The Striped Pony

by ts_cogwheel

First published 6th of March, 2014

When a zebra has grown accustomed to being shunned, trying to become a part of a community is not easy.

Since meeting Apple Bloom, Twilight, and their friends, Zecora's life has become much more filled with warmth and purpose than it has been ever before. But old patterns of thought are hard to change, and becoming part of a community can seem impossible to a recluse.

2014-10-15: Edited by Feo Takahari.

Slip of Tongue

Perfect.

Zecora, pot-holder in mouth, tipped the pastries from the hot plate onto the grate to cool off. The crust on each piece of honey and cardamom cake was very light brown along the edge, with a soft gradient towards the beige centre where she had carefully placed half a walnut core. The crust was crisp, yet the slightly squishy way it gave when poked assured her that the lemon custard filling had preserved its moistness.

Once again, her cake-baking "just happened to" coincide with Apple Bloom's expected visit that afternoon. It occurred to her that the pastries could be considered a bribe for the filly's heartwarming company, but Apple Bloom had started coming regularly to her hut in the Everfree Forest before Zecora had begun coordinating her baking days with the young one's visits. The filly never showed disappointment if there was no cake, but beamed whenever there was. The smile on Apple Bloom's face had become a much relied-upon source of happiness for the hermit, and between the bouncy filly and Twilight's visits, Zecora's life had changed more than she had ever anticipated.

As if on cue, a rap on the door pulled the zebra out of her thoughts. Quickly, Zecora hoofed the dirty utensils into the mixing bowl. Then she hastily ran a wet dishcloth over the cooking table, cleaning up most of the flour, and threw it into the bowl, which she hid in the broom closet. The filly probably - hopefully - would never know, but whenever Zecora was expecting visitors, she usually spent hours cleaning her hut in order to make it pass for a home. Years of hardly ever having anypony come by, except the occasional customer who preferred not to enter her hut anyway, had led to a rather laissez-faire approach to housekeeping. Her neatly organised herbal ingredients were the only exception to the chaos of odds and ends gathered over the years, and the many rows of bags hanging from the ceiling weren't exactly radiating flank shui. The first time Twilight and her friends had come on an announced visit - both to get to know Zecora and to apologise for the way they had treated her when they first met - the bachelorette zebra had gone on a three day cleaning frenzy, only just managing to get the house presentable before the ponies had arrived. Thankfully, Rarity had declared her hut "authentic" and "charming," deciding that the stains on her copperware were "such an endearing patina."

These days, it took less work to get her home in a non-embarrassing condition, though drapes were still heavily used to hide the mess on her shelves, and she was happy that nopony had to see her bedroom. Checking everything over as she walked by, Zecora went through the hut and opened the door to welcome the bow-wearing visitor.

"Apple Bloom, my filly dear, did your nose tell you to come out here?" she asked as she saw her guest delightedly take in the cardamom scent of the freshly baked goods.

"Hi Zecora!" the little earth pony exclaimed. "Hey, this smells really nice! Have ya been bakin'?" She underlined her excitement with one of her adorable little bounces, smiling from ear to ear.

The zebra let the filly in with a "Your timing is immaculate: the cakes are cooling on the grate."

Apple Bloom let out a squee. "Oh, can Ah help make tea?" Zecora smiled. To the filly, the zebra way of tea infusion might be a fun game, but she still performed it with the reverence of a true shaman. In Zebrabwe, serving pure, unblended tea was reserved for solemn occasions, and regular tea time was surrounded with ceremony and rituals, the foremost being the selection of infusion ingredients. Since her exile, Zecora had rarely had the chance for sharing tea, and doing so with Apple Bloom naturally brought forth a bit of nostalgia.

"I gladly welcome that request. Pick your infusion, honoured guest," she invited with the formality of a tea ceremony. She then laid out her well-cared-for equipment - there was no endearing patina on this silver set of herbal knives, spoons, tea egg, tea egg plate, and ladle. They each rested in their own hollow in a large, ornate, silk-lined box of dark wood, along with a small mortar and pestle in green marble and sand timers for three, five, and seven minutes. Although they had clearly seen much use - they had been Zecora's mother's and her mother's before - they had been kept in fine condition. Apple Bloom had, from the first time she saw the intricately decorated utensils, treated them with respect, and while Zecora had never actually told the filly how much they and the tea ceremony meant to her, the little pony seemed to have gathered it anyway, and recognised the sign of trust she was given.

Apple Bloom took great care in her choices. To Zecora's delight, she blended the loose black leaves with dried apple, cinnamon, ginger, and aniseed. Those were spices that would complement the cardamom of the cakes, and were neither a traditional pony infusion nor as sweet as something a filly would usually pick. In fact, they were very close to what she herself would have blended, had her guest been an adult zebra - though she probably would have held back on the apples. Of course, the young tea master was a bit generous with the honey she added to the pot, but it was still a quite good performance.

While the tea was steeping, Zecora set the table, bringing out her baked goods. Apple Bloom eyed them eagerly, and the zebra hadn't the heart to let her wait until the tea was ready.

"Here, have a bite sour, sweet and crisp - the cake that we call honey lips." The zebra muzzled the cake plate towards her guest, who grabbed one of the treats as fast as she could without being impolite. With the unnecessary nervosity of a hostess, Zecora watched Apple Bloom bite off a corner of the sweet, spicy pastry. As the filly nibbled on the crust, the citric aroma - until then trapped in the hollow of the cake with the still steaming custard - reached her nostrils, and she drew in the unexpected scent in a long, appreciating breath.

"M-hmmm! Thish ish delishioush!" she said through her second bite. Zecora let out a held breath. It was the first time she had served this particular cake to a pony, and while Apple Bloom seemed to like most of her Zebrabwean recipes, there had been exceptions. The less said about the cayenne curry pot, the better.

Apple Bloom was halfway through her cake - slowing down significantly as her tongue touched the hot custard - when the last of the sand ran through the five-minute timer. The filly laid down her treat to remove the tea egg from the snout-less pot and carefully fill the two cups using the ladle.

Zecora sipped her tea. As she had expected, it was on the sweet side, and the spice balance was a bit off, but it was still enjoyable. "This tea you made is very good," she approved. "It truly complements the food."

The filly did another of her little joyous bounces, then looked at Zecora. "Really? Yer not just sayin’ that, are ya? Do you ‘like it’ like it? Could tea-making be mah very special talent? Could Ah be a Cutie Mark Crusader Tea Maker?" she rambled, walking around herself, trying to look at her own flank, which was as blank as always.

Any visit from Apple Bloom had the filly going into cutie mark frenzy at least once. Her friends did the same, so Zecora wondered if every young pony went through such a phase. The filly clearly had a talent for carefully measuring and controlling her hoofwork, and really excelled at crafting, but as long as she was focused on the result rather than the process, she wouldn't find the zenbra mindset of a true craftspony. Zecora wasn't one to tell anypony what to do with her life, but she encouraged the filly in her interests, certain that she would someday understand the importance of being mindful.

"If it is, there's but one way to know: keep doing what you like, and your cutie mark will show."

"What does that even mean?" the filly frowned, cross-eyed, stopping her attempts to orbit herself. "How can Ah find mah cutie mark if Ah only stick to thangs Ah've already tried?"

Zecora opened her mouth and closed it again. Let her find out her own way.

"See? Ya really need to think thangs through, Zecora!" Apple Bloom said triumphantly. Zecora managed to not facehoof.

Returning to the task at hand, the little one eyed her half-eaten pastry and resumed her happy munching. Zecora smiled. The mind was as bouncy as the legs.

After a couple sips of tea, Zecora directed her guest's attention to the reason for her visit.

"So, you wanted me to see your homework for sweet Cheerilee?"

The filly really wanted to do well in school, but while her big sister was loving and sensible, Applejack’s patience for helping with school work paralleled her infatuation with makeovers. Apple Bloom had once asked Twilight for help, but the purple perfectionist had turned a very simple multiplication problem into a four-page differential equation (“We have to consider the growth of the apples still on the trees during the time it takes to pick them. Oh, and how about delays due to rain? Since the weather isn’t noted, we must assume an average of the standard deviations defined by the time of the day. Let me find the pegasus weather schedule...”)

At the notion of her assignment, Apple Bloom’s expression turned glum.

“Yeah. We have to describe ten different kinds of leaves, but Ah don’t know how,” she pouted. “Scootaloo just wrote ‘green an’ leafy’ ten times an’ scooted off to see the pegasus flyball team practice, an’ Sweetie Belle is tryin’ to make a dress out of leaves ’cause she says that’s what Rarity would do. Ah reckon none of them are doin’ it right, an’ I reeeally wanna impress Miss Cheerilee! Earth ponies are s’posed to be good at this stuff!”

The disheartened filly rummaged through her saddlebags, producing a piece of paper crumbled into a ball. She straightened it and revealed a mess of green crayon drawings, crossed over with red.

“Ah tried to draw some leaves, but they all ended up totally alike,” she sighed. “Then I thought ‘Maybe Zecora can help. She’s real good with plants!’” The filly’s glinting, pleading eyes almost filled her entire head, with splashes of red on her cheeks effectively making her irresistible.

Basic leaf lore. Zecora felt a surge in her stomach. She was already in a nostalgic mood, and this innocent request threw her into a well of memories.

A zebra filly, a few years older than Apple Bloom, is standing for the first time in the hut of the Honoured Xephyr, shaking on her long, clumsy growth-spurt legs. The shaman's gaze feels like it is burning its way into the young one's mind, seeing through every lie, every thoughtless or selfish act ever committed in the filly’s short life, weighing them on unseen scales. In the immeasurable eternity it takes for sand to run through a three-minute tea timer, there is silence.

Another eternity passes as the elderly mare fills her cup, brings it to her lips, takes a single sip, sets it down and declares, in the most matter-of-fact way:

"Too much clove, but you’ll do. I agree to tutor you."

The filly's eyes widen, and her smile beams like the spiral sun on her flank - the soul symbol representing her affinity with all that grows. It will be hard work, but it will be worth it. Finally...

"Zecora? Are ya alright?"

Zecora didn’t know how long she had been staring at the filly, but it had been long enough that the big, orange eyes looking back at her hinted concern.

Shaking the daydream out of her head, the shaman answered. “I am fine, but thank you, dear. Come and see what I have here.” She gestured for the slightly confused yellow filly to follow her to one of her bookshelves.

The book was one she hadn’t opened in years, yet she knew exactly where it was, and as she grabbed the thin volume, its large size and light weight were ever so familiar. It was inexpertly bound: little more than four coarse pieces of string held the pages together through a cardboard cover cut from a packaging box, painted with bright colours. The paint was cracked and flaky, and the battered cover spoke of heavy use. It was by far the least assuming book in her library, but also the one closest to her heart.

Apple Bloom stared at the mangled book with confusion, until she got a look at the large drawing of a spiral on the front. She looked from the book to Zecora as the zebra gently flipped the cover. On the first page, there were several colour pencil drawings of leaves, shaky, but still recognisable. The drawings varied widely, but there were some common traits: the slightly asymmetric drop-like shape, the direction and spacing of the veins, and the serrated edges. Zecora pointed out these traits as she guided the filly through the page.

"Commit these shapes to memory, then let us go and find this tree," she told Apple Bloom, who was looking intensely at the drawings, putting her hoof to first one and then another, mumbling to herself.

As they left the hut, Apple Bloom zoomed to the nearest tree, jumping up and grabbing a leaf from a low-hanging branch. She studied it between her hooves and quickly decided that it looked completely wrong. The wild shape of the oak leaf looked nothing like the well-defined ones she had just been studying. She told Zecora as much, and the shaman nodded approvingly.

Encouraged by the zebra's confirmation, the filly bounced to a nearby sapling, giving it a single look before dismissing it as well. The telltale five-pointed shape of the crimson maple leaf was just as wrong as the oak had been. After going through a couple of other unlikely candidates, she stopped at a hazel. She turned the leaf with a scrutinising look on her face, immersed in thought. When she spoke, it was hesitantly.

"Ah don't know. This seems almost right, but there's somethin' wrong with the shape. It isn't as... sharp?... as the drawings? What do ya say, 'Cora?"

A nickname? Zecora mused. She couldn't remember if anyone had ever given her one of those, other than those rather unflattering ones that she would prefer to forget. It was strangely warming. Also, Apple Bloom was exceeding her expectations, and it was with a proud smile she opened her muzzle to reply.

Before she had the chance, however, she noted the look on the filly's face. She was staring at something behind the zebra, a revelation slowly dawning upon her.

"THAT'S IT!" she yelled, jumping two pony heights straight up and changing direction mid-air, leaving behind her a small dust cloud and a whipcrack sound. Faster than Zecora could turn, the yellow lightning bolt was back at her hut, jumping onto the large tree. She ran along one of the solid branches and bounced triumphantly into one of the low-hanging parts of the crown.

Moments later, a bunch of twigs fell onto the ground in front of the zebra, making her take a step backward in surprise. From the mass of leaves, a beaming face emerged, a single green trophy sticking out from the middle of the broad smile.

Taking in the filly's satisfaction, Zecora grabbed a twig from the red mane.

"The correct leaf you do provide." She tickled the little pony with the leafy end of the twig. "An elm is what I live inside."

Drunk with success, the filly danced around, wielding a branch between her teeth. She was so overwhelmed with pride that she even forgot to check her (still blank) flank for a sign of being a Cutie Mark Crusader Tree Identifier (yay!).

Once the victory dance was over, Zecora pointed a hoof to other elm trees a bit further from her hut.

"Now you know the correct tree, let's study its diversity," she suggested, and the two of them started to collect different elm leaves. Apple Bloom soon had a broad spectrum of sizes and shapes on her hooves, and on her own, she realised what the next step was.

"With all them here leaves, Ah can make a page just like the one in yer book! It'll be a super way to do mah homework! Do ya think we can do this for ten types of plants?" She nearly burst with enthusiasm.

Zecora was almost as proud as the little one on her behalf. "That idea is very sage - you have the leaves for your first page."

As the filly sat at the table with a coloured pencil in her mouth, trying to draw the different leaves she had collected, Zecora's excitement over the lesson's success made way for a realisation of her own: the student had become the teacher. When did this happen? She had explained things about zebra culture and recipes before, especially to the ever curious Twilight Sparkle, but this was something different. This was not merely filling the gaps in somepony’s knowledge. It was supplying the framework within which her pupil herself could come to an understanding. It was... teaching. And it felt good.

---

Several hours later, as the afternoon became evening, Apple Bloom had finished her last page, and was comparing it to Zecora’s old notebook. The exhausted but happy teacher had her attention focused on boiling mushroom soup in the kitchen, when something clicked in the back of her mind. Alarmed, she rushed to the living room, but she was too late! Apple Bloom had reached the last page in the notebook, and was looking at them.

Stupid, stupid, stupid! How could she have forgotten the photographs? Excuses and explanations rushed through Zecora’s mind as sweat sprang from her brow. You may laugh at this young mare, but that’s how everyzebra had her hair... Yes, I know th...

“Aww, is this you? Ya look so cute!” Apple Bloom pointed to the one. A teenaged Zecora smiled back from the book, proudly holding her first apprentice cauldron. Her long limbs were still awkwardly proportioned, her new, single golden neck ring shining in the sun, her cheeks plastered with too much rouge, her hooves brightly polished red, her amateurishly applied lipstick, her hair... Oh, stars above, her hair! What had been going through her mind to think that long, braided pigtails could ever be excused? And the colours... Rainbow Dash was able to bear them naturally, but this young zebra? Why had she ever allowed Apple Bloom near that book? She would never...

… Wait. Cute?

“You... think?” Zecora was flabbergasted. What? How?...

She started to relax, thinking the crisis averted. Then it hit her. Apple Bloom hadn’t noticed it; she just kept smiling at the photo.

Her tongue had slipped.

Her tongue had slipped, and she found that she didn't care.

Author's Notes:

Edited by the awesome Feo Takahari.

The Conspirators

"Nuts and shoes! That was mah last manticore! How do ya DO it, Rainbow?"

The pegasus picked up the small figurine from the map and flipped it into the air. She caught it on her nose and set it down on her prison board among the other conquered game pieces, which she had arranged so that they were mockingly facing the players who had lost them.

"Face it, Applejack!" she gloated. "You just can’t compete with my skills!"

Her pincer attack had come as a surprise for the orange pony, but Applejack had never been much of a tactician. Twilight, on the other hoof, proved to be much more of a challenge. Right now, the unicorn was building up forces behind her barricades, and Rainbow Dash's attempts to lure her into stretching her front line had failed. Rarity's forces were spread too evenly to be dangerous, though she had to be wary in case the pearly white hooves were holding a Rally card. Pinkie Pie was as usual employing silly and unpredictable tactics, but her successes were infrequent at best, so unless she pulled off something brilliant like that time with the alpine elephant skiers, Dash was good. Fluttershy she was going to spare for last, if only to give her oldest friend a sliver of a chance. If Applejack was bad, the gentle pegasus was downright abysmal. Whenever she defeated a unit, she apologised to it profusely, and put it into a tea party with dollshouse furniture in her prison. It wasn’t a very large tea party.

Applejack thought she was in trouble now, but she would be surprised in three turns, when her Capital fell, and there was nothing she could do at this point. Rainbow's deployment was simply too perfect, and even if Twilight should choose to take advantage of her thinned forces, she still had an ace in her hooves: she had spent days analysing what had made Pinkie's alpine attack so effective, replaying the scene countless times until she had all the factors down. Unless Twilight had done the same, she wouldn't recognise the trap the pegasus had laid. She almost wished that the bookworm would try. The counterattack would make her squirm like a worm... Like a bookworm! HA, Rainbow applauded her own wits quietly.

While most ponies would consider Rainbow Dash to be too hot-headed for tabletop games, they would revise their opinion once they had felt crushing defeat at the pegasus's hooves. Twilight might be Ponyville’s undefeated chess champion, but Armies and Alicorns was her game. It had been the thunderstorm pastime of choice back at Junior Speedsters, and ever since, Dash had perfected her skills with fervor. So much that the girls' game nights had a stupid and completely unfair limit as to how often she was allowed to bring along her limited edition deluxe size waterproof set.

She fortified her position and passed the turn to Fluttershy, who, as usual, hadn't planned ahead, and looked her options over anxiously. As the yellow hostess uselessly moved a single unit from one of her territories to another, there was a knock on the door.

Fluttershy immediately disappeared under the table, but as nothing more happened, her pink mane slowly reemerged.

"Oh!" she whispered. "I think there’s somepony at the door. Maybe I should go check? I-if you don't mind, that is."

"It's prolly Zecora comin' in with Apple Bloom," Applejack guessed, seemingly happy to take her mind off the game.

Fluttershy opened the door to her cottage and proved her friend right. The zebra was wearing her gray cloak (which Rainbow Dash still silently considered pretty creepy), and the filly had her saddlebags full of something. Both of them were smiling, and there was something unfamiliar about the hermit’s appearance. Something Dash couldn’t quite put her hoof on.

"Hi sis," Applejack called. "Did ya get the help ya wanted?"

The filly nodded energetically. "Oh yeah! Zecora was totally super duper awesome!" she beamed, pointing to her companion, who was trying not to make eye contact with anypony, embarrassed by the praise.

Rainbow consulted her internal awesomeometer. Totally Super Duper Awesome. That was high, closing in on Wonderbolt-class awesome. Certainly not a tier she had ever placed Zecora in before, nor heard her described. Mentally preparing to add some awesome points to the zebra, she still had to subtract some coolness for her being so bashful about it. Maybe minus pie point twelve coolness points? The loss in radicalness didn't matter much, on the other hoof: Zecora was almost at Twilight-level in that category. There just weren't numbers low enough for that.

Of course, as always with non-approved sources, there was the risk that the little pony was using the word “awesome” wrongly, so Dash withheld the points until she could confirm their justification. She flapped over to the pair and inspected them. Zecora had lowered her hood, and up close the pegasus realised: she was looking relaxed. Not just her usual calm, but honest-to-Celestia "life-is-good" relaxed.

Good for her, Rainbow mused. That was clearly worth some coolness points. But what about the awesome? As the filly produced a stack of papers with green drawings, and proudly showed them - along with jars of leaves - to her sister, Dash put her hoof to her face. They’d been fussing over plant leaves. Plant leaves! How less awesome could you get? The pegasus promptly punished the pair of eggheads by subtracting one thundercloud of awesome points from them both, along with some radicalness points for good measure. She was about to say something sarcastic, but Applejack preempted her.

“Those look mighty fine there, sis. Ah hope she wasn’t too much of a problem, Zecora.” They shook hooves.

“Not at all. T’was quite fun, really, to teach this knowledge-hungry filly.” Zecora smiled warmly.

"Bah! Boring!" Rainbow returned to her pillow at the table, forehooves crossed. And here she'd thought something cool had happened.

“Oh my! Of course. Sorry!" Fluttershy apologised. "Would you like a cup of tea, Zecora? Let me get you something to sit on...” She flew to her top cupboard and pulled out a green plush pillow with an orange rim. Putting it down by the table, she looked at her guest nervously.

"I hope this pillow isn't too soft for you, Zecora. Rarity did a very nice job making them perfect for ponies to sit on, but you are larger than a pony, so... Eep!" She halted with widened eyes, realising how what she said could be taken.

"Oh no! I'm sorry! I didn't mean it like that, I only wanted to say that..." she spluttered, face crimson.

"I know what you were getting at," Zecora said in her usual calm tone. "You meant to say my flank is fat," she concluded with a sad pout, turning to look at her spiral-adorned behind.

"What?!" Rainbow Dash’s gaze flashed angrily from the thunderstruck pegasus to the large striped hermit. "Come on! You know that Fluttershy would never..." Then she noticed the grin on Zecora's muzzle. She was pulling their legs.

"Waitaminute... are you?" Rainbow's brain broke. Zecora making a joke?

Pinkie Pie bounced to Fluttershy and stood beside the still-shocked pegasus, looking Zecora over with a mock stern expression.

"Yeppo! You really need to hold back on those sweets, Zecora! You are the fattest fatty in all of Equestria! Why, just the other day, I asked myself: 'Myself,' I asked, 'do you know who's really fat?' And I answered 'Why, yes, myself! Of course I know: Zecora is really, really fat! She's so fat that when she steps onto her bathroom scales, they say one at a time, please!'"

"I am so fat, I haven't seen my hooves since I was just a teen," the zebra quickly countered.

"You're so fat that every photo of you is a group shot!"

"By mistake, sometimes you'll see Princess Luna raising me."

The two broke into a giggling fit, and Fluttershy's frightened expression mellowed.

Applejack looked at Apple Bloom, who mirrored her confusion.

"What just happened?"

"Dear Fluttershy, please have no fear," Zecora intoned as she walked over to the pegasus. "This pillow’s fine for my big rear." She wiggled her rump at the last words, but before the pegasus flustered further, Zecora produced a jar from beneath her cloak. In what Rainbow assumed was an apology for her teasing, she offered Fluttershy the first of the sweet-scented goods.

Recognising the gesture, Fluttershy gently took the pastry. "Thank you, Zecora.”

Zecora let the jar pass among the other ponies. Pinkie Pie held hers up, and while Fluttershy filled a cup of tea for the newcomers, the apprentice confectioner sniffed at the cake approvingly.

"And here we find the source of our striped friend's fatness!" she declared. "A sneakily delicious pastry with a fine scent of cardamom and honey. It is a traditional Zebrabwean cake with an expertly sealed-away mushy treasure. A whiff of lemon reveals that it is the variant known as honey lips in some parts, which is rumoured to be..."

She stuck the entire cake into her mouth and munched loudly. "...Hoof-licking good!" she concluded, and did just that.

Zecora had been listening intently to Pinkie's lecture. "Pinkie Pie, you always amaze. How do you know my homeland's ways?" she asked, pleasantly surprised.

"I’vebeen studying," Pinkie said proudly, putting a clean-licked hoof around Twilight, who eyed it with suspicion. "Somezebra has a birthday coming up in a week, and what kind of friend would I be if I didn't know the right cake to bake?" she concluded with her usual straightforwardness.

Zecora sat stunned, as if her brain was trying to process a large and unusually complex heap of information. Slowly she opened her mouth, then closed it again, cheeks turning red.

"I simply don't know what to say. Where did you find out my birthday?" she rhymed haltingly.

"It was on the Certificate of Equestrian Citizenship you have framed on your wall next to that diploma that is really hard to read!"

Rainbow Dash had known Pinkie for years, and her bubbly friend's keen powers of observation could not surprise her anymore. Twilight was starting to get the hang of it as well, but Zecora was still unfamiliar enough with the group of friends that such displays of brilliance took her by surprise.

Still, she grinned and recomposed herself.

"It's true: my date of birth draws near. I haven't thought of that in years."

Pinkie Pie's face contorted into a look of utter horror. "What?" she shrieked, jumped into the air. "You haven't had a birthday party in years? This is horrible! I was thinking about throwing you a party, but that won't do. Nonononono. I need to prepare a par-TAY to make up for this! Gummy, take a note, please!"

She picked up the baby alligator from the carpet, where he had been fruitlessly attempting to devour Tank's shell. Sticking a pencil into his toothless maw, she started dictating a "Pinkielicious birthday party preparation list." Gummy gnawed on the pencil twice and let it drop to the floor.

Zecora laughed and interjected, "there is no need for all this stuff. You being there will be enough. I hadn't thought you'd even say you'd want to celebrate my day."

"But of course, darling!" Rarity said, floating a measuring tape around the birthday mare to-be while scribbling on a notepad. "And I have just the perfect idea for a gift!... Oh, my." She looked at her pad. "What wouldn't I give to have these ratios. I must disagree with you and Pinkie concerning your fatness."

Zecora looked flattered, but not too comfortable with being the center of attention. She seemed relieved when Applejack spoke up.

"Aw, ponyfeathers! Look at the time! Ah better get Apple Bloom back home, or she'll be a pain to wake up tomorrow!"

"Ah'm not -ahh- sleepy yet, sis!" the filly yawned, drawing a laugh from everypony.

Rainbow Dash sent a longing stare to the game board. Just three more turns...

Applejack followed her eyes. "Aw, shucks, Rainbow. You'll get your chance to beat me next time. Thank ya again for takin’ Apple Bloom off mah hooves, Zecora.” She brought a forehoof to the rim of her hat in gesture.

“The pleasure’s mine, dear Applejack. Now I, too, must be getting back.”

The group got up to say their goodnights, and sent the Apple girls and Zecora on their way. As Zecora disappeared into the distance, Rainbow was certain she heard her hum a merry tune.

She turned to the remaining ponies as Fluttershy closed the door.

"Wow, she sure was in a good mood today."

"Good?" Rarity protested. "She was positively radiant. I've never seen her like this before. Twilight, you know her the best. What do you think has happened?"

Twilight pondered. "Well, she has been seeing more and more of Apple Bloom, and she always seem to enjoy sharing her knowledge. Maybe she really likes teaching? She did a wonderful job on Nightmare Night."

"Well, whatever it was, she should do it more. I for one would welcome her opening up a bit."

"Yeah," Rainbow quizzed Pinkie. "What were all those fat jokes about?"

"Oh, don't you see? She was showing that she felt safe!"

Rainbow, Twilight, and Fluttershy stared at her, nonplussed.

"Pinkie is right," Rarity elaborated. "By setting herself up for a joke, she was opening her defenses as well as allowing us to laugh with her. A bit coarsely, I admit, but who knows how long it has been since she's been this familiar with anypony?"

Fluttershy looked reassured. "So she wasn't angry with me?"

"Oh no, dear! Not at all. She just found it humorous that you would even think that she would take what you said as an insult. Quite the contrary: she was showing confidence that you would never attack her."

The shy pegasus nodded pleased at this, though she still looked a tad confused. Rainbow didn't blame her. Baring herself in confidence... This was a bit like when you went for an allied victory in Armies and Alicorns, and thinned your front towards your ally to show that you were sincere. But in the game, attacking the other players was the norm. In real life, nopony should assume that other ponies would be hostile by default. Not for the first time, she felt guilt for when they had barged into the zebra's hut and accused her of having cursed them. She hadn't had an easy time in Ponyville until recently. If anyone deserved...

Pinkie spoke what Rainbow was thinking, "So, what can we do to get more happy-Zecora?" She knocked thrice on her forehead. "Let's use our noggins, girls!"

Author's Notes:

Edited by the patient Feo Takahari.

Still working on the recipe for Honey Lips.

Memories

As she walked home in the twilight, the cool wind slowly returned Zecora to her senses.

What in the world had possessed her to tease poor Fluttershy like that? The sweet mare had gone out of her way to make her comfortable, and this was how she repaid her kindness? That Pinkie Pie had played along with the joke was no excuse for her careless behaviour.

And that was just it, wasn't it? She had been carefree; drunk with happiness, even. It was an unfamiliar feeling and, while pleasant, not one she was sure how to react to. She saw herself as a sensible mare. It was her shield against loneliness, but did she need that shield any more? Her afternoon with Apple Bloom had shown her beyond doubt that she was no longer alone. The filly and her sister's group of friends had opened up to her like nopony had before.

Hopefully, she hadn't ruined it all with her actions at Fluttershy's cottage. She had half a mind to go back and apologise, but couldn't muster the courage. After having been together with ponies all afternoon and evening, the current void made her realise how tired she was.

She entered the Everfree Forest and let its sounds fill her mind. For a few breaths it worked, and there was nothing in the world but the forest and the placement of one hoof in front of the other, but soon her thoughts surfaced again. She had let her tongue slip when Apple Bloom had surprised her. She had spoken in the spontaneous prose of the Equestrians, yet she was not embarrassed. Were the ponies starting to rub off on her? If they are, will they rub off my stripes? she wondered. Could she become part of Ponyville and still be true to her origins?

A fearful gasp. A face painted with sorrow. The zebra filly didn't understand; she had been so happy. The sun had shone through after weeks of cloudy weather. She had frolicked in the warm rays and seen how the animals did the same -even the flower buds slowly opened up and turned towards the bright orb. She had loved it. She had loved how every animal, every plant sang the song of life in its own voice, and she had realised that nothing could be more beautiful than learning to understand these voices.

But it was wrong, they told her. The sun was nothing to celebrate. The beautiful radiant spiral mark that had appeared on her flank did not mean life. It meant death. A thousand years ago, a mad pony Princess had taught the zebras that. She had stopped the sun and moon in the sky, threatening daytime eternal on the Zebrabwean hemisphere. For weeks, the sun didn't set. The plains had been burnt to deserts and the rivers and lakes had dwindled. When night finally fell, the zebras knew to never trust the sun again. They started worshipping the stars and built their homes into the mountainsides, giving refuge from the Burning Eye.

The only zebras who studied the sun's cycle were the shamans, and even they did so with caution. They would know when were the best times to sow and harvest different plants, and they would pay their respects to the sun, but never their love.

Zecora shook the memory out of her mind. This was not what she wanted to remember Zebrabwe for. The semi-religious fear of the sun was not what defined her culture.

The filly was beaming. The mosaic she presented to her grandmother had taken her hours to make, and she had been able to feel the “ser-ene state of mind,” her mother had told her about as she had sat beside her, patiently encouraging her to do her best, but never interfering in her hoofcraft. This was something she had made herself, and the pleased look on the elderly mare's face when she received the present made the feeling of accomplishment all the sweeter. She could feel the love it was made with, she said, and hung it on her mantelpiece along with the beautiful items that told the story of her life. As the reflection of the flames shone in the coloured stone and glass, grandmother and granddaughter sat watching it in silence, a large forehoof resting on the filly's shoulder.

Yes, the contemplative mindset, the deep conversations, the dedication to craft, the unity of purpose- those were zebra values worth recalling.

Only unity isn't always a virtue, a traitorous voice in the back of her mind said.

No, not that...

Another town without a shaman had turned the mare down. In the year since her graduation, she had wandered the mountains, looking for a place to call home. Zebras saw her soul mark and whimpered, called her cursed, or flat out chased her away with threats of violence. It was getting worse. An old prophecy said that The Mad Princess would return, and the year of her reemergence was drawing closer. Even her old hometown did not want her back. When she had last visited her parents, she had been met with cold stares everywhere, and in the dark of night, somezebra had thrown rocks through her parents' windows and set fire to their crops. The two had feared for their daughter's life, and when they parted, they all knew it was good-bye forever.

As she made camp for the night, the day's failure nagging in her mind, she saw torches in the distance. Fearfully, she snuck closer, and heard the angry murmur of excited zebras. One let out a shout and pointed at the dim light from her camp fire, and they trotted in her direction. She shrouded herself in the darkness with a potion she'd hoped she'd never have to use, and saw the mob tear apart her belongings and throw most of them on the fire, yelling insults tauntingly into the night. With naught but a few saved mementos in her saddlebags, she left the mountains of her homelands, never to return.

Well, their fears had been at least partly justified, Zecora argued with herself. Nightmare Moon had returned, and had it not been for Twilight Sparkle and her friends, the Zebrabwean sun would have stood still in the sky once again.

Twilight Sparkle and her friends. Zecora's friends. She had met many beings in her journeys, but ponies were the first she would call friends.

For years, she drifted, never staying in one place for long. As she got farther away from Zebrabwe, the fear of the mark on her flank lessened, but it was replaced with other kinds of distrust. The griffins mocked her wingless body, the giraffes were fearful of her herbal skills, the elephants had no place for outsiders in their nomadic groups, and the okapi, despite their superficial likeness to the zebra, were solitary and fiercely territorial. In Saddle Arabia, they considered her small, stout body a curiosity, but while they were at least polite towards her, she was treated as little more than an interesting savage - a second-class citizen at best. When she saw a ship coming in from the faraway Equestria, she saw ponies for the first time, and was drawn to them by their almost-familiar shapes.

The Captain was called Salty Winds, she remembered. He was the first to address her as an equal since she left her apprenticeship. His crew was a friendly sort, informal and gregarious, and they convinced her to join them on their month-long return trip to Equestria. She never found her sea legs, however, and whenever the ocean was less than serene, she was hanging over the railing, cursing the stars.

Zecora smiled. The pony sailors had taught her more than just risqué drinking songs; they had reminded her what it felt like to be a part of a community. Salty himself had vouched for her when she petitioned for Equestrian citizenship.

The palace was easily the most wonderful structure she had ever seen. While some zebra buildings were impressive, majestic even, they were dim and sombre. In Canterlot, the sun was celebrated. Grand open places, huge stained-glass windows through which the daylight playfully kissed her grayscale coat with multi-hued colours. The corridor she had been directed down had beautiful mosaic windows depicting highlights of Equestrian history and she remembered wondering, as she reached the guarded, ornate door at the end, what kind of clerk had such a grand office. As the door opened and the guard announced her entrance, she stood in shock, staring at the mare who was to sign her citizen certificate.

The Princess of the Sun was more than beautiful, she was transcendent. Her coat was impossibly white, barely containing the glow of pure, uncontained power in her tall, slender body. No, more than power: life. The same sensation of life, of love, that had once filled a young zebra filly with awe stood there, personified. As Zecora regained a sliver of control of her body, she fell to her knees, overwhelmed by the presence of the monarch.

"Rise, my little zebra," the alicorn said as she looked at her guest with gentle eyes filled with understanding. She had heard Zecora's story, she told her, and she felt partly responsible for her troubles. Zecora started to protest, but the Princess continued. There was a small town to the south, she suggested. The ponies there, though far from perfect, were honest and friendly, and she believed that Zecora would fit in amongst them. The nearby forest of Everfree was rich in flora, and an herbalist could find much of what she needed for her trade there.

As the Princess set her hoof mark on Zecora's certificate of citizenship, the zebra was too overwhelmed to formulate a response. A town. A home. A chance. She hadn't even noticed the Princess move before the elegant mare touched her shoulder and, with a playful wink, confided:

"After all, we sun-buns should stick together."

Even after five years - had it really been five years already? - the Princess's words still filled Zecora with a mix of pride, belonging, amusement and embarrassment. So much time had passed, and she had been disheartened by the initial attitude of the citizens of Ponyville, but this evening, she finally felt that she was on the path to the life that Celestia herself had sparked the hope for.

Author's Notes:

Edited by the thorough Feo Takahari.

The fic was born before season 4, so it is not entirely consistent with Nightmare Moon's canon. This version of the events is inspired (read: largely stolen) from Kkat's Fallout: Equestria

A Suggestion

Cheerilee sat in her office, rubbing her temples. That Scootaloo, she thought.

It wasn't the first time the filly had troubled the teacher. She was dreadfully inconsistent. If a subject caught her fancy, she was the most devoted, active, curious student one could ask for. If it didn't...

Grass: green and leafy.

Oak: green and leafy.

Ivy: green and leafy.

Hazel: green and leafy.

Daisy: green and leafy.

Beech: green and leafy.

Dandelion: green and leafy.

Stinging nettle: green and leafy. Also stinging.

Maize: green and leafy.

Maple: green and leafy. Wait. That one's red, isn't it?

Cheerilee let out a sigh. She had asked for descriptions of ten types of leaves because she had already covered five in the day's lesson, so they had been giveaways to any student paying even the slightest attention.

Sweetie Belle had at least been creative, though Cheerilee didn't really see how leaves crudely sewn onto a dress could be considered "describing."

Most of the other colts and fillies had done a decent, if uninspired, job. A few had done as she had primed them for, and written a short sentence describing what they saw in each leaf, while others had made crayon drawings, often quite undecipherable, but still it had made them take a closer look at the leaves than they normally did. Others again had merely glued ten different leaves onto their papers, with the name of the plant written next to it. Cheerilee considered that at least a partial success, since the pupils had hopefully reflected at least a bit over the shapes they were holding in their hooves as they worked.

And then there was Apple Bloom.

The filly had really outdone herself this time. Not only had she pasted representative samples from each plant, reflected on the defining traits for each type, and drawn several pages of close-ups and variations, she had also written a small essay comparing the types most alike and explaining how to distinguish them from each other. She had clearly had help, but Cheerilee had read enough from Apple Bloom's mouth to be certain that the small farm pony had formulated the sentences herself, and the impulsiveness of the descriptions revealed that they stemmed from observations rather than just copying from a textbook or somepony's dictation.

Cheerilee wondered who could have helped the filly. Applejack wouldn't have had the patience to let her sister come to all her conclusions herself, so she would probably have dictated at least a part of it in order to get her going. Big Mac had the patience, but Cheerilee couldn't see the stoic stallion nudging Apple Bloom along to some of the deeper reflections in the paper. Whoever had guided her had done so with the utmost regard for her learning process. The teacher saluted the unknown pony silently in professional respect.

Now, what to do with Scootaloo? She could lead a pony to water, but not make her drink. The pegasus had no interest in biology whatsoever. What she needed was...

A knock on the office door broke Cheerilee's train of thought. She walked over and opened it, revealing Twilight Sparkle and Pinkie Pie.

"Good afternoon, you two," she said, inviting them inside.

"Good afternoon, Cheerilee," Twilight answered. She fidgeted. "We... er, we have an idea we would like to discuss with you."

"And what an idea!" Pinkie Pie acted with much more confidence than her friend. She pulled out a easel from... somewhere... with a graph of a rather complex differential equation showing the relationship between "Self-Esteem (X)," "Friendship (♡)," "Purpose (☀)," and "Happiness (☺)." While the overall tendency seemed plausible, Cheerilee wasn't sure that you could muffin a vector with a balloon.

"It’s about Zecora," Twilight blurted, ignoring Pinkie's presentation. "We have been thinking about how to get her to feel more welcome in Ponyville."

Oh, the zebra. Cheerilee felt a pang of guilt. Like almost everypony else, she had been caught up in the scare of the foreigner, and like almost everypony else, she had felt incredibly stupid once Twilight had confronted her with her prejudice. Perhaps even more than most ponies, since she took pride in teaching her pupils to make informed decisions, and her reaction to the stranger had been all but that.

"What can I do to help?" she asked without reservation.

Pinkie Pie flipped the page.

---

This is brilliant, Cheerilee thought as they trotted towards the Everfree Forest. Trust Twilight Sparkle and her friends to come up with something that so elegantly could make everypony happier, she mused. Even though Twilight was the relative newcomer, most ponies thought of the tight-knit group that had saved Ponyville several times as "Twilight Sparkle and her friends." The unicorn truly had a talent for bringing forth the best in everypony.

Twilight knocked on the door to the herbalist's hut. Cheerilee had only been there once before, to purchase a remedy for a rather embarrassing rash. Back then, the strangeness of the zebra's decor had seemed scary and foreboding, but now, together with Twilight and Pinkie Pie, she just found it exotic and interesting. The hollowed-out tree even seemed more welcoming - it was cleaner and neater, as if it was a completely different home.

The "evil enchantress" of Cheerilee’s memory opened the door, wearing a flowered apron with a potato masher in the utensil strap and a pleasantly surprised expression. Cheerilee wanted to bury herself.

"Twilight, Pinkie and Cheerilee! How kind of you to visit me." She let the three in with a smile.

As if to mock Cheerilee's shameful memory of the hut, everything inside seemed to not only be in neat order, but as clean and tidy as Cheerilee's own house was only the day before Hearth's Warming Eve, after an entire day of housework. The teacher could almost feel herself shrink from embarrassment.

The zebra quickly set four cups on her table, then hesitated.

"My chai pot has been brewing long," she said, lifting the lid on a kettle over the fire. "For your taste it might be too strong..."

Cheerilee searched her memory. Tea was an important part of zebra culture, that much she knew. Not being able to serve a cup right away might discomfit Zecora. Was an unannounced visit problematic?

"It is quite all right," Twilight Sparkle said, easing both the shaman's and the teacher's minds. "I would love to sample real Zebrabwean chai."

Relieved, Zecora carried the snout-less black kettle to the table, and poured it using a beautifully engraved silver ladle, not the copper one hanging next to the fire, Cheerilee noticed. The liquid was tan and opaque, unlike any tea the earth pony had ever seen before.

Noticing her puzzled look, Twilight lectured, "Chai is a strongly infused, sugared tea that the zebras brew for a long time in a mixture of water and milk. It is supposed to be very spicy and sweet."

Pleased with her visitor's knowledge, the zebra added, "Twilight, while what you say is true, I take it stronger than most do." She placed a sugar pot and some teaspoons next to the ponies' cups.

Pinkie Pie took a sip and instantly widened her eyes and lifted the lid off the sugar pot. She then unceremoniously poured five spoonfuls into her cup and stirred vigorously.

Wiser from the pink mare's experience, Twilight and Cheerilee both poured a spoonful of sugar before they tried the tea. It was still a very spicy drink, but the sweetness of the sugar and milk offset it nicely. Cheerilee usually took her tea plain, but in this drink the sugar and milk added to the experience, rather than distracted from it. She said as much, and the host smiled.

"I'm glad you think so, Cheerilee. Now, what brings you out here to my tree?"

Cheerilee had been wondering how to present the idea, and decided that the best way would be to make the zebra think that she was the one doing a favor. From what the other two had told her, Cheerilee was certain that interacting with the Ponyville foals would be good for the hermit, but she didn't know the zebra well enough to suggest just that.

Instead, she said, "Well, Miss Zecora. These next few weeks I am teaching biology, and as you know, we have been going through plant lore. Some of my pupils find this field rather boring, and I am at a loss as how to inspire them. I was thinking that maybe a guest teacher could give them a fresh perspective.” She paused, gauging Zecora’s reaction, but the zebra merely smiled attentively.

“Twilight Sparkle told me that you had been the one who helped little Apple Bloom with her assignment for today. I was really impressed with what she delivered, and thought that perhaps your expertise could spark something with my other pupils."

Until this moment, Cheerilee had never seen Zecora show more emotion than a faint smile. So much the more shocking was her reaction, when in a few seconds her usual stoic demeanour cracked completely. Eyes wide open, staring, yet looking at nothing, she stood completely still. Then a tremor rose through her right foreleg. It started as a slight tapping of a hoof and gained vigour as it took over first one and then another leg. As it reached her chest, she started breathing in rapid, sharp whiffs. Her tail whipped back and forth, cracking in the air in an uneven, increasing tempo. As the shakes overtook her entire body, she started shifting weight from hoof to hoof, almost beginning to canter in place as sweat sprang from her brow. Now clearly hyperventilating, her eyes flickered from one pony to another. They were watching her horrified; compassion and helplessness painted in their faces.

Winning back a bit of composure, Zecora stomped a hoof to the floor. She reached for her chai and emptied the cup in one long gulp. She blinked, strangely asynchronous, while trying to regain control of her limbs, steadying one hoof with the other. Ever so slowly, she calmed down, panting heavily.

It took a long time before she spoke, and when she did, she sounded like somepony who had just run a mareathon.

"I'm flattered you would think of me," she almost whispered, her voice at the edge of cracking. "But I'm not the mare you'll have me be." She sighed.

Twilight, who had risen from her seat when she sensed something wrong and had lingered just outside Zecora's personal space, took her last few steps towards the disheartened zebra. They had expected some reluctance, but nothing near this. In their minds, it had seemed a perfect match. What could she have she been through to instill this kind of fear into her? She had been shunned in Ponyville, but wouldn't teaching the foals something she felt at home with be bringing the interaction into her comfort zone?

Twilight put a hoof on Zecora's shoulder, and a slight jolt went through the zebra at the unexpected contact.

"Oh, Zecora. We didn't think you would take it like this. We really thought it was a good idea," she said quietly. Cheerilee could see the zebra holding back a sob. Pinkie Pie, who had somehow gotten to the other side of Zecora, pulled the mare into a hug, which she barely registered. Cheerilee had no idea what to say.

She walked over to the three and put her hoof on Zecora's other shoulder. She didn't know the mare very well, but seeing the limp zebra in Pinkie's forelegs was heartwrecking.

"I'm so sorry..." she said softly. Not knowing what to add, she just stood there, hoof on shoulder, feeling incredibly insensitive.

Author's Notes:

Edited by the wonderful Feo Takahari.

A Cup of Coffee

When Zecora woke up, it was near noon. She had had little sleep, waking time and again from nightmares of staring eyes and burning torches.

This time, it was the heat of the sun through her windows that woke her, and she stirred reluctantly from the bed. Lethargically, she staggered to the kitchen and set a pot to boil. She went through her strongest green teas, inhaling the sharp scent of one jar before putting it back. She didn't have the energy or clarity to mix an infusion. Her heavy eyes fell on the horrible instant coffee Pinkie Pie had once forgotten in her kitchen.

It tasted even fouler than she had remembered. Perhaps two spoons to a cup were too many... What was she thinking? Any spoons were too many! She poured more milk and sugar into the drink, trying to drown the acrid, smoky taste. How could ponies drink this stuff? Twilight's freshly ground single estate Equusadorian coffee was bearable, but if she didn't know better, she would have thought the bitter drink in her hooves was reheated leftovers from the bottom of a dirty pot.

At least the effect was palpable. Not being a regular coffee drinker, Zecora soon felt the rush of caffeine shake the drowsiness away, and after a while, she started being able to string two thoughts together.

She had freaked out. The day before yesterday, she had been wondering if she was starting to become a pony, feeling a sense of belonging after having spent the day with Apple Bloom and joking in the evening with Pinkie Pie at Fluttershy's cottage. Then yesterday, after being presented with a chance to really become a part of Ponyville, she had been stuck by panic. Playing storyteller at Nightmare Night had been a frightening enough experience, but at least back then, she was supposed to scare the foals - that hadn't been hard. This... Every stare and harsh word she had been the target of had raced through her mind, leaving her the pathetic, trembling mess that Twilight Sparkle, Pinkie Pie and Cheerilee had tried to comfort.

It had taken her some time to convince the three that she was all right and that she just needed to be alone. In truth, that was probably the last thing she actually wanted, but she wouldn't succumb to the temptation to bawl her eyes out in Pinkie Pie's hooves. They already felt guilty for stirring up her emotions; she couldn't let them in and show them exactly how much they had stirred. She considered them - at least Twilight and Pinkie - friends, but her pain was hers alone.

It wasn't as if it was a pain that she could explain. Being ostracised and suspected - everypony could understand that it was unpleasant, but to have it dominate most of your existence... She couldn't put words to the way it had shaped her very outlook on life. She wasn't ready to shake that world view. If she failed, she would never be able to try again, face those fears again. She wasn't ready...

She needed air. She had to get out.

She galloped through the forest, faster than she normally would. Getting her pulse up for a natural reason was good. Losing all sense of direction, focusing on her pace, she could almost convince herself she wasn't running away, just running.

Hind left down, start stretching, hind right down, hind left takeoff, hind right takeoff, fore left down, start constricting, fore right down, fore left up, fore right up, hind left down, start stretching, hind right down, hind left takeoff, hind right takeoff, fore left down, start constricting, fore right down, fore left up, fore right up, hind left down, start stretching, hind right down, hind left takeoff, hind right takeoff, fore left down, start constricting, fore right down, fore left up, fore right up, hind left down, start stretching, hind right down, hind left takeoff, hind right takeoff, fore left down, start constricting, fore right down, fore left up, fore right up, hind left down...

Suddenly, much too soon, the dense undergrowth gave way to open fields. She looked around bewildered. Where had she...?

Oh.

She stood, heavily panting, at the edge of Ponyville. Her head was spinning and her heart pounding fiercely. She was shaking. Her throat felt parched. Very parched, now that it had gained her attention. It was like she was breathing through dust. The pain in her overworked lungs was amplified by the dryness. She hadn't had anything but coffee to drink this day. Wasn't there a trough at the market place?

Driven by thirst, she hardly noticed the ponies around her, and went in a beeline for the open area in the middle of the town. There it was. She poured some fresh water from the pump and drank deeply.

Ahh.

Once she was sated, she sat down by the fountain, letting her mind slowly cool down from the adrenaline. She wondered if the statue depicted anypony special. Pony history wasn't her field. Maybe she should ask Twilight.

Oh, that was right. Twilight. Cheerilee. Teaching. Fear. Shame. Panic. She started breathing rapidly again. Short, forceful bursts of air overfeeding her brain with oxygen.

No, she had to gather her thoughts. She had been letting fear overshadow her mind since yesterday. That wasn't her. She was the sensible, thoughtful mare. The one others would call wise. Breath control.

Inhale... Exhale...

Inhale... Exhale...

Inhale... "CUTIE MARK CRUSADER RABBIT HERDERS! YAY!"

A veritable swarm of fluffy white critters stampeded into the marketplace. Behind them came the ever-excited trio of Apple Bloom, Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo, yelling loudly, trying to keep the rabbits running in one direction. It didn't work well: as soon as the flood of fur poured into the open space, they scattered and proceeded to spread chaos and panic. A brown earth pony stallion with an hourglass for cutie mark was knocked over by the wave, which continued over him at an unhindered pace, drowning him in fur. The thunder of hundreds of soft paws made the ground tremble in terror. A cart full of cabbage was attacked and almost instantly emptied in a feeding frenzy challenging that of a swarm of parasprites. Somepony was screaming. A mint green unicorn mare fled to a tree, where she held a cream-coloured earth pony in her hooves, dangling over the hopping horde as it sped towards the apple stall.

"Nnope!"

Big McIntosh stood facing off the stampede, flanked by his sister and the family's dog.

"Get back, ya vandalisin' vermin!" Applejack reared, the very image of self-confidence and authority, and the rabbits in the front of the herd stopped abruptly in their tracks, the ones behind them bumping into them and tumbling around. Expertly, the three started to steer the wave of destruction around, back into the meadows. In perfect unison, they forced the critters to turn and flee, herding them into an orderly flock that left the market square razed and trampled, but rabbit-free.

As the older two Apple siblings rounded up the long-eared lagomorphs, the youngest and her friends stood in the middle of the marketplace, seemingly oblivious to the chaos they had created, but eagerly inspecting each other's flanks. As each of them tried to move into a position where she could see her friends' hindquarters, they ended up chasing each other around in a circle. The sight was just too much for Zecora. She fell onto her back and laughed heartily, uncontrollable tears of relief and merriment streaming down her cheeks. Those foals were just so...

Then she opened her eyes in determination. She knew what she had to do. What she needed to do. What she wanted to do.

---

The teacher opened the door with a surprised look. In the office, Zecora saw a plaster skeleton, a barrel full of rolled-up maps, and a mess of what looked like old arts and crafts projects. On the table lay piles of essays, waiting to be checked, next to a much-used coffee mug and a framed picture of an orange stallion with a wide-brimmed hat and a dapper moustache.

Nervously, the zebra stammered, "I-if you still want it, Cheerilee, I'll teach those foals..."

"...A-and they'll teach me."

Author's Notes:

Edited by the swift Feo Takahari.

Despite being the shortest chapter, this was the hardest to write. I was at the height of my depression, and it took me months between writing attempts. Feo Takahari helped piece it better together.

Green and Leafy

Scootaloo soared through the sky. Beat after powerful beat of her wings brought her higher and higher. At her side, her wingpony and tutor, Rainbow Dash, was sending her a proud smile. They were higher up than the filly had ever been before; so high that the ponies on the ground were little more than ants.

Those poor earth-bound ponies. Life on the ground was drab and pointless compared to this. The cool air against her face, the complete freedom, the camaraderie...

Rainbow Dash laughed with the same delight that Scootaloo felt.

"So, Scoots, are you ready for the dive?"

"See you at the ground!" she grinned back. This was the chance to show Dash how good she had become.

They hovered, wings flapping lazily. Then Rainbow shouted "GO!" and they sped downwards. A few forceful beats to stabilise, and Scootaloo slammed her wings close to her sleek body. Rainbow Dash was already ahead, but not by far. Scootaloo stretched her body, minimising her surface area and slowly gained in on the mare. They rushed towards the ground, faster and faster. This was freefall, the feeling of weightlessness, Scootaloo observed, but kept her mind steady. One small mistake, and she would lose control.

As she came shoulder to shoulder with her idol, the filly saw Rainbow turn her head and open her mouth to say something. In the tiniest fraction of a second, Scootaloo realised that the mare had twisted too much - she was out of alignment. Then the same realisation hit Rainbow Dash, as the force of the air yanked her out of the dive, screaming.

Scootaloo sped past her mentor, and in a matter of seconds she was far below the mare, who was spiralling wildly, out of control. The orange filly slowly let the tip of her wings part from her body, breaking the dive into a controlled half loop. Rainbow Dash was in trouble! She was flailing every limb in an attempt to regain her positioning, but she just kept whirling round and round. If she didn't correct her path soon, she wouldn't have time to pull up. She would crash into the ground, hurt herself, maybe even die! Scootaloo felt her own control slip away in the panic. Dash would die, and it would be her fault! If she hadn't been there, the racing mare would never misalign herself. She would...

The wind caught up under Scootaloo's right wing. She had spread it too quickly! With the force of a hurricane, the wing was yanked up, breaking bone and tearing ligaments. Scootaloo screamed.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH!!"

Covered in sweat, the filly sat up in her bed. Her heart was pounding loudly and her right wing was cramping.

HurtshurtshurtshurtsHURTS!

Scootaloo stroked her cramping wing, trying to massage the pain away. The pulsing sting was all-consuming, feeling like the muscle was trying to burst through her skin.

Reigning in the rebelling muscle, Scootaloo suddenly remembered.

"DASH!" she cried as she jumped out of her bed, looking all over her bedroom for her heroine in distress.

Wait. A dream. I knew that. I just... like to get up early, is all.

She continued to massage her aching wing, trying to look nonchalant for the benefit of her non-existent onlookers. Stupid cramps!

Once the pain lessened to bearable levels, the filly went over to the training rubber band tied to a ring in the wall and wrapped the loose end around her wing. Flexing the limb against the resistance, she worked the muscles back into working order, pumping the acids out. She turned on her battered gramophone and did her morning work-out to the tones of Hay Ocean!'s newest record.

Today, the soreness kept her from completing the routine. She looked over her record of the last month: slowly and steadily, her wings were gaining strength, though not nearly fast enough to satisfy the filly, who took today's drop in wing-ups as a sign of defeat as she wrote the numbers in the journal.

In a thoroughly rotten mood, she went downstairs and into the kitchen. Her mother had left for work before Scootaloo had woken up, as usual, so the filly ate her oatmeal in silence. Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle were probably eating with their families right now, chatting and laughing. Scootaloo poured some more alfalfa on her cereal.

Since she was up early, she did the dishes before leaving for school. One less thing for Mom to worry about, she thought. She would never admit it to her face, but Scootaloo was proud of her mother, handling everything on her own when the filly's father was out on the sea. Between the money the sailor sent home and the mare's meager wages from her cleaning job, they had enough to go by, if only just so, but there wasn't much mother-daughter time. The young adult earth pony had to manage her job, her nurse studies, and the housekeeping on her own, save for the tidbits of help her daughter could manage. Apple Bloom's family made the chores a game, and the pegasus secretly envied her friend the emotional surplus the farm ponies radiated, but she wasn't an unhappy filly.

Except for mornings like this, where she was quite unhappy indeed. She wanted nothing more than to snuggle up to her mother and cry over her stupid wings, but she dismissed the longing as foalish as she donned her scooter helmet. If her mother could handle herself, so could she.

She scooted around the block a couple of times before leaving for Sweetie Belle's. The two usually walked each other to school, and when the pegasus arrived at her friend's house, she was wearing a confident smile she didn't quite feel.

"Hiya, Sweetie Belle! Do you have everything for today's crusading?"

"Almost!" the pearly filly replied, showing off the contents of her saddlebags. "I couldn't get my hooves on any nitric acid, and Rarity refused to let me borrow Opal."

"Darn. Maybe Apple Bloom had better luck. Otherwise, I know where we can find a baby alligator and some lemons."

"CUTIE MARK CRUSADER ROCKET ENGINEERS! YAY!" They high-oned.

Loaded with aluminium foil, valves, balloons, sap remover, pliers, tubes, cardboard, tape, blowtorch, and scooter helmets (safety first!), the two left for school. On the way, they went over the details for this afternoon's crusade, and Scootaloo's mood slowly rose. Apple Bloom's schematics were quite good, and Scootaloo herself was very proud of her ballistics calculations. She had used five different colours of crayons, and complex mathematics like eight balloonfuls of hydrogen divided by still weather minus the distance a pony can run in the time it takes for the ball to drop into the basket... She had even scribbled some random numbers in here and there, to make it look all formal-like.

"Hey girls!" Apple Bloom's voice cried from the road to Sweet Apple Acres. The two greeted their confidante as she galloped towards them.

"Are you ready for today?" Sweetie Belle asked excitedly.

"Ah sure am! It's gonna be tons of fun!" the farmer filly replied.

Scootaloo chimed in, "It's going to be AWESOME! Do you have everything?"

Apple Bloom nodded and opened her saddlebags, showing off her packed... Rubber boots? Mouth shovel? Pruning shears?

"Eh, Apple Bloom... Those aren't carabiners, rain gutters, springs, or rope," Scootaloo said cautiously. Apple Bloom usually didn't mess up like this.

"Oh! For the crusading! Ah thought we could get those on our way back," her friend replied with a smile.

"...Back?" Something stirred in the back of Scootaloo's mind. Something uncomfortable.

"From the field trip, of course. Wait... Did ya forget?" She crooked her head at her friends.

Ponyfeathers! Today was biology. Then they would get their essays from last week back, and Cheerilee would probably have something to say about her answers. She didn't like disappointing her teacher, but those stupid leaves were just so boring!

She rolled her eyes. "Really, Apple Bloom? You think a field trip to look at plants is going to be fun? I'm going to die from not-coolness! I need action!" The rocket engineering crusade seemed forever away now.

The three reached school, Scootaloo's head slouching, her bemused expression contrasting Apple Bloom's bouncy eagerness. Between them, Sweetie Belle was looking from one to another, perplexed.

As they arrived, Cheerilee stood in the school yard, greeting them and their classmates.

"Good morning, Miss Cheerilee!” Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle responded. Scootaloo tried to hide behind them.

The teacher was holding the dreaded stack of assignments, hoofing out the papers to the pupils as they arrived. Scootaloo managed to sneak to the back of the line twice, but when there was only a single sheet of paper left, Cheerilee sought her out herself. She didn't say anything, didn't even look angry or disappointed. She just gave a small, wry smile as she passed the essay back to Scootaloo, who stood with her back pressed to the half-wall fencing the school, trying very hard to be invisible. This wasn't what she expected.

She fearfully looked at the paper. With Cheerilee's green correction pen was written a single line next to the last point of her essay: "Yes. Yes it is."

This was actually worse than scorn. Scootaloo knew she had done a bad job, and part of her craved the release of a disappointed reaction to clear her conscience. Cheerilee just gathered the colts and fillies and asked them to stay close.

"We are going into the Everfree Forest, so I don't want anypony to wander off. Just stick with me and keep an eye on the pony in front and behind you. Scootaloo, you take the rear. Make sure nopony falls behind you."

What? Was this some kind of punishment? Scootaloo wouldn't have thought that Cheerilee had such a vindictive streak, but she wasn't scared of the forest; she'd been there many times. She put on her cockiest smile and saluted.

"Will do, Miss Cheerilee!" If the teacher was hoping for her to whimper, she was wrong.

Actually... Some of her classmates looked at her with... Respect? Admiration? Diamond Tiara whispered something to Silver Spoon with a mean giggle, but most of the rest of her class seemed pretty scared, and Scootaloo heard Snips and Snails discuss something including the words "dangerous" and "brave."

Scootaloo puffed out her chest, and her mood lightened significantly.

Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle joined Scootaloo in the rear of the group, and as the class wandered into the Everfree Forest, the trio seemed to be the only ones who were trotting along the path as they would on any other road. Scootaloo quite enjoyed her position, telling Snips to speed up several times, as he stopped and whimpered each time he heard a sound from the forest.

As they went right at a crossroads, Apple Bloom brightened even more. She looked to her friends ecstatically as she said, "Gals, ah think we're goin to Zecora's hut!"

Scootaloo nodded. Apple Bloom had brought them this way several times. The hermit always seemed happy to see them, and was kind of nice, even if she was a bit odd. Also, her cakes were delicious. It made sense, actually. If anypony knew about plants and leaves and stuff like that, it was Zecora. Do you say "anypony" about a zebra?, she wondered.

As Apple Bloom had predicted, they soon entered the clearing with the large tree. From behind the hut, they heard singing. It was a strange, yet melodic composition, running up and down scales with made-up words (Maybe. Scootaloo didn't speak Foreign very well.) Sweetie Belle stopped beside Scootaloo, listening for a short while. Then she raised her own sweet voice in song, answering the melody in harmonies

The first voice went silent, and after a brief clatter of tools, the source of it came into sight. The zebra was smiling, but it seemed a bit forced. Scootaloo was used to Zecora radiating calm, but today she noticed tail-twitching and and hesitance.

What is she afraid of?, she thought. Perhaps there was a dangerous creature from deep in the Everfree Forest prowling around? A creature that only the Cutie Mark Crusader Creature Capturers could capture, perhaps?

"Welcome, foals and Cheerilee, to my hut here in the Everfree!"

Most of Scootaloo's classmates stood huddled together behind Cheerilee. Apple Bloom bounced over to Zecora.

"Hey, Zecora! Are ya goin' to help Miss Cheerilee teach us?" she asked, wide-eyed.

Seeing Scootaloo's friend seemed to calm the hermit. She smiled and nodded.

"Indeed I am, my apple flower. I'll show you all a potion's power."

Putting on a theatrical posture, she walked over to the scared colts and fillies and started singing in a forceful, commanding voice.

"Today you'll harvest magic and brew wonder

You'll listen to the whispers in the woods.

You'll see the force of hurricanes and thunder

Pales next to that of dandelions' roots"

The little ponies fearfully cleared a path for her as she walked among them, looking intensely into the eyes of first one, then another.

"The medicines that can be stored in vials

Can cure more ailments than I care to name.

If you can overcome today's hard trials

Your look on life will never be the same!"

She circled around and reached Cheerilee. She brought out a small bottle, uncorked it, and hoofed it to the teacher, as she leaned in on her conspiratorily.

"This flask may grant your limbs inpony power

Or it may cause you to drop dead as stone

Or it may grow you taller than a tower

Or it may liquify your every bone!"

Everypony stood in complete silence. They stared at the two adults, fear or awe chiseled into their faces, holding their breaths in anticipation. Cheerilee whimpered and crouched a bit in front of the large zebra. Slowly, she brought the bottle to her quivering lips, took a deep breath and gulped before turning it bottom up, draining the murky brown liquid.

An explosion of smoke, and the class gasped in unison. Then, after a split second of bewilderment, they burst into laughter.

Cheerilee stood completely unchanged. Unchanged, except for the myriad of shining, brightly blue, green and yellow circles that moved across her usually purple body. They swirled mesmerisingly and made the teacher seem like an equine discoteque light array.

She winked at the class. "Foaled you, did we?"

Zecora laughed heartily, a complete change in attitude, and walked over to a bag resting by her door. She opened it and revealed a clutter of potion vials, flasks, and bottles. Looking the giggling class over, she asked:

"These potions may be slightly silly. Is there a daring colt or filly?"

After the morning's trip, Scootaloo felt especially brave, and she locked eyes with Zecora.

"Daring is my middle name!" she stated and stood forward.

Zecora smiled at her, nodding to... Cheerilee, who smiled back?

"No less expected, Scootaloo; I have a potion just for you." She picked up a glass vial with whirling colours and tossed it to Scootaloo, who caught it in her hooves and uncorked it confidently.

It was as if she could actually taste the colours swirling through her body and settling, with a lemony undertone to it. She eagerly studied her hooves, but her fur seemed completely normal. Turning to look at her friends, she saw a grin on Apple Bloom's face as she said: "Scoots, yer gonna love this un!"

Some familiar colours flickered in the edge of Scootaloo's vision. Her tail. Wait, not her tail. Somepony else’s tail entirely! Streaks of blue, green, yellow, orange, red... She looked back at Zecora, who had produced a mirror. Atop the head of Scootaloo's mirror image was a similar explosion of colours.

"Ohmygoshogmygoshohmygosh!" She bounched around, wings flapping rapidly. A rainbow coloured mane and tail! With her manecut, she looked just like... She squeed as her awesomometer went off the scale.

Some of her classmates gathered around her. Apple Bloom, Sweetie Belle, and Twist agreed that she looked radical, Featherweight asked her to pose for a few photos (to which she graciously obliged), and after a while, she heard Snails exclaim, "I get it! It's like Rainbow Dash!"

Zecora picked up the empty bottle.

"I haven't brewed this in a while - I think it's more your than my style."

Scootaloo tried imagining Zecora with a rainbow coloured mane, but failed utterly.

Apple Bloom was the next who volunteered for a potion. It didn't seem to have any effect. From ears to hooves, she was the same Apple Bloom as before, and Scootaloo felt a bit disappointed.

"Do you feel any different, Apple Bloom?" Sweetie Belle asked.

"Weeeeell," hesitated their friend, "ah do feel a bit... bouncy?"

Testingly, she made a small jump. As she hit the ground, she rebounded instantly, as if she was made of rubber.

"Haaaaaay!" she exclaimed and jumped again, this time higher.

Much, much higher.

Bouncing and rebounding everywhere in the clearing, she was a pony rubber ball.

"It's like trampolines everywhere!" she laughed from up there - wait, down there - wait, up there. Scootaloo got dizzy trying to follow her even-bouncier-than-usual friend.

"It sounds untrue, but I will swear I learned this potion from a bear!"

Soon, the clearing was filled with laughing foals in different colours, shapes, and sizes. The only ones to not partake in the potions were Diamond Tiara, who looked at the spectacle with disdain, and Silver Spoon, who was at her friend's side as always, but whose attitude was ruined by a sniffle. After Zecora had hoofed out most of the potions, she looked at the ones remaining in her bag, then did a head count of the pupils. After discovering the pair, she went over to them with a friendly smile.

"You two fillies over there; would you like to have a share?" she asked.

Diamond Tiara rolled her eyes. "Plu-ease! This is so foalish! It's, like, totally uncool."

"fn-Yeah," sniffled Silver Spoon, "hnot chool at all! Lhike... rhight!" Scootaloo silently mused over the feverish co-bully's inability to think up an insult.

Zecora walked over to them, brow furrowed. Oh, this is going to be good, Scootaloo thought.

"Do you know what I disdain?" Yeah, Zecora, take 'em down! "A running nose and head in pain." Damn!

Smiling, the herbalist, said "I have something on my shelf that can help you help yourself," and left for her hut. She came back with a green book that she presented to Silver Spoon.

Diamond Tiara snatched it and read the title aloud, "Supernaturals! Oh, get real." She threw the book on the ground in disgust, without any respect for Zecora's belongings.

The zebra continued, unfazed. She flipped the book open and pointed.

"This potion must be brewed at noon," she looked to the sun, still an hour to its zenith, "stirred slowly with a silver spoon." She motioned the the filly's eponymous cutie mark.

Silver Spoon studied the book, ignoring her friend's rolling eyes. "Do you tshink I can brew this? I khnow mosth of the herbsh in here, but I've never heard of tshose..." She put a hoof to the page.

"For a picture of greentusk, I know where to look - page seventy-five in your biology book."

Seeing Silver Spoon browse through the class biology book, Scootaloo considered her own very unused copy and had an idea. Approaching Zecora as casually as possible, she asked the zebra:

"Hey, Zecora. I just wondered... You know, this rainbow mane potion of yours... You wouldn't happen to have a recipe for that lying around? I- I mean, since I am here anyway and all, I guess it wouldn't hurt to have a sneak peek..."

"The Polychrome I know by heart, You’ll need these leaves to even start." Zecora pulled out a list from her saddlebags. It sort of looked like a grocery list, but most of the names were weird and unfamiliar. That didn't discourage Scootaloo, though, because if her suspicion was right...

"I guess I can find the flowers in this book?" She produced her schoolbook with a first-time interest in the thing.

Zecora merely smiled and nodded, before diverting her attention to Featherweight, who had some question as well, holding his own book eagerly.

Scootaloo flipped through the pages. That was a lot of names, and everything looked alike - all green and leafy. This was going to be difficult. Hey, hadn't Apple Bloom done well on her assignment? Maybe she could give her some pointers...

Author's Notes:

Edited by the helpful Feo Takahari.

Tell me, and I will forget.
Show me and I may remember.
Involve me, and I will understand.
Step back, and I will take action.

The teaching principle on Odense Fagskole, where I taught mathematics.The first three lines are generally attributed Confucius.

Suns

Lemon balm, black ceylon, a drop of eucalyptus oil.

It was a simple infusion, fitting for her uncomplicated happiness, Zecora felt. She didn’t want to analyse it, just let it flow through her in the morning sun.

She was basking in its glory on her “lawn” - the moss-filled glade in front of her tree. There was a withered spot from the day before, where Silver Spoon had tipped over her cauldron in surprise when her elixir brought to life an explosion of colours. Zecora’s satisfied smile widened at the thought. She had had hopes for the filly’s abilities from her cutie mark, but the fairy fire explosion surpassed even those. It had been beautiful. The potion may have gone to waste, but she was confident that little Miss Spoon could recreate it without trouble. Was she a friend of Apple Bloom?, Zecora wondered.

She probably was. On this wonderful day, everypony was probably friends. Zecora rolled over to let the sun warm her belly and sighed with delight.

Morning made way for noon, and Zecora started to feel her sunwarm stomach rumble. Perhaps she should treat herself to a bite at Sugarcube Corner? While the day before had truly left her exhausted, those little ones had sparked a hunger for being around ponies that she thought she had long lost. She needed - nay, craved - hearing idle chatter and seeing ponies walk by, and the woods began to feel unusually lonely.

---

As she exited the forest, Zecora paused to consider. By force of habit, she had donned her travelling cloak before leaving home, but did she really need it? The weather was warm enough, but more importantly, did she need the protection? The cloak was as much a shield from unfriendly stares as from the cool, windy Equestrian climate. Having her hood up provided her with comfort, but Rarity had many times berated her that it made her look unapproachable - often while levitating a pair of scissors dangerously close to the fabric. That wouldn’t do. This day, she was going into town as Zecora, not Zecora, that strange zebra, and while the irony of becoming less strange by revealing her striped body was not lost on her, she loosened the clasp on the cloak and let it slide off her back. She hung it on a conveniently protruding branch and left it behind her, walking into the sunny town, head held high.

On her way to the café, she passed the spa, where Aloe was hanging out towels for drying.

“Good day, mademoiselle Zecora! You look simply magnifique today!”

Zecora smiled back, flattered: “Sweet Aloe, I say likewise: you’re ever pleasing to the eyes.”

“Oh, I can only try, mon chéri. Thank you again for the nettle balm recipe. It has truly done wonders on some of the clients’ manes.”

Further down the road Zecora met the mailmare. The grey pegasus was trying to mash an oblong package into a slightly too small post box.

“Hi Zecora! I’ve got something for you.” She dug into her saddlebags and produced a small stack of letters, which she hoofed the zebra. Then, almost as an afterthought, she topped them with a muffin.

“Have a nice day!” she said as she returned her focus to the problematic parcel.

“Likewise, Miss Hooves, And now with this,” Zecora replied, nibbling happily on the spongy blueberry treat, “my day will sure be utter bliss.”

As delicious as the muffin was, she put in in her saddlebag along with the letters. Lunch first, and then you can partake, her mother’s voice resounded in the back of her head, in cookies, tea, and lovely cake.

Yes, Mother, but cake so very fine, in the end you will be mine, she retorted gleefully as she trotted off to Sugarcube Corner, for once oblivious to the long stares that some ponies sent her.

---

The door chime’s high-pitched ring announced her entrance, and Mrs. Cake came out from the bakery, face white with flour.

“My... Hello Zecora,” she said, slightly taken aback “Can I help you?”

“Yes, please. A dumpling dish with hay, some apple juice,” she blushed, glancing at a young couple sharing a delicious-looking bowl of ice cream, “and a parfait.”

Cake AND ice cream? Oh my dear! You know it goes right to your rear, her mother’s voice berated her silently. Mrs. Cake, on the other hoof, just wrote it down and looked quickly around in the half-filled café, while her husband walked around, sweeping the floor.

“That’ll be nine bits, please... Ehh. It’s lovely weather - why don’t you take a table outside? I’ll come out with your order as soon as it’s finished.”

With the large windows, the interior of the Sugarcube Corner was well-lit and warm, but it truly was sun-basking weather, so Zecora didn’t think much of the suggestion as she walked back outside to find a seat.

Most of the tables outside were taken, but as Zecora looked around, two mares - one with a wide-brimmed hat and both wearing heavy make-up - stood up hurriedly and left in a trot. Perfect, she smiled, and took a seat at the newly vacated table in the corner.

It was indeed perfect. A spot in the sun, shielded from the breeze by a rose bush with a delightful scent. From here, she could see the ponies walking by and listen in on their chatting without feeling intrusive. The general murmur walled a pleasant acoustic room in which snippets of conversation took their turn in the spotlight.

“...But that’s neither here nor there. So I said to her...”

“... Lyra, by the sound of it.”

“... I thought I would never see him without that yoke. It felt kind of ... embarrassing, really...”

“They were definitely together on Hearts and Hooves Day...”

“Have you seen the Cakes’ adorable little newborns? They are simply... squee!”

“... Blue. It was blue. Right there in my backyard!”

“Here you gho, Mith Thecora.”

Startled, Zecora turned to her left and nearly knocked the tray out of Mrs. Cake’s mouth.

“Oh, I’m sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you!” Mrs Cake said once she had put down the tray. “Now enjoy it while it is hot!” She hurried back into the bakery.

Since the ponies had started accepting her into town, Zecora had only been at Sugarcube Corner a few times - always with Twilight and her friends, but she remembered the crispy taste of the café’s excellent hay fries (and the curious looks Pinkie Pie for some reason threw her when she ate them), so as soon as she had nodded her thanks to the baker, she turned her complete attention to her dish.

The dumplings were small, spicy fireworks contrasting the fresh taste of the mashed peas. With the crisp fried hay, the dish spoke to every part of her gustatory system, and she was so completely engulfed in the experience that she didn’t notice that some of the tables around her were quietly vacated. So much greater her surprise when she raised her head at a stiff “Miss Zecora!” and saw that in lieu of the café guests there was now a small gathering in front of her, staring at her with expressions ranging from wariness to utter hostility.

The two mares that had left the table when she arrived were leading the group, and the one with the hat - a slender grey earth pony with a jewel ring cutie mark - had been the one speaking.

“Miss Zecora, I hear from my daughter that you were guest teacher for their class yesterday.” The mare’s smile didn’t reach her eyes, and was contrasted - contorted - by the acidic tone of her voice.

“Yes, I had that pleasant task. May I hear…” Zecora began, but the mare cut her short:

“Is it also true that you let our colts and fillies brew dangerous magical potions from the herbs in the Everfree Forest and drink them?” The mare took a step forward, bringing her uncomfortably far into Zecora’s personal space.

“Well, dangerous they hardly were, I had my eye on them, dear mare.”

“Your eye?!” The mare took another step, and Zecora had to back out of her seat to not be poked in the head with the brim of her hat. “You had our precious youth drinking Celestia-knows-what poisonous concoctions for their amusement? My dear little Silver Spoon came home with a wad of horrible smelling leaves and asked if she could stay at home today to mix them into some foul elixir you had claimed could help her head cold! If she’s too ill to go to school, she should be in her bed, not playing a savage potion maker with suspicious weeds!”

“And Diamond Tiara told me that the others had their bodies transformed in grotesque ways, just for the fun of it!” the second mare added. The more they spoke, the more their entourage got riled up.

“What if something had gone wrong? What if they had stayed deformed, or become poisoned? What gives you the right to play with our children’s lives like that?”

As she wore on, passers-by stopped to see what the commotion was about, filling the scene with more and more ponies. Their staring eyes made Zecora’s spine and legs tremble.

“Listen, please, there was no threat! There’s no need to be upset! I only let your children touch potions that one cannot botch! I swear to you, upon my soul. no harm could come to any foal,” she stated loudly, trying to get through to the mares, who hardly let her get a hoof to the ground before they attacked again.

“No harm? Those potions were clearly unnatural! Who knows what horrible zebra rituals they are part of? Oh, yes, it’s all fun and games now, and when you have their trust, you teach them something more of your perverse culture. And then the hexes and witchcraft begin! I will not have my child subjected to your unpony ways! I have heard about you zebras.” The hat-wearing mare turned to the others. “They detest Princess Celestia! In their dark caves, they hold ceremonies where they curse Her sun and pray for the return of Nightmare Moon!”

What? Zecora was so taken aback that she could hardly stammer “‘T-tis a lie! We never…” but her protest was drowned in another pony, an elderly stallion, stomping in the ground.

“Yes, they pray to the stars - the very stars that aided Nightmare Moon in her escape! I saw one do it once! Didn’t understand a word of his gibberish, but he sat up all night praying to the lights in the sky!”

Zecora’s trembling hooves started to canter in place. These ponies were crazy! She didn’t even know where to start explaining, and she had a feeling that they wouldn’t care anyways. The indecipherable murmur from the ponies in the background no longer seemed comforting, but rather intimidating, threatening. What were they saying that she couldn’t hear? Were they gossiping about the stranger, the alien in their midst? What unkind words of ignorance were they sharing? Was there even one-

A shattering sound brought everypony’s attention to the café entrance, where Mrs. Cake had just exited the door, dropping a tall glass of ice cream to the ground in surprise.

The sudden noise triggered Zecora’s panic, sending her leaping over the rose bushes, away from the café.

She heard the ponies yell angrily, but didn’t halt to see if they were following her. In a gallop, she headed straight to the only safe haven she knew: back into the Everfree Forest. Her hooves thundered beneath her and her mind nearly blanked, the only thought going through her head being that of escape.

She slalomed around the ponies on her way, only barely dodging some and causing others to jump to the side as they cried out in surprise or insult. The sounds they gave off made no sense to the frightened zebra, and she stopped registering them as beings - they were only obstacles on her way to safety. Pastel coloured obstacles with erratic movement and abrupt, nonsensical sounds. They were everywhere. On the ground, in the sky, behind her, ahead of her, everywhere. She leaped over the last one, her heartbeat thundering in her ears, no more than a wild animal fleeing into the protection of the thick underbrush of the forest.

Further and further she ran. The green roof above her, becoming thicker and thicker, would shield her from attacks from above. The tree trunks, bushes, and underbrush would camouflage her from land-bound predators. Her stripes would make her disappear amongst their branches and twigs. Her nostrils flared, leading her towards a great patch of red mint. She threw herself to the ground amongst the leaves, hiding in its sharp scent. Noone could find her here. No roc, griffon, or dragon could drop upon her. No manticore, chimera, or lion would scout her out. No snake, hellhound, or timberwolf would catch her scent. No…

What was she hiding from, again?

Her mind slowly returned, wresting control from her primal instincts, forcing control over her breath, calming her pumping blood. She nearly passed out from the dizziness that overtook her, seeing black spots in her hiding place of greens and reds.

Ponies. She had been fleeing from ponies. Not exactly the day she had hoped for in the morning. It had been her own fault, really. She had been too hasty. A single pleasant day could not turn her into a socialite, nor would it erase the stripes on her skin. Stripes that would forever set her apart from the ponies around her. She still wasn’t ready for facing hatred and ignorance such as today’s. Who could ever be? It was a fool’s errand, after all. To be accepted, would she have to dye her coat and hide her tail? Should she move to another town, always wearing her coat, hiding her legs with socks, and putting on so heavy makeup that nopony would notice her markings or eye shape? It would be impossible. Being among the foals had felt so right, but wanting more had been a vain craving. She should have stuck with the tidbit of happiness, and none of this would have happened. Perhaps she didn’t deserve more. Perhaps…

Her rumbling stomach interrupted her train of thought. She hadn’t even had more than a few bites of her lunch either.

Another source of food occurred to her. The muffin. The muffin from the mailmare. She had anticipated eating it by the lake, enjoying it bite by bite in the afternoon. Now she wolfed it down as a savage.

It did its job, however, and the lingering taste reminded her of the kind smile on the mailmare’s muzzle. Perhaps not everypony was against her.

The thought made her feel guilty. Miss Hooves, Aloe, Twilight Sparkle, Pinkie Pie, Applejack, Fluttershy, Rainbow Dash, Rarity, Cheerilee, Apple Bloom. So many ponies who had treated her kindly. So many ponies, and she couldn’t bother to be thankful? Was she greedy?Was she wanting more than was her right? If she had been feeling bad before, this new revelation made her feel downright abysmal. Was she scorning what good had come her way? Ungrateful, egoistic zebra! She threw her saddlebag to the ground in anger with herself.

A hoofful of letters fluttered out.

Oh, yes. The kind mailmare with the unusual eyes had given her more than a muffin. How could she forget? Self-pitying, egocentric zebra! She flipped the first letter.

A birthday party invitation. From Cheerilee. Oh. It was the teacher’s birthday tomorrow? She couldn’t. She couldn’t face ponies again so soon. She grabbed another letter. Apple Bloom’s distinctive mouthwriting was instantly recognisable, though the spelling was much better than usual.

“Dear Zecora,” it read.

“Happy birthday, and thank you so much for all that you have done for me. I hope that you will have an awesome day with lots of cake and presents.

Lots of love,

Apple Bloom.”

Zecora blinked. So many emotions raged a war inside her. It was her birthday? She supposed it was, now she thought of it. How had the filly known? How could such a sweet letter make her feel so sad? How could such a zebra be worthy of such a sweet letter? How could she forget Apple Bloom? How could she dare to question whether or not she was liked, when such an adorable little ribboned sweetie existed and brightened her life? She opened another letter. A birthday card from Twilight Sparkle and Spike. Another. A birthday card from Rarity. Pinkie Pie. Applejack. Fluttershy. Rainbow Dash…

---

She looked up. How long had she been crying? Some of the cards were soggy, and her eyes felt dried up. She wasn’t sure what to feel, couldn’t put names on the emotions running through her. There was some kind of happiness in there, but also guilt and sadness. She packed the cards into her saddlebag and started to wander. With her knowledge of the forest, she soon found her way home. Hesitantly, she walked towards her elm, mind emptied from weariness. She put her hoof on the handle and opened the door…

“SURPRISE!”

The yelling voices, the lights flashing on, the popping sound of a blue party cannon engulfing her in confetti. Zecora felt another panic attack coming on, but she was too tired. Too tired to be scared. All she could manage was “startled” and “bewildered.”

“Ohmygosh I am so happy to see you Mrs Cake told me that those nasty nastypants had riled you up and that you had run into the forest and we tried to find you but you were gone and we decided to come to your house and move the party here instead of prepping up Sugarcube Corner but you weren’t here either but then we had time to put up streamers and balloons so it wasn’t all bad but we are still so very sorry and the Cakes banned those two meanies from Sugarcube Corner but this is your birthday so we shouldn’t be talking about sad stuff so how about a cookie instead I think I got them right this time.” Pinkie Pie stuffed a hoofful of cookies into Zecora’s open mouth.

Chocolate, hazel, orange. She hadn’t had Unrhymeables since… since her last birthday at her parents’ house. If she had had any more tears left, she would have cried again.

“Huh? You don’t look too well. Did I do something wrong? Was there too much orange? Not enough orange? I tried to follow the recipe in Stripes and Sugar, but it was reeeally fuzzy on the orange part…”

Zecora pulled the pink blabbermouth into a tight hug.

“They are perfect, Pinkie, dear. They taste as were my mother here.” She planted a kiss on the party pony’s forehead and winked away a single tear.

Soft hooves were laid around her, and Twilight Sparkle, then Apple Bloom, then Applejack, then everypony else joined the hug, turning it into a large multicoloured mass of ponies. So many ponies. Zecora recognised most of them, but there were even a couple she had never talked to as well as a pegasus she hadn’t seen before.

“Happy birthday,” Twilight Sparkle said softly, and was echoed by the many ponies around her.

The group hug broke up into a path to a table where a heap of presents had amassed. Zecora’s eyes widened at the sight and looked back to the assembled ponies, about to protest, but she saw in their eager faces the desire to watch her unwrap, and thus smiled and grabbed the first one.

It was soft, in a shiny double-faced silver and gold paper folded at the edges to create artful bands around the package at an angle. She didn’t have to look at the gold-rimmed card bound to the broad silken tape around the waist of the gift to guess which pearly-white unicorn it was from.

She opened it slowly in fear of damaging the beautiful wrapping. The fabric that emerged was even more dazzling than the paper - a purple shiny silk with inlaid flower patterns in the same colour, but dim, until she tilted it in the light, and the dim parts became shiny and the shiny parts dim. The effect mesmerised her, and she stood for a time merely moving the cloth in her forehoves ever so gently, before realising that she had only seen one side of the folded beauty. Carefully, almost reverently, she let it unfurl to a blanket cape. It had a soft, thick, but lightweight lining - probably wool, she guessed - lined with yet another layer of the smooth, mysterious fabric. This one was dark golden with thin longitudinal stripes. It wrapped around at the neck, but not into a hood as her cloak did. Rather, it was a fold that became broader at the middle and thinned against the chest where it could be closed with a silver hook and eye in a leaf motif.

After staring at it for a while, she turned to Rarity. The fashionista was near bursting with nervosity. Zecora slid on the perfectly-fitting cape and locked it. She smiled her most grateful smile to the unicorn.

“It is so beautiful, my dear. And such a dream it is to wear!”

At that, Rarity actually did burst. Not with excitement, but with glee. She cantered around Zecora, inspecting her hoofwork.

“I am so delighted that you think so, darling! It was rather a chance, using brocade satin against your stripes rather than a plain fabric, I admit; but those marvelous contrasts in your fur demanded that I accent them with something just as stylish and alluring. Your old cloak was much too crude, I must say. It made you look so drab and bulky, but this creation complements (and compliments, if I dare say) your natural beauty. Those long, slender legs of yours should be framed, not hidden!”

Blushing from the compliments, Zecora heard Fluttershy’s meek “It really does suit you fabulously. Perhaps I should just…” She trailed off, stepping away from the table and hiding something under her wing.

“Nonsense, dear!” Rarity interrupted. The unicorn trotted around Fluttershy and pushed her towards Zecora. “It will be splendid!”

With her usual hesitance, Fluttershy pulled out the thing. It was another soft package, this one small and unassuming but gently and carefully wrapped in large leaves and bound with vine. Zecora accepted it, and Fluttershy immediately hid her face with her wings and backstepped.

Loosening the single knot let the leaves unfurl like a flower faced with sudden daylight. In the center of the petals lay a tightly rolled woolen scarf. It was a broad purple cable knit with golden orange edges, slightly brighter in colour than the cape, but clearly coordinated with it. The knitting, Zecora realised, was based off a Zebrabwean Coltic knot pattern, but faded into the less ornate climbing cable style Fluttershy usually worked with. The transition between the two was so gradual that she could hardly tell where one ended and the other started, a gesture not lost on the zebra - no, the striped pony - no, Zecora, who was both the one and the other. She unfurled the long scarf and wrapped the warm, light fabric around her neck. It was soft and felt like love and acceptance. Zecora closed her eyes, enjoying the sensation. She opened them again to pull the pegasus and the unicorn into a hug.

---

There had been so many gifts, all of them beautiful and thoughtful. Apple Bloom had painted a large picture of Zecora’s hut, some of the leaves of the tree drawn in detail, identifiable as elm leaves. After receiving an almost bone-crushing hug, she found a small flask in her saddlebag and hoofed it over to Zecora with an odd silent pout.

It was a crystal vial with a silvery ribbon. Zecora pulled the cork curiously and smiled. The scent of the well-brewed cold medicine was unmistakable.

“I think that leaves only me,” said the white pegasus Zecora didn’t recognise. She had a faint pink mane and a cutie mark of a sun flanked with two tiny clouds. She didn’t introduce herself, but merely hoofed Zecora a flat, heavy, crudely wrapped gift. The paper tore, and the string was off-angle, as if wrapped by a foal or somepony unaccustomed to the task. Through the holes in the paper, Zecora glimpsed glass, so she unwrapped it carefully.

It was a framed glass mosaic. That was Zecora’s first thought. It was old - ancient, even - and crafted in a style, she didn’t even know the name for, but clearly recognisable as Zebrabwean. It portrayed… It portrayed the sun. Shining down on flowers, trees and frolicking zebras, the sun was made with hundreds of tiny pieces of glass and crystal, reflecting the light in the hut as if it shone itself. Such a piece must be from before Nightmare Moon. At least a thousand years old. She stared at the pegasus, mouth agape.

“Glad you like it,” the mare laughed.

"After all, we sun-buns should stick together."

Author's Notes:

Edited by the friendly Feo Takahari.

Epilogue

My dear Princess Celestia, kind ruler of Equestria,
I write to you, my life upturned, of the lesson I have learned.
The few bad seeds, loud as they cry, cannot the many good deny.
Though some may meet me filled with hate, no longer shall they rule my fate.
I will, instead, gain strength from those who will allow me to come close.
I cannot let my life be tragic when it is true: friendship is magic.
From Everfree's embracing flora
I am sincerely yours,
Zecora

Author's Notes:

Edited by the superlative Feo Takahari.

Thank you for your patience and kind words, everybrony. I hope you like the ending.