Rainbow Dash stomped through the Ponyville market, glowering and glaring at everything and everyone, and thoughtfully considered the importance of grounding oneself. Because Rainbow Dash put thoughtful consideration into things all the time, and she made sure to glare at everypony she saw who might dare think otherwise.

A young, fit, snazzy, totally hot, totally smart, definitely-not-a-simpleton could know little for absolute certain among the confusion and disorder of life. Grounding oneself was important. Not literally. That would be terrible. Rainbow Dash glared extra hard at the guy who sold bananas to show him how terrible it would be. Metaphorically or symbolically, or maybe both. They were probably the same thing.

With all the uncertainty in the world, it was important to ground oneself by picking out one thing in all the disorder and confusion that one could know for sure was real. It had to be something utterly, undeniably true. A rock on which one could steady oneself in times of worry and adversity. It had to be the one unchanging principle that defined one’s entire life.

Rainbow Dash’s one life-defining principle was that she was definitely not a barbarous, uncivilized dolt who didn’t know polite conversation from a hippopotamus’s rear end.

Obviously, anyone who said otherwise didn’t know what they were talking about. They would have been laughably wrong. To prove it, Rainbow Dash let out a loud, barking laugh. And then all the ponies around her started giving her weird looks so she shut her mouth and glowered again. Whatever. She had proven her point.

Anyone who genuinely believed it wasn’t laughably wrong must have been a prissy, uptight unicorn who was way too sensitive about things that no one else even cared about.

A bright red bird flew down in front of Rainbow Dash, and she glared at it, too. Songbirds flew and tittered everywhere overhead, enjoying the early spring. The early spring that Rainbow Dash had given them. Sure, some other ponies had helped, but it was Rainbow Dash who had petitioned the mayor for an early spring, and it was Rainbow Dash who had argued with the Central Weather Office to let them do it, and it was Rainbow Dash who had organized the early Winter Wrap Up while Twilight was away. And Rainbow Dash had done it all for Rari—them. The birds. Because Rainbow Dash did stuff for birds sometimes. She was, like, at least half bird, after all.

And what thanks did she get for all her hard work?

Well, a whole lot of thanks, actually. An early spring had earned her an entire evening of personal thanking. The morning after, too. And the night after that.

But not now. One little mistake and the birds instantly forgot all the nice things Rainbow had ever done for them and wrote Rainbow off as an ‘insufferable brute.’ Not that she had even made any mistake. She hadn’t done anything wrong at all. Except do all that work for nothing. Nothing but the worst season of the year. Rainbow Dash hated spring. Spring was dumb, and she glared up at the birds to show them just how dumb it was.

Rainbow Dash hoped it rained all over all of them, ruining all of their dumb spring and tree blossoms and bird songs. One of the worst storms Ponyville had ever seen. That would show them.

Rainbow finally spotted Rose’s market stand among the stalls, and stomped right up to it.

Rose smiled and waved to her. “Hey, Rainbow Dash! This early spring idea is great. I’ve never sold this many bouquets this time of year before. We should do this every year.”

“Don’t count on it.”

“Oh.” Rose’s smile faltered, then returned at full force. “So, can I get you anything?”

“All of them,” Dash said.

Rose’s smile faltered again. “All of them?”

“All of them.”

Rose blinked. “All of what exactly?”

“You sell flowers, don’t you?” Dash asked, gesturing to the shelves of flowers and bouquets on display behind Rose’s back.

“Uh, yeah.”

“Well, I want all of them,” Dash repeated.

Rose scratched her head. “You mean you want all of the flowers?”

“Yes. All of the flowers.”

“Like, every single one?”

“Yes. Every single one.”

Rose bit her lip. “But… that’s a lot of flowers…”

“I want a lot of flowers.” Dash groaned. “That’s why I’m buying all of the flowers.”

Rose still hesitated. “No pony’s ever bought all of them before. I’m not sure if that’s even allowed. It seems like there would be some rule against it.”

“A rule against buying flowers?”

“A rule against buying all the flowers,” Rose corrected.

Rainbow Dash dipped her muzzle into her saddlebag, pulled out her coin purse, and dropped it on the counter with a coin-jingling thud. “I have bits.”

Rose immediately brightened. “You make a compelling argument, ma’am. I’ve come to the decision that there is, in fact, no rule against buying all of the flowers.”

“Whatever. Just give me all the flowers, already.”

“Wait.” Rose frowned again. “Is this for Rarity?”

Rainbow Dash glared at her, and the flowers, and the tittering birds, and at everything else within glare-range. “No.”

Rose didn’t look convinced. “So you’re just buying some flowers because…?”

“Because I like flowers.” Rainbow Dash had always liked flowers. She liked how they smelled, and how they looked, and how they tasted, and how… they still smelled. And whatever else flowers did. Drink water?

Rose peered over the counter at her for a while, before chuckling quietly. “Well, Rarity’s favorites are gardenias. You should get her some of those. I have plenty.”

“I want all of them,” Dash said again. “I don’t care what Rarity likes, because Rarity likes dumb things.”

Rose raised an eyebrow at her.

“Are you gonna sell me all the flowers, or what?”

Rose sighed. “How are you going to carry all of them?”

Rainbow Dash gestured to her saddlebag.

“Do you really think you’re going to fit all of these flowers in that little saddlebag?”

Rainbow Dash looked at the mass of flowers on display behind the counter. Then she looked at her saddlebag. Then she looked at the two ponies who had gotten into line behind her. Then she looked at the flowers. Then she looked at her saddlebag.

“I’ll be back,” Dash said, grabbing her coin purse and stomping back the way she had come before Rose had an opportunity to say anything else, meeting the curious looks of the ponies in line with another icy glare. Because winter was way better than spring. It had sledding and stuff.

Of course Rainbow Dash didn’t think all those flowers would fit into that little saddlebag. That would have been ridiculous. She should have felt insulted that Rose even had the gall to ask. She did feel insulted. She would have to be an idiot to stomp up to the flower stand in the market and demand all of the flowers and only bring one saddlebag to carry them all in. It would have been downright asinine.

Rainbow Dash stomped through Sweet Apple Acres, listening for sounds of hooves striking bark. Spring was especially dumb at Sweet Apple Acres. The apple trees were in bloom, and all around Rainbow Dash, the branches had flared into bursts of pink and white blossoms that drifted in sweet-smelling waves along every cool breeze while twittering songbirds hopped from blossom to blossom. Rainbow Dash couldn’t hear any apple bucking, which was as irritating as it was confusing. Rainbow didn’t know if Applejack had a grudge against trees, maybe for teasing her as a foal or kicking her dog or something, or if there just weren’t many things to do for fun on a farm, but Applejack was always kicking trees. It was like her only hobby. It didn’t seem possible that spring could be so unfathomably dumb that it had actually managed to restrain Applejack’s hindlegs. But it seemed that it had.

Even after she took to the air, all Rainbow Dash saw was a big soup of smelly apple blossoms everywhere she looked. She couldn’t find any Applejacks, smelly or otherwise. So Rainbow Dash flew in increasingly frustrated circles over the orchard, scouring the ground.

After what must have been days, possibly weeks—time seemed to have lost all meaning—Rainbow finally spotted a bit of orange noodle in the orchard soup and immediately dove straight for it.

As she came closer, she saw that the orange noodle was, thankfully, Applejack. And also that Applejack was holding a giant pair of scissors in her hooves and sticking it up into the tree branches. Any other day, Rainbow might have congratulated her friend on making the evolutionary leap from hooves to tools in her quest to mistreat her apple trees in ever-more creative ways. But today, Rainbow Dash just scowled.

Applejack waved when she saw Dash coming. “Howdy, Rainbow!”

Dash landed beside Applejack’s stepping stool and grimaced. “Why aren’t you apple bucking? It took me forever to find you.”

“Not much point in buckin’ ‘em when there aren’t any apples in ‘em,” Applejack said, stepping down from the stool. “We’re only prunin’ the trees today.”

Rainbow Dash looked up into the trees and confirmed that there were, in fact, no apples. Poor Applejack. She must have hated spring even more than Dash did. What was an Applejack without any apples?

Just a Jack, and nobody wanted that.

“I’m sorry for your loss,” Rainbow Dash said solemnly.

“What?”

“Whatever,” Dash said, glaring again. “I need one of your apple carts, and you can’t ask me what it’s for.”

Applejack blinked at her for a long moment, and then a smirk appeared on her face. “Is this about that little spat you had with Rarity last night?”

“No,” Dash answered quickly. “And you aren’t allowed to ask me what it’s for. How do you even know about that?”

“I was there.”

“Whatever,” Dash said again. “Where are the apple carts?”

Applejack started to open her mouth, then hesitated. “Is this you’n hers first fight?”

“Who cares?”

Applejack nodded. “I thought so. I wouldn’t worry about it none. The first one always feels the worst, ‘cause it gets built up to so much, but it’s nothin’ to feel too bad about. Marefriends fight sometimes. It’s just another part of bein’ together. You and Rarity’ll get through it. You’re too good for each other not to.”

“Yeah, well…” Rainbow Dash kicked at the ground. “Thanks.”

“Any time.” Applejack’s smirk returned. “And I thought it was awful cute how hard you worked to get spring in early in time for her birthday. It sure made her happy.”

“I didn’t do it for her,” Dash muttered.

Applejack laughed. “Sure ya didn’t. The apple carts are by the barn. Just make sure you bring it back when you’re done. And good luck.”

“Thanks,” Dash said, turning and jumping into the air. She made sure to get her glower back together as she got away from Applejack.

Applejacks were best, but she decided Jacks could be pretty okay, too.

Rainbow Dash stomped back out of the Ponyville market, now dragging an apple cart full of white flowers behind her, but she had a hard time keeping up the glare.

Rose hadn’t let her buy all of the flowers, even though Rainbow was almost entirely sure there wasn’t any rule against it. Even if there was, it was a stupid rule. And Rainbow Dash didn’t follow stupid rules.

Instead of a cart full of every type of flower, Rainbow Dash pulled a cart full of only one type of flower. Rose had said they were garden… somethings. Their name didn’t matter. Rose had also insisted that garden-somethings were Rarity’s favorite flowers. Rainbow didn’t care what Rarity’s favorite anything was, but she figured Rose probably knew a little more about flowers than she did. Rainbow Dash was a reasonable mare. She listened to other ponies who knew more about certain things than she did. When a waiter recommended the tomato basil because the potatoes had gone bad, Rainbow politely declined and ordered the hay fries anyway. She had a strong stomach. When Rose recommended the garden-somethings, Rainbow Dash argued for a while, realized she didn’t have enough money to actually buy every flower at the stand, and then very reasonably agreed that garden-somethings were the best choice. Rose had even arranged them in neat little bouquets for her.

Glancing back at them, Dash noticed that the garden-somethings looked like Rarity, in a weird, allegorical sort of way. Because Rainbow Dash knew what allegories were, and she stomped extra hard on her next step to prove it. The garden-somethings were nearly pure white, the same as Rarity’s coat, and their petals folded in elegant, precise patterns. They were beautiful, really. Rainbow Dash wondered if Rarity herself had designed them. Everything Rarity designed was beautiful.

Rarity’s dresses fascinated Rainbow Dash. Well, not the dresses, Rainbow didn’t care about dresses, but the act of creating dresses fascinated her. Rainbow’s artistic ability had begun and ended at stick pony drawings. But with nothing more than a little inspiration and some fabric, Rarity created art. Every day, from nothing, Rarity made the world beautiful, and did so with as much confidence and poise as the Wonderbolts performed their shows. Sometimes, Rainbow Dash wished she herself could be as confident while doing stunts as Rarity was while designing dresses.

“It’s really c—” Dash started to say, but turned and realized that she was alone, and shut her mouth again.

The worst part about the garden-somethings was that they smelled just like the flowery perfumes Rarity always wore. Every time Rainbow Dash stopped paying attention, she would smell the flowers and think Rarity was walking beside her, and Dash would turn to say something to her, but find that Rarity wasn’t with her at all. And Rainbow Dash would sigh and begin stomping again, but she just couldn’t work up a good glare anymore.

Rainbow Dash saw Sugarcube Corner in the distance, and considered the importance of grounding oneself again.

On that subject, Rainbow Dash thought of one other life-defining, utterly, undeniably true principle which had guided most, if not every, decision she had ever made. And that life-defining principle was that Rarity was not an uptight, snotty prude who wouldn’t know how to have fun even if it bucked all that makeup off her ridiculously cute face.

Rainbow wouldn’t name any names. Hoof-pointing never got anyone anywhere except sent to the back of the classroom, and then all of her friends wouldn’t play hoofball with her at recess because she was a tattletale. But anyone who said something like that should feel really bad, because it was a mean, unnecessary, untrue, and hurtful thing to say.

For some reason, Rainbow Dash started to feel a little bad.

Rarity was uptight and snotty, but not in an uptight and snotty kind of way. She was uptight and snotty in a classy and self-assured kind of way. Rarity had amazing talent, and she knew she had amazing talent. Anyone who saw Rarity walk or talk could immediately tell how amazingly talented she was. Rainbow Dash really wished she knew how to do that, how to exude confidence with every step, all the time, every second of the day.

Rarity definitely wasn’t a prude, either. Rainbow Dash had conclusively proven that for the first time the night of Rarity’s birthday, when Rarity had thanked her for her birthday present. Rarity did wear a lot of makeup, though, and she had a pretty cute face, too.

Rainbow Dash walked past Sugarcube Corner’s outdoor tables, where at least a dozen ponies sat eating sweets and smiling and enjoying the early spring that Rainbow Dash had given them. Some ponies were so ungrateful, Dash thought, and spat on the ground.

Not those ponies, because they kept smiling and waving to Dash and saying how grateful they felt. But some ponies…

She pushed through Sugarcube Corner’s front door, dragging the cart behind her. It took a while to get the cart through the doorway, but luckily, Rainbow Dash was at least ten times smarter than the average doorway, and after a little straining and a loud scraping sound, they were both inside.

“Rainbow Dash!” Mrs. Cake smiled from her place behind the counter. “I’m so glad you stopped by. This weather is wonderful! We should wrap up winter early every year.”

Rainbow Dash grunted and trotted up to the counter. She didn’t see anyone inside besides Mrs. Cake. She assumed Mr. Cake was in the kitchen, and everyone else must have been eating outside.

Mrs. Cake glanced at the cart, her smile faltering. “And you’ve brought a… wagon into our bakery. And broken the door frame. How… nice. May I ask why you’ve brought a wagon into our bakery?”

“To carry stuff,” Dash answered.

“Of course.” Mrs. Cake nodded, and then smiled again. “What can I get for you, dearie?”

Dash looked down at the shelf beneath the counter. Arranged in neat displays, she saw pies, strudels, eclairs, croissants, macarons, macaroons, cakes, chocolates, sweets, tarts, fudges, cookies, fudgies, cupcakes, donuts, and a dozen other pastries she didn’t know the names of.

“All of them,” Rainbow Dash said.

Mrs. Cake’s smile faltered again. “All of them?”

“All of them.”

“You mean you want a sampler?”

“No,” Dash said. “I mean I want all of them.”

“One of everything?”

“All of everything.”

Mrs. Cake stepped back and squinted at her. “Are you feeling okay, dearie?”

“I’m feeling hungry,” Dash said. “And especially for any of those Hearts and Hooves Day chocolates, if you still have any of those left. Double especially if they’re heart-shaped. I’m feeling really hungry for some hearts.”

“Oh.” Mrs. Cake’s smile returned, and she winked. “This is for Rarity, isn’t it?”

“No,” Dash answered quickly. “They’re for me.”

Mrs. Cake laughed. “Dearie, no pony buys Hearts and Hooves Day candy for themselves.”

“Well, it’s for, um, my chinchilla.”

Of course Rainbow Dash had a chinchilla. His name was Gregory. She had adopted him at a pet store in Canterlot. He was purple, but she hadn’t seen him a few years, so she couldn’t be certain what color he was nowadays. His favorite food was heart-shaped Hearts and Hooves Day candy. It made up nearly his entire diet.

"What’s a chinchilla?” Mrs. Cake asked.

“A carrot-shaped dog.”

Mrs. Cake looked at her very seriously for a long moment.

Rainbow Dash poked at the inside of her cheek with her tongue.

“Well,” Mrs. Cake finally said, “Rarity places an order for cinnamon sfogliatelle pastries once every couple months. She always says they’re a gift to herself. I’m sure she would be happy to receive them as a gift from somepony else for once.”

“I don’t care what Rarity likes,” Dash mumbled.

“I’ll go get started,” Mrs. Cake said, smiling like she knew something Rainbow Dash didn’t. “They take some time to prepare, though, so I hope you don’t mind waiting.”

Rainbow Dash sighed. “No, I guess not.”

Mrs. Cake nodded and headed towards the kitchen door.

“Wait,” Dash said.

“Yes?” Mrs. Cake asked.

Rainbow Dash prodded one of the garden-something bouquets. “Thanks.”

“It’s no problem, dearie,” Mrs. Cake replied, smiling and trotting into the kitchen.

Rainbow Dash unhitched herself from the cart, sat down in a chair, and wondered what a sfogliatelle was. It sounded more like an alien species than a kind of food. Maybe it was aliens. Cooked in batter and dipped in chocolate. Rainbow started to feel a little excited. She had never eaten an alien before.

Rainbow Dash headed in the direction of the Princess Jewelry Store, but she found she couldn’t stomp anymore, either. She figured it was because her cart was heavier now. It was a lot of work to stomp and glare and pull a heavy cart all at the same time. Mrs. Cake had wrapped about a dozen of the pastries up and tucked them in between the bouquets. To Rainbow’s disappointment, the sfogliatelles weren’t slimy alien flesh dipped in chocolate. Instead, they were just big, doughy, seashell-shaped… dough things. They were expensive, though, and Mrs. Cake said only a few ponies in the whole town ever ordered them. Rainbow Dash would have tried one, but she stopped herself. They weren’t for her.

Rarity never used seashells in her dresses, because she said they were tacky. But she used them in her food? Rainbow wasn’t entirely sure what Rarity meant by ‘tacky,’ but it didn’t sound appetizing. Not the way Rarity said it. And Rarity’s voice could make anything sound appetizing. Rainbow Dash imagined Rarity saying weird things to her, like ‘grilled cheese’ and ‘giraffe,’ in that singsong, laughing, flirty way she did. Suddenly, Rainbow Dash really wanted to eat some grilled cheese and giraffe.

As Rainbow Dash not-stomped down the street, she saw dozens of couples out together. It seemed like everypony she saw had somepony else to be with. They all skipped about, nuzzling and kissing, and walking close together, and telling each other jokes, and laughing, and listening to the birdsongs, and relaxing in the sunshine. All right in front of Dash’s face, too, like they didn’t even care if she saw.

Rainbow Dash scowled. No cart was heavy enough to keep her from scowling.

She hadn’t brought those birdsongs and that sunshine in with the early spring for them. She had brought it all for her and Rarity, and no one else. If she and Rarity didn’t get to enjoy them together, no one else should, either. It should have been common courtesy. Would they have eaten another pony’s birthday cake if that pony had choked and died on a grilled cheese sandwich before she had a chance to try any of the cake? That would have been sick. But Rainbow could tell none of them would stop and go back inside anytime soon, no matter how rude or sick it was, and she wished she had somepony to walk with her, too.

She began to pretend Rarity was with her. With those perfume-smelling garden-somethings, she could almost convince herself that Rarity really was nearby, just so long as she never turned her head to look. She pretended that she and Rarity could talk and joke together like they usually did, like they had never had any fight at all. Occasionally, she even pretended to give Rarity little nuzzles when no one was looking. And maybe a couple tiny kisses, too. Extra tiny ones. They were barely even kisses, really.

As she played pretend, Rainbow Dash realized a third and final defining principle of her entire life. This final defining principle was that she definitely shouldn’t have told everypony that she and Rarity had slept together, especially since Rarity had specifically asked her not to say anything about it to anyone, because they had only been dating for a couple of weeks and Rarity said she didn’t want anyone to think she was ‘that kind of mare.’

Rainbow Dash didn’t know what kind of a mare ‘that kind of mare’ was, but evidently both she and Rarity were exactly that kind of mare, because they had slept together. If both she and Rarity were that kind of mare, Rainbow thought that kind of mare must have been an awesome kind of mare to be, because she and Rarity were both awesome. But Rarity didn’t think that kind of mare was awesome, and Rainbow Dash knew she should have respected that.

Rainbow also knew that she shouldn’t have said it in front of all of their friends. And Rarity’s parents. And Sweetie Belle. All at the same time during that dinner Rarity had organized and prepared and cooked for all of them. Rarity had worked hard to make that dinner perfect, and it actually had been perfect, right up until Rainbow Dash opened her mouth.

More than anything else, though, Rainbow knew that she shouldn’t have gone into specific details about the activities she and Rarity had performed together. The accompanying sound effects Dash had provided to liven up her descriptions had just been overkill, too.

It wasn’t like Rainbow Dash did it on purpos—

Well, no. That wasn’t true. Rainbow had purposefully meant to tell everyone that night at dinner, and she had purposefully planned to make sure it was the very first thing she said. She had even purposefully prepared most of those sound effects in advance. It had all very much been done on purpose.

Why wouldn’t Rainbow Dash want everyone to know what she and Rarity had done together? Rainbow wanted to tell as many ponies as possible. She wanted to write it in cloud letters in the sky. Because she was dating Rarity! She was dating the hottest, smartest, most talented mare in all of Ponyville. Probably in all of Equestria. And now, for the first time Rainbow Dash knew that they were dating for real, instead of just playing around. Because it was hard to tell when friends stopped and marefriends started, but she did know that friends definitely stopped at the bedroom door.

Rarity didn’t date just anyone, either. She had standards. And somehow, of all ponies, Rainbow Dash met those standards! It hadn’t even been a one night fling. They had been dating for weeks. Rainbow met Rarity’s standards so well that Rarity had even slept with her. Rainbow thought it might have been the most exciting thing that had ever happened to her. Of course Rainbow Dash would tell everyone she knew the next day exactly what had happened the night before, and prepare sound effects to go along with it. Just like she did with every new stunt she learned, and this was better than any silly little stunt.

But Rarity had asked her not to, and that meant Rainbow Dash shouldn’t have.

Rainbow Dash sighed and dragged her cart forward. She couldn’t even scowl anymore.

“You cannot afford all of them,” the snooty stallion working behind the counter at the Princess Jewelry Store said. Rainbow Dash could tell he was snooty because he wore a tie, and only snooty stallions wore ties. Rainbow hated snooty stallions. Except Rarity. And she wasn’t even a stallion.

“And carts aren’t allowed in the store,” he added with a snooty stallion snort.

“Well, it’s already in here.” Rainbow Dash gestured to the glass cases filled with sparkling necklaces and bracelets and earrings all around her. “And I can afford all of them, so start loading ‘em up.”

“I can absolutely assure you that you cannot.”

“I’m friends with, like, every princess ever,” Dash said. “How about I call them up and ask them all to come here and turn your stupid little store into an even stupider little hole?”

He leveled her with an even stare. “Yes. Why don’t you do that? Feel free to take your time.”

“I will!” she cried.

“I’ll wait,” he said.

Rainbow Dash glared at him and seriously considered if she could get one of the Princesses to explode the jewelry store. Probably not. They definitely owed her at least one favor, though. Maybe Princess Luna could just rough him up a little until he agreed to give Dash all of his jewelry. Did Royal Princess Favors include assault and robbery?

“Well,” he said, covering a yawn with his hoof, “aren’t you going to go call your princess friends?”

“Don’t you know who I am?” Dash asked.

“Certainly not.”

“Haven’t you ever looked at a newspaper? Because I’m definitely in those.”

He wrinkled his nose as if Dash had suggested he go dunk his head in a rain puddle. “I don’t read newspapers. They’re filthy publications written by filthy commoners about nothing but common filth. It is no great honor to associate oneself with a newspaper.”

Rainbow Dash rolled her eyes. “Whatever. I’ve got bits and places to be, so hurry up and start putting shiny stuff in the cart.”

“You have bits, do you?” Snooty Stallion asked, laughing quietly and pointing to a particularly sparkly necklace underneath the glass. “How much do you think this necklace costs?”

Rainbow Dash peered into the glass. The necklace he had pointed to looked like it was large enough to cover a pony’s entire chest. It was more of a shirt than a necklace. Diamonds made up every inch of it, and it was layered so that even more diamonds shimmered under the ones on top, like lights shining both on and underneath a lake’s surface on an already starry night. It was probably heavy. Rainbow Dash imagined trying to fly while wearing it. It might have made for a good workout. To build up endurance, maybe. “One hundred bits?” she guessed.

“Eighteen thousand.” Snooty Stallion laughed his quiet, snooty laugh again. “Now, do you still believe you have enough bits to buy every item in the store? Do you have enough even for this one necklace?”

“Why do you even have something that expensive?” Dash asked. “When is anypony ever going to buy that?”

His laugh turned into a sneer. “Perhaps if anypony with class ever visits this town. Now, do you have the bits? Would you like to check your bank account first?”

“Ponyville has a bank?”

“Do you have the bits or not?”

“No,” Rainbow Dash admitted. She sighed and dropped her coin purse on the counter. “What can I get for this? I have to get something, even if it’s small.”

Snooty Stallion snorted again as he counted her bits. “If this is all you have, you’ll only be able to afford the items with imperfections. We keep them over there.”

He pointed behind her, and Rainbow Dash turned to see a glass case sitting behind the door, smaller than all the others. Rainbow Dash trotted up to it and examined the jewelry inside. Rainbow saw reds and blues and greens and purples and oranges, on necklaces and earrings and bracelets. Many of them looked misshapen or broken. Rainbow didn’t have any idea what made a piece of jewelry good, and she had even less of an idea what made one necklace better than another bracelet, and she had even less of an idea than that which ones a mare would be happy to receive as a gift. She had lucked out with Rose and Mrs. Cake. Those two both already knew what Dash should get, but this time she was on her own.

Just as she turned to give up, one of the necklaces caught her eye. It was a small, warped sapphire hanging from a simple silver chain. But the sapphire looked so much like Rarity’s eyes that Rainbow Dash felt a little less lonely while looking at it. She didn’t know anything about jewelry, but she would have liked to have it around. Maybe someone else would, too.

She tapped her hoof on the glass and pointed to the sapphire necklace. “I’ll take this one.”

“An excellent choice,” Snooty Stallion said, smiling for the first time.