to let his instincts impose their primal will upon both of our bodies.

We parted ways at the end of the night, but we promised to meet again. Eventually, we developed a kind of code in a childish attempt to keep our “secret” from classmates and parents: we called our little sessions “music lessons.”

“Very good, Fiddlesticks. I can tell that you’ve gotten much more diligent about practicing.” Mrs. Fuji smiled at me as she said it, but there was a question in her smile.

I just nodded.

“Well, let’s move on to the next song. Turn to ‘Eastwind Sonata’.”

I turned the page, raised my fiddle, and poised the bow.

“Six, seven, eight...”

I played. I did well. Mrs. Fuji was right--I had been practicing with the fiddle a lot recently, in order to fill the silence that had suddenly taken hold of my life. I played in perfect time, controlling the pressure, speed, and placement of my bow to produce a perfect sound.

“Very good.” She smiled that same questioning smile at me, and allowed the silence to settle over the room for a little while.

I quickly spoke up. “What shall I play next, Mrs. Fuji?”

This time she didn’t let me win so easily. “Why did you suddenly decide to start practicing so well?”

“I have more time now,” I monotoned.

“Really? What was your time occupied by before?”

I tried to turn away before letting Mrs. Fuji see how my expression had soured at that question. I failed. “Other music lessons,” I said, hefting my instrument and poising my bow again as a way to demand that Mrs. Fuji give me the order to play the next song. “I’ve decided that the fiddle is the right one for me.”

Mrs. Fuji nodded once. “Good. I’d hate for you to quit after you went through all the trouble of getting a friend to carve you that nice carrying case. I’m glad you’re back in the saddle, as it were.” Her smile was still the same.

This time, I just let the silence hang. I’d already been forced to hear that silence in every gap between songs and conversations for the last few weeks, so what was the point in trying to fight it now?

“Well, never mind. Turn to--Ah, I see you already have. Ready... five, six, seven eight...”

The last note echoed through the streets of the town for a few moments, and then was gone. No applause, of course--just the hiss of the wind in the darkening post-twilight, mingling with my own panting breaths. I realized that I was sweating, and that my forelegs hurt from how frantically I’d been playing.

My bow hung limp at my side, but I still balanced the fiddle on my shoulder as I looked out over the darkening town, trying to close my ears to the silence that I knew would soon follow the ending of my song. I wondered if the rutter who’d slammed the door on me this morning had heard me play. I envisioned him stopping in the middle of the street, then turning to look towards the roof of the house he’d stormed out of, only to see me there, playing a song that he was no longer part of.

And then, before I could stop myself, I dared to wonder if Mahogany had heard me play. I imagined him wandering the streets doing this or that--and then he’d stop, upon hearing the voice of an instrument that he’d been intimately familiar with, so long ago. He’d look up, and see me, shilouetted against the evening sky with fiddle raised and hat lowered...

And maybe he’d turn back to his mare and keep on leading her home. “It’s nothing,” he would say. “Just someone playing a song that I used to like.”

Or maybe his breath would catch in his chest, and he’d drop whatever he was doing and start running towards where he’d heard an echo from his past, rushing to join me in singing this song that had always been about him and him alone. He would run to my door and knock three times without a second thought, only then stopping to catch his breath. When I came to answer the door, I would see Mahogany there, with his autumn coat and wildfire mane, and he’d look up at me with those eyes, deep evergreen eyes that still belonged to the colt from all those years ago, shining all the brighter in the dying sunlight. I’d invite him in, and...

I set the fiddle back into its case, then fitted the lid back over the top, and latched it.

Dusk faded into night, and the world around me lay silent.

Reflections

Fluttershy cradled Rainbow Dash's head against her chest, stroking her mane in the firelight. Highlights danced along its strands silky and soft. She lifted her own head from her pillow and slipped a hoof into the folds of Rainbow's wing.

"No, don't stop," Dash said. "That feels nice."

"I was just thinking." Fluttershy looked into the campfire light reflected in Dash's eyes. "About one time around a campfire, when I was staying with the deer, remember?"

"Oh. Yeah! Wasn't that the summer I was at Junior Speedsters?"

"Mmm-hmm." Fluttershy took a deep breath. "Have you ever had a moment when you feel very... pony?"

"What do you mean?" Dash rolled as if to sit up, but Fluttershy stopped her with a hoof on her chest.

"When you're not like any other kind of creature, and you feel alone - but you're not sure if you should be ashamed or proud of it?"

"I..."

"And it's something you regret, maybe?"

Rainbow laughed. "Nuh-uh. This pony's got no regrets."

"Oh. Really?"

"Fluttershy, I am one hundred percent sure about that."

The dog-summer sun beat into Dash's eyes mixing with the sweat that was creeping from her forelock. Downrange the target shimmered in the heat, or maybe it was just the wind pulling tears from her eyes. She shuddered, then almost swore as the movement pulled the black point of her forward sight all out of whack.

"Easy, Dash. Easy," Gilda said, lying prone next to her. "You've got good form, just relax and squeeeeeze - well, bite, you know."

Dash took a deep breath and pulled the griffon-built weapon solidly against her shoulder. Its bit tasted of the oil it had been packed in; it wasn't often that anypony set hoof in Grimhold, and it still surprised her that they could make guns work for anypony - anyone - who didn't have talons. Her heart pounded, but she looked through the hole in its rear sight, just a tiny little hole that swelled and pulsed as her eye focused and refocused.

She had to get three points to line up at once: the pinhole, the front blade, the bright yellow dried squash sitting on a rock three dozen strides away. And the moment she did that she had to trip the trigger - except it was more complicated than that. Gilda insisted that she must not jerk, or nip, at the bit. She had to let the moment surprise her, which was really bucking frustrating when three different things were floating three different ways and she'd just--

Twack-krrr!

The gun kicked her shoulder and hammered her ears and ripped across the surrounding craggy peaks. The gourd stood untouched.

"That's okay, Dash. Just take a deep breath and try again."

"Hookay," Dash breathed. Something inside the bit clicked when she loosened the pressure she'd been applying with her tongue. It had been a surprise - for all the good it did - and now she was doing her best to fight her instinct to spread her wings and fly of and leave that dumb stupid vegetable mocking her...

Oh buck that. Dash took another deep breath and through sheer force of will and maybe a little awesomeness calmed her trembling forehooves. Sights and target drifted together. Gently she sunk her tongue into the warm brass.

Twack-krrr!

The griffons of Grimhold built their homes from stone and roofed them with thatch and let coniferous trees grow between them for shade. The trees grew slow and stunted and wizened in the wind. Outside the village in places here and there the soil grew thin and blew from the bones of the mountain and in those places orange lichen clung to the granite.

And a few days before it was into one such clearing that Gilda and Dash landed, Gilda sure-pawed but Dash's shoes clinking and scraping against the pitted stone. Side-by-side they walked into the village. Both wore bags, Gilda's slung under her chest and Dash's over her lower back, because they were shopping for the evening meal.

"Hey, G," Dash said, "I think I want to go hunting too."

Gilda laughed or maybe she scoffed but Dash knew there was no mean spirit behind it. "So, you wanna be the great pony hunter, slayer of beasts. That it, Dash?"

"Well, no. But it's like your mom was saying to Greg. It's not really - what was that word she used? Griffonish? Anyway, that to eat something you won't kill yourself."

"Gifferlich," said Gilda. "But yeah, it means 'griffonish' or 'grown-up' or something like that. You still look like a pony to me. You came along to pick out an entirely unreasonable variety of vegetables because you are obsessed with fiber."

Dash paused and looked around the market to which they had came. It was built in a clearing, with a wide shallow granite bowl set on raised paving stones in the middle. It overflowed its sides, animated by some kind of magic or griffon technology, and served both as a public fountain and a kind of mirror reflecting the wooly white clouds that meandered the untamed sky above.

Griffons bustled about, some even pulling carts, and it was across their activity that Dash peered. "Unreasonable? Try having colic some time. Seriously not fun. Now I think I see some squash that are calling for us. Now I like meat, and it only seems fair."

"You don't have to be gifferlich, Dash. You're a fine pony-"

"You came to Junior Speedsters to play pretend pony. How come you get to have all the fun?"

"Fun? C'mere, Dash." Before Dash could protest, Gilda had pounced on her, wrapped taloned arms under her chest and lifted with the breathtaking effortless strength griffons had. She deposited them both at the edge of the pool. "Look."

"Yeah, yeah. I'm a pony. You're a griffon. And I'll never measure up, just like you never really were comfortable there..." Dash rolled her eyes. "Can't I at least try?"

"Sure," Gilda said. "You can try for fun. Because you're practically made of fun and before you get all offended..." Gilda set her claws gently on the nape of Dash's neck and her great golden eyes and hooked beak stared in reflection at Dash, who thought she could see her own toughness and determination on her own face. G's talons pricked her skin lightly - it felt dangerous and maybe a little sexy too.

Gilda purred, "I like that about you, pony girl. Be fun, be tough, be every bit as gifferlich as your sugar-soaked heart desires. But I promise you, the hunt isn't exactly fun. Thrilling, yes. And yes you can come along. Just... know that you get what you choose, I guess."

Hunting turned out to be boring and sort of lame, if Dash were to be totally honest with herself. She expected more shooting and griffons dropping out of trees with beaks and claws and stuff like that. Sure, she had an alarmingly large switchblade strapped to her left hoof and a loaded slug-gun hanging from a harness - but both were getting heavy and the novelty, the fact that griffons didn't even bat an eye at anyone flying around armed to the gills like that, had long since worn off.

Dash saw green, green, and more green broken here and there by the branches of trees or rocks on the ground. Greg, Gilda's little brother, perched lower in the same tree. G herself was a little ways off to their right. Hogs were supposed to be taking the bait below, giving Greg a chance to pounce on one or Rainbow to take a shot if he gave the signal.

The only problem was the hogs hadn't shown up. Rainbow had figured it would be like buying bacon in the market - oh, she had no illusions of a wild animal magically turning into neat little paper-wrapped parcels, but she just assumed that if there was bacon to be had, it would just be there and if not they'd look somewhere else. All this waiting blowed a real arctic wind up her puss.

Something rustled in a bush. Dash's heart thudded and she scanned the bushes trying to see what it was. Greg swooped closer and closer and a big black beach-ball of fur stumbled out of the bushes.

A moment later, Dash recognized it. It was a bear cub.

"Greg! Get out of there!" Gilda shouted. "Stupid chick."

Twack-krrr! Greg shot the cub. Then, he disappeared. That was the only way Dash could describe it: he was hovering low one moment, clutching his gun. In the next, he had been replaced by a much larger mountain of black fur. The cub's mother.

Dash could practically taste the adrenaline in her mouth. It seemed to freeze her to her perch.

Twack-krrr! Dash's head jerked toward the sound, Gilda taking an airborne shot as she flew by her brother, who was trying to extract himself from a tree. "Dash!" Gilda shouted. "We need help here!"

That finally unglued Rainbow Dash from her shock. She sprang into the fight and afterwards couldn't remember exactly what happened next. She must have tried to shoot the bear. She at least got her gun up - she must have, because the recoil knocked her clean out of the air and onto her ass on the ground.

She next remembered the bear about to charge her. She struggled to lift her gun, not to terribly hard, but she couldn't seem to find the trigger. Everything seemed to slow down. Her hooves were incredibly heavy, the bit - she had lost the damn bit and she felt the moment when it was too late.

Only by luck, she went for her knife, strapped to her left forehoof. She only had to press the button with her right - it was supposed to be very stiff, but she barely felt the resistance. The bear was closer, closer, on top of her! Dash swung once, nicking its nose, then she flailed her hoof back. This time it caught on something that wrenched her hoof. She ripped it free, staring into the bear's mad eyes.

Hot blood poured onto Dash's chest, then the bear fell on top of her, crushing out her breath. It tried to rise, getting up on one paw and swatting her weakly with the other. If the bear weren't already dying, its claws would have opened her ribcage like a can of beans.

As it was, it hurt. It hurt a whole buck of a lot. Then the bear didn't roar. It tried to, but it gurgled frothy pink blood from its mouth and from the second, jagged mouth Dash had opened under its chin. It's teeth were huge, yellow, and sharp. They were about to come down and tear out Dash's throat in return.

Except that was the moment when the bear's face exploded into ground meat, bone, and brains, all of which which showered Dash's face.

She didn't actually remember hearing the shot. And it wasn't until Greg and Gilda worked together to haul the bear off her that Dash realized she had thoroughly shit herself too.

The scar on Dash's chest had faded into her coat so well that nopony could see it. Still, she could feel it with her own hoof as she lay back in Fluttershy's embrace. Dash told herself again that she didn't regret killing the bear. So she wasn't actually telling a lie. And it wasn't something she could tell Fluttershy anyway.

"But," she said, "look, Shy. I love you. If there's something you need to get off your chest, I promise I'll understand and I swear - absolutely swear - I'll keep it secret. Even if you're a killer or something. I'll understand."

Fluttershy jolted in place, sending a shock through Dash's back and wing. "Oh goodness, no. It wasn't that. But I was with the deer and... things happened. Wonderful things I guess, but..."

Melliflua, though the other deer hardly ever called her by her full name, had a gift for water that was rare among does. The first time Fluttershy saw her, she was sitting on her haunches, dainty black forehooves tucked together in front of her crotch and belly, which were creamy white. Her back was arrow-straight as if she were watching over something, but her eyes were closed, her ears relaxed downwards, and she had a short pair of antlers that made Fluttershy assume on first glance that she was a buck, albeit a buck with an elegant, almost feminine, face.

Fluttershy still hadn't gotten used to the appearance of deer. They were all lean and wiry, skinny, she thought, and narrow-chested. Their legs were spindly like twigs. Their backs looked naked without wings. Cloudsdale had been home to pegasi and griffons and only the occasional unicorn, and to be here, on the ground with dirt underhoof and the forest canopy above as a ceiling not a carpet disoriented the young mare.

Mell sat below a tree on an island in the middle of a pool. Fluttershy stopped short on the opposite bank. She could hear the waterfall which fed the pool, just around the bend behind her. Everything else was still - but the water was moving. It didn't ripple and splash downstream from the fall. Waves wheeled against the current, like spokes of a wheel centered on the antlered figure sitting under the tree. Fluttershy stopped to watch.

Gradually she came to notice the slight rise and fall of Mell's slender chest and a light that was playing over her antlers. It was almost too faint to notice in the sunlight, but it reminded her of the few unicorns she knew - this deer was working magic. Her antlers grew sideways just in front of her ears, splitting and curving upward to four soft and fuzzy points. The aura that played over them was a pastel blue.

Something black, wet, and shiny emerged from the water, shook itself, scurried up Mell's back and chattered at Fluttershy. She startled and rose to a hover, knocking her head into the branch overhead, yelping in pain, and falling on her rump. The animal bolted into the brush behind Mell, who at last opened her eyes and spoke.

"You really do fly, Bright One." Her voice was a mellow alto, too deep to be a foal's - a faun's, Fluttershy corrected herself - and too smooth to be a buck's.

"Wait, are you a doe?" Fluttershy asked. She clapped her forehooves to her face. "Sorry. I'm being awfully rude."

Mell barked a single laugh like a thunderclap. Along with it the water surged in a wave that struck the bank below Fluttershy and splashed her mane. "You are bright in colors and strange in manners, pony, but I think too strange to be polite or to be rude just yet." She rose to her feet and forded the brook to where Fluttershy sat. "Are you a doe?"

"P- pegasus mare. My name's Fluttershy." The first part still sounded strange to say. Fluttershy had only gotten her cutie mark the summer before. Now she was here, out of school, visiting the Whitetail Woods for an entire year. Her sister had helped arrange the trip; she knew a pony at work whose cousin was friends with deer. But Fluttershy was here alone wondering exactly when she had stopped being a filly. "I'm here because my special talent has a connection to animals - I think - and there aren't a lot of them in Cloudsdale, so I guess-"

"Are pegasuses animals, Bright Shy? Are we deer animals?"

"Oh. I... I guess..."

"Stop messing around, Mell, and answer the question. If you can." The voice belonged to a deer Fluttershy already knew, a young buck named Ravast, who had just rounded the trail. His antlers were larger and their velvet was beginning to fall off to reveal a nest of sharp points. He answered before Mell could speak for herself. "She's the herd's freemartin freak. She's just a doe with a rack, 'cuz a deer sure can't be a buck if she's got a cunt. We call her Mell."

Fluttershy felt like she had swallowed something sour and hot. She leaped to her hooves. "Now just you wait there!" she gently cried, but Ravast was gone.

"Do you think it matters? When it does I am a doe. My name is Melliflua," the doe said. She stood next to Fluttershy. "But my friends and herdmates call me Mell. He is my heardmate. I would like it very much if you are my friend."

Fluttershy took a deep breath and did her best to let her temper go. Mell stood beside her, short and slender. Fluttershy wasn't sure if her missing mane was what made her ears look so big. Her eyes, big and brown, grabbed hold of Fluttershy's own. She was so very strange and yet she seemed kind enough. Fluttershy smiled and nodded. "If you want to call me Bright Shy or something, I don't mind."

Fluttershy met Mell the very first day she spent with the deer. That night the herd held a bonfire for her. Looking back on it, it hardly seemed like she knew anyone then - Mell and Ravast of course, also a doe named Patah who had met her sky-chariot and helped her settle in. That night she met the elder stag, who they called Rukh, though she later learned that was his title and not his name.

Rukh was tall even by pony standards and he grew a rack that was gnarled and broad. The hair on his muzzle was streaked with grey and when he took Fluttershy aside to speak, his voice was rumbly and smooth, like it had been cut from stone steps worn down by centuries of hooffalls.

"I see you have earned your Marks, pony, and I presume to know enough about your kind to understand what they mean. You are a grown mare and by custom responsible for yourself, yes?"

"Yes," Fluttershy said, neither sure what Rukh was getting at nor comfortable with it.

"And you plan to stay with us an entire year?"

"I do."

"Hmmm..." Rukh stretched out a foreleg from where he lay and stretched and twisted his neck. "I cannot tell you what to think. I can only ask. Please do not judge us by the coming weeks. Rut is an awkward season for foreigners and for our youth. I would rather you arrived after its end than now, just when it is to begin."

"Rut?" Fluttershy's heart pounded. "Is that your breeding season?"

"Indeed. I have made it clear to the bucks that you are a guest and out of bounds. They are to watch each other. If at any time you feel it necessary to enforce those limits, you may do so with whatever force you deem reasonable."

It was a beautiful night, even by the standards of late summer in the Woods. But at that moment, Fluttershy felt an icy wind. "F- f- force? Will I h- have to?"

"It would surprise me and disappoint the honor of my herd. I do not think so. But if I may give some advice: do not pursue a buck without making your intentions publicly known."

"I wasn't planning to," Fluttershy said. She wondered if she had been expected to.

"Mmmm," Rukh rumbled. "That is good. I have also heard that you and Melliflua have met. She is a fine young thing. Sometimes I wonder if she is my grand-daughter or great-grand-daughter."

"Oh," said Fluttershy.

"In any case she is a treasure of the heard, yet I fear she may not be appreciated. Be a friend to her. No, no - I cannot demand that of you. But if you should be friends, it would be good for the heart of this old stag."

Fluttershy had never been a pony to forge many friendships, but the few that she made seemed to come quickly and deep. By the end of her first week with the deer, she felt as comfortable with her as if they had known each other for years.

So one day, not even two weeks after her arrival, she was surprised to be reminded how little they knew about each other. They were lying in a meadow not far from the herd's corn-fields. Fluttershy stretched out on her back with wings spread into the sunlight, as was the habit of many pegasi.

"Is that comfortable?" Mell asked. "I shall try it too." She lay in the opposite direction, so either could raise her head over her chest and see the other. It took some trying; the first time she rolled over, she crashed against Fluttershy's side and both laughed.

"I am lying on your wing," Mell said once she had twisted herself around.

Fluttershy recognized her deerish habit of apologizing for minor offenses by stating them plainly. It was Fluttershy's turn to complain or not. She said, "You're not heavy and I don't mind."

"You remind me: I have meant to ask what it is like to be a pony. You have a special talent, yes? When did you know?"

Fluttershy pulled her head up with one forehoof and brought the other to Mell's chest so that their lower limbs touched yellow to tawny.

"Last summer I went to practice flying with a lot of other fillies and colts and my friend, Rainbow Dash, was there too," she began. She told the story of how weak a flyer she'd been, how she fell, and how she met so many creatures on the ground. Mell made her stop and describe Rainbow in detail, the bullies, how the air felt whistling through her mane and ears.

"And you having a friend, it helped you understand what kind of a pony you are supposed to be?"

"Well, yes and no." Fluttershy stared up at the clouds. She hadn't really thought of Rainbow lately. "She belongs in the sky. I'm starting to like the ground. She made it possible for me to discover my talent. I don't think she could be still enough to really get to know birds or squirrels."

"I have seen you let birds perch on your wings," Mell said.

Fluttershy laughed. "Their claws prickle and tickle. I have to try hard to stay still."

"You have magic, I think. For them to come so close to you."

Fluttershy and Melliflua lay in the late summer grass, listening to the wind rustle and the cicadas whine.

"I guess I do have magic," Fluttershy said. "It reminds me of something I read in a book, about how all ponies have magic, not just unicorns. Magic is just a word for when talents reflect off each other, it said."

Mell picked herself up. "I want to show you something. May you fly us there?"

"I..." Fluttershy considered it as she climbed to her hooves. "We can try. Are you scared of heights?"

"Not if I am holding on to you."

Fluttershy spread her wings and crouched her hindquarters, letting Mell climb up her back. Mell's forehooves locked around her neck and her hams fit into the hollows of her flanks. "Okay. Here goes. I'm not the strongest flyer, so I don't know if this will work."

As light as Mell was, she still weighed Fluttershy down. It took heavy wing-beats to haul them both into the air. But then Fluttershy could feel Mell's neck against her own and hear her faint, excited "Woah" in her ear. Both seemed to lift her into the air, to the level of the tree canopies and into a bit of a cross-wind.

"Where are we going?" Fluttershy asked.

"To the brook" Mell said. She pointed with one black-tipped hoof and hugged the other tighter around Fluttershy's throat.

"Got it," Fluttershy could see the scar the brook cut into the canopy, where the trees were missing. Mell had pointed to the falls, pool, and island. They flew heavy, but Fluttershy's wings rose to meet the challenge and before long at all, she was bringing them down gently onto the island.

"I have magic, too," Mell whispered.

"I know. You did that thing with the water."

Mell let go when they were still nearly a pony's height off the ground and landed deftly on her springy limbs. "No, I mean this."

She sat and once again, and as Fluttershy watched, the water began to ripple and wave against its current.

"What are you doing?" Fluttershy asked.

"I am becoming the brook."

By luck that day it didn't take long before a wet, hairy black head with shiny beady-black eyes broke the surface of the water. Fluttershy sat completely still and a tubular yet muscled body followed, climbing up the muddy banks and then up Mell's back. The creature turned its face toward Fluttershy. His muzzle was a lighter shade of grey, surrounded with a bush of whiskers. He blinked, then yawned, showing brilliant white and needle-sharp teeth, and nestled himself around Mell's neck.

"I call him Swims-Faster," she said. "He eats fish. So maybe I have a talent, even though I do not have a mark. Maybe it is like yours."

"Sometimes," Fluttershy admitted, gently so that she did not alarm Swims-Faster. "Sometime's I'm not so sure myself. I'm supposed to be growing up, but..."

"Look in the water," Mell said. "Sometimes I too miss what others can see."

Fluttershy took a few soft steps forward, so that her hooves were in the bank mud. Her reflection in the pool greeted her, next to Mell's and Swims-Faster's, but it wasn't the gangly adolescent she still thought of herself as. She had grown even taller in the last year especially, but her frame had filled out so she wasn't nearly as spindly. To her surprise she saw a young mare.

"I am proud of what I have made this summer. You will see it too soon."

"What did you do?"

"Wait and be surprised." Mell laughed and Swims-Faster bounded from her shoulder and disappeared below the surface of the pool.

Fluttershy waited and busied herself with the small chores of the forest, gathering seeds and browsing for shoots. Her sister had suggested time with deer because, even more so than earth ponies, they lived close to nature. They were not entirely without technology: they slept outside but built storehouses for food. Within the herd's range there were numerous gardens and fields, and one day without any warning or gossip Rukh announced that it was time to harvest corn.

And so it was.

Everyone worked hard for three solid days from sunrise to well into the late summer evenings. Fluttershy worked hard with them too, especially once they realized that she, much more than the strongest stag, could pull a cart like only a pony could.

They finished on the fourth day in the early afternoon, then immediately set about preparing a feast and gathering the crop scraps to serve as fuel for a huge bonfire. Deer napped throughout the afternoon.

Dusk came. The fires roared.

Fluttershy sat with a cob of roasted corn. Deer were holding them by skewers set into the ends of the cobs, which they manipulated with the splits in their hooves. Fluttershy, being a solid-hoofed pony, was having to get more creative.

Mell laughed. "You are not doing that easily. Let me help." She sat next to Fluttershy and reached her legs around her neck. Fluttershy gratefully handed the corn over. The heat of Mell's body felt good against her side, and she hugged her friend with a wing.

"So do you like what I made?" Mell asked.

"What?"

"The corn. I helped to irrigate it." Her grin glowed in the firelight. "What do you think of my antlers?"

"I'm sorry, I don't quite und-" Melliflua suddenly shifted, swinging her foreleg over Fluttershy's head and grabbing one of Fluttershy's. She rubbed an antler against its fetlock.

Fluttershy had never touched a unicorn's horn or deer's antler. She was surprised at the energy that seemed to be flowing over it, a vibrating thrum that seemed to sound through her entire body. Where hoof and antler touched, she could see the blue glow of Mell's magic, bright in the darkness.

Mell asked again, "What do you think of my antlers?"

"I- I haven't, really. They look good on you, at least I think so, but once I got to know you I kind of stopped noticing."

"We did not have a buck this year whose magic handles water, so Rukh said that I should call the rain," Mell explained. "So I did so."

Fluttershy's mouth dropped open in astonishment. "I just realized something. All the bucks have antlers. All the other does, except you, do not. But you are the only deer I have seen with magic like our unicorns."

"Bucks work magic in the spring. Does do not. That is the way it is. I am something different, but I think that I did something good."

"Oh," Fluttershy said. "And Ravast? Is that what made him so cross?"

"He moves the wind and he is good at it. But he thinks for magic a deer needs a penis, not just antlers in velvet." Mell giggled and hugged Fluttershy tightly. "And he is jealous because I have kept my velvet even now, the first night of the rut. I do not think I could fight with these even if I wanted to."

"Tonight?" Fluttershy asked. "It starts tonight?"

"You are prohibited to the stags," Mell reminded her. "And since this is my first year, I am not to bear fawns even if my body can."

"You don't know?" Fluttershy asked.

"I wish to try next year. But I do not know if I am fertile."

"Oh. I see. Good luck," said Fluttershy. "I think it will be a long time before I've found a special stallion for myself and my foals. I'm still trying to figure out where I fit in and what my talent means, you know."

Mell took her hoof from Fluttershy's shoulder and wrapped it around her chest. Then she began to rub gently, running her dewclaws through the hair of Fluttershy's underside.

"Melliflua, um- oh!" Fluttershy gasped when her friend brought her hoof lower, feeling along her navel and tits.

"Ponies only have two?" Mell asked, innocently.

"What are you doing?!" Fluttershy demanded. A blush was rising in her cheeks.

Mell took her hoof away. "I am sorry. I meant for us to celebrate this night, because we are friends though we will not breed this year."

"I... I'm sorry, too, Mel. And you are a good friend, but I don't love you like that. I want to keep my sex to myself until I find the right pony. So I'm sorry that you're not." Fluttershy took her wing back to herself. And then, because it was too awkward to stay, she got up and went.

Pegasi didn't control the weather here. Except for the deer's magic nobody did. So it was only by luck that there were low, flat clouds tonight. She needed to take a break, to lie in them, to... to be separate from the deer for a breather.

The cloud on which Fluttershy landed was gauzy-thin, so that she could look down on the bonfire and party below, if she chose. She lay with her back towards them, facing the moon and the mare imprisoned within, wondering what the right stallion would be like. Her hoof lay along her crotch, which was still warm with her surprised arousal. She didn't think it meant anything: somebody had touched her belly. It was only natural for her clit to respond and push the base of her cun out into a little tent between her legs.

It would feel so nice to clop right now, imagining the perfect stallion. He'd be gentle, even if others were unfair to him - that is the truest test of gentleness. He'd be confident in and proud of his talent. He would have to put up with animals, because it was starting to look like Fluttershy might keep a lot, so if he had a pet river otter...

And adorable brown-velveted antlers. Fluttershy groaned. So, no, there was no way that she could make a life with Melliflua. But then again, it wasn't what she had asked for.

Or what Rukh had asked for the outcast, the one deer who might not be the most appealing with her straightforwardness and butch, buck-mocking, ever-magical antlers. Rukh wanted Fluttershy to be a friend. "Mell" was her name to herdmates and friends. Suddenly, Fluttershy recognized something. She turned to look below, but couldn't see well enough. So she pushed through and overflew the clearing where the heard was gathered.

Herdmates embraced. Herdmates kissed. A few were kissing between another's legs. But only with her sudden insight could she see the two things that weren't there. Bucks kissed bucks. Does kissed does. But no herdmates went beyond embraces if they were buck and doe. And many of the bucks were already gone.

Already gone.

Rukh didn't know if a deer was his descendent. Deer had friends, but she knew no couples who were couples. Deer were herdmates, or they were friends, and the culture shock tore her heart in two. Fluttershy searched the whole clearing for Mell.

Like many of the bucks, she was already gone. If she had wandered off looking for other herds like they had, herds who were not kin, Fluttershy didn't even know if bucks ever returned.

But when it mattered, Mell had said, she was a doe. And so Fluttershy felt pretty good about her chances as she climbed out of the clearing and looked out across the forest. In the moonlight, she spied the scar in the canopy where the brook and the pool by the falls kept the trees from growing.

She flew to the island as fast as she could and hovered down to the island. Melliflua sat there as still as a statue with drooping ears but none of her magic lit her antlers.

"I am content," she said. "I am not your special somepony."

"I'm sorry," Fluttershy said. "I only just figured things out but I want to be your deer friend." She sat on her haunches beside Mell. She snaked her forehooves around her flanks. She kissed the base of Mell's ear then her antler,
which still buzzed with power.

Mell pushed herself back into Fluttershy's embrace. "Oh. I have wanted you, Bright Shy."

Her deerish under-fur blazed silver in the moonlight. Fluttershy set her down on the soft moss that grew there and set about kissing every inch of it, starting with her lips. Mell didn't kiss back very hard, so Shy moved down her neck and up the inside of her foreleg, leading to her hoof.

She hadn't really taken a close look at any deer's hoof before. Now Fluttershy cradled Mell's between her own and marveled. She had four toes: two formed her cloven hoof, two were tiny black adorable dewclaws. But she hadn't been expecting how soft they were, two leathery pads behind the keratin formed the sole of Mell's hoof.

It was like she walked on her frogs all the time. It was amazing. Fluttershy kissed and ran her lips and cheeks over Mell's foot. Her hair was prickly, the keratin smooth and sharp, the pads soft, tough, and warm.

Mell giggled. "Are you having fun, Shy? My most interesting parts are down here." She pointed her free hoof at her belly.

"Oh. Right. You just have very nice hooves."

Fluttershy moved to Mell's sternum and kissed her way down, making progress now, but not rushing. She seriously hoped she was doing it right - she and Rainbow had talked about it that year when they had breaks at school, how to give good sex. It had all been theoretical, second hoof. Now she was doing it and -

And Mell's very nice hooves were now running over her mane, prickling and prodding at the margins of her wings, massaging their muscles. Mell laughed again and the sound vibrated up from her belly.

Fluttershy nosed through Mell's coat on her belly. "Ooh. There's one," she said and licked messily at one of her tits. "Does that feel good?"

"Mmm-hmm."

"I think I'll like it, too. Um, how many?"

"Four."

Fluttershy took her time touring Mell's belly, then up and down either thigh. Hers weren't as solid and meaty as Fluttershy's own, but she didn't complain, and her musk began to fill Fluttershy's nose. Come to think of it, her own arousal was hanging heavily below her tail.

Mell's short tail stood out flat along the ground. Fluttershy drew back and regarded her work: the mussed hair of Mell's belly, her wide-spread thighs and the wet little slit below them. She didn't have the soft hills Fluttershy would recognize on a mare like herself, but everything was more or less where it should be. Just leaner and more muscular - like everything else about deer.

"Mell, I'd like to do your slit now."

Mell groaned. "Please."

"Let me know if this is too intense."

"Mmm."

Fluttershy bent her head low, lying across one thigh. She opened her wings, one of which Mell took with her forehooves.

And then she opened her jaw and slowly started licking her way around the shallows of Mell's vulva, rewarded with moans that grew deeper and less coherent.

When Fluttershy finished her story, Dash took a deep breath. "So, I'm still trying to see what you did wrong, Shy."

"Why do I feel so guilty, then? I didn't love her. Not really. It was just something silly and adolescent and... I shouldn't have. I'd rather... have had my first time with you."

"Shy, Shy, you know what? Did you keep in touch with this Mell doe? She sounds kinda hot."

Fluttershy jabbed Dash hard in the ribs. "I'm trying to be serious."

"So am I. You, me, and her? I bet we could make it work out. Anyway, that doesn't count. Let me tell you a real regret, Fluttershy."

"I thought you said you didn't have any."

Dash sighed. "Well, that was a lie. And you're probably going to hate me forever for what I did."

Dinky's First Kill

"Mommy!"

Dinky Hooves's mommy once told her that fillies are called fillies because they're filled with love, and that was why Dinky, age six, had lots of love to give. She loved her mommy and her Aunt Carrot Top, and her school teacher Mrs. Sharpener, even though she smelled funny. She loved her stuffed zebra Boopsie that the nice zebra lady gave her for Nightmare Night, and blueberry muffins, and her friends Tootsie Flute and Pipsqueak, and no she hadn't kissed him ever, and no she didn't want to.

"Mommy!"

Out of all the ponies and all the things in all the world that she had encountered during her lifetime, however, there was one thing, or rather one class of things, for which Dinky Hooves could muster no love.

"MOOOOOOMMYYYYYY!"

The door to Dinky's room opened and her mommy stepped in, a puff of flour on her cheek. She looked at the bed, which was empty, and her left eye panned across the room until it found Dinky, wobbly perched atop a chair back, pointing with a hoof at a dark spot on the floor.

"Sweetie, come down off that chair before you hurt yourself," her mommy said softly. "I'll get the spider, don't worry."

Dinky slipped down onto the seat of the chair, keeping her hooves off the floor as her mommy left the room and came back a few long, tense moments later with a water glass and a postcard. She glanced around the room, found the dark blotch where it had originally been, and dropped the glass upside-down over it. Then she leaned down with the card in her mouth, sliding it carefully under the lip of the glass.

There was no chance of the spider escaping, yet Dinky could not let it go unwatched. Its legs rose and fell slowly as it crept along the card prodding it. It reached the edge of the glass and stopped, then placed three spindly, hairy legs against it, seemingly content to rest in the corner between wall and floor as Dinky's mommy lifted the postcard. Carefully, she flapped her wings and rose into the air, then clamped her hooves around the glass.

"Now you wait there," she said, "and I'll take this spider outside so he can join his friends and family."

Dinky waited on the chair until she heard the front door squeak open, and then she waited a minute more. When she was certain that the terrifying beast was no longer invading her home, she let out a long sigh and put her hooves on the floor. The door squeaked closed and latched with a click, and then her mommy trotted back into the bedroom.

"There now, isn't that all better? No more icky spiders to frighten my Dinky."

Dinky rushed over and gave her mommy a proper hero hug. With her eyes squeezed shut, all she could see was the spider, brown and loathsome, lurking against the edge of the glass, watching her as it was carried out of the house.

"What if it goes back to its spider friends and tells them about me?"

Dinky's question was soft enough that nopony not on the swing set with her and her friends would have heard it. She was busy looking at the ground and not swinging. Pipsqueak laughed, kicking his swing higher.

"Spiders don't talk, silly!" he said.

Dinky did not feel like laughing and did not see what was so funny.

"Mama says that Miss Fluttershy can talk to animals," Tootsie Flute said, making her swing twist back and forth. "So maybe they can so talk."

"Nuh-uh."

"Yeah-huh!" Tootsie stuck her tongue out. "But you don't hafta worry, Dinky. What would that spider say, anyway?"

Dinky bit her lip and noticed the gravel was a particularly gray shade of gray today. "It would say, umm... That I'm scared of spiders?"

"If a narsty ol' spider came into my house," Pip declared, "Auntie would squash it!"

Tootsie gasped. "Pip, that's mean!"

"Well I don't like spiders neither," he said with a haughty sniff. Letting go of the swing at the apex of its arc, he flapped his hooves and shouted, "Yeeee!" before crunching down into the gravel on all fours.

Dinky kicked her hooves, but her swing didn't move.

"Maybe they talk about how they like scaring me," she said. "Maybe they'll build a spider army to come back when I'm asleep and, and..."

"And truss you up in a giiiiiant web!" Pip said, his face lit up with wonder at the image.

"Nooo!" Dinky wailed, and Tootsie hopped off her swing, sticking her nose into Pipsqueak's face.

"Stop being mean and scary, Pip!"

Pip huffed and turned his back on her. "Well, I'm a-scared of spiders too, so it's okay."

"You are not!" Tootsie stood on her hind legs and put her hooves on her hips. "You're a-posed to be a fearless pirate!"

"Just 'cuz I'm a fearless pirate don't mean I can't be scared of something," Pip said plainly. "Otherwise it wouldn't be fair." He puffed out his chest. "I'm not scared-a all spiders, neither. Just the ooky ones."

Tootsie Flute giggled, then tried to stifle it with a frown. "Which ones are the ooky ones?"

Pip stuck out his tongue. "Them ones with the long, stringy legs. I read a book about science once't and I don't think they can really go walkin' on hairs like that. It's not right. And anyway," he added quickly, "I know what happened last time there was a snake on the playground, so you can't say you're not scared of nothin' neither!"

Tootsie Flute blanched slightly at the mention of that snake. It had been small and green, Dinky remembered. One of the older bullies had picked it up with magic and shook it at Tootsie, and she had almost turned the same color as the snake before running away from it, crying.

"That don't mean nothing," Tootsie grumbled, sitting down on her haunches and looking away from him.

The sound of her friends arguing like this usually made Dinky feel all funny-happy inside, but right now, it was doing nothing of the sort. Inside, she felt more of a determination. It wasn't the kind that convinced her to do things, though; it was more like knowing that something was going to happen and not being able to stop it. The image of her inside a giant spider's web, struggling and unable to free herself, had glued itself into her mind.

"Cummon," Pipsqueak said, tapping her rear left, "there's still recess left. Let's go play Sail Ship!" He dashed off for the low-hanging trees near the edge of the playground.

"I get to be the first mate!" Tootsie called, following behind him.

Dinky let out another small sigh, hopped off her swing, and trotted off to play Sail Ship with her friends.

That night, Dinky couldn't sleep. The edges of the shadows on her walls seemed to move, as though small, dark things traipsed just along the boundary between dark and deep dark, scuttling back as they trespassed into the lighter patches. A tree limb scraped against the window; creeping tension tugged at her withers. Pulling the covers over her head didn't help; she could only imagine what the horrors lurking in her room would be up to while she couldn't keep an eye on them.

Pipsqueak's callously pronounced vision played over and over in her head. With each iteration, the sequence took place in a slight different location -- the park, her room, at school -- but always ended the same: Dinky, wrapped tightly in sticky silken threads, screaming for her mother while an endless cloud of spiders roamed down the cocoon towards her.

Crrrrk... Crkkk...

That prickly creeping sensation returned. Hundreds of tiny legs pressed against her body like needles, poking at her flanks and fetlocks. She lifted the cover to find nothing there that shouldn't be, but the sensation continued. Rolling over, she saw only the dent left in her mattress, yet still the pinpricks continued. Every strand of hair tingled as though it were being pulled upward.

Suddenly, Dinky realized she was lifting off the mattress.

"Mommy!"

Glistening silk already covered her ceiling, the same gossamer threads that took her from her bed. She screamed and flailed, but every movement only drew more down, wrapping tighter and tighter around her. Everywhere on her body, she could feel them moving, tickling, spinning their nasty webs. She couldn't see them, but she could hear them: tiny voices filling the air with chanting.

Yummy, tasty fillies, fillies filled with jam...

Her next scream was muffled by a thick wrapping of spider webs across her mouth. Something grabbed her horn and tugged her head backward so that she stared straight up at the ceiling.

In the center of the massive web lay a massive spider, easily twice her size. Its legs stretched to the horizon, each armored and segmented and sprouting hairs that extended up to the clouds, then looped back down to wrap over her. Its hundred red eyes glowed with hunger. A glistening mouth was filled with long, sharp fangs the size of her foreleg, which parted, dripping saliva as she drew closer and closer to it. She could feel fetid breath hot enough to singe the fur on her muzzle as a deep laughter echoed from within it.

She knew it was going to speak, and that when it did, the words it spoke would be the worst thing she would ever hear in her life. Dinky struggled, tried to scream, tried to turn her head or close her eyes, but she couldn't.

Don't say the words! she pleaded silently. Don't say them, you can't!

"I'm..."

The word burned like fire through her veins. Her mind went swimmy and the room turned sideways. Her eyes locked open, as if they too could scream.

"Going to kiss you..."

She turned upside-down, spun around, the room and the spider and the webs becoming a blur of motion.

"MOMMY!"

"Good morn--Ouch!"

Something hard hit Dinky in the forehead and she fell back onto her bed. Looking up, she saw her mommy standing over her, holding a hoof to her eye. The memory of the giant monster faded away into sunshine and semi-familiar shapes.

"Dinky, sweetie," mommy said softly, "mommy only has one good eye, let's be careful."

"I'm sorry, mommy," Dinky replied, flexing her hooves as she clutched at the bedcover. "I had a nightmare."

Saying the words, forcing the images back into the fantasy of the dream world, made the shapes of light snap into focus. She was in her room. It had just been a dream. She was safe. Intending to let out a sigh of relief, she instead broke down into sobs, leaning against her mommy.

"Oh Dinky, my muffin," her mommy said, wrapping her hoof around her, "that must have been some awful dream."

"I-i-it was," Dinky moaned.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

With a sniff, Dinky shook her head. Giving the tears a few moments to subside, she asked, "Did I hurt you, mommy?"

Dinky's mommy paused a moment, then she laughed. "I guess not, since I forgot all about it!"

Looking up, Dinky gasped. "Mommy, your eye's all red! I'm so sorry!"

With a sound of surprise, Dinky's mommy lifted up and flew into the bathroom. Dinky heard a soft groan a moment later and got out of bed to go see.

"Don't worry, baby," mommy said, seeing her in the mirror as she entered the bathroom, "it doesn't hurt, so I think it will be okay."

"I'm sorry, mommy," Dinky said, ears and tail drooping.

"Shh, now." Dinky's mommy wrapped her in a hug. "I'm sure it will be fine soon. I'll just go see the nice doctor today while I'm out."

Dinky took a step back. "Out?"

Dinky's mommy smiled. "It's Saturday, sweetie. Mommy and Aunt Carrot Top are going to the market for shopping. Do you want to come?"

"No."

"Well, it's up to you, then. We'll be leaving once Aunt Carrot Top is ready; why don't you get some breakfast, okay?" Dinky's mommy shooed her out of the bathroom, smiling.

Over a bowl of Honey Crunchy Sugar Oats and milk, Dinky watched mommy and Aunt Carrot Top gather their saddlebags and make for the door.

"Are you sure you don't want to come, muffin?"

"No, mommy," Dinky said through a mouthful of cereal. "Have a good time!"

"Okay. I love you, buh-bye!"

"You're going to get that looked at, right?" Aunt Carrot Top said as they left through the door.

"Of course!"

"All right, but just don't forget--"

The door closed. Slowly, Dinky realized that all the worrying over mommy's eye had made her forget her own problems. She wasn't so sure she wanted to be alone right now, but it was too late because she had already said she didn't want to go shopping. Sighing, she finished her cereal and went to the living room to find a book to read. Even though she faced loneliness, she really didn't feel like going outside.

It was some time later that she felt a presence, like she was being watched. Inhaling sharply, she swiveled her head about, startled by movement on the wall.

Without realizing it, she was backpedaling off the sofa, eyes filled with the horrible image of what lay before her.

"Mommy!"

The cry was reflexive, but mommy still hadn't come back. There was nopony around, nopony who could help her.

Dinky was alone with a spider.

Her first instinct was to flee, but where to? Anywhere in the house, it could get to. And if she went outside...

"He told you about me," she whispered, "the one mommy saved. Didn't he?"

The spider responded by dashing around the corner, over the door jamb that led into her room.

Cold fear flooded Dinky's chest. She stood ramrod straight. That monster was invading her room!

She thought about playing Sail Ship, and Tootsie Flute's exhortation that pirates were supposed to be fearless. She remember Pip saying that he was only afraid of 'ooky', long-legged spiders.

Her brows knit. A monster had just invaded her room, boarded her ship, threatened the safety of her and her mommy. Mommy wasn't around, and that meant it was up to First Mate Dinky to secure the house against the intruder. It didn't mean she wasn't scared, but sometimes a pirate had to do what a pirate had to do.

With a little stomp of her hoof, she marched up to her bedroom door, then stopped. A quick gallop to the closet later and she returned with a broom held in her mouth. It wouldn't do to go into a dangerous situation unarmed, after all.

Snorting, she crept little by little through the doorframe, eyes glued to the wall beside her. The house was loudly silent. One step, then another, then another...

Something on her bed moved and she jumped, her scream mangled by the broom handle in her mouth. She reacted quickly, slapping it onto the bed, heedless of her aim. Horrified, she watched the tiny brown blob lift off the springy mattress and sail through the air to land on the floor behind her. It impacted heavily, without a sound, and wiggled for a long moment before flipping over.

Dinky tried to attack with the broom again, but the sight of the spider righting itself drew all the breath from her and she dropped her weapon. The creature began to stalk slowly to the left, as though dazed. Her eyes tracked it helplessly as it ascended the broom handle and then began to skitter down its length, straight toward her.

The spider filled her vision. Eight legs gyrated one over the other, propelling it in slow, unreal motions up the length of the wooden shaft. It tilted left, then back to the right, never losing its grip, gaining speed, its eyes shining with hatred. Dinky could sense it with every fiber of her being, could feel the malevolence press her back against the wall. Fear squeezed her throat shut.

"Mommy..."

The spider paused at the edge of the bristles.

"Mommy..."

It crept down them, picking its way carefully through the spines and never once wavering from its path towards her.

"Mommy!"

Mommy can't help you, Dinky.

She became at once a blur of light and motion. Stomp! Stomp! Stomp! A distant roaring sounded in her ears, and it seemed like ages of hard toil before she recognized it as her own voice.

"Die! Die! Die! Die!"

There was a crack and Dinky fell to her haunches. Through tears, she saw the head of the broom had snapped off. A pile of straw bristles lay in a semicircle at its base. In the center of these was a brown smear. Seven little tufts emerged haphazardly from it, an eighth sticking straight up into the air, the merest pathetic fraction of an inch. It twitched, and her hoof came down over it once more.

Slam!

When her hoof lifted, the eighth tuft was gone. Dinky collapsed onto the floor, looking at the mess stuck to the bottom of her hoof.

Words caught in her throat. She lay there, crying, until her mommy came in and swept her up in a big hug.

"Dinky, honey, what's wrong, are you hurt? What's the matter? Please tell me what's wrong!"

Dinky hiccupped. Her mommy's frantic voice calmed her just a bit, and she threw her hooves around her mommy's neck.

"I broke your broom," was all she could say.

Mommy set her gently on the bed and Aunt Carrot Top picked up the broom pieces, carrying them out.

"It's okay, sweetheart," mommy said, wiping at Dinky's eyes. "We can get another broom."

"A-a-and I..." Dinky hiccupped again. She looked at her mommy, her left eye covered by a large gauze patch. "I killed a spider."

The admission of her guilt brought forth new tears from a reserve she had thought emptied. Mommy cooed and brushed her mane gently back.

"Oh, sweetie. Oh my little Dinky, I'm sorry."

"No! I'm sorry!" She buried her face in her hooves. "I didn't mean to, it was an accident! It was just... It was gonna get me."

'"Is she okay?" Aunt Carrot Top asked from the doorway.

Mommy nodded. "I think what muffin needs to do is have a little funeral so she can say proper sorry, and then make a new friend."

Dinky's muzzle scrunched up as she tapped on the glass. The creature inside remained placid.

"I'm sorry for killing your friend, Mister Stinkyhead," she grumbled. "But that doesn't mean we're friends."

The rosy tarantula said nothing. It extended a leg and then, as if reconsidering, retracted it, resuming its previous position of being vaguely ball-shaped.

From beneath her bed, Boopsie clutched tightly to her, Dinky huffed and glared at the terrarium. This wasn't the best arrangement, but maybe, just maybe if that big spider stayed inside its little home, she could accept it being here.

In Silence

I really shouldn't have been peering under the door like that, since I really really didn't want Rarity to know that I was, but I couldn't help it. Since she'd sent me into this bedroom, nothing had happened, my towel was itchy, and I was feeling that sludgy mixture of anxiety and curiosity in my stomach that came from waiting for things I had no experience with. So when I'd heard her talking with a man, I just had to do something.

Was it Big Macintosh? The deep tones coming from the hallway suggested that it was, though I couldn't be sure. Looking at his bare feet, freckled near the ankle, didn't really help identify him either.

Would he be my first? I shivered. They called him "Big" for a reason, after all. It would probably hurt. Rarity wouldn't put me up to something like that, would she?

I could see her feet too: bare like his, impeccably pedicured, nails painted the same color as her hair, lithe ankles pale and perfect. Her voice carried through the door suddenly, rising in that not-quite-irritating pitch that comes with excitement, and usually the word "idea".

"Oh there she is! Would you be a dear and direct her this way? Thank you ever so much!"

I stood and backed up. My intended was going to be a woman? I'd never been with a woman before. I'd never been with a man before either, but I'd at least "fooled around", as they say. I mean, I'd never even considered being with a woman, despite most of my friends swinging that way. It just hadn't come up.

The doorknob turned and hot panic flooded my chest. What should I do? Go lie down and pose sexily on the bed? Lean against the sofa behind me? Seductive pout? Show a little leg?

I ended up just leaning on the wall, doing my best not to look too frightened out of my mind as Rarity walked in with another woman.

"And here we are!"

When I said Rarity was pale, I meant it in the sense of perfection, like virgin snow. The color and clarity of Rarity's skin was a testament to her preening habits, to a quest for aesthetic perfection that began with herself. The woman who entered the room with her was also pale, but on her, the color looked anything but healthy. She could almost be described as sallow. Her thinness suggested malnutrition, not a rigorous exercise routine. Which was not to say she was unattractive -- her chest looked to be about the same size as mine, and her fine cheekbones were the one place where her gaunt physiognomy helped rather than hindered her appearance -- I was just...

Shocked.

Also her hair looked like my brother's and she was wearing sunglasses in a dimly lit room.

"Twilight," Rarity began, "I'd like you to meet a dear friend of mine: Vinyl Scratch. I thought you two might get on."

Vinyl Scratch smiled at me. That I couldn't see her eyes unnerved me slightly, but I tried to keep Rarity's words from earlier in mind.

"If you're certain you're up for this, Twilight, my intimate soirees are the perfect places to meet new friends. And even if you don't, you can still have a little fun with a stranger and you won't have to worry about waking up next to them in the morning and things being awkward."

Putting on a smile, I stepped forward and held out my hand. "Hi, I'm Twilight Sparkle." A number of things happened.

Vinyl Scratch cocked her head towards Rarity, who made a little gesture with her hands that didn't mean anything to me. At the same time, I heard her sigh; I'm pretty sure she said something like, "Twilight, you really are a virgin." From this, I deduced that things had just gotten awkward. Lastly, I realized that I'd been holding my towel up with one hand, since I don't have enough cleavage to tuck it in like Rarity could, and that that hand was now extended, awkwardly, in the air between myself and Vinyl Scratch.

I turned beet red. My hand fell, unshaken, to my side. Vinyl smirked at me and made a honking noise I thought was a laugh. She made a show of looking me over, and so help me, I couldn't not sheepishly cover myself with my hands.

"Twilight, Twilight." Rarity clucked her tongue. "I suppose I should have expected something like this." She moved past me, gathering up the towel with one deft motion. "You're not supposed to... Look, Twilight, I know you're new at this, and I appreciate that this might be somewhat intimidating for you, but just relax, please. All you two need to do is come to an agreement and let your body guide you."

That was not exactly helpful. Vinyl Scratch stepped forward, taking my hand and gently lifting it from my chest. She smiled, looking me over again, and made another swift series of hand motions.

"Go ahead," Rarity said.

"Go ahead what?"

Rarity's eye rolling was audible. "Go ahead and take it off of her, silly."

I suddenly realized that I was about to have intimate relations with this woman in front of one of my best friends. Heat crept back into my face.

"Sh-shouldn't you be going off to see your, umm, match, Rarity?"

"What? Oh, of course not, silly, I'm staying here!"

I turned around, or tried to, as Vinyl grabbed both of my hands and pulled me back to face her. She smiled and planted a small kiss on the end of my nose.

"What? Why?"

"Well, it's obvious you require a chaperone." Rarity sighed again. "And Vinyl needs an interpreter. That's my primary purpose for being here."

"Inter..."

It clicked. The hand motions weren't just random motions, they were sign language. Vinyl Scratch was deaf!

All that heat suddenly shut off, transferring along the thermal scale to become a lump of ice in the pit of my stomach. No, this didn't seem right. I couldn't... Would that make things really difficult? Especially with Rarity watching our every move?

"Is... she okay with this?" I asked, craning my neck around to look at Rarity.

"Talk to her," Rarity said, frowning. "Just pretend I'm not here, Twilight. Well go on; she lip reads rather well."

Shamed, I turned back to my impromptu partner. "Are... you okay with this?"

She gave me a look that read, "Well, duh."

"What should I do?"

Despite the glasses, I could tell Vinyl was rolling her eyes. She released me, took a step back, and undid the knot in her towel. I really had no idea how she kept it secure, and the method eluded me as the knot evaporated and left her bare.

The thinness of her limbs really didn't translate to the rest of her body. Her skin was still pale, yes, with that linger sallow undertone, but she really didn't come off as underfed, like I'd initially thought. The shape of her body was honestly similar to mine, notwithstanding the inch of height she had over me. She stepped toward me, still grinning, her breasts bouncing slightly. I saw her nipples stiffen, and I had to admit, my own were undergoing the same process. Maybe I was ready for this.

She encircled my waist with both hands and pressed against me. That coldness inside me dissipated as she kissed me gently on the lips. I could feel the warmth of her body suffusing me, the strands of electric blue hair brushing against my forehead. I closed my eyes and kissed her back, reaching up to grasp her shoulders lightly.

I waited for our lips to part, then asked softly, "What should we do?"

Her fingers traced odd shapes over my back, and I realized she was signing at Rarity. The remembrance of my friend watching my nudity, my closeness with this other woman, brought my cheeks back to a flush. This was going to be horribly awkward, wasn't it?

"Get to know each other," Rarity said. I closed my eyes, breathing in through my nose, and told myself that that was Vinyl Scratch's voice, not Rarity's.

"Don't be afraid, Twilight," Vinyl whispered through Rarity.

My eyes opened. I looked up at Vinyl, drew my hands up around her neck, and kissed her again. Her hands trailed over my back and down my sides. Her breasts pressed against mine, pushing them down just a bit, and she rubbed her hips against me, pushing me back against the sofa. I tasted her mouth, soft and minty, and explored the curves of her scapulae with my fingertips. One of her hands roamed over my ass, then lifted my thigh, wrapping my leg around her. I responded by brushing my fingers across her breasts and then, letting go of fear, grasping them firmly.

I felt like I'd been swimming for days and just now spotted land.

The upper surface of her thigh rubbed between my legs and I moaned. Actually, it was more of a moaning, choking, startled gasp into her mouth, which made me feel silly and disoriented. I was wet; she was sexy. I couldn't deny it any more: I wanted this.

Her head dipped down to my sternum, pressing kisses along my left clavicle. She was obviously moving downward, and I took my hands off her to grip at the sofa instead. The support was a good idea, because she started sucking on my right nipple and oh my Celestia, that felt good. Her hands went from gripping my back to my hips, and one pressed against my mons. She ruffled my pubic hair, which seemed kind of a weird thing to do, but then she pressed her finger against my labia. If there had been, at that moment, any doubt in my mind about my first time with a woman, her touch erased it.

I came.

I'm slightly embarrassed to admit it required so little on her part, but... Well, no one had ever touched me that way before. I hadn't even touched me that way before!

I threw my head back and shouted and my body kind of vibrated. Vinyl snorted loudly and looked up at me, bewilderment and amusement mingling on her face.

"Goodness," Rarity said quietly behind me. Vinyl looked over and signed something to her; she laughed.

"I think you two should move to the bed before one of you falls over, Twilight," Rarity said.

I most definitely did not want to move, and then found that it was not easy to do so, since my legs were apparently made of jelly. Vinyl half-dragged me across the floor and I collapsed at her feet as she sat on the edge of the bed.

Then I figured, since I was in the right position, why not return the favor? No fear and all that. I put my hands on her knees and smiled up at her; she got the hint quickly, leaning back on her elbows. Before I knew it, I was nose-deep in vagina.

This was, I mused, not the strangest thing I had ever done, and yet perhaps not the sort of experience I should have just dived into. The scent was overwhelming; the taste not entirely pleasant. But Vinyl's hips were shivering as I licked at her labia and clitoris, and I realized that above all else, I wanted this woman to feel what I had just felt. It just looked like it was going to take a little more work.

I shook my head, letting my hair spread out over her thighs and belly. It seemed like the added stimulation was doing the trick. Her hips lifted and I curled my arms underneath her, keeping her vulva up where I could access it without having to lean over so far. I dug in, so to speak, and watched her grip the sheets. Hey, for a virgin, I wasn't doing too bad at this!

Then she made the loudest, most horrible noise I have ever heard come from human vocal chords.

I understood that she couldn't hear what she was doing. I understood that, if she'd been born deaf or lost her hearing at a young age, she probably didn't know how to talk at all. That didn't stop me from feeling horrendously awkward. Not to mention I was so surprised that I lost my grip on her waist and her rear half flopped onto the bed. She slapped the mattress a few times, biting her lip, and I looked to Rarity, at a loss for what to do.

Her hand was between her legs.

I nearly fell onto the bed. One of my best friends was actually getting off while watching me have sex with someone else? It was more than stunning, it was... Impossible? Did I not consider my friends as sexual objects, or partners, or... whatever? I mean, it's not like I didn't know that Pinkie had slept with most of them, or that Rarity threw these sex parties every now and then, but until that moment, the subject of my friends' sexuality, of their sexual being, had just never crossed my mind.

I really was a virgin. I guess there was nothing saying Rarity couldn't enjoy herself at her own parties. I mean, if she had to be my chaperone, she ought to get something out of it, right?

Rarity noticed me staring at her. She cleared her throat, pushed a stray lock of hair back into place, and said, "Twilight dear, I shouldn't have to tell you this, but your partner is currently being neglected. I do believe she just said that if you don't turn around and start eating her out right now, she will introduce your rear end to the back of her hand."

I probably squeaked as I turned around and penetrated Vinyl with my index finger. I made a quick vector calculation and curved it upward just slightly. The gasp and groan she emitted signaled that I had succeeded in finding her G-spot. It didn't take much in the way of rubbing for her to let out a series of three more loud honking sounds, interspliced with sharp inhalations.

With a soft moan, she smiled and reached out her arms to me. Guessing at her intentions, I climbed atop her and laid down. She smoothed my hair back, smiled, and kissed me. Then she signed something.

"I already told you, you need to focus on me and not her. Now come on, let's try this one more time, huh?"

"W-what do you mean?" I asked, and actually did not look at Rarity this time.

"You're cute, so I'll give you another chance. Show me what you can do."

She pulled back a bit, and I let her move, scooting across the bed. She gestured for me to lie down, then shook her head, motioning for me to turn around. Suddenly, I got the idea. Once again, I hadn't thought about something related to sex. I promised myself I would find every book on the subject that I could once I got home.

But for now, I underwent the slightly confusing process of overlapping legs and then scooting together until our pelvises touched. The initial bump sent a shockwave up pleasure up my body, and soon we were grinding and gyrating against each other. The act wasn't as penetrative as I normally preferred, but every motion produced immediate, gratifying pleasure in both of us.

I tuned out the sounds she made and soon realized that Rarity was once again enjoying herself across the room on the sofa. The thought now made me feel... good. I liked enjoying things with my friends, after all; why not this? I didn't look at her, focusing instead on Vinyl as she'd asked me to, but hearing Rarity's moans of pleasure mixing with Vinyl's and my own, I felt like we were all connected, sharing the joy of this moment together.

Vinyl Scratch had two orgasms in a row; I had three and then I couldn't take it anymore. I collapsed back onto the bed and couldn't move beyond moaning happily. She dragged herself over and laid down partially on top of me. I gave her a big hug and mouthed, "You're amazing" at her. Because really, she was. I had had things all wrong from the start, but I was so very glad I'd gone through with all of this. I couldn't think of anyone better to lose my virginity -- well, my lesbian virginity -- to. She grinned, gave me a long kiss, and then stretched, kneeling on the bed. I watched her breasts sway as she snapped her fingers, getting Rarity's attention.

"Oh my!" Rarity suddenly appeared from the sofa, hair a total mess. I thought I could see something wet on her fingertips, but she licked them clean with barely a thought. "Did you have a good time?" She asked it vocally and in signs simultaneously.

I nodded. Vinyl did as well, then clambered off the bed. She walked over to Rarity, took her hand, gave a little bow and kissed it. Then she slid a foot under one of the towels on the floor, kicked it up, and wrapped it around herself. Pausing to wave at me, she strode with stiff-legged jauntiness out the door, leaving me feeling slightly bemused.

"Well, Twilight, what did you think?" Rarity was absent-mindedly fixing her hair as she walked over to the bed. Her towel, I noticed then, was hanging off her shoulders, giving me a view of her impressive bust that I knew one little green-haired boy would have killed to see. Her stomach was trim, her labia wet, and her, uh, "landscaping"...

It was shaped like a heart.

I coughed, suddenly feeling embarrassed once again. She was still my friend, after all. The towel wrapped back around her as I tried very hard to look at the ceiling and remember what she'd just asked me.

"I had a good time," I said softly. "Did you know I'd never been with a woman before?"

"Mm-hmm. I thought it would be a bit easier on you for your first time at one of my parties."

I smiled at her. "Thanks, Rarity."

"Why, it's my pleasure, dear. Just remember that, next time..."

My eyebrows perked. "You mean I can do this again?" Suddenly I was on my knees, grabbing her hand and pumping it. "Thank you, thank you! I promise it won't be awkward at all next time! I'll read every book about sexual intercourse I can find!"

Her face contorted in a look that read "Twilight just said something silly again" and laughed. "I'm sure you will, dear. I'll trust you to come prepared, then?"

"Of course." I grinned. "What are friends for?"

I stood, moving over to grab my towel. As I did so, Rarity slapped me on the butt. The actuality of it was more shocking than the pain. My back straightened and I let out an, "Eep!"

"What are friends for indeed?" she said, chuckling. "See you next time, Twilight."

She left the room then, shutting the door behind herself, and leaving me to wonder just what it was she'd meant by that.

After-School Special

I love that look of discovery on my students’ faces, when something’s really sunk in, and I know everything’s changed for her, forever. I love it.

After gazing at the stick-figure watercolours hung up on the bulletin board to dry, I lean my broom back in the corner. All my pencils are neatly in their cup. All the desks are straight in their rows. Before I even started tidying up, I’d closed the shutters on the schoolhouse windows, and the low sun is making blinding little beads of light through the slats now.

I walk over to the blackboard, grab the pair of erasers, and clap them together hard. I turn away, but it never fails – I can feel that familiar tingle in my nose again. My little high-pitched sneeze rings out in the room’s stillness. Sure, I could avoid that if I wanted to, but… I guess it’s my little ritual – I like the smell of chalk.

For a minute, I gaze out the door – the one window left unblocked – then take my seat behind my desk and start on the pile of quizzes that need to be graded. Almost there. Maybe I’ll get dinner at a decent hour tonight.

I don’t know how much time has passed. The sun’s sunk enough that it’s behind the trees now, so I jump a bit when I hear a knock at the door. At this angle, I can’t see who it is. ‘Yes? Come in!’

The knob turns slowly, then the door swings in, creaking on its old hinges. Whoever it is stands in the doorway and breathes as if to say something. I can hear hooves shuffling on the doorstep. A scared student? A concerned parent? ‘Yes?’ I repeat.

Finally, an earth pony stallion enters and shuts the door quietly behind him. ‘H-hi, Miss Cheerilee,’ he says, rubbing a hoof down his neck as he stares at the floor. Something looks familiar about him.

‘Can I help you?’ Definitely not a student. But he doesn’t look old enough to be a parent, either. Maybe he’s here for…

‘I was a student of yours several years back. Ledger. Ledger deMane.’ At least he’s looking up a bit now, but he still won’t meet my eyes.

‘Ah, yes. I remember you. Quite the number cruncher, as I recall.’ A bit of small talk never hurts. He’s nervous enough as it is.

‘Yeah.’ A blush overtakes his cheeks as he giggles. ‘I just graduated from accounting school, and I’m going off to work for my uncle’s brokerage in Manehatten. I leave in two days.’

‘I see.’ I keep quiet, letting him work through what he has to say. I can practically see his heart thumping in his chest, and is that a bit of sweat on his forehead? Oh, I’m being awful to him now! My smile is about as far up as he’s willing to look, but it’s had the desired effect – his shoulders relax. ‘What brings you here?’

‘Well, I’ve never really had a fillyfriend’ – pity, he’s not bad-looking – ‘and some of the guys told me…’ He gulps.

‘And they put you up to this?’ I raise an eyebrow and watch him stammer. One more test to grade.

‘N-no,’ he finally spits out. ‘I just wanted to make sure I knew… the right way… to treat…’

I tap a hoof on his nose. ‘Right answer.’ Looking back at his goofy grin, I step back to my desk and flop into the chair. ‘Over here,’ I say, beckoning to him to follow. While I hear those few tentative hoofbeats approach on the worn floorboards, I lean down and rummage through my bottom desk drawer. ‘I know they’re in here somewhere – aha!’ I pull out a pair of rolled-up thigh-high stockings and slide each one on slowly. As his breath catches in his throat, he gulps even harder than before.

I get back up, shove the stack of papers out of the way, slide in between Ledger and the desk, then ease myself back onto its smooth surface. ‘Alright, then. Let’s see what you’ve got.’ For a minute, he just stares down between my legs and doesn’t say anything. ‘What? It’s not like you’ve never seen one before. All us mares walk around naked, after all.’

‘Yeah, but not like…’ He nods quickly, sucks in a breath, and runs his tongue over my snatch. Then a second time. Mmmm. I let my head drop to the desktop and close my eyes lightly. A few more licks, and I can feel that warm sensation spreading up and through my body. Gotta keep my mind focused. He’s a first-timer, after all. It’s not like anything spectacular is going to happen.

I let a low moan escape my mouth and sway my hips a bit. He responds by flicking his tongue faster and pressing his muzzle in harder. Good instincts, Ledger. Follow my lead.

Little by little, a wet trickle is running down over my bum and onto the desk, and I hear him slurping. I can’t help but smile. After all, it’s kind of a source of pride. I can never be sure what anypony might like – what one finds appetising, another might find disgusting – so I regulate my diet carefully to keep the taste neutr—

Nnnnnnnggggg! Ahhh. He’s found the right spot, and my back arches almost on its own. No way he misses that signal. No, he finds my clit again immediately and works his lips over it as I reach down with my forelegs, run them through his mane, and pull his face against me harder. His hot breath spilling from his nostrils, he slips his tongue inside and wriggles it around while the mix of spit and juice runs down his chin. I squeeze my eyes shut harder, sway my hips around faster, but then… he’s stopped. I open my eyes, and he’s finally looking me in the face.

Through his heavy panting, his eyes are screaming the question he can’t ask as he fiddles with his cock. I nod.

He’s on me in an instant, lurching forward and putting his forehooves on the desk. He drives forward a few times, but finally notices my raised eyebrow and half-smile. Try again, Ledger. Things don’t generally line up on their own.

Reaching a hoof down, he guides his cock in, slowly at first, but once it’s slicked up, he buries his full length. I take his hips in my forehooves. ‘Alright, what I want you to do now is—’

He starts pounding relentlessly.

‘Ledger. Ledger, stop,’ I say quietly but firmly, leveling my stare at him. Too late. I can feel him pulsing inside me. Just four thrusts in, and he’s already shot his load.

When he finally manages to stop his shuddering breath, close his mouth, and open his eyes, his gaze jerks down to meet mine, his cheeks bright red and his brow creased. ‘I-I’m… sorry…’

I close my eyes and take a steadying breath. Time to regroup.

‘Shh,’ I say, putting a hoof over his lips as his ears droop. He tries to back away, but I wrap my hind legs around him and draw him back to me. ‘It’s okay. This is your lesson. Stay in. We’ll give it another try in a minute.’ He squints a bit. That’s alright. He’ll understand soon enough. I pull him down onto me and feel his heart thudding against my chest, his cheek against mine.

‘You’re doing fine,’ I whisper into his ear. ‘Give it time.’ My breath must be tickling his ear – it flicks once or twice as I’m speaking. I take it in my mouth and nibble along its soft edge. We stay coupled like that for a good ten or fifteen minutes before I hear his breathing pick back up a little.

Up for round two? I run a hoof up and down his spine, and soon feel him stiffening and swelling inside me again. Yeah. He sure is.

As he draws back and props up on his forehooves, I relax my hind legs to let him. But I keep a hoof against his cheek. ‘Slow.’ He purses his lips and nods.

Back and forth, side to side, I roll my hips at a nice, easy pace as he moves with me, always slow, always controlled. A couple of times, he pulls back too far and pops out, but that’s okay – just something else he needs to learn. Each time, back in, and back at it.

Nice and slow. Mmmm.

I let myself sink into the desktop and breathe along with the rhythm. Once in a while, I catch him trying to speed up, but I apply a little gentle pressure to his shoulder, and he eases up again. He’s got the hang of it. A nice, steady rhythm. Steady. I could close my eyes and forget about the room around me. I’m not bored, just… enjoying myself. Yeah. This is about him, not—

Oooooooh. Mmmmm, he’s found a nipple and is flicking his hoof over it. There’s an – nnnnngg – electric warmth radiating, all over my body, and I let myself writhe around a little faster. Good, Ledger. Mmmm. Still, every few breaths I exhale, I hiss ‘slow’ at him, and he’s listening. He’s got his eyes clenched shut and his mouth hanging open, but each time I say it, I take a peek, and he nods.

It’s dark out now, and I’m definitely going to have a late dinner. Celestia, why am I thinking about that?

I raise my head a bit and look down at his cock sliding in and out… Mmmm. That tingle is back. Just gotta keep my head on straight. Just…

His legs are starting to shake. He’s not going to last much longer. Oh, well. No luck for me. But that’s okay.

Whimpering, he swallows against the dryness in his mouth and looks down at me, his eyes searching for something. Almost there. I nod back.

Ledger keeps the same pace, but shoves forward harder each time now. Harder… harder. His legs are shuddering, his mouth hanging open again, and I grab the edge of the desk to keep myself from sliding back, moaning louder and louder, then finally… he cries out, and I can smell that sharp scent again. He gasps for air, then staggers back a few steps and struggles to stay on his hooves.

A goofy grin on his face, he stands there trembling for a minute until I roll off the desk and walk up to him. ‘You’re going to make somepony a good lover,’ I say, nuzzling his neck. ‘Maybe you should go on home to dinner, though. It’s getting late.’

‘Y-yes’m,’ he stammers, stumbling toward the door. ‘Th-thank you for…’

I love that look of discovery on my student’s face, when something’s really sunk in, and I know everything’s changed for him, forever. I love it.

For a moment, he can’t decide what to do, so I give him a warm smile and hold the door open for him. I hate to seem like I’m rushing him on his way, but there’s really nothing left to do or say.

Back to work. I wipe up the floor, my desk, and myself, then fall back into my chair and take off the stockings, draping them over the open drawer’s edge. Sighing, I slide the next paper off the stack and find my red pencil.

Right, right, wrong, right, right, right, wrong…

Next paper. Next.

How long have I been at this? The stack’s pretty short now, and I might still get some time to read after dinner, before I go to bed.

There’s another knock at the door. I rise to answer it, but Applejack’s already poked her head in.

‘Oh! You are still here. I thought somepony mighta left the light on.’ She nods and tips her hat.

‘No, just working late. Can I help you with something?’ I smile at her. Probably too big. Can she tell? Get a hold of yourself, Cheerilee. She’s just a concerned parent or… Well, yeah, parent. Same thing. But it’s Applejack.

‘Well,’ she says, stepping in and closing the door behind her. ‘Y’see, it’s just… It’s been so long since – I hate to admit that, but I was wonderin’ if you could…’ With a forced smile, she takes off her hat and holds it to her chest.

Twice in one day? I don’t know, but… it’s Applejack.

My smile turns weak as she walks over to my desk. Can she see my eyes wandering? I feel like a foal on Hearth’s Warming Day.

I walk around her, fighting to keep my voice steady. ‘Let’s see what we have, then,’ I say, constructing a playful smirk. Her tail is clamped down hard. I scoop under it with my nose, but she snaps it back down again.

‘Uh… Ain’t you gettin’ a bit personal there?’ she asks, her eyes shooting wide open.

‘Relax. I know what I’m doing.’ I lift her tail again to have a look, and… she’s already hanging wide open. Poor thing came over here already worked up. There’s a trickle of moisture most of the way down her leg, and I give it a sniff.

Apples. Figures. Like I said, I keep my own taste neutral as best I can, so nopony can say they don’t like it. But I love apples.

I start my tongue down where the drip is near her knee and work my way higher, until I’m licking up what sweet, tart juice has already gathered on her glistening lips. Her hat drops to the floor.

‘Nnnnnnh!’ she says as I flick the tip of my tongue over her clit. She braces herself against my desk when I shove my muzzle against her, and she’s not fighting me with her tail anymore. I plunge my tongue in, scooping out all the apple taste I can. In and out, faster, faster… Reaching up to her belly, I search out a nipple and stroke a hoof along it, making her gasp. Seconds later, she arches her back, lets out a long moan, and a muscle spasm is squeezing my tongue.

Already? Wow, I… Well, there’s a warm, wet patch growing between my own legs as well. I mean – it’s Applejack.

She clenches her muscles and shudders two or three more times – I’ve lost count, and I really don’t know how long it’s been, either. I don’t care. I’m just licking and grinning like an idiot because oh, Celestia it’s her and she keeps groaning and… and I can’t take it anymore. I climb onto the desk, roll on my back, and put my twat right in her face. ‘Let’s see what you can do,’ I say, breathless.

Tentative at first, she prods with the tip of her tongue, but then licks slowly with its full breadth, over and over. I can’t even hold my legs up anymore. They’re just hanging limply off the desk, and everything leaves my mind except that warm breath across my stomach, the lingering flavor of apples in my mouth, and that lapping that’s making – almost there… Nnnnnnngggggg. I catch my breath just in time for… Hnnnnnnn. I sigh loudly and roll my eyes back in my head.

Is this really her first…? No, she only said it’d been a long time. Still… None of these ‘students’ have ever made me come before. Well, to be fair, Applejack’s done that plenty of times when I was alone in the bathtub at home, but… this is the real article!

When my eyes come back into focus, I see that Applejack’s taking a breather. I give myself a good minute for my own panting to subside, then I lean forward and tug her on top of me, her warm coat against me and her heartbeat thudding into my chest. Reaching around her hind leg, I run the edge of a hoof through the smooth moisture. She’s breathing heavily, her mouth hanging open, and I wrap my other hoof around the back of her head, turning her muzzle toward me so I can clean my own juices off it. My tongue runs all around it, catching the edge of her mouth a couple of times. I-I’d love to, b-but I can’t… Those soft lips are so inviting, but I never, ever kiss during one of my lessons.

I kiss her hard.

I kiss her hard, and she slides her tongue into my open mouth. My hoof under her tail is flicking as fast as my fractured concentration can manage, and soon her breath comes in spurts as she moans down my throat. Little by little, I feel her hoof tracing its way down my side toward my nipples, and I grimace, bracing myself for the rough, chipped edge I’d expect of a farmer, but… it’s like silk caressing me. I lose myself in that mare rocking back and forth on me, and soon we’re both trembling at the same time. She pulls her mouth away to squeeze her eyes shut and groan and I echo her and I can feel myself building again – almost there—

But she slides off me and plops down on her haunches, her body spent. After my chest heaves a few more times, I make a snap decision and reach down to finish myself off with my hoof while she watches.

I just lie there for what feels like an hour, our panting filling the room. Our. Us. We. I… I like the sound of that. I…

‘Whoa, nelly!’ she cries, and I can’t help but laugh. It’s Applejack. It’s really her. But…

I knew what this was when it started. This is a one-time thing. An arrangement of need. There’s no reason to think that anything lasting will come of it. My face falls. ‘Thank you kindly, Miss Cheerilee, but as I was sayin’ –’ she takes a moment to catch her breath again ‘– it’s been a long time, and I hate to admit it, but… I don’t remember my algebra so well. Apple Bloom’s gettin’ ahead in math, and I’d like to borrow a textbook for her, if you don’t mind.’

I stare at her as my self-delusion shatters around me. I was almost there…

Thanks to my colour, it’s hard to tell when I’m blushing, but the fact that I’m huddled on the floor against my desk with my face buried in my hooves is probably cluing her in. I don’t even remember how I got down here… ‘I’m sorry, Applejack,’ I gush, my forelegs muffling my words. ‘I’m sorry I’m sorry I didn’t…’

‘Hey! It’s alright! It’s okay! Look, I’d have figured that somepony in your… er… position wouldn’t be self-conscious about this.’ She drops the rest of the way to the floor and tries to meet my gaze, but I’m staring at my hooves.

‘Then why were you…?’ I flick a hoof toward her hindquarters, and she follows it, then breaks into a sheepish grin.

‘Oh. That. Yeah, I’d come – I’d walked here straight from Fluttershy’s…’

And the other shoe drops…

Tears are welling up in my eyes, but I’m not going to cry. I’m not going to cry.

Her mouth jerks into a silent ‘oh’, and the little bit of her face I can see out of the edge of my vision goes pale. She dips her head to where she’s almost looking me in the eye. ‘Sugarcube… this was somethin’ different, wasn’t it?’

How do I even answer that? Just thinking about it is wasting concentration I need to keep from bursting into tears. And now I’m not even going to get dinner tonight. I almost laugh.

‘Look. Fluttershy and I ain’t an item in any sense of the word. Just sometimes we need to…’ Applejack slides her hat over from where it’s lain on the floor the whole time and clutches at it. ‘To be honest’ – how can I not trust her when she says that? – ‘I always considered you out o’ my league. Back when we were in school together, everypony wanted to be like you, and now… Apple Bloom thinks so highly of you.’

I manage a small smile. At least it appears I’ll get out of this with my dignity.

‘And I’d have never expected in a million years that you’d ever give me more’n a second look.’ She rubs a hoof up and down the back of her neck, flashes a lopsided smile, and scoots over next to me. ‘I knew what kinda stuff happens here, and… I went along so I could fool myself into thinkin’ I was somethin’ special, somethin’ more’n just a pony you thought needed a bit o’ help.’

‘Not you, Applejack,’ I say quietly. ‘Never you.’

She swallows hard. ‘I-if you’re game – look at me, bein’ the forward one – I’d like to see where this goes.’ Despite her words’ confidence, she’s fidgeting with her hat and casting her eyes around in every direction but mine. ‘Can I see you sometime? Like, on a date?’

‘You don’t have to do this.’ Isn’t that what I’m supposed to say? I can’t imagine there’s actually etiquette…

‘I know I don’t. But I asked anyhow.’ She raises her eyebrows and pricks her ears forward, a faint curl turning up the corners of her mouth. ‘’Cause it’s what I want.’

I reach a hoof toward her shoulder, and she doesn’t shy away, so I hook it around her neck and give her a small hug. ‘I’d love that, Applejack. I’d love that.’ Maybe I can make sense of what just happened over the next couple of days. But I’d better not waste this gift that fate has dropped on me.

‘How about tonight? I was just about to head home and cook a late dinner.’ She studies my face, then breaks into a smile.

I couldn’t wipe this grin off my face if I tried. She just… amazes me. Always. All I have left to do is prove that I’m worthy of her. Easy, right? But I’m almost there. Almost there.

Fair Winds

“It’s all a bunch of shit, y’know?”

It wasn’t a question. Fair Winds was running his hooves up and down some skinny piece, rubbing her thighs and occasionally slapping her flank, causing that little white lily to jiggle happily. His head was pressed against her chest and occasionally he would pull away to drunkenly shout another half-baked complaint at me.

“All of it. It’s all fucked up, man. This fucking caste system, or whatever you call it, it’s all a goddamn crock ‘a shit.” He pushed the girl away, saying, “Get me another gin and tonic, sweetie,” and he slapped her ass as she walked away. He grinned wolfishly.

I watched her leave, almost feeling sorry for her until I saw her turn around and give him a wink. Bitch.

I took another sip of whiskey, letting it swirl around in my mouth for a bit before swallowing, wondering what kind of sound it would make if I smashed my glass over his head. I decided it would probably be a dull thud followed by the sound of glass shattering.

“Anyway, like I was saying. All of this is just bullshit, man. It’s all a fucking lie perpetuated by the fucking ‘elite’ up in Canterlot. Bunch ‘a fuckin’ high-brow shits. I mean, who says they’re the ones that get to live the life of luxury, huh? Where the fuck’s Fair’s fair share?” He looked at me, waiting for a nod of approval. I didn’t budge. He continued. “I work just as hard as any of those fucks and I’m still down here in the fucking shit, breaking my fucking back all fucking day, a fucking wage-slave to some jackoff asshole who thinks she’s better than me because she’s one of the fucking ‘Elements of Harmony’. Fuck her.”

He went to take a drink from his glass, realizing it was empty he slammed it back down angrily, cracking the glass. “Fuck, man.” He sighed exasperatedly.

I decided, against my better judgement, to entertain him. “Well, a lot of them are born into money. You can’t help that.”

“Fuck that shit, man! That’s fucking bullshit. Just because I was born out here in the fucking sticks doesn’t mean I don’t get to live in Canterlot and fuck all the wealthy mares. Where’s my ticket to the Grand Galloping Gala, eh? When do I get to meet the fucking princess and her fucked up sister, huh?”

“There’s nothing stopping you from going to Canterlot. Go get on a train right now if you want to be there so bad.”

He shrugged. “Money, man. I don’t have the money to just up and leave Ponyville.” He laughed mirthlessly. “Can’t go to Canterlot because I don’t have enough money, but I can’t make enough money working in Ponyville. What a fucking joke...”

“But let’s say you had the money,” I said. “Would you go?”

“You fucking bet I would. I’d give the fucking Princess of the Sun a lesson in shared wealth. That’s how they do it in the Griffon Kingdom, man. Nobody’s ever poor there because they all share money. It’s like a fucking paradise over there, man. Everybody gets to fuck everybody.”

“So, why don’t you go live there, then?”

He huffed. “You know they don’t let ponies into their kingdom, man. Fucking elitist bastards.” He leaned over to look past me towards the bar where the waitress was talking to the bartender. “What the fuck’s taking that bitch so long? It’s fucking gin and tonic.”

“You’re probably not her only customer.”

“Did you see her?” he asked, ignoring me. He licked his lips. “Fucking beautiful isn’t she?”

I bet his tongue wouldn’t be very hard to pull out. Just a little bit of magic and it’d tear off.

“Don’t you have a wife?”

“Tch, fuck that bitch,” he said. “I never get any from her anyway. She stopped putting out after our second kid. Fuck, man, I have to let it out somewhere.”

I didn’t respond.

“Anyway, man, like I was saying earlier, you really need to get out more and—There she is!” His wings fluttered as the waitress came back holding a tray surrounded by light-pink magic in front of her. He licked his lips again. “I was worried you’d forgotten about me, heh.”

Her smile was pretty, I had to admit. Her teeth were so perfect and she showed just the right amount of gum when she opened her mouth. I briefly imagined what she would look like with no teeth. I wonder if she’d scream?

“How could I forget about my favorite customers?” she said, her charming smile complimented by her sweet voice. It was high-pitched, but not too high. A bit like a songbird. Angelic, even.

I saw his eyes move to her flank and he ran his tongue over his upper lip. As she placed the fresh glass down, he said, “Did anyone ever tell you how pretty you are? Like an angel.”

Maybe just a songbird.

She fake blushed, turning away, but he pulled her back and kissed her cheek. “Oh, stop it,” she said playfully. “You know I don’t fool around with customers.” Lying bitch.

He grinned. “Oh, is that so?” Leaning forward, he whispered something in her ear. It was too far away to hear, but I saw her blush, for real this time, and teasingly push him away. “I’ll see you after work, then?” he said. It wasn’t a question.

She didn’t answer, only giving him a sly smile and swatting him lightly with her tail as she went.

After she left, he let out a low whistle, then winked knowingly at me. His wings stuck out stiffly as he grabbed his gin and tonic. Grey feathers poked out like he had just molted for the first time. Probably wouldn’t be too hard to rip them all out. The actual wings would be a little more difficult though.

Smacking his lips, he set the glass down and said, “I need a good fuck, man.” His eyes caught mine and he seemed to remember something. “What were we talking about again?”

“You were telling me that I should get out more,” I said after a moment. I took another sip from my glass.

“Fucking right you do. Man, I don’t know how you can spend all your time working at that fucking shithole. I woulda thought they’d have found some other poor asshole to cart all the dead assholes around.” He leaned forward. “How do you do it, man? You spend all day dealing with these dead fucks, and they pay you fucking shit. I wouldn’t do it. I wouldn’t fucking do it. Not even if you fucking payed me.” He fell back in his chair and let out a sigh. “It’s fucked up, man. Fucked up.”

“It’s a job,” I answered simply. And the answer was simple. It was the same job my father had, and his father before him, and his father before him. Being a mortician’s assistant wasn’t for everyone, but it was for me. I relished every day I spent there, hoping, dreaming, that I might one day become a full-fledged mortician. But my father hadn’t and neither had his father or his father, so why should I? It was nothing more than a dream, a fantasy.

“Yeah, well it’s one fucked up job, man. Seriously, you’ve gotta be fucked in the head or some shit.” He shook his head, just a little further and it might break. “Hey,” he said, suddenly serious. “I’ve been wondering.” He glanced around shiftily. “You ever fuck any of the stiffs?”

I had, one time. I was curious.

“No.”

“Good, that shit’s weird, man. I don’t think I could even keep it up.” He emptied his glass in one swig and said, “C’mon, let’s get the fuck outta this place.”

He stood up and waved for me to follow. We weaved our way through the myriad of tables and bar patrons towards the exit. All I could smell was the sweat, piss, and booze as we went and it nearly gagged me. I covered my snout and moved as quickly as I could without looking like I was in a rush.

As we pushed our way past a final pair of drunken earth ponies, I could smell the fresh air. Throwing the double doors wide, we strode outside into the warm mid-summer air.

It was dark outside, near midnight, and the only light came from the lantern hanging off to the side of the door. The stars burned bright in the night sky, but their light didn’t reach me, nor did the moon’s, for it was full tonight and did not lighten the blackness surrounding us. I faked a shiver, and said, “I think I’ll head home for tonight. I have to be at work early tomorrow.”

Fair Winds didn’t seem to hear me, but he pretended he had anyway. “Oh, uhh, that’s cool, man. Hey, listen, I’m gonna go wait around back for her. She said she’ll be done in about ten minutes.”

I said nothing.

“So, I guess I’ll see you later, then.” I nodded, and he made to turn away but then stopped hesitantly. He pursed his lips, narrowing his eyes, then relaxed. “You know,” he said slowly. “I bet she wouldn’t mind if you came along too. Heh, might be good for you to get some action, man. A stallion needs a good fuck every once in awhile.” His right hoof reached out and nudged my shoulder in what I guessed was his attempt at a friendly gesture. “C’mon, man.”

I shook my head, saying, “No, I’m sorry. I really have to get home.” I made up some excuse about leaving my lights on, and gave a few more false apologies. It didn’t take much to convince him though. He was gone as soon as I had said, “I really can’t.”

As I walked off towards the deepening darkness, I chanced a look over my shoulder and saw that he had already made his way to the other side of the bar. I stopped and waited a moment to make sure he didn’t come back, then doubled back.

Sneaking as quietly as I could around the wall, I turned the corner to see him, back pressed against the wall, standing by the rear exit, kicking at the dirt. I retreated a step so that only my head was poking out. My coat was dark enough that he probably wouldn’t see me, and even if he did I would just fake some bullshit about changing my mind. Tch, perverted son of a bitch.

I didn’t have to wait long. Within a few minutes, I heard the door open and saw him and her share a sloppy kiss before she pushed him away. A few seconds later, they began trotting off into the dark, his hoof wrapped around her shoulder. If he squeezed right now, he could’ve choked her to death quite easily.

Staying a safe distance behind them, I followed as stealthily as I could and not making a single sound. I could hear them though. They were loud, loud enough that I could hear them even as far back as I was. It was the usual shit from him. All about how hard he was going to fuck her, and how she wouldn’t be able to walk straight the next day. Fucking prick. Her too, she just giggled and played along like the subservient bitch she was.

They stopped at a house not far from the bar. Her place, I guessed since I didn’t recognize it. It was small, probably one bed, one bath, maybe just a half-bath. I couldn’t tell from outside.

They stood outside her door, rubbing up against each other and swapping drunken kisses for a minute or so before she finally managed to fish her keys out and open the door. The practically fell into the house as the door opened, stumbling inside still wrapped around each other. There was a loud click as the door slammed shut, but I waited and didn’t hear a second click. Idiots.

I snuck up to the door and pushed it open in time to see another door slam shut as they entered her bedroom. Closing the door as quietly as I could behind me, I tiptoed my way to the bedroom door and pressed my ear against the wood. I could hear them inside, rustling around and then a thud as they both hit the bed.

It wasn’t long before I began to hear her moans of pleasure and his boorish grunts. They went at it for quite some time, nearly fifteen minutes before I finally heard him release a low, long groan, and then he said, “Fuck me, that was fucking amazing.” Then I heard her fake laugh again and he said, “You’re fucking incredible, you know that?”

A smirk crossed my face and I ignited my horn. Opening the door slowly, I saw him and her sprawled out on the bed, him on top and her on bottom. He looked surprised to see me, but I suppose that was to be expected.

His mouth hung open and she looked like she was about to scream, but nothing came out. “What the fuck, man!” he yelled. “Did you fucking follow us here?” I didn’t answer. He flapped his wings like he was going to take off into the sky, but he didn’t get very far.

Blood splattered all across the floor and the bed, and especially her face, still opened in that silent scream. It wasn’t silent for too much longer though. As soon as the blood hit her face, her eyes widened and she let out a high-pitched screech.

As he hit the bed, landing on his one remaining wing, he yelled, “You fucking cocksucking son of a bitch!” I ignored him and instead turned my attention to the wailing mare.

She didn’t even seem to notice me anymore, instead fixating her attention of the severed wing still twitching with life lying next to her, but she never stopped screaming, at least not until she hit the wall. Her head hit the stone wall with a delicious crunch that sent a shiver down my spine. As she fell away I saw that her horn had been cracked in half and the tip of it was rolling towards me. I kicked it away.

I walked up slowly to Fair Winds and placed my fore-hooves softly against his shoulder to stop him from rolling. He looked up at me, upside down and with a fire in his cobalt eyes. He was breathing heavily and had one hoof placed against his bleeding side. “You motherfucker!” he shouted. “What the fuck are you doing!”

I remained silent. He was about to shout again, but as soon as his mouth opened I caught his tongue with my magic and held it in place. He tried to kick at me but I restrained him. Smiling at him, I began to pull slowly against his tongue, feeling the soft tissue tear ever so slightly. Pulling a little harder, I saw his eyes begin to well with tears and he tried to yank his head away. Then, with a wet popping sound his tongue came loose and blood filled his mouth. He started to gag, so I let him roll onto his stomach and spit the blood out.

At least he couldn’t talk now, though I could still hear his pitiful moans. I was about to just finish him off right there, but I decided it would be more fun to do her first, so I gathered her up and brought her over.

Laying her head next to his, I slapped her face to wake her. Her eyes opened slowly and then, as soon as she saw me, she screamed again. I placed my hoof over her mouth and shushed her saying, “If you shut up, I won’t hurt you anymore.” I raised my eyebrow, waiting for a nod of confirmation. “Good,” I said happily.

As I moved my hoof away, she started sobbing, saying in between sharp gasps, “Please... don’t... hurt... me...”

I smiled warmly. “Don’t worry. I won’t.”

Looking over to him, I said, “Are you watching?”

His eyes burned angrily, and I relished the feeling. He tried to speak, but only wet gurgles came out. I laughed. “Watch her,” I said, nodding to her pretty little head.

I placed my hooves on either side of her head and turned slowly. She tried to reach up and push my hooves away but I used my back legs to kick her in the chest, crushing at least one rib. She groaned, coughing up blood. I twisted further and further.

“Please...” she sobbed. “Please...”

Then, there was a snap and she fell limply to the side. He tried to scream at me, his eyes even more furious than before, his one wing flapping angrily. I let her body hit the floor with a dull thump and turned to him, saying, “Now that wasn’t so bad, was it?”

I grinned. “I wonder how much force it would take to tear your other wing off?”

And that was when it happened. His eyes softened, and he stopped screaming at me. Instead, a pleading look came over him. His lower lip trembled, and tears streamed down his face. I licked my lips.

I bent down, and stuck my tongue out—

“All right, you sick fuck. I’ve heard enough.”

The police officer wrote something down on his clipboard and looked up at me.

“So that was the first time you killed someone?”

I nodded. “Yes, sir.”

He let out a sigh, and I could almost hear him mutter, “Fucking animal”, under his breath. “Okay, tell me about the couple on Maple Avenue.”

I smiled. “Certainly, sir.”

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