Above the center of the town of Ponyville, there was a cloud. And from the side of this cloud dangled a tail. A rainbow coloured tail. The tail was attached to a napping blue pegasus. The napping blue pegasus was nestled into the cloud, snoring peacefully, having a late nap as the afternoon now transitioned into evening.

Pegasi, always above everything and everypony, always looking down on everypony below them. The napping blue pegasus was the embodiment with everything that one pony believed was wrong with the pegasus tribe.

And that pony’s name was Filthy Rich.

Pegasi are brutes. Lazy brutes who contribute nothing to society and who once stole food from us hard working earth ponies. How hard could it be to manage the weather? They do so little and take so much. My taxes pay for the weather team and all they ever do is nap.

Filthy Rich fumed as he stared upward at the rainbow coloured tail, and he internally debated with himself about lecturing the lazy layabout pegasus. Against his own better judgment, he bit his tongue and went home, making plans to tell his filly Diamond Tiara in great detail everything that was wrong in the world, hoping to make her see just how important it was for her to stand up for herself and never once give in to the world that was going to try and shake her down for everything she was worth.

The exhausted Rainbow Dash was taking a well-deserved nap on a cloud, having just finished mapping the area for the upcoming scheduled rainstorm. She had to take note of the dry patches of soil, the moist patches of soil, and the so so patches of earth and soil, observe for flags left out by hopeful farmers needing rain, and check the levels of various ponds and places where runoff went.

All of this mapping culminated with a trip to the upper level atmosphere, an extremely high altitude, which took a great deal of effort, and Rainbow Dash had to do it almost daily, to monitor everything in a wide radius around Ponyville.

The flight was exhausting, as Rainbow Dash had short wings. She had to actually fly up to where she needed to be, she couldn’t glide up there on updrafts and rising currents, conserving energy. No, it was all active effort, and it required thousands and thousands of calories every day to keep her body fueled. It was also tiring.

And that was only one of her dozens of duties as the weather captain. Rainbow Dash frequently spent her days in a state of near exhaustion, sometimes struggling to keep her eyes open through her many daily tasks.

The occasional nap kept her safe and allowed her to do her job, which was unbelievably complex. And then ponies like Filthy Rich had the audacity to lecture her on occasion for napping on a cloud.

Those groundpounding numbskulls had no idea how good they had it, their lives were unbelievably easy. They didn’t have to have to work all that hard at anything, and were kept safe by the pegasi watching over them. A little gratitude once in a while might be nice.

Sweet potatoes were perhaps Dinky’s most favouritest food ever. She was already feeling kinda full, but she managed to spoon in a few more bites of the buttery sweet potato on her plate. While butterscotch pudding was a tempting dessert, sweet potatoes were the greatest thing ever.

The little unicorn foal felt like she was going to pop at any moment.

Feeling very satisfied, Dinky rubbed her belly and let out a small belch.

“Dinky Doo Hooves!” Where are your manners?” Derpy demanded.

Dinky hung her head guiltily, still rubbing her belly, now feeling very, very ashamed of herself. She was almost certain that she didn’t need to wonder if she had room for dessert. Her mother was glaring at her fiercely, one eye narrowed and focused; the other eye winked shut so Derpy could get her good eye to see clearly.

Dinky took a deep breath, and then another, feeling all of the pressure of the day, and everything that had happened, and felt the dreadful urge to cry again. She struggled, knowing that she had to make this right somehow, her mother was really angry right now.

“BRRRRRRRAAAAAAURGURGLEGRAAAAAAAAAP!”

Dinky Doo Hooves had to reach in deep and really go for the gusto to make up for her earlier blunder. She had opened her mouth wide, as wide as possible, and even allowed her tongue to dangle out as she belched. The noise was extra resonant and gurgly, and her artistic resonations and the subtle rise and fall in pitch showed that she really appreciated her mother’s efforts.

Sparkler giggled behind her hoof.

“Apology accepted,” Derpy acquiesced, not certain that Dinky had really made her best effort. She had heard better from Dinky. It was a constant struggle, trying to get Dinky to learn good table manners. The little unicorn foal kept letting out the most half-hearted burps and farts, and Derpy quietly wondered if Dinky was reaching some stage of rebellion common during foal hood and the early stages of growth and development.

Her adopted daughter Sparkler on the other hoof, was no slouch. She had been raised by earth ponies. And while earth ponies had different table manners than pegasi, they found humour in bodily functions, and appreciated a good belch or a ripping bit of flatulence. For Sparkler, the transition in table manners had been stunningly easy. Sparkler’s earlier belch was almost deafening.

“Mother,” said Sparkler, pushing her plate away and looking her mother in the eye. “I am a very confused filly right now. I chased a colt today. I saw him with Apple Cobbler and sort of freaked out. I told him that I wasn’t interested in him but seeing him with her made me go nuts. And I really don’t want to get involved with a colt because of what happened to you,” explained Sparkler.

“I regret nothing,” reassured Derpy. “I have Dinky. Times were tough, but we got through them. You shouldn’t let what happened hold you back. You should feel free to love if you want to. Just learn from what happened and don’t let yourself get sweet talked into something you are not ready for,” the grey mare finished.

“I don’t know what I am doing,” Sparkler confessed. “I really don’t fit in with other ponies, I am not even sure how I work, and I don’t know if I can figure out how dating a colt works,” continued Sparkler.

“You are my Sparkler. I love you, and your mother loved you. You just need to figure out who and what you are my silly filly,” Derpy said lovingly.

“You’re my sister, no need to be anything else,” Dinky offered. “I don’t want you dating. I want you all for myself,” confessed Dinky.

“I chased a stallion today,” Derpy said. “We snoot-bumped. By accident. And I saw something in his eyes. He’s special. There was a bit of a misunderstanding though. Well, a big misunderstanding really. But he was really nice about everything and tried so hard to make it up to me,” the pegasus mare added as she began to fluff out her feathers and waggle her ears. “Sometimes I just don’t know what goes wrong…” Derpy added, trailing off.

“I still don’t understand the chase thing,” Sparkler said.

“Pegasus tradition,” replied Derpy.

“What do unicorns do?” asked Sparkler.

“Get chased apparently,” replied Derpy, now shaking with laughter.

Sparkler giggled and felt better. Her mother had a simple approach to everything.

“Colts have cooties,” Dinky said in embarrassed tones.

“So do little fillies,” replied Sparkler, smiling at her sister.

“No really, colts are gross. And one came into the little fillies room the other day and scared us all!” Dinky exclaimed. “Rumble really had to go and the colt’s room was full so he came right in and did his business. It was gross!” Dinky said, waving her hooves alarmingly.

“Aw, come on Dinky, not all colts are bad. One day you are going to grow up and think one of them is worth chasing,” teased Derpy, her tone gentle.

“Nuh-huh!” Dinky retorted. “Piña Colada and I have promised to protect each other from colts because they’re icky,” the unicorn filly added.

“You and Piña Colada seem to be really good friends,” Sparkler said.

“Berry Punch and I are good friends,” mentioned Derpy. “Makes sense with how much time Dinky and Piña Colada spend together because of Berry and I,” added Derpy.

“Berry Punch and my mother were good friends. I get confused sometimes. I don’t know if I love Berry Punch because of who she is or because of the memories of my mother that she holds,” said Sparkler, suddenly looking a little sad.

“You are confusing the two,” Derpy answered. “Berry Punch is who she is because she holds your mother’s memories. They were very, very close. Losing your mother made life very difficult for Berry,” Derpy explained.

“I once wondered if I loved you because you were my best friend or because you were my big sister,” Dinky said. “And it took me a while to figure out that it didn’t matter,” she finished.

Derpy felt a fierce sense of pride as she watched her foals.

A lone unicorn was feeling oddly lonesome. It was a strange feeling, one he hadn’t really felt before. Unicorns were well suited to solitary living, given over to intellectual pursuits, their studies, and their hobbies. Neurosis was actually encouraged among their kind. They had it pounded into their little horned heads from an early age that individuality, a rejection of their base instincts, and rejecting the herd mentality is what set them apart (and perhaps even above) their fellow ponies in other tribes.

Sure, unicorns had families, even loving families, but they made sure to enforce the notion that they were different from other ponies and their families. A foal or two to satisfy the status quo, but never more than a foal or two, otherwise, somepony might begin to think you were one of those sex crazed earth ponies who had more foals than common sense. Foals were also conveniently sent off to boarding schools and private universities so they wouldn’t be in the way. Unicorns had been very careful to create social institutions that would do all of the messy foal rearing for them, so their private lives wouldn’t be terribly interrupted by the intrusive new life-form. Single mothers were common, and homosexuality was actually seen as a solution for couplehood without the pesky obligations or the messy accident of an unexpected foal.

Like Bucky had been. One of his earliest memories was being sent off on a train to Celestia’s School for Gifted Unicorns. He occasionally went home for visits, but it was awkward, because his parents were strangers and he really didn’t know them. And the feeling was mutual. Time spent with his parents was awkward and painful, and he had finally given up. He had settled in Ponyville, having come here several times during his week-long breaks from school, when he had decided to stop going home. His parents were stuffy, uptight, repressed, and resented him deeply for forcing himself, unannounced, into their lives. And they had told him so, right in front of the family therapist. It had been a major part of the decision to never go home again.

And now, Bucky was feeling an increasing sense of agitation welling up inside of him, his solitary pursuits now interrupted by a strange need, a weird unfamiliar feeling of longing for something. He couldn’t concentrate. He couldn’t read. He couldn’t sit still and listen to a record. He didn’t feel like eating anything, even though he was hungry. He felt scared, a little lonely, a little agitated, and mostly, he just felt angry. Really angry. None of his usual methods for dealing with life seemed to be working.

Finally, he could stand it no longer, and he fled from his apartment, now chased by the pain of his past. It was something he was unable to outrun.

Author's Notes:

Fifth chapter in and my legs were still as wobbly as a newborn foal. I have some aspects of the story down that I wanted, but some things are still kinda iffy. There are so many things I wish I had done differently, but I didn't know what I was doing when I did them.

It was like sitting down to eat an elephant all at once. I didn't know where to start or how to do it, so I just started and figured I'd sort out the details as I went.

Hi Rage Review folks... how ya doing? Why are you still reading? You've already been told what to think and given plenty of biased opinions on the story. For simplicity's sake, let's just go with the fact that the critics were right and everything is true.

But Kudzuhaiku... what about the untrue stuff?

Especially the untrue stuff...

Kudzu, are you being a Discordian again?

Give me ambiguity or give me something else!

**sighs** Sorry folks, there is just no dealing with him when he is like this.

(I should have wrote Fifteen Years as a Lion Tamer, by Claude de Bawls instead.)

Shut up Kudzu! Bad!