Stay

by Wintergreen Diaries

First published 2nd of May, 2015

Drawing strength from her family and the peculiar stallion that walked into her life, Pinkie will have to confront the questions that she's been dreading to answer.

It is in the nature of an enigma to confound reason, and sometimes, the bafflement caused to others is rivaled only by the confusion of the source. Pinkie Pie couldn't begin to explain how or why spending time with her Ponyville friends had slowly become a chore, or why seeing them so happy with their significant others made her heart ache. Forcing a smile became a daily routine that weighed heavily upon the once happy mare, and one day, she reached the end of her strength and retreated to the one place that she knew she could feel safe: her family's rock farm. The support and concern of her kin didn't answer the questions, though, and even removed from every reminder of what was left behind, the void only seemed to grow.

A tale of a fun-loving pony struggling to accept the realities of maturity, and of the stallion that would help her find the answers, one faltering step at a time.

Cover art by: TheNornOnTheGo

Prologue

There were many ways that a young pony could display their excitement, and on one particularly sunny morning in the seaside city of Baltimare, a young colt was doing his best to show them all. Uncontrollable laughter bubbled from within as he romped in circles, bounding and giggling with abandon, and even a stranger taking him at a glance would have left the impression that the behavior was nothing out of the ordinary for a child that looked as though chocolate had been dunked in a pastel rainbow. Brilliant streaks of greens, yellow, and even a playful splash of pink flowed through his neatly trimmed mane that complimented his coat of deep brown. As the room began to spin faster than even he could keep up with, Merry Mint ceased his antics for a few seconds and stumbled to a stop, his tongue lolling out of his mouth as he panted for air.

“Settle down, dear,” his mother chided him with a warming grin, “you’re going to make yourself sick.”

“Can’t be sick!” the youngster quipped, pouncing on his tail and rolling across the floor until he lay at his mother’s hooves. “We’ve been waitin’ all week for today! Right, sis?” Craning his head towards the entrance of the dining area, he fixed his sparkling eyes on a filly just two years older than himself. Her deep mocha mane seemed to be mimicking a fire cracker while her creamy white coat remained mostly obscured by the blanket wrapped about her shoulders, a testament to her reluctance to pry herself out of bed.

“Mmph.” Having been more verbose than she cared to be, the filly trotted over, pulled up a chair, and rest her head on the table, knowing that there was no way she was going to be able to sleep in that morning. She flinched a little as the sound of little hooves scrambled over, signalling the imminent approach of her brother.

“C’mon, sissy, don’t be boring!” the colt pleaded, hopping onto a chair beside her. “Don’t you know what day it is?” Her drowsy gaze slowly panned over to meet his expectant stare.

“...Mmph.”

“Minty, honey, let your sister be,” his mother suggested, rustling his mane as she passed. “You know how she is before she gets her tea.”

“Uh huh! She’s boring!” he answered, snickering to himself as her expression soured. “What? It’s true.”

“...You’re a butt.”

“Chai, dear, be nice,” their mother interceded again, stifling her laughter. Ninety percent of the time, her children got along better than any parent could ask for, but the first few minutes of the morning were particularly prone to squabbles. Chamomile couldn’t help but grin as her daughter’s ears perked, heeding the siren’s call coming from the kettle that had just reached a boil. All traces of weariness and exasperation were erased as the young filly watched her mother prepare her a cup of her favorite thing in the world, her hooves tapping on the tabletop as she waited: nobody made a good cup of chai like her mother. Vanilla Chai accepted the steaming mug of her mother’s special blend with eagerness, pausing to take a deep draft of the fragrant aroma before gingerly lifting the cup to her lips.

“And a three, an’ a two, an’ a one,” her brother counted down, watching as his sister’s features came alive. He didn’t quite understand what it was about tea that made Chai smile the way it did, but all that mattered was that she was smiling.

“Mmm, thank you, mother,” the filly said politely before glancing across at her brother with a sly grin. “You’re still a butt.”

“Am not!”

“Alright, you two, come on now,” Chamomile chuckled, giving them each a bowl of flavored oatmeal. “Eat up! After all, today is a special day, and we can’t leave until you’ve had a good meal.” Growing appetites and the word of their mother was enough to call a truce between the two, and they tucked in with gusto. Despite having a rough time getting going in the morning, Chai was actually just as excited for the day to start as her younger brother was, and they both finished in record time. Within minutes, their dishes were rinsed, and with both her children bouncing by the doorway, Chamomile wrapped them each with a scarf before they stepped out into the thriving streets of Baltimare.

Much of the walk went by in both a literal and figurative blur for Minty, who was constantly dashing ahead and running back, or splashing in the shallow puddles left from the previous night’s shower. Being a larger city, there were typically throngs of ponies going about their business, but his mother had long since given up on trying to keep him by her side at all times: there was just too much wonder in the colt to be completely reigned in. That didn’t keep her from watching him like a hawk, and it was with some measure of thankfulness that they lived away from the seaside of town where all kinds of rabble rousers and traders frequented. Hearing his name called for the umpteenth time, Minty pried his attention away from a fuzzy caterpillar that had caught his eye and skipped back to his family as they stood outside their destination.

“Baltimare Animal Shelter,” Chai read aloud, turning back to her brother. “You ready for pet day?”

“Pet day, pet day!” the colt squealed, romping in a few tight circles before catching a hoof motion from his mother and toning it down.

“Remember your indoor voices, Minty,” his mother reminded him as she held the door, letting her children in ahead before leading them over to the front desk. A cheerful looking pegasus greeted them as they made their way over.

“Welcome, welcome!” the mare said in a cordial tone. “What brings you all here today?”

“Pet day!” Minty blurted out, only to cover his mouth with both hooves. “We’re here for pet day,” he repeated in a slightly quieter tone.

“That’s right,” Chamomile confirmed, patting her son’s head to assuage his worry over being loud. “These two are interested in giving a pet a good home.”

“Well, if there’s one thing he have plenty of around here, it’s fine little critters that make finer pets,” she laughed, edging around the desk and looking down at the two young ponies. “However, owning a pet isn’t all about fun and games. They can be a lot of work, and require responsibility and patience. Do you think you both can handle that?”

“Minty has the fun, and I’ve got the patience,” Chai explained, wrapping a hoof around Minty. “Between the two of us, I’m sure that we can find the responsibility, too. Right, brother?”

“Right!”

“Ha ha, that’s the best response I’ve heard in a while!” the receptionist exclaimed, laughing freely. “Alright, then, follow me. Let’s see if we can’t find some animal companions.” Following their guide, both of the children eagerly lined up behind the mare as she led them through a door and into the land of fur and feathers. Oblivious to their mother’s watchful and warming gaze, the kids marveled as they were shown all manner of animals. From the manic and curious ferrets that never seemed to sit still to brightly colored canaries, mice to playful kittens, Minty and Chai found themselves wowed with every room that they were shown. Neither had given much thought to what kind of animal they would prefer to have, and they had almost been through the whole shelter by the time they got to the kennels.

“Oh, wow, puppies!” Minty exclaimed, bounding over to a cage with a little terrier inside. Playfully trading bark for bark and pawing at the cage just like the canine, Minty only half paid attention as their guide began explaining all of the different breeds that they had available, instead choosing to browse the aisle, stopping by each cage and watching the little pups. Some of them were really young, and their barks, if they could even be called that, were soft and squeaky, whereas others were already almost as big as himself.

“You seem to really like this room,” Chai commented, strolling up behind him. “Do you see any that you like?”

“All of them!” Minty said unabashedly, hopping over to the next cage and looking inside.

“Even the most responsible colt would have trouble keeping track of all these dogs,” the mare commented in a jovial tone. “Now, over here we have…” Already on to the next thing that caught his eye, the mare’s voice faded from Minty’s attention. He was being truthful when he said that he liked them all, but for some reason he couldn’t imagine having any of them as his pet. There was something missing, something that he couldn’t quite put his hoof on, but he felt something stir as he watched the guide move towards the door onto the next set of animals.

“Excuse me! Miss, um…”

“Feather is fine, dear,” came the mare’s friendly reply. “What is it?”

“Are there any other dogs around?” For the first time that morning, she frowned.

“No- Well, I mean, she’s not…” Feather fumbled, searching for the words to explain the answer. Try as she may, she couldn’t bring herself to fib to the earnest colt, and with a sigh she nodded. “There is one other one, but she’s not… really up for adoption.”

“Why not?” Minty asked, cocking his head to the side. “Every dog needs a home, right?”

“Yes, that is true,” she replied, stooping down to Minty’s eye level. “Every animal you see here was brought in because they don’t have a home, or because they lost theirs. Most of the time, the animals we receive are really very sweet, and they make wonderful pets. However,” she continued, her voice taking on a tinge of sadness, “sometimes we get animals that have been… well, that haven’t had a good life. They can be really mean, and are dangerous to be around.” The colt looked stricken. “We feed them, and keep them as comfortable as we can, but sometimes they never warm up to being around ponies, so we have to keep them separate from the rest.”

“That doesn’t make any sense,” Minty said quietly, glancing at a beagle that was gnawing contentedly on a length of thick chord. “How could anypony be mean to a cute little doggie?” There was a brief silence in the room before Minty turned back to Feather. “Can I see the sad doggie?”

“W-well,” she began, glancing over at Chamomile for some kind of confirmation. She nodded. “I… I’m not really supposed to let our guests back there, but if you promise to stay close to me and keep away from the cage, we can go see her.”

“We promise,” Chai answered for her brother, drawing up beside him. “We’ll be good.”

“Alright, then, follow me.” Sticking close, the group made their way through the play area where the older animals were allowed to frolic and into a smaller building in the back. It was slightly larger than a shed, around the size of a modest bedroom. After unlocking the latch, they followed Feather inside to find a single, large cage within. Huddled in the corner was a bundle of matted fur that didn’t stir when they entered.

“Is that her?” Feather nodded to the colt. “...She looks so lonely.” His eyes wandered from what was likely once beautiful golden brown fur, to the ample lump of fluff on her chest, and then on to the food bowl that lay largely untouched. He took a tentative step forward but found his way barred by Feather’s hoof.

“You’d best not get too close,” she explained in a quiet tone. “We’re not sure what happened, but she can be really vicious.”

"What kind of dog is she?" he asked, glancing back and forth between Feather and the pup.

"She's some kind of collie mix, probably rough collie."

"Mix? Mixed with what?"

"I don't know, a bear perhaps," Feather muttered, giving the cage a wary glance.

“Does she have a name, at least?” The desperation in his voice made it difficult for Feather to think.

“We actually haven’t given her a name. She hasn’t been here very long, but she’s already attacked two of our staff…” Minty turned back to the cage, catching movement out of the corner of his eye. The dog had woken to the sound of their voices and lay watching their every move. Minty trotted a little ways away from Feather and scooted a little closer to the cage, though he couldn’t help but flinch as a low snarl began to build within its throat, it’s ears peeling back.

“U-um… hi there.” The snarl stopped for a moment, but came back a short while later. “How has your day been?” Another growl. “I’m sorry to hear that. Did you not like your breakfast?” There followed a lull. The dog stared hard at the child before glancing in the direction of its bowl, giving it a disdainful snort. “Yeah, it doesn’t smell like it’d be very good,” Minty said with a timid chuckle. “You should try my mom’s oatmeal! She puts all sorts of good stuff in it, and makes it really yummy an’ sweet!” He shifted his weight, planning to move closer, but when the growl returned, he sat back where he had been.

“You must really like your space, huh? Well, that’s okay. I can just sit over here.” Chamomile watched with mixed emotions as her son continued chatting with the young dog. Anytime he moved around or fidgeting, the snarl would return, and it rightfully made her nervous. But on the other hoof, she could tell already that her son wasn’t going to be convinced to simply leave things as they were. After a mere number of minutes, he was chatting up a storm without any trace of hesitancy, and Chamomile slowly moved over and sat beside her son, doing her best not to pay the ensuing snarl much heed.

“Minty, I… I know that you’ve made up your mind,” she began, placing a hoof on her son’s shoulder. “But… we can’t bring her home with us.”

“B-but-” he began, his eyes filling with tears. “She’s lonely! We can’t just leave her here! Wh-what if nobody ever comes to see her, or play with her, or, or…”

“Shhh, Merry, don’t be so dismayed,” she murmured, scooping him into her hooves. “I didn’t say that you couldn’t be her friend.”

“Wh-what do you mean?” he asked, running a hoof across his snout and sniffling.

“It wouldn’t be very nice to move her to somewhere that she wouldn’t be comfortable living, would it?” his mother explained gently, drying his eyes. “She needs to get used to being around ponies first, so how about we come back and visit her again?”

“An’ again?”

“And again,” Chamomile said with a smile. “Would that be alright, Feather?”

“Of course,” she said, a little misty eyed herself. “For now, though, why don’t we leave her be?”

“O-okay,” Minty agreed, his voice quavering as he turned back to the cage. He couldn’t explain why, but he couldn’t stop himself from feeling drawn to the puppy that lay within, even though they had nothing in common; She was a grump, and he was a happy kid. “Hey in there, I’ve got to go now,” he explained with evident reluctance. “I know it’s not as good as oatmeal, but you should eat your breakfast. Otherwise, you won’t grow big and strong like me! Oh, and here.” Reaching up, the colt unwound his hoof-knit scarf and tossed it onto the top of the cage. The dog shrank away and growled at the tassel hanging down, but that too ceased as Minty continued.

“It’s been getting kinda cold lately, so wear that. It’s nice and warm, an’ it’ll keep you toasty at night.” He watched for a few more moments, waiting to see if she would take it, but she remained where she was, watching. “I’ll see you again soon, okay? And next time, I’ll give you a name. It’ll be a really pretty one, too! Just you wait.” Waving as he followed his family out, the colt paused at the doorway and looked back one last time at the pup. There were plenty of others more playful and pretty than her, but in his eyes, she was the only one that he wanted to take home. She would be more than just a pet, he knew. She would be his companion. She would be his friend.

“I’ll come back for you,” he whispered, offering one last timid wave. “I’ll come back as many times as it takes.”

Cutie Sense

Reluctant to leave the warmth of her bed, Vanilla Chai lay with her eyes closed, listening to the rhythmic whuh-whump as her excitable sibling bounced around the house, no doubt getting the morning meal underway. Though a good deal more stoic by nature, she couldn’t deny that she rather enjoyed Minty’s manic ways, even if they did become somewhat difficult to keep up with at times. Encouraged from her bed by the sound of humming and the smell of a warm meal, she sat up, blinked away the bleary, and slid off of the bed. Her milky mocha mane had grown to a decent length and complimented her pale cream coat to a tea, which was fortunate because she happened to have no small fondness for a good brew, as evidenced by the steaming cup of tea adorning her flank. Spending a few minutes with a brush, she set her tail straight and wandered down the hall towards the kitchen, where she found the sweet scent of french toast wafting in the air and a steaming mug of her morning favorite waiting at her spot at the table.

“Breakfast and tea at sunrise?” she mused in a murmur, gratefully taking a sip of her tea. “Any particular occasion, Minty?”

“Not reeeally,” came the carefree reply, his tail swishing to and fro as he sifted through the cupboards. They were packed pretty tightly with his sister’s experimental brews and chock full of ingredients, so finding anything not related to tea could sometimes be problematic. “I just happened to wake up on the right side of the floor this morning! Something is telling me it’s gonna be an awesome day, and I can hardly wait to figure it out.”

“Minty sense?”

“Yooou betcha!”

“I thought so,” Chai said thoughtfully, mulling over the information. Though being a barista opened the doors for learning plenty from customer gossip, she had yet to hear of anypony being able to predict and prevent moments of severe sadness by virtue of their cutie mark. There was nothing that Minty enjoyed more than making others merry, and somehow, he always seemed to know where to go and what to do when somebody needed a smile the most. “Is it gonna be a doozie?”

“I dunno, it’s hard to say,” he explained, craning his neck and staring straight at his mark. “It’s still percolating.” Merry didn’t spend too much time pondering what the tingling sensation in his cutie mark could mean. It wasn’t the first time it had happened, and over the years he had come to read his tea leaves pretty accurately. A short while later breakfast began in gusto, temporarily diverting his attention as he sat wolfing down a generous stack of french toast lathered with generous quantities of sweet maple syrup. Chai always found it somewhat amusing how doglike he could be at times, and she found herself shaking her head at the speed with which he demolished his. It was truly beastly.

After they had finished, the two siblings went about their morning routine. Minty cleared the table and started on the dishes while Chai loaded up her cart with all the tea blends and various syrups that she would need for the day’s business. Holding out a hoof to gauge the temperature, she loaded some extra ice into the cooler, guessing that the warmer temperatures in the afternoon would likely lead to her chilled blends being the more favorable choice of the public. Right as she stowed the last jar of herbs, Minty came bounding out as if on cue and snuggled into the harness, and before long they were making their way towards the town’s market area.

Dodge City was, and probably always would be, an old-fashioned town. The dusty path leading down the center was unpaved and well trodden. Rickety wooden buildings were often left unpainted, and those that were deemed fancy enough were adorned in earthen hues of yellow, orange, and brown. Occasional structures of brick and mortar were interspersed throughout, with the bank being the most notable, but despite the appearance all of the town was well maintained, and the folk that trotted up and down the strip were happy to call it their own.

Stopping at their usual spot along the main fairway, Merry cantered to a halt and detached himself from the harness. With a few deft swipes of his hoof, the latches flung open and the cart had transformed itself nicely into a mobile stall, complete with serving counter, an older and sometimes touchy electric stove, and a small awning. While Chai went about getting the water heating, Merry set out all of the syrups, set out the menu and signs, and did some last minute spot cleaning. Together, the pair soon had things up and running smoothly as the ponies formed a line, eager for their morning pick-me-up.

Chai had heard it said somewhere that if somepony does what they love, then they never have to work a day in their life. She knew this to be an erroneous statement, as she was genuinely delighted with being able to brew her beloved teas for a living, and it was quite a bit of effort. Nothing that she sold came in tea bags, and was all blended by hoof from herbs grown in her garden, and that’s to say nothing of the more particular customers who wouldn’t know a decent blend if it strolled over and bit them in rump.

“Good morning! What can I get for you, sir?” Chais asked pleasantly as her previous customer shuffled out of line and towards the serving counter.

“Hmmm, yes, I’d like a decently large, but not too large, mind you, cup of your finest imported java at two-thirds cafe, light soy milk, one point five ounces of cream, and just a dash of caramel flavoring. Make sure to give it three swirls, no more, and two straws, not one.” Chai blinked. “Do take care with that, miss, I would hate to be disappointed,” he insisted, casually dropping barely enough bits for a medium on the counter with an obnoxious clink.

“...One medium bean juice, Merry,” Chai muttered through gritted teeth, scraping the bits off the counter.

“B-but I said-”

“NEXT!” Muttering fiercely under his breath, the stallion stalked off in a huff while Chai greeted the next customer with a cordial grin. Fortunately for the sake of their continued operations, Minty had learned to keep an ear out when his sister was taking orders. In his mind, the more problematic the customer, the more likely they needed a reason to smile. Besides, they had only started selling coffee due to an increasing demand for what his sister ardently claimed was an affront to all things potable, and he knew that it was a bit of a sore spot for her. Working quickly and efficiently, he got the order off exactly as the stallion had requested it, and Merry even slipped a few pieces of candy on a napkin as he set the drink on the counter.

“There ya go!” he quipped, watching as the stallion snatched it up, still mumbling to himself. “How is it?” He took a sip and paused, peering at the cup with surprise.

“It’s… adequate,” he admitted begrudgingly before walking off, hanging his head a little as he went.

“Have a nice day~!” Minty called after him, returning to his work. The morning rush typically lasted between 8:30 and 10:00 in the morning, though he was thankful that it slowed down a little earlier. His cutie mark had been acting bizarre all morning, and it was slowly starting to build. A sensation akin to the prickle of mint had started to build within, and though he had tried to remain inconspicuous, he realized that he probably wasn’t rubbing his flank as stealthily as he thought.

“Something bothering you?” Chai asked, helping herself to a cup of rosehip with honey.

“My butt is burning,” he explained, straight faced, causing his sister to grin. “It feels really strange.”

“Told you you’re a butt,” she teased, prompting a chuckle from them both. “But seriously, hasn’t your mark tingled before?”

“Well, yeah, but it’s really strong right now,” he countered, shuffling about on his hooves. Stealing a quick glance around and making sure that nobody was watching, he then plopped himself down out of sight, craned his neck around, and began gnawing at his cutie mark. Chai watched with vague amusement as he gave a body wide shudder and pulled away, rising shakily to his hooves.

“Did that help?”

“No, it made it worse,” he pouted, rubbing himself against the rough wood interior of the cart. “I mean, I know something big is gonna happen, but I have no idea what it could be, or even when it’s gonna happen! I reeeally wish it would hurry up.”

“Why don’t you go for a walk?” Chai suggested, adopting a sympathetic tone. “Perhaps you’ll see something that’ll trigger your sense the rest of the way.”

“Are you sure that’d be okay?” he asked, looking hesitant. “I’m preeetty sure if that coffee guy comes back, there won’t be much of a stand left when I come back.”

“Oh, be off with you,” Chai giggled, shaking her head. “I’m perfectly capable of controlling myself around the customers. At the very worst, he’ll just have to deal with a scoop or two of coffee grounds at the bottom of the cup.”

“Bleh. Grossness.” Merry pulled a face at the thought: he didn’t like coffee, either. “Well, as long as you’re sure. I’ll try to be back in time for the afternoon rush, okay?”

“Sounds good. I’ll see you then.” Removing his apron, Merry let himself out of the cart and set out at a brisk trot. Though it was only mid morning, it was already getting quite warm, but if he was going to figure out what his cutie mark was trying to say before the lunch rush, then the more ground he covered the better. With a burning in his thigh and a spring in his step, the stallion set out on his little quest, hoping to find a little relief.

Marble may have developed a reputation for being the most timid of the Pie sisters, but not even the thought of crowds and strangers could deter her from enjoying the Dodge City market. Well, not enough to keep her at home, anyways. Working on a rock farm was gruelling work, even with the recent return of her older sister Pinkamena, so any day that they were given leave to take a break and head into town was reason for excitement. However, it was difficult to maintain that enthusiasm when the most energetic of them was about as lively, and willing, as a damp rag.

“Pinkie, are you ready to go?” Marble asked after a few tentative knocks on the door. “It’s almost time to go to the market.”

“Yeah, I know…” came the muted reply. Cracking open the door, Marble looked in to find her sister lying facedown on the bed, her muzzle buried into the pillow.

“Awww, sis, still?” Marble thought to herself, quietly letting herself inside and stopping by the bedside. “It’s been over a week since you’ve been here, and you’re still all mopey…” Ever since she had first discovered her calling and got her cutie mark, Pinkie had made a reputation for herself as being one of Equestria’s best party ponies, though one would never have been able to tell that, looking at her now. Her mane, once as full of vibrance and character as she had been, lay flat and lifeless, trailing down her back and around her shoulders, with the tail not faring any better. Perhaps the most telling sign of Pinkie’s unfortunate state was the lack of sparkle in her eyes; the luster that had transformed the Pie family so many years ago had seemingly departed, and all that remained were fragments of its former glory.

“I wish we could figure out some way to help,” Marble thought with a quiet sigh. “Or that she’d tell us what was wrong, at least...” That something was wrong, there was no doubt in anypony’s mind, but exactly what that was had yet to be determined. Pinkie, as they had been reminded in recent days, was a pony that could be as stubborn as could be, and despite their insistent support and care, they had yet to glean much information out of her to explain her behavior. All they knew was that she had had some kind of falling out with her friends in Ponyville, and that it had hit her hard. “Sis?” Pinkie pried her snout out of the pillow and fixed Marble in her listless gaze.

“Did you, um, maybe want to come along?”

“Not really,” Pinkie replied in a distant tone. “I’d rather stay here and… trace wood grains. It’s pretty fun…”

“You’re coming, and that’s final.” Both ponies looked over to see Limestone standing in the doorway, her expression one devoid of negotiation. “Pinkie, you’ve been lazing about for days now,” she continued, though in a gentler tone. “Staying cooped up in your room isn’t healthy, and I know for sure it isn’t fun.”

“Hmph. Says you,” Pinkie snapped half-heartedly. “Maybe I like staring at the wall.”

“And maybe you don’t, and you secretly want to get out of the house and actually do something for a change instead of sitting around the house doing nothing,” Limestone countered. Her sister didn’t budge. “C’mon, Pinkie.” Limestone took in a deep breath and let it out slow as Marble reached over and placed a gentle hoof on her shoulder; she never was good and hiding her frustration. “...Please?”

“Can I have five more minutes, Blinkie?” Limestone forestalled a shudder as she reached over and placed a comforting hoof on Pinkie’s back.

“Of course, sis, we can wait,” she said gently before turning away. “C’mon, Inkie, let’s give her some time alone.”

“O-okay, sure,” Marble agreed, glancing over her shoulder as they left.

The sound of the door latching shut caused Pinkie to stir, and it was with great reluctance that she sat up, her hooves dangling over the side of the bed. Despite her family’s comfort and support, she still hadn’t seemed to be able to shake the mantle of gloom that had followed her from Ponyville. It had been just over a week since she had fled the town she had come to love and returned to her family’s rock farm. She had imagined that if there was anywhere that she could feel safe, it would be in a place surrounded by ponies that she knew cared for her, but not even their warmth could stave off the growing chill in her heart, nor guard her from the grudges she held.

“Why couldn’t they have just…” she whispered, the thought catching in her throat. Her eyes snapped shut as a fleeting memory passed through her mind, and the bed gave a slight creak as she shuddered, burying the thought as quickly as possible. “No, I can’t keep thinking like that. I don’t need them,” she countered to herself, her gaze darkening, only to soften a few seconds later. “But… but I miss them, even if they…” She buried her face in her hooves, the only real thing that she could say for certain rising unbidden to her lips. “...I’m so confused.”

Glancing at the clock and realizing she had already whittled away three of her five minutes, the mare shook her head and slid off of the bed. Picking up a brush and making a few disinterested passes through her mane and tail, she splashed some water on her face and descended the steps into the main living area where her sisters sat waiting.

“Pinkie, listen,” Limestone started, trotting over. “It’s wrong of me to try and force you into anything. You’re a grown mare, you’re my big sister, and you can make your own decisions without my nagging. But…” she continued, scuffing at the floor, “I would really like it if you came with us to town.”

“Inkie put you up to this, didn’t she?” Pinkie asked, feigning a half hearted grin.

“Yes, yes she did,” Limestone confirmed with a quiet laugh as Marble watched the procession with satisfaction.

“It’s fine, Blinkie, you were right anyways,” Pinkie conceded wearily. “I can’t sit around here forever, even if that’s all I feel like doing…”

“Don’t worry, sis, I’m sure we can find something fun to do in town,” Marble assured her, beaming brightly. “Business has been really good for me and Blinkie lately. We normally sell all our stuff within an hour or two, and then we have the whole rest of the afternoon to have some fun!”

“That sounds amazing,” Pinkie replied. The enthusiasm sounded strained, even to her ears, but she had to at least try for Marble. “Besides, it’ll be good to see Dodge again. I haven’t been back here for years. Has it changed much? They didn’t build any skyscrapers, did they?”

“Of course not, silly,” Marble giggled, leading them out the door and down the path heading towards town. Along the way, Marble and Limestone helped catch Pinkie up on all of the happenings around Dodge, though there wasn’t as much as one would expect after over a decade spent away. Businesses had been steadily cropping up around the town, bolstering the economy and bringing in a fair bit of tourism during varying times of the year. A few new buildings had gone up, a few had closed down, but as they stepped into city limits, Pinkie got to see for herself how little had really changed.

“Wow, you girls were right. It hasn’t hardly changed at all.”

“Is that… good?” Limestone asked, unsure of whether Pinkie meant what she said for better or for worse.

“I… think so?” Pinkie offered, sounding none too sure of herself. “It’s a little hard to tell.”

“That’s okay, sis,” Marble said in an encouraging tone. “If it’s the same, then you’ll enjoy it just as much as when you were little!”

“Do you think so?”

“I know so! C’mon, the market’s down this way!” Together the trio made a beeline towards the center of town. Much like Ponyville, the main strip were lined with stalls of all kinds, with all manner of ponies hawking their wares. There were several larger stores further down the way, but all of the fun was in the heart of the town. It was like a year-round flea market where one never knew what they would find, and Pinkie soon found herself swept away as her sisters led her around, showing her trinkets and outlandish garb. They spent nearly an hour browsing around and Pinkie still felt like she had barely scratched the surface when her sister’s began setting up their stall.

“See? I told you that you’d have fun.” Pinkie paused stuffing her face full of churro just long enough to give Marble a contrite nod before she went back to munching away on her snack. Even that was enough to lift Marble’s spirits, and she went back to setting up her display of rock and plant based dyes, paints, and other assorted colorful rock-based goods. Alongside her, Limestone was setting out her display of “pet rocks,” as she liked to call them: rocks that had been chiseled to look like all manner of critters. “You know, you can help us out if you want.”

“Oh, I don’t know, I’m not all that great with rocks,” Pinkie said, scratching awkwardly at her hoof. “I’m more of a party-type of pony. I’d probably mess everything up.”

“Since when were you such a doubter?” Limestone asked, shaking her head. “Anyways, you don’t have to actually do anything with our rocks; we can take care of selling those. Why don’t you take some of Inkie’s dye and decorate the tent? It could use a little sprucing up.”

“Blinkie, that’s a great idea!” Marble exclaimed, clapping her hooves. “Oh, say you will, sis! Please, please~?”

“B-but I…” It was no use. Pinkie couldn’t find it in herself to tell her little sister no, not when she looked so excited. “Alright, I guess I can take a crack at it.”

“Woohoo!” Whooping as loudly as a quite pony could, Marble reached over and wrapped Pinkie in a big ol’ hug. “Alright, now these one’s over here are for fabrics,” Inkie explained. “You’ll need to thicken them with a little of this if you want to be able to paint. Here, like this…” Pinkie watched with mild fascination as Inkie skillfully blended a few key minerals into a few jars of runny dyes, only to have them thicken within minutes. “There you go! All set,” she said, beaming proudly as she presented Pinkie with the basket of dyes and a brush.

“Gosh, Inkie, that was really something!” Pinkie said, eyeing one of the jars. “Alright, time to-”

“Hey, Pinkie, wait a second.” Inkie and Pinkie both turned towards Blinkie who had just finished setting up. “Mother asked us to run down to the post office to check for mail. We check the box once a week, but we’re gonna be tied up here for a bit. Do you think you could run down there and collect it before you start?”

“Oh, sure, I guess,” Pinkie said with a shrug.

“Do you remember the way?”

“Yeah, I think so,” she said, already trotting towards the back of the tent. “Be back in a flash!” She had barely taken two steps before she realized that finding her way wasn’t going to be the problem, but getting there without getting distracted.

“Ooooh, why do they have to have so much cool stuff?” she whined quietly to herself, forcibly tearing her eyes away from one stall only to have them glue to the next. “Gah! Blinders!” Positioning her hooves on either side of her eyes so she could only see straight ahead, the mare wobbled down the road the bipedal way, garnering no small amounts strange looks. Dropping back to all fours as the post office came into view, the mare grateful readjusted to a canter and strolled inside.

“Hello! Pinkamena here to pick up mail for the Pie family?”

“One moment, please,” the attendant replied, sifting through her lists. “Ah, here you are. Here’s the key. It’s box number nineteen, just down that way.”

“Thanks!” Bouncing over to the box, Pinkie Pie held up the key and paused, the realization that she had bounced setting in. “It feels so strange, doing that now,” she remarked to herself, dropping her eyes to the floor. “And it feels even stranger to feel strange about being excited, or happy, or happicited, or whatever it was that I just was a few seconds ago…” She let her head fall to the box with a resounding clang. “Why are emotions so confusing?”

Catching a glimpse of the incredulous look being directed at her from the mare at the front desk, Pinkie Pie shook it off and stuck the key in the lock. There wasn’t anything particularly noteworthy within, aside from the regular allotment of purchase orders for the farm and spam. Stowing the contents within a small sack that she had brought along, she locked the box back up and deposited the key at the front desk before trotting towards the door.

“Wait!” Pinkie stopped, casting a confused glance at the stewardess. “Pinkamena Diane Pie, that’s you, correct?”

“Yeah, that’s me,” she confirmed, returning to the desk. “Why do you ask?”

“It appears we have a package addressed directly to you.”

“For me?” “That’s strange. Who could possibly be sending me something? It’s not even my birthday yet…” She watched the mare disappear into the back room. “Are you sure it’s for me?”

“Well, that’s what it says here,” the mare replied, setting the package on the desk and sliding it towards her. “That’s your name, isn’t it?”

“Yup,” Pinkie mumbled, her eyes roaming over the package. Whoever had wrapped it clearly had no sense of artistic integrity. Drab, brown parchment paper had been folded up and around something roughly square shaped and tied with a bow made not of ribbon, but some kind of cord. “Who in Equestria would send me-” “Wait, Rarity?!” Every head turned as Pinkie’s startled exclamation echoed throughout the quiet facility, but she didn’t even notice. Her eyes sat glued to the shipping address.

“I… I can’t believe this. Rarity would never send something looking like this to anypony! And she especially wouldn’t send me a gift after-” Pinkie cringed as another memory flitted to the surface, one still quite fresh. “Especially after I was such a meaniepants… But wait, no, she wouldn’t send me a gift after that!”

“What is this, some kind of joke?” Pinkie prodded, scowling at the hapless mail pony.

“I d-don’t know what you’re…” she began, though Pinkie’s attention seemed to have already shifted away.

“Sending me a joke package?” she muttered, eyeing her gift with disdain. “I’ll bet she wrapped all lame just to make fun of me! What’s the matter, Rarity? You got a problem with rock farms? Huh?! Don’t you lie to me!”

“Miss, I’m af-fraid you’re going to have to l-leave…”

“Oh, really?” Pinkie Pie snapped, her eyes blazing wildly as she snatched the package off the counter. “Well, if that’s how you’re going to be about it, then me and my package can just leave! Hmph!” Balancing the parcel atop her head, Pinkie swept out of the post office and into the streets, where her inner war continued to rage. Back and forth between anger and guilt, frustration and dejection, the mare hadn’t made it very far before she slammed the parcel to the ground in sheer vexation. Her emotions were spiraling wildly out of control and the worst part is that she couldn’t even say why. She wanted to cry, to scream, to run and hide all at the same time.

“And it’s all because of them,” she seethed, her ears peeled back. “It’s all because of me.” Her ears drooped as the scowl was overtaken by sorrow. “Grrrr, I can’t… think like this! I just want it to stop! I just… I just…” It wasn’t until she watched a few tears be devoured by the thirsty dust that she realized she had begun to cry. “...I just want the pain to stop. For… for things to go back to the way they were, but they can’t… they shouldn’t? They won’t...” The thought lingered as her expression began to darken.

“No, they won’t change,” she muttered, glaring down at the parcel. The more she looked at it, the more she couldn’t stand the sight of it. Her heart cried out for her to listen as she snatched up the gift that had been meant for good, but she couldn’t bring herself to pay it any heed. Her day had been going along fine, almost even good, until that package had come along and reminded her of all that she wanted to forget. She took one last look at the name on the label before she wound up and hurled the package with all her might. But the moment that it left her hoof, she knew that she had made a mistake, and she sank down into the dust as it sailed over rooftops and out of sight.

Cutie Nonsense

By midday, the burning sensation in Merry’s thigh had grown to fever pitch. Panting for breath and barely able to walk, he gratefully stole into a shaded alleyway between buildings to rest. It had spread from the centralized location in his cutie mark to cover the entire left side of his flank and extended halfway up his spine. Every step felt like he’d been thrown into the fire, and found himself wondering if he would even live through the day.

“Yeeeah, I’m gonna go ahead and… and say this is a… pretty big doozie,” he wheezed, chuckling weakly. He had wandered throughout most of the town, even sniffed around the outskirts for anything out of the ordinary, but the only thing that had changed was the intensity of the minty burn. Glancing at the position of the sun, he realized that he was already late getting back. “Sorry, sis,” he murmured, hanging his head and staring down at the ground. “I didn’t mean… to be late.” He let out a muted yelp of pain as his attempts to move roused the searing sensation even further, nearly causing his legs to buckle. Nausea was beginning to set in, but whether it was from his cutie mark or the growing sense of urgency, he couldn’t say.

“My cutie mark only gets like this when somepony is about to have something sad happen,” he told himself, struggling to make his thoughts connect with the growing dizziness making the world spin. “Normally, I know exactly where to go, but this is so strong that it feels like it’s everywhere. If only I could just-” His thoughts faded into static as the sensation growing in his flank began to steadily build. Merry brought a hoof over his mouth as a pulse reached into his stomach, only to recede a short while later. The affected area began to shrink, the burn beginning to drain from his back and sides while magnifying the excruciating sensation building in the center of his cutie mark. His breathing grew erratic, with irregular gasps being all that he could manage. Just when he thought he couldn’t take it any longer, the sensation imploded, collapsing on itself before racing through his being.

“Nnngh…” For a few seconds, he lay inert, gasping for air as the lingering remnants of the sensation ebbed and flowed. However, the urgency hadn’t left, and he struggled to his hooves as the his senses honed in on the source. He couldn’t say how he knew, nor what was calling him, but he had to act fast.

Forcing himself upright, he leapt forward and stumbled to the ground, having miscalculated his recovery something horrible. Muttering, he stood once more and beat his limbs into submission, the prickle working its way out of his system with every thundering step. Ponies leapt out of the path as he tore through the alleys and leapt over carts, racing towards the heart of the town. He was almost there when his heart wrenched him in another direction, and he ground to a halt in abject confusion.

“What the whatness? How could the place I need to be just jump all the way across town?!” he wondered amidst ragged breaths. It was at the split second that he made up his mind to follow the urging, regardless of whether or not it made sense, that he saw it. He couldn’t tell what it was from a distance, but something was hurtling through the air at unprecedented speed, and then tore off at a bounding gallop that was kicking up dust like a sand storm. His eyes trained on the object as it began to drop, and he followed the projected course all the way down to where it would land, and that’s when he realized the urgency: whatever that was that he was chasing was heading straight for a sizable sand storm heading straight towards the town.

“Whatever that thing is, it’ll will be lost forever if it gets caught in the sandstorm,” he realized, the full scope of what his mark had set him out to accomplish coming into focus. It was a race against time and sand. Thinking quickly, he snatched a bandana from a passing pony and quickly slipped it around his neck. His eyes flicked hither and yon, his mind racing to comprehend the quickest way to get to the package. With no time for hesitation, he leapt onto the counter of a nearby stall, vaulted onto the top of the next, and sprinted along the roof tops, leaping from one house to the next. His hooves scrabbled for traction as he leapt onto a poorly maintained roof with shingles as slick as oil, and let out a sharp cry as his hooves twisted painfully as he fell from the top of the building and onto the ground.

“Can’t quit now,” he thought between ragged gasps. Trotting was one thing, and galloping he could do, but he had been all out sprinting, and along the rooftops, no less! Every labored breath brought with it the lancing pains of over exertion, but he pried himself upright anyways, gritting his teeth through the pain and tearing headlong towards the sandstorm that was quickly closing in.

“I’m not… not gonna make it.” He dropped his head down, giving it his everything. “I have to make it. I have to make it. I have to-” His stomach tried fervently to yank the reigns, but all it did was change the mantra being repeated as he ran. “I have to make it and not throw up, I have to make it and not throw up…” There were only a matter of seconds left. His vision had grown blurry so he couldn’t make out exactly what it was that he was racing towards, but it didn’t matter. He had to make it. That was all he knew, and that was exactly what he intended to do. Time began to slow as he neared the base of the storm. With one last effort, he planted his hooves and pushed off with all his might, leaping directly towards the whipping wall of wind and sand some twenty feet high.

His jaw opened. His neck extended. There was no going back.

Neither Marble nor Limestone could rightly surmise just how in Equestria going to retrieve the mail could have possibly made Pinkie Pie so dejected. She hardly made a sound as she slinked in through the back and deposited the small sack from around her neck in the corner, and were it not for the clunk of her hoof knocking against some of the spare pet rocks lying in a gunny sack, she probably would have escaped undetected.

“Pinkie?” Marble asked hesitantly. “Is there… something the matter?” Choosing to communicate the depth of her dismay with action rather than words, Pinkie made like an ostrich and planted her face to the ground, with the rest of her following shortly after. “Did you find the post office alright?” A pink hoof dragged its way over and patted around until it found the mail sack, which it then slowly, painfully dragged over and dropped at the mare’s feet.

“What do you suppose happened?” Limestone murmured, nonplussed.

“Beats me, sis,” Marble replied, every bit as confused as her sibling. “Do you supposed she ran into one of her friends from Ponyville?”

“I doubt it. I don’t think any of them will be coming back, not after the telling off that she gave that Rainbow Dash mare.” They both went quiet after that, the memory of the event still quite fresh in everypony’s mind. Things had gone from static to heated within moments of the hot-headed pegasus’ arrival, and Blinkie had ended up losing her temper and giving her a piece and a half of her mind. Rainbow Dash had taken off shortly after that, but again it was Pinkie who seemed to be on the losing end of things. It seemed like no matter what was said between her and her so called friends, Pinkie ended up getting hurt, and it made it incredibly difficult for them not to grow further embittered towards all of them.

“Pinkie? Could you tell us what’s wrong?” Blinkie tried again, stooping down next to her and rubbing her back. Her expression blanked as she watched her sister’s ears suddenly spasm, wildly flopping around and beating the ground. “Do you think that’s normal for her?”

“I don’t think that’s normal for anypony,” Marble replied, with a hoof over her mouth. “Should we get a doctor?”

“Mihihmph smph.” They both stared at Pinkie as her ears acted up again.

“What was that?”

“I said-” she started, prying her head from the dirt just in time for her left ear to clock her a good one in the face. “Hey, watch it!” she barked, only to have her right ear get in one last lick before settling down. “I said, it’s my ‘Pinkie Sense.’ It tells me all sorts of stuff before it happens.”

“Your… ears tell you the future?”

“Well, duh!” Pinkie said with an exasperated snort, blowing a few locks of her mane from her face. “Isn’t that what I just said?”

“So, uh… what does that… thing that just happened… what’s it mean?” Blinkie asked.

“Oh, just that someone’s gonna get really dirty.” Her sister’s didn’t seem to buy it. “Okay, if you wanna get technical, then a lot of ponies are about to get really dirty. Sorry, I should have been more clear.”

“And how do you suppose that’s-”

“SANDSTORM!” The shout tore through the town, leaving panic and chaos in its wake. The deep brazen tones of an alarm bell echoed through the marketplace where ponies were hastily stuffing their wares into the safest container they could manage and hightailing it towards the nearest structure. Marble and Limestone dashed out of the tent and stood rooted in dumbfounded horror as the billowing cloud loomed closer to the town. For whatever reason, the sandstorms they got at the rockfarm didn’t do much more than set a few dust devils loose, but the monolithic wall of howling wind and grit looked as though it would swallow the town whole.

“See? I told you ponies were gonna get dirty,” Pinkie pointed out with aggravating calm.

“We’ve gotta get back home!” Marble exclaimed, already beginning to panic.

“Inkie, there’s no time for that!” Limestone exclaimed, hurriedly packing their things. “Dad always said that the safest place in a storm would be the saloon. Come on!” Given how much they had already sold, there wasn’t much for them to carry, and within seconds they were tearing across town, but even in those few seconds the sandstorm had loomed far closer than they would have believed were possible. Barreling into the saloon, they were ushered out of the doorway by the stern looking proprietor. Following his instructions, they filed inside and huddled up in an unoccupied space. Looking to make sure that the streets were clear and nopony had been missed, the proprietor gave the signal to a few of his employees and within moments all of the entrances, windows, and vents had been boarded over, and just in the nick of time. The whole building shook as the sandstorm slammed into the sides.

“Sis!”

“Shhh, Inkie, shhh… it’ll be okay,” Blinkie said soothingly, holding the mare as she quaked.

“Alright, everypony, listen here!” the proprietor called out, his voice booming to be heard over the howling gale. “This building has withstood more storms than some of y’all have hairs on your heads. Don’t worry about a thing, now, ya hear? There’s plenty of food an’ drink to get us through for however long this lasts.”

“You hear that, sis?” Blinkie whispered, giving Inkie an extra squeeze. “He even said so. We’ll be safe here, so don’t worry about a thing.” “It sure doesn’t sound like this thing will last,” she thought to herself, listening to the timber creak. She glanced over at Pinkie, who sat ashen faced a short distance away. “We just can’t win, can we,” she pondered with a sigh. “I guess it could be worse. Celestia have mercy on anypony caught in that storm…”

“I got it…” That was all that Merry could think as he lay gasping for air through the bandana wrapped tightly around his muzzle. He wasn’t even sure how he had managed to catch whatever it was that he held against his chest, only that he had, and despite the blasting winds beating against his coat from every direction, there was an overwhelming calm filling the stallion’s heart. Sand, on the other hoof, was filling his ears, though it did little to mute the roar of the storm.

“I need to get out of here, but where can I go? I can’t see anything...” He didn’t dare to open his eyes for even a moment. To do so would be to risk permanent blindness in a storm that harsh, and he had lived in Dodge long enough to know how dangerous a position he was in. When he had leapt into the storm, the initial blast of the wall had sent him reeling, ruining any semblance of location. His entire body ached as he wrested himself upright into a sitting position, and it was only a few moments later that the driving wind slammed him down again. Ruefully apologizing to his everything for his cutie mark’s temporary descent into sadism, the stallion forced himself into a standing position, bracing himself against the tempest and finding that he could manage to stand, though only barely. The hoof that he had damaged in his fall from the roof was already beginning to swell, and it was with no small amount of exasperation that he regarded his cutie mark as it began once again to throb.

“You can’t reeeally expect me to listen to you again… could you?” Being stuck in the middle of a sandstorm wasn’t exactly Merry’s idea of fun, even if he was an earth pony being surrounded and coated in earth. He remained quiet for a moment, struggling within himself as his mark flared briefly, urging him onwards. “Everything in my head tells me to ignore what my cutie mark is telling me, but the last time that I did that, I…” It was an odd sensation, feeling himself shiver when he was already quaking, but the fleeting memory that gently called from the recesses of his mind brought him staggering to his hooves. He had ignored the calling once, and he had vowed never to do it again.

Merry only made it a few steps before he staggered and fell, and with one hoof occupied with holding onto the object in his grasp, it was painful. He got up again and staggered another few steps, and fell. “Why am I even bothering?” he wondered, dragging himself upright. “Will all this be worth it?” His questions garnered no answer, only the consistent urging within his heart to keep moving. He gave up counting the number of times he had stumbled as he blundered through the driving winds, and with growing exasperation he lay where had most recently fallen, his senses going numb from the harshness of the wind and the exhaustion that was adding weight to his every step. He clutched the package to his chest, because it was all he had left, and that’s when he found a flicker of hope.

“Wait, that smell…” he thought to himself. “It couldn’t be!” Wearily bringing the object he held up to his snout, he took a deep whiff and felt the flames rekindle. Though the storm had dulled many of his senses, it couldn’t beat out his extraordinary sense of smell, and that package carried with it two for which he would walk to the end of Equestria if it was asked of him. One of them he knew, that being the mare that had stayed with him and his sister for a few days less than a week prior.

“Rarity has such a nice smell, even if it is a little heavy on the hair chemicals,” he commented to himself, cuddling the package closer. “But this other one…” There was nothing quite like it. He had smelled it for the first time around a week prior, but no amount of searching had led him to the answer of what it was or where it came from, and within his hooves was possibly the key to lead him to the end of his search.

“I have to- oof!” His whimper was lost amongst the wind as he tried to stand, only to have his limbs outright refused. Lancing pains raced through his being, and he began to realize the reality that he wouldn’t be able to make it any further. “But… but I’m so close, I can feel it in my mark,” he pleaded within. “Just a few more steps! Just a few…” It was no use. His limbs had become completely unresponsive and he had lost feeling in almost everything but his cutie mark, which still throbbed faintly. He felt as though he should be crying, but he hadn’t even the strength left to do that. “I’m so sorry, Chai, I didn’t mean for this to happen,” was among his last thoughts as consciousness began to fade. “...but I couldn’t ignore what my cutie mark was telling me. I couldn’t… couldn’t let her down again…”

“I can’t believe I did that…” Seated a short distance from her sisters, whose quiet conversation was no doubt about her, Pinkie found herself wracked with growing feelings of shame. She swallowed hard as her stomach coiled itself in knots, reacting to the ever unpredictable and increasingly erratic machinations of her head and heart, but try though she may to convince herself that she had in that moment had plenty of reason to hurl the parcel to the stars, she couldn’t.

“It was a gift,” she had come to realize, “and gifts are meant to make ponies happy. But after the way I treated Rarity, I didn’t deserve anything at all. She was probably really upset when she left, so it makes total sense that she wouldn’t pack it like normal. Instead of feeling bad, I just threw it away, and now…” Her head hung lower. “Now I’ll never know what it was…” In all of her years as a party pony, Pinkie had never once refused a gift, nor received one with such a lack of gratitude, and her realization of that fact only made her feel even worse.

“Pinkie?” She glanced over at the sound of Limestones voice. “Pinkie, come over here. You don’t need to sit so far away.” Nodding, she quietly made her way over and took a seat in front of her two sisters who sat huddled underneath a blanket.

“Um, Pinkie?” Marble began, her quiet voice barely able to be heard. “Is there something the matter? You haven’t been yourself since you got the mail. I’ve been going through it,” she explained, pulling out a few letters, “but there isn’t anything scary in here. No monsters, no eviction notices, no radishes… nothing!” Though Pinkie would normally at least crack a grin, her look of dejection didn’t flicker. She sat quiet for a few moments before lifting her eyes and peering back at her siblings in a way that set them both on edge.

“I don’t want to burden them with my problems,” Pinkie thought, turning away. “I… I like to spread happiness, not frumpy grumbles. I came home because I knew it would be safe, but if that’s really what I believe, then why can’t I talk to them about it? About anything?” She pawed at the floorboards, somewhat at a loss. Though her family had all tried on numerous occasions since her return to weed out the root of her sorrows, she had always managed to evade their questions, but it was becoming more and more difficult for her to justify. She could see the concern etched in her sister’s faces, and she was fast starting to wonder if she were actually causing more harm than good keeping her worries to herself.

“I… I, um… sorry that it wasn’t very funny…” Pinkie immediately shook her head as Marble’s fragile voice called her back to the present.

“Not funny? Don’t be silly,” Pinkie hastily replied, scooting a little closer. She opened her mouth to continue, but instead fell quiet. “I need to talk to somepony about everything in my head before it explodes and make a great big, gooey mess…” There was nothing else for it. She needed to talk, to get a little bit off her chest before it all collapsed on top of her.

“Remember,” she said quietly, “when you asked me why I was so glum when I returned from the post office?” They both nodded. “Well, there was something else waiting for me there. One of my Ponyville friends sent me a present.”

“Oh, dear,” Marble murmured, her hooves covering her mouth in worry. “Was it... something mean?”

“No,” Pinkie shook her head, “at least… I don’t think so.” She took a deep breath and blew out a heavy sigh before continuing. “I kinda… accidentally… threw it into space.”

“...You what?” Limestone questioned, tilting her head. “Pinkie, that’s not even possible.”

“Well, I sure gave it a good try!” Pinkie retaliated, catching herself immediately and quieting down. “Just looking at it made my emotions go all crazy. I was happy and hurt and angry and sad and… and I just couldn’t make sense of anything!” Having raised her voice without meaning to, Pinkie once again had to take a moment to calm herself, though she could tell by her sisters’ expressions that they weren’t bothered. They were listening, and that was exactly what she needed.

“I still don’t understand how I feel right now,” she murmured, staring at the floor. “It’s like somepony just split me down the middle. Part of me is angry at all of my friends for being such meanie heads, but the other side of misses them, and another part of me… feels like I’m the problem.”

“Oh, Pinkie…” Moving as one, Marble and Limestone scooched over and drew Pinkie into their blanketed embrace. “It sounds like you’ve had a lot on your mind,” Limestone acknowledged, “but we’re glad that you’re talking to us about it.”

“R-really?” Pinkie sniffed, looking hopeful. “You mean you guys aren’t getting all covered in my sad?”

“Pinkie, we’ve all been covered head to hoof in sad since you came back,” Marble giggled, snuggling up closer to her big sis. “It’s not a bother, Pinkie. We’re family: we stick together through the good times and the bad. We love you, and we want to help in any way we can.”

“Thanks, girls,” Pinkie said softly, closing her eyes and taking comfort in her sister’s kind words.

“Pinkie, what actually happened in Ponyville that made you so upset?” Limestone immediately regretted asking the question as Pinkie went rigid.

“Th-that’s…” Marble shot Limestone a dirty look before she began stroking Pinkie’s mane as the mare buried her muzzle into her chest. Nothing was said for a few minutes, but eventually Pinkie pulled away, sniffling.

“That’s not… something I’m ready to talk about just yet. I’m sorry, I-”

“No need to explain, Pinkie, it’s fine,” Marble soothed. “We’ll be here whenever you’re ready, okay?” After a contrite nod, Pinkie again fell quiet, as did the other two Pie sisters. Though Pinkie hadn’t said much, she had given them plenty to think about. From the sound of it, her grievances extended beyond just the mare named Rarity that had come by the farm a week prior, but to all of her friends, and that only made the two more confused. Everything that they had read from the letters that Pinkie sent each month made life in Ponyville sound like a dream come true for their sister. They just couldn’t comprehend how things could have changed so quickly.

Pinkie Pie herself had also fallen into deep contemplation. Her sisters had confirmed that her mood had indeed been affecting them, and that it didn’t bother them in the slightest. She knew that this shouldn’t come as a surprise to her. Her friends had probably learned that lesson all several times over, the most notable example being when Applejack set out to harvest the entire orchard by herself to no avail. Thinking back, Pinkie could see how much joy it brought to herself and others when they were able to participate in solving others’ problems, but when it came to her own, she was even more stubborn than Applejack.

“I always did my best to cover it up when I wasn’t feeling well,” Pinkie reflected, watching her memories as they trickled by. “I never wanted anyone to feel sad because of me, and thought that if I just kept smiling, everything would be alright. But now… now I can barely find the strength to smile.” She shivered, drawing closer to her sisters to stave off the chill that quivered in her chest. “...I just don’t want to be alone.”

“Alrighty, folks!” Stirring at the sound of the call, Pinkie blinked out of her thoughts and looked over at the proprietor who stood by the doorway. “It looks like the storm has died down. Should be safe for y’all to go about yer business, but be sure to watch your step! There’s bound t’ be plenty of loose sand about.” Perking her ears, Pinkie realized that the howling wind had indeed died down, and she followed her sisters as they filed into line and stepped out into a town completely drenched with sand.

“Holy moley!” Pinkie exclaimed trotting into the middle of the street and spinning in a slow circle. “It’s… everywhere!” The once well defined path leading through the center of town had been replaced with expansive dunes of soft desert sand. Every roof was coated with several inches of loose earth, several signs had been blown away, and not a single tent had been left standing that had been left behind. Decks would need to be swept, the road cleared, and the more Pinkie looked around, the more she balked at the sheer amount of work that it would take to clear the roads. Her amazement soon shifted to regret as she realized that she would never know what it was that Rarity had sent, because there was no way that anything would be found after the sandstorm.

“Uh oh! We’re late!” Limestone exclaimed, looking at the sun as it dipped towards the horizon. “Pa is gonna be worried sick if we’re not home on time! We’ve never been late before, and- oooh, we’ve got to get a move on!” They knew that he was more than a touch protective, and if word of the sandstorm somehow reach him before they did, then they would be in for quite the scolding. Without further thought, the three took off as fast as they could manage and headed straight home.

Author's Notes:

There are a few things to make mention of, if I may. For those that may find the events portrayed in this chapter as unrealistic, I would like to point out that Pinkie is a character shown to have chased Rainbow Dash, who can fly fast enough to break the sound barrier, to the point of the mare being ragged without breaking a sweat herself. Having Pinkie throw a package clear out of town doesn't strike me as being particularly out of place, nor does a character with canine-like characteristic playing the ultimate game of fetch. Secondly, this was way more fun to write than having the package simply clock him in the head, and actually serves to accentuate a key element of Merry's nature. In essence... deal with it.

Holding On

Chai was beginning to worry. Not only had Merry not met up at their designated sandstorm shelter, but nobody that she asked had seen him. Her heart sank as she stepped out of the saloon after having learned that the proprietor hadn’t laid eyes on him at all that day. Despite her every effort to remain calm, the claws of panic were steadily increasing their hold over the mare with every passerby that hadn’t heard or seen anything of her brother since just before the storm blew in.

“Excuse me, but have you seen Merry at all today?” Chai asked a passing stallion, unable the mask the desperation bleeding into her voice.

“Sorry, miss, ain’t laid eyes on the lad since y’all served me this mornin’” he replied, shaking his head. “Ah thought fer sure he’d be with you. Ah’ll keep mah eyes out, though, an’ tell him he’d best hightail it back t’ his sister if’n he knows what’s good fer ‘im.”

“Thank you, I appreciate it,” she said, forcing a smile before turning away and continuing on her way. As she continued to ask around, she heard various accounts of him tearing through town around the time of the storm, but no word on why he was rushing about or what had come of his antics. Every conversation bred further disappointment and dread, but she was wrong in thinking that she had reached her limit, or that she couldn’t be made to feel worse.

“Have either of you seen Merry?” The couple in question shook their heads.

“Yeah, I seen ‘im!” Chai snapped to attention as the gruff voice sounded behind her. The stallion wore a sullen scowl and didn’t look all the pleased with the mare as she cantered over, but she couldn’t have cared less what anypony thought of her at that moment.

“You have? Please, sir, where is he?”

“Dang fool’s probably dead by now, that’s where.” There was a collective gasp from the onlookers at the statement.

“H-how could you say something like that?” Chai cried, simultaneously horrified and outraged. She was sore tempted to take a crack at shattering the sneering stallion’s jaw, but she didn’t need charges of assault being added to her list of things to fret about. “Tell me what you saw. Now.”

“Alright, alright, easy!” he exclaimed, catching the glint in the mare’s eye. “It was just a few moments before the storm hit that I see ‘im. Came tearin’ through the center o’ town like a bat outta Tartarus. I was just walkin’ along, mindin’ me own business when that thievin’ brat up an’ nicked my bandana right off my head! Naturally, I wasn’t about t’ let ‘im off easy, so I gave chase. Led me all the way towards the edge of town, and that’s when I saw him do the darndest, most idiotic thing a pony could do.”

“And that was?” Chai asked quietly, swallowing hard.

“Why, he jumped straight into the front of the storm!” Another gasp arose from the onlookers that crowded around. Chai sat down hard as the pony continued. “I always knew that he was a mite off in the head, but to go around stealin’ stuff just t’ jump into a storm? That pony ain’t just daft, he’s plumb mad! Foolhardy! Crazy in the-”

“Would you kindly be quiet?!” Chai snarled, scrambling to her hooves and towering over the cowering stallion. “If you say one more word about Merry, I’ll make you wish it had been you in the sandstorm.” Turning away from the muttering mess of stubborn obstinance, she turned back to the ponies that had crowded around with sympathy in their eyes. “Please, I know that you all have things to attend to and repairs that need your attention, but please… please help me find my brother.”

“Somepony get the mayor!” someone shouted from the crowd.

“Call for a search!” another voice chimed in.

“Gather at the general store, we’re gonna need torches!” a third called. With a flurry, the ponies dispersed, calling out orders and spreading the word. Chai watched with misty eyes as the whole town rose up with one accord, galvanized to action at the thought of her brother being in trouble. Within minutes, they had assembled in the town center where the mayor was speaking, and Chai arrived just in time to catch the tail end of it.

“...and I don’t need to remind y’all of what Merry has done fer this town,” the mayor continued with conviction. “When we’ve been down, he’s brought us back up. When one of us had reason to be sad, he’d meet us where we were at and turn our frown right around!” A rousing cheer rose from the crowd. “He’s done only right by us since the day he moved here with his sister. He may be a bit odd, and I know I’m not the only pony ‘round here that’s wondered who in blazes was sniffin’ at my mane.” A mixture of laughter and cheers followed the statement. “He might be a mite strange, an’ he might not march to the same beat as any of us, but he’s been there for us, and now it’s time for us to be there fer him! Get out there, and bring that stallion home!”

So great was the thunderous stamping applause that ripples raced through the sand, shaking even the foundations of the city. Tears streamed down Chai’s face in the wake of the mayor’s speech, and she could only nod her thanks as she was laden with words of comfort and encouragement by the ponies passing by. Her smile grew yet wider as she saw the bothersome coffee lover from earlier that morning among the crowd, and it was with gratitude that she turned to find the mayor with his hoof resting gently on her shoulder.

“Dry yer eyes, Miss Chai,” he said, his words carrying with them a genuine warmth. He was a rugged looking stallion, sporting a neatly kept moustache and well built even by earth pony standards. He wasn’t the sort to sit back and delegate when he could lend a hoof, and he had the town’s respect for it. “This town will shift every grain of sand if we have to t’ get yer brother home. Yer both a beloved part of this community, now. Merry has taught us all a thing or two over the years, and I know that these folk won’t rest until he’s home safe and sound. Here, take this.” Chai gratefully accepted the handkerchief and did what she could to make herself presentable.

“Thank you. Your kindness towards Merry means more than I can say.”

“Think nothing of it, miss,” he chuckled, helping her to her hooves. “It’s clear that he means the world to you, and that means a world to us. Why don’t ye swing by the saloon and take a load off? Just tell ‘em the mayor said to put it on ‘is tab.”

“I appreciate the offer, but I think right now I’d rather just have some tea,” she said, smiling weakly. “Alcohol has never really sat well with me.”

“As you wish, miss,” he said, tipping his hat. “Get some rest and try not to worry. We’ll let you know the moment we find ‘im.”

Thanking him one last time, Chai turned and made her way back to the center of the square. All manner of things had been tossed around, but after some searching she found her cart in about the condition that one would expect after a storm of that magnitude. A few nearby ponies helped her stand the thing upright, but she wasn’t sure if the thing would even be salvageable. The axles were completely shot, much of her brewing equipment had been dented, dinged, or warped beyond use, and she was sure most of her product had been spoiled. There were a hoofful of sealed jars that had survived, though even those she had to dig out of cupboards filled to the brim with sand.

“How are we ever going to pay to replace all this?” she wondered, sinking down behind the counter of the cart and holding her head in her hooves. Her insistence on growing her own herbs meant that they were limited to selling only what they could produce, and while business had grown in recent years, there were still months where they struggled to make ends meet. “If something has happened to Minty, I don’t think that I could go on. I’d have nothing left…” Her head drooped lower as she began to weep softly at the thought. “Luna, Celestia, anypony, please… You can take anything else, just… bring my brother home.”

Igneous looked less than thrilled as his daughters arrived in a disheveled mess, and a whole hour late no less. They were coated in more dust than should ever be accrued from the path between their farm and Dodge City, Marble looked like she had come face to face with the thing under the bed, Pinkamena seemed to have a terrible case of the shivers, and all three of them were haggard and out of breath. It was one of those moments when, as a parent, he was torn between giving them a stern dressing down for making him worry, or holding them in his arms because the worry was over. He did both.

“Where in Equestria have you girls been?” he asked, sweeping over and enfolding them in his tight embrace. “How many times have I told you not to stay out late? Don’t you know your father would worry?”

“We’re sorry, Pa, we didn’t mean to,” Limestone piped up as he pulled away.

“Didn’t mean to doesn’t make it alright, Limestone,” Igneous chided her, shaking his head. “You know that the rockfields are dangerous to traverse at night, and it’s already gettin’ dark out.” His tone softened as he heaved a sigh. “I’m just trying to keep you three safe.”

“We know, Pa, but it really wasn’t our fault,” Marble quietly explained. “A really big sandstorm hit Dodge while we were at the market.”

“A sandstorm?” Igneous exclaimed as a lump of solid parental worry fell with a splash into his stomach. It explained the unusually high number of dust devils that had swept through the fields earlier in the afternoon.

“We had to take shelter in the saloon,” Pinkie explained, stepping forward. “We barely had any warning before it hit the city. The warning bells didn’t go off until it was five minutes out, maybe less.” She dropped her gaze, remembering all the times she spent goofing around past curfew. “We’re really sorry for worrying you, father. We got home as soon as we could.”

“Don’t you worry about that, there’s nothing you could have done about the storm,” he murmured gently, hugging each one in turn. “I’m just glad to hear you’re alright. You three look like you’ve had a rough time of it, so why don’t you go upstairs and get cleaned up? Supper should be ready by the time you girls are finished.”

“Thanks, daddy,” Pinkie murmured, flashing a thankful smile before heading upstairs. She was elected to have first use of the shower, and she gratefully closed the door behind her, fumbled with the knobs, and listened as the ancient pipes creaked and groaned before a gentle downpour sprayed from the nozzle. For the first few minutes, she just stood there, letting the water coax the dust from her coat while her mind wandered. Pinkie had always preferred baths over showers on account of the inclusion of toys, and also the company of her pet alligator.

“That’s right, I left Gummi behind when I ran away…” She dipped her mane into the stream, staring down at the drain as the grime fell away, spiraling around her hooves before disappearing. “I miss him. The way he’d nibble on my mane, the cute way that he lets loose when he dances…” It brought a smile to her face, even though it hurt to remember what she had left behind. “I wonder if there’s some way I could sneak back into Sugarcube Corner to get him? Heh, probably not. The twins would catch me for sure. I miss them, too.” Glancing out from beyond the veil of her mane, she realized that there wasn’t any of her shampoo around. “Just another thing I left behind…”

There wasn’t much of a reason for her to linger in the shower. After making sure that she had gotten as much of the sand from her mane and tail as she was able, she switched off the flow, toweled off, and made straight for her room. A few passes with a brush set her mane in as much order as she cared to maintain, after which she curled up on her bed and set about staring out of the window, her head resting on the sill. Her mind was thinking way more than she wanted it to, but neither did she exert much of an effort to make it stop. She just felt drained, and it was with great eagerness that she regarded the distraction that she spied out the window.

“I wonder what that could be?” she muttered to herself, peering into the darkened fields. Making its way through the darkness was a little light that bobbed up and down as it moved. It was still a good ways off, but it became evident that it was getting closer to the house. Her curiosity roused, she hopped down from her bed, shuffled down the stairs, and made her way out to the porch. Her father, ever the protective sort, followed her out and stood beside her, and together they watched as a pony from Dodge meandered into view, her torch held loosely in her wing.

“Can we help you?” Igneous asked in a neutral tone.

“I sure hope so,” she said, obviously worried. Her mane was windswept and coated in dust, and she looked like she’d been flying for hours. “There was a sandstorm that swept through Dodge this afternoon, a real nasty one, too. We thought that everyone was accounted for, but we found out after the storm subsided that one pony didn’t make inside…”

“Oh my goodness!” Igneous looked over at his daughter who sat stricken by the announcement.

“We’ve been searching since dusk, but haven’t found anything. Have you seen any ponies wander through your fields?”

“No, I’m afraid I haven’t,” he explained, shaking his head ruefully. “Been out in the fields most of the day, but I didn’t lay eyes on nopony.”

“I see…” Disappointment caused the mare’s wings to droop along with her ears. “Of all the ponies that could get stuck in a sandstorm… it shouldn’t have been him,” she muttered, stomping a hoof before remembering her audience. “I know that it’s not your problem, but if you could lend any aid in finding him, the town of Dodge would be very grateful.”

“I’m sorry, but-”

“We’ll help!” Igneous turned towards his daughter with a disapproving frown.

“Don’t I have any say in this?”

“Whoever got lost out there is probably all alone!” Pinkie pressed. Though she couldn’t say why exactly it was that she felt so strongly about joining the search, what she did know is that her heart was being loud and clear. “I can’t imagine what it would be like to wake up, all covered in sand, with nopony there to help you home or even where to go… we can’t just do nothing! Please, daddy?”

“Alright, alright,” he sighed, capitulating to his daughter’s plea. It was the first time that Pinkie has shown some signs of life since she had returned, and that was motivation enough. “We’ll help out with the search, but only after my girls have been fed. I’m not sending them out there without a good meal to keep them going. Is that clear, Pinkamena?”

“Of course, daddy. Thank you…” The relief in her voice washed away whatever remained of Igneous’ misgivings about the whole thing. Waving the pegasus off and ushering Pinkie back inside, Igneous took a seat at the table while Pinkie Pie trotted circles around the room, unable to sit still. It wasn’t long before her sister’s came downstairs for supper, and Pinkie immediately relayed that they too would be taking part in the search. They didn’t mind particularly, and seeing Pinkie energized about something was gladdening to see, but the extent of Pinkie’s drive confounded them. They scarfed down their food in a hurry before trailing after Pinkie, who bolted to the shed the moment her sisters had finished.

“Alright, here’s your lanterns,” Igneous explained, passing out a kerosene lamp to each of the three. “These only have enough fuel for three hours of light, so make sure you get back home before then. That clear?”

“Yessir, thanks!” Pinkie blurted out, hurriedly snatching the lantern and taking off down the road.

“Keep an eye on her, please,” he said with a sigh, looking to his other two daughters. “I don’t know what’s gotten into her, and chances are nothing I say would change her mind. Keep each other safe, and please… try not to worry your parents, alright?”

“We’ll try, Pa,” Limestone attested. “Come on, Marble, we gotta catch up!” Taking hold of their lanterns, they dashed off into the night.

The amount of destruction that the sandstorm had brought was more immense than Chai had first imagined. Her cottage was far enough away from Dodge and close enough to the forest that the few sandstorms they had each year didn’t typically affect their home. Her somber expression turned crestfallen as she stumbled to a stop before her desecrated garden. Every frond was coated with dust, every stem mangled, snapped, and blasted flat by the gale force winds. She sank to the dust as her gaze swept over the loss, and she couldn’t keep herself from wondering how they would possibly recover.

She couldn’t say how long she sat there, but the evening cool had begun to beat back the heat of the day by the time she wearily dragged herself up the cobblestone walk. Fatigued by the thought of doing anything other than passing out, she passed by the shower and flopped herself into bed, though rest was far from her. Even with the assurance that she would be notified the moment anything was known of her brother and his wellness, all she could think about was how frightened and frail she felt. It was moments like those that reminded her just how dependant upon his company she had become.

“Tea, I need… tea,” she thought, dreading the concept of movement but knowing that she wasn’t going to get to sleep anytime soon. Plodding into the kitchen, she set about mixing a specific blend that she had learned from her mother to promote rest and calm frayed nerves. Being a calm pony by nature, it wasn’t often that she found cause to partake of the family remedy, but just the scent of her old favorite helped to soothe the racing of her mind.

With a groan, she lowered herself onto the couch and lay sipping her tea, listening to the clock as it measured each passing second. Her mind began to wander back to the days her youth, of the days when they were young and carefree. She smiled in spite of herself as she recalled their playful bickering, but the smile faded as she remembered something of which both of them rarely spoke, and the fallout that followed. From there, she began to put two and two together, and suddenly, her brother diving headlong into a sandstorm didn’t seem quite so crazy.

“It was your Minty sense, wasn’t it,” she realized, watching the steam rise from her mug. He had mentioned it that morning, but she hadn’t expected that it would come on so strong. She also knew that there was nopony, not even her, that would have been able to keep him from following the call. “Especially not after…” Chai cut herself off, sinking deeper into the cushions and taking a deep draft of tea. Her thoughts were beginning to blend together, and she knew that the potent brew was beginning to take effect, though one escaped intact as she drifted off to sleep.

“You’d do anything for her, wouldn’t you… You always will.”

It had taken a while, but Pinkie eventually slowed to a more manageable pace at her sisters’ behest. Despite the light of the stars and the cloudless skies, their progress was slow, as the rocks strewn about the fields mandated a measure of caution with every step and the haze leftover from the storm made everything seem much darker than it usually would be. They searched dutifully, but after more than two hours of scouring the barrens, their fuel had begun to dwindle, and their time was running out.

“We should probably be heading back.”

“We can’t head back yet! We haven’t found the missing pony yet!” Pinkie argued, shooting Limestone a pleading look. “We can’t just leave him out here, Blinkie. C’mon, he’s gotta be around here somewhere!” Limestone heaved a sigh as she watched Pinkie leap onto a sizable boulder to get a better vantage point. She had been running them all ragged over the issue, and Blinkie’s patience was beginning to thin.

“Pinkie, we tried our best,” she reasoned, glancing over at Marble who had hunkered down and lay shivering from the cold. “It’s getting late, Marble is gonna catch cold, and we’re all going to get scolded if we don’t hightail it back to the house!” Pinkie didn’t budge, but instead kept scanning the horizons. “We’ve already worried father once, Pinkie. We don’t need to do it again. Come on! We’re going home.”

“Wait!” Pinkie cried, scrambling over and barring the way. “Can’t we search just a few more minutes?”

“No, Pinkie, we can’t!” Limestone snapped back, raising her voice. “We came out, we tried our best, and there’s nothing more we can do!”

“We can keep searching!”

“Why the hay is this so important to you?!”

“Because I don’t want him feeling abandoned like I do!” The words tore from Pinkie’s throat before she had the chance to worry about whether or not it was alright for her to open up. “There’s nothing worse than feeling like you’re all alone,” she went on, struggling to restrain her frustration and bitterness from creeping into her words. “It’s why I left Ponyville, it’s why I dragged us out here, and why we have to keep looking! I mean,” she faltered, her voice trembling as her emotions yet again began to knot. “What if he has a family? He’s all alone out there, and if something happens to him, then they would be all alone, and… and…”

“And we won’t be able to find anything if we run out of light,” Limestone explained quietly, taking a glance at their sputtering lantern. “We’ve already stayed out later than we should. Father won’t be happy if we come stumbling back in the dark. C’mon, Pinkie,” she urged her sister gently, drawing up beside her and resting a hoof on her shoulder. “There’re plenty of ponies out looking for the missing pony, and we need to be heading back.”

There were a few moments of uncomfortable silence before Pinkie finally nodded. She knew that her sisters were right, but the thought of being in that other pony’s position tore her apart. There was nothing that she hated more than the feeling of being alone. It was exactly the reason she left Ponyville, and it was why she could barely find it in her to walk as the started back home. By the time they stepped onto the porch, Pinkie was in no condition to do much else save crawl into bed, and while she would have forced herself to keep going, her father’s stern gaze made it clear that she wasn’t going anywhere.

“It’s too dark to go back out there tonight,” Igneous stated clearly. “For all we know, the missing pony might have already be found. Either way, we’ll find out tomorrow, but for now, I want all of you to get some rest. There’s work to be done in the morning. Go on, now,” he said motioning them inside, “get yourselves to bed.”

“...Okay.” It was the most hopeless affirmation that Igneous had heard, and his heart sank as he watched Pinkie slink inside. The worry she knew she was causing her family only weighed more heavily on her head. Her sheets offered little warmth and her bed little comfort as she curled under the covers and pulled a pillow over her head, wishing with all her strength that whoever it was that was lost could somehow find it in their heart to forgive her. Being miserable was something that she had plenty of experience with, and she would have willing taken on more if it meant that she could be sure whoever it was that was lost was safe.

“Owwie...” Merry couldn’t even manage to groan as he slowly regain consciousness. His tongue had glued itself to the roof of his mouth and didn’t seem to have any intention of moving, though when set alongside the body wide aches that wracked his being in agonizing pain, it wasn’t that much of an issue. He couldn’t hear anything at all, and were it not for the fact that his everything was calling him all sorts of dirty names that he didn’t dare repeat, he would have assumed himself to be asleep. His first attempted movement resulted in a dull throb racing down his spine and a whole lot of not moving.

“Ouch. Heavy. Ouch and heavy.” Everything, from his hooves to his ears, felt incredibly heavy, which was confusing because he was typically light on his hooves. Cracking open his eyes was a mistake, as they immediately filled with sand, though it turned out to be an oddly motivating annoyance. Groaning softly as he struggled to move a foreleg, he finally managed to get a hoof over to paw at his eyes amidst much protest. Blinking away the grit, he grimaced as he craned his neck to get a good look at himself.

“Oh, no wonder it’s heavy. I’m a sand pony.” A sand pony, and one that was half buried at that. He couldn’t see anything past the base of his neck on account of the rest being under a sizable mound of sand. Actually, even the limb that he had freed felt inordinately weighty, and he couldn’t help but take mild amusement at how much effort it took him to move his hoof over to the pile of sand. Closing his eyes as a gentle breeze threatened to deposit further funds into the bank of ocular aggravation, he lay still and listened, figuratively speaking, to the many pings of pain.

“Hoof: pain. Ear: pain. Hind leg: really pain,” he noted to himself, cataloging the grievances as they sounded one by one. “...Ouch, even my hoohoo hurts.” Of the waking experiences he had encountered, waking to a sand-blasted hoohoo was pretty high on the list of things he could do without. As he continued to rest, listening to his body bemoan its sorry state of affairs, he frowned under the bandana still wrapped around his muzzle; The tingling sensation in his cutie mark hadn’t left, and was even now calling him towards some unknown destination.

“Haven’t I done enough?” he thought, feeling a tinge of resentment. “I’m tired, I hurt all over, and I’m thirsty. Isn’t that good enough?” A heavy sigh caused his bandana to balloon as his mark gave a faint pulse. “You’re right, I’m sorry. I just need to trust you a little bit longer.” Reaching over, he removed the bandana from around his muzzle and forced his heavy-lidded eyes open once more, really taking stock of his situation. Before anything else could be done, he had to get himself unburied, and this he started on with all the energy he could muster. Fortunately, the storm had ended not long after he had passed out, so the actual amount of sand to shift was fairly minimal. Having uncovered most of his lower body, he gave a tentative tug and popped free, rolling onto his side.

“Freedom!” Merry cheered internally, shuddering as his back gave a victory spasm. He couldn’t imagine what standing up was going to feel like, so instead he decided to skip the whole imagining bit and give it a shot. This proved ineffective, however, as his left foreleg seemed irrevocably glued to his chest. “Is this… it is!” he exclaimed to himself, peering down at the parcel still held his grasp. It brought him a strange sensation of comfort, seeing that the package was safe. He still had no idea why it was important enough for him to risk his life, but that wasn’t his concern. Standing, however, was.

“Nnnngh… alright, up and at ‘em!” He barely made it halfway up before his legs wobbled and set him down hard, bringing with all sorts of new information, detailing how many muscles he had probably pulled and, judging by the swollen shape of his right hind leg, bones he had possibly fractured. “Come on, now, we can- oof! We… can… do… this!” Were it not for his parched throat, he would have cried out alongside his shrieking limbs as he forced himself to stand. The pain was threatening to knock him out, and he closed his eyes as his vision began to cloud.

“...You can’t ask me to go if you won’t give me what I need to get there.” Merry stood rooted, panting softly for air and trying not to cry out. He knew what he needed to do, or at least what he wanted to do, but he had taken tally, and the odds were stacked against him. And yet, despite everything barring his path, a grin came unbidden to his lips as his mark flared, sending a soothing tingle rippling through his limbs, quieting the ache just enough that he could walk. To where, he couldn’t say, but he picked a direction that felt right and took his first step forward. And then another… and another.

Merry Mint had never had any misgivings about being an earth pony, but for just that evening he really wish he could have been anything else. Shifting the parcel to his mouth, he freed up another leg and hobbled along, not paying much attention to where he was trotting or how far he had come. The landscape around him began to shift, and found himself stumbling over the many rocks that were strewn all over. Onward he continued until his injured hoof caught on a rock, and with a raspy squeak Merry tumbled to the ground, unable to rise. He lay panting for breath, in complete acknowledgement of how little sense his behavior made.

“I wonder if I made the right choice…” He shuddered as his confidence faltered. If he didn’t find somepony soon, then it was entirely possible that he wouldn’t make it back to town alive, not in his present condition. “I don’t want to give up, not yet.” He grimaced, pushing with all his might to try and rise, to no avail. Peering through blurry eyes, he could see a little light wavering in the distance. Straining to get his eyes to focus, he could just barely make out the silhouette of a house. “Is that where I need to go?” His mark pulsed.

“...Alright.” Straining with all his might and gasping from the pain, the stallion forced himself into a standing position. “I trust you. I’ll take care of the walking if you can take care of the rest.” One hoof in front of the other, Merry staggered on. He hadn’t the strength to keep his destination in his sights, the strain of keeping his head raised too much to bear, but he kept moving. He didn’t realize he had made it to the the farmhouse until he tripped on the steps, falling with a painful and resounding thud.

“I’m sorry… that’s all I have,” he whispered in his heart. His limbs were completely unresponsive, and for the second time that day, he felt his consciousness slipping away. He couldn’t hear the door as it cracked open or the startled cries of the pony rushing to his side. All he knew is that he had given his all, and even that hadn’t been enough. He felt one last pulse from his flank before everything went quiet.

“By Celestia, son, what’ve you done to yourself…” Even with the allowance of darkness and the lack of light, Igneous could tell that the pony passed out on his porch was in dire shape. His hind ankle had swollen to nearly double its size, the poor stallion’s coat had been whipped raw, and even at close quarters, Igneous couldn’t tell what color his mane or coat once was. Igneous was certain that this was the pony that the town had been searching for, and he grit his teeth as his indifferent and selfish words brought with them the taste of disgust in his mouth.

“This is someone’s son, for crying out loud, and I wouldn’t have-” He slammed his hoof down, splintering a few boards. “Intentions be damned. Pinkie had it right all along, and now it’s time to do my part. Cloudy!” he bellowed, “Get me a lantern!” Knowing better than to argue or ask questions, she quickly filled a lantern with kerosene and rushed it out, stopping in her tracks as she saw her husband lifting the stallion onto his back.

“Igneous, is that…”

“It must be,” he nodded, slinging the stallion across his shoulders. “He’s taken more of a beating than any poor kid should have to endure. Wind whipped his hide raw, and it looks like he may have broken an ankle.”

“What could possibly be worth going out into a sandstorm?” she wondered, her heart going out for the colt as she neared.

“That’s not for you or I to say, but if I had to take a guess, he’s holdin’ it.” It wasn’t until her husband had said something that she realized the stallion was holding tightly to some kind of parcel. “Kid has some kind of death grip on it. Whatever it is, it must be important to him.”

“Dad? Wh-what’s going on?” The parents both turned to find Marble standing in the doorway with Limestone hot on her heels. They had hoped to spare the girls having to see, but that didn’t look to be an option.

“Is that the pony that got lost?” Limestone asked, her eyes glued to his battered frame.

“It sure looks to be,” Igneous confirmed, looking at the fear in his daughter’s eyes. “I know it looks bad, but I’m gonna make sure that he gets to Dodge safely, so I don’t want none of you fretting over this, you hear?”

“O-okay,” Limestone nodded, instantly moving to Marbles side.

“There’s a good girl. Now, go on back inside and tell Pinkamena that she doesn’t have to worry anymore. This stallion is gonna be just fine.” Igneous watched them reluctantly head back inside before turning away and making haste towards their cart. Gently, he slid the stallion from his back into the bed of the cart and hurriedly fixed the harness around his neck, though he paused as his wife shuffled over and place a calming hoof on his cheek.

“This isn’t your fault, Igneous,” Cloudy assured him gently.

“...I just want to see my girls smile again,” he whispered. “Pinkie hasn’t been herself since she came home, and I feel like my hooves are tied, like I can’t do anything to help.” Helplessness filled the rugged parents with tears as he stamped a hoof. “I’d do anything to see them laughing like they used to. I don’t know why finding this pony is so important to Pinkie, and I don’t much care. I’ve got to see him safe, and I will.”

“And I’ll be waiting for you when you get back,” she said warmly, giving him a quick kiss. “Now go, Igneous. There’s not a moment to lose.” There wasn’t, and he didn’t. Igneous wasn’t as young as he once was, but he could still kick up dust, and with the lantern lighting his way, he tore off down the road for Dodge City.

End of the Line

Pale golden light of the late afternoon sun filtered through the weathered slats of the hospital shutters, adding a comforting warmth to offset the rather rudimentary bedding of the old cot Merry woke to find himself lying upon. Groaning quietly as his many aches were roused, he curled his tail up to his chest and nestled deeper into the covers, considerably more miserable than he had been in quite some time, though it wasn’t only on account of his regrettable condition. Beneath the faint burn of his excoriated hide and the throb of his strained muscles was the fear that everything he had done the previous night had been for naught. He hadn’t made it to where he had been urged to go, and he was certain that he had missed his chance. It wasn’t until he found himself clinging to his tail that he realized something else was missing.

“The package!” he exclaimed, lurching forward and immediately regretting it. Coughing weakly and shuddering as his body summarily labeled him the biggest dunce in the history of blockheads, he forced himself to wait until the urge to toss the worst kinds of cookies had passed before cracking open his eyes. They didn’t like the light, but he couldn’t help but marvel as he fixed his attention the nearby nightstand that was surrounded with all manner of gifts. A basket lay on the floor, chock full of muffins, cookies, and an assortment of dried fruits, as far as his nose could tell. A snazzily wrapped box of cupcakes sat nearby with a small sack of candy perched on top, and the nightstand itself was littered with get well cards. And, much to his relief, the package that he had chased into the storm had not been lost to him, but sat a within hoof’s reach at the foot of the bed.

“Thank goodness,” he whispered, gathering the parcel into his hooves. “At least I have something to show for all of this…” Realizing that he wasn’t entirely sure what a “this” was and that he hadn’t actually had the chance to find out, he pulled away and looked over the package, still quite filthy from the storm though surprisingly still well wrapped. “From: Rarity. Carousel Boutique, Fairway Lane, Ponyville. Well, that explains the Rarity smell!” Chuckling to himself, his eyes roamed down to the recipient. “Pinkie Pie? Never heard of a Pinkie Pie, and I know most everypony in this town…” Pausing for a moment, he lowered his snout and took a tentative whiff of the package, only to pull away with a look of disbelief.

“This package… it’s coated in mystery smell!” For the last week, Merry had spent many an hour of his spare time scouring the town to try and identify a fragrance that was unfamiliar to him. Learning and identifying various aromas was something of an obsession for the pony, and one of the many more canine-like characteristics that he displayed on a common basis besides profuse tail wagging. He knew everypony in town by virtue of their scent alone, could identify where somepony had traveled by the dirt on their hooves, and could even list what ingredients were in a dish within moments of being served. His olfactory sense had always been above par, and he had honed it to a science over the years, but the sweet, comforting spice that wafted faintly from the package in his hooves had eluded him for a while.

“This is great!” he thought excitedly, taking in another draft and getting a few loose grains of sand up the snout. “This could- cou…” “Wachoo!” Moaning pitifully as the convulsion again reminded him that he had, in fact, dove into a sandstorm, he adopted a pout and looked down at the sandy spray he had left on the sheets. “Thaaat’s gross. Ick.” Sniffling, he turned his attention back to the parcel. “This could lead me straight to the mystery smell. That would be awesome! But… that couldn’t be worth leading me into a sandstorm, could it?” It was in the stillness of his thoughts that he felt the aggravating throb of his cutie mark.

“You can’t be serious…” he reasoned, fixing his flank with a scowl and gritting his teeth. “How could what I’ve been through still not be enough for you?” he demanded, his chest welling with frustration and bitterness. “Look at those cards! Every single one of those ponies was probably worried sick! And my sister-” He faltered, his voice dropping to a murmur. “I’ll bet she’s super worried…” Sure enough, at the top of the stack of mail was a note with Chai’s distinctive script, and he laid the parcel aside as he opened the letter.

“Merry,

I’m sorry that I can’t be there when you wake. That storm was a bad one, and it destroyed our tea cart and almost all of the garden. I wish that I could be there, but there’s too much work for me to do, and I can’t do it myself. I don’t know what possessed you to get caught out in a sandstorm, and I’m not sure that I want to know. What matters most is that you’re safe. Please, come home soon, little brother. I miss you already… even if you are a butt.

Love, Chai”

“Sis, I… I’m sorry,” he murmured, hanging his head in shame. He knew all too well that the next few months would be the hardest they had faced in a while. Their finances were unstable to begin with, and the cost of cart repairs, the delay for growing new herbs, and now a hospital bill, just didn’t add up. Teasing didn’t often phase him, but at that moment, he really did feel like the world’s biggest butt.

“No more,” Merry told himself, hardening his gaze. “No more of this. I’ve been running on a fool's errand. I’ve left my sister alone when she needs someone by her side the most. This has to stop. You’ve asked too much.” His mark throbbed as he pulled back the sheets and gingerly lowered himself to the floor, finding very quickly that he couldn’t support any kind of weight on his heavily bandaged hind ankle.

“Be quiet,” he muttered, hanging his head as his mark gave another gentle pulse. “You’ve caused enough trouble already. I’m taking whatever this thing is back to the post office where it belongs.” Snatching up the package, he tossed it onto his back and took a few hobbling steps before it slipped onto the floor with a dull thud. Merry Mint wasn’t a pony prone to bouts of anger, but he had had just about enough trouble from the thing. Grasping the bindings in his jaws and muttering around the twine, he threw open the door and ambled out to the desk.

“Merry?” the nurse at the desk said, sounding confused. “What are you doing out of bed? The doctor had wanted to keep you in bed for another day to rest.”

“No,” he said flatly, dropping the package loudly to the floor. Merry saw the mare give a start both from the noise and his tone, prompting him to take a few moments to calm himself. He knew it wasn’t her fault that his cutie mark was giving him grief, and she had sounded genuinely concerned. “As much as I would love to take the time to rest, I can’t reeeally justify staying,” he explained, donning a rueful smile. “The sandstorm wrecked a ton of my sister’s stuff, and she needs my help back home. Right after I get rid of this thing,” he added with a mutter, sticking his tongue out at the parcel.

“Oh, I see,” she replied, relaxing considerably. “I guess it can’t be helped then. I’ll let the doctor know, and have your gifts sent to your house.”

“Thank you~!” He stooped down with a grunt and retrieved the package before making his way towards the door, eager to be on his way.

“Whatever is in that parcel must be really important to you.” Merry froze as the mare’s voice sounded behind him. For reasons that he couldn’t understand himself, the words rocked him, and he craned his neck around to stare at the mare as she smiled back. “You were holding onto it when they found you, and you kept it tight all the way to the hospital. Even when you were out cold, the doctor still had to pry it from your hooves. A package isn’t safe until it’s delivered, Merry. Keep it safe.”

Turning without a word, the thoroughly conflicted stallion stepped out into the late afternoon sun with an incredible weight hanging over his shoulders. He did his best to return the cheerful greetings of the townsfolk as they expressed their relief that he was safe and congratulated his bravado for facing the storm and living to tell the tale, but their praise only made his ears droop lower. As of that moment, he had accomplished nothing but spreading worry where he relished in spreading cheer, and it was with a heavy head that he slogged to a stop in front of the post office.

“What do I do?” he wondered, torn between his head and his heart. That package wasn’t his, he had been through more than enough to keep it safe, even the slightest of movements seemed to hurt, and his sister was no doubt anxiously awaiting his return. There was no legitimate, logical reason for him to do anything other than walk through the doors before him and give the package back to the postmaster. In his heart, however, the yearning that had driven him into the heart of the storm still quietly pleaded for him to keep walking, to follow the path out of town and to a destination that he didn’t even know. He remembered the words of his sister and lifted a hoof, only to cringe as a tingling ripple emanated from his cutie mark, bringing to mind the nurse’s parting commission. Stubbornly stamping his hoof down, he shuddered as another pulse washed over him, followed by another, and another

“Why…” The package dropped to the ground in plume of dust. “Why can’t I just go home? I’m tired of not knowing why this is happening…” No answer came as he stood rooted in place, fighting back tears of frustration, only the ever-present whisper of his cutie mark telling him to hold out and carry on just a little longer. He knew that he had the capacity to ignore it, that if he truly wanted it to stop, then he could bend it to his will and make it disappear, but the thought of doing so made his stomach churn. He had done that only once, and had promised himself that he would never do it again.

The last of the grime from another hard day in the rock fields was stripped away by the cleansing flow of the shower. Pinkie had warmed the water to the highest temperature she could stand in an attempt to ward away the shivers while her mind wandered back to the search the previous night. She had been relieved when her sister’s relayed the news that the lost pony had been found, but in its wake she found herself with even more questions than the ones that she was already studiously trying to avoid. Her denial wasn’t made any easier by the fact that her sister’s had actually thanked her for sharing what was on her mind at the saloon, and only added to her confusion as lathered shampoo into her mane and began to scrub.

“I thought that coming here would make me feel safe,” she recalled, working the suds into her tail. “I mean, it’s not like I feel like I’m about to get eaten or anything, but… I don’t understand why it’s so hard to talk to my family.” Her thoughts were delayed for a moment as she rinsed her mane and began applying some of her sisters’ conditioner, noting how long her mane was when it was flat. “It’s not like they’ll be upset with me… if anything, they’ll be upset with my friends. I don’t want that, or… do I? I just don’t know anymore…” Another shiver raced up her back, starting at the tip of her dock all the way to her ears and through her legs, making her lament her family’s lack of a tub, and the lack of an alligator in the tub as well. Running away wasn’t working as well as she would have hoped.

“If I wasn’t so angry with all of them, I’d probably go back to Ponyville tonight,” Pinkie mused, giving her hair one last rinse before shutting off the flow and stepping out into a hazy sea of steam. “Actually, don’t think angry is quite the right word. Upset? No, not quite that either. Hurt? But it’s more than that…” She stopped drying her mane and heaved a sigh, watching the steam swirl around. “Twilight would know a good word…”

Knowing that her sisters were patiently waiting for their turn, Pinkie finished toweling off and went straight to her room and curled up on her bed, letting the afternoon light sifting through windows warm her back. She had had many a staring contest with the wall in recent days, but fortunately for the wall, she wasn’t feeling much like competition. Though her limbs were tired and she had put forth more effort than Big Mac in a day at the orchard, Pinkie couldn’t seem to find any sort of rest as her thoughts continued to parade around her mind. She stopped paying attention fairly quickly, choosing instead to simply let them tire themselves out running in circles while she watched from a distance, detached and uninvolved. It made it easier to stave off the pain that inevitably arose when she tried to understand what her heart was doing. She had almost manage to doze off when a knock on her door stirred her back to wakefulness.

“Y-yes?” she called out sitting upright.

“May I come in?”

“Of course you can, silly. It’s your house,” she said with a feeble giggle as her father entered the room. “What’s up?”

“Well, I was hoping you could tell me,” he chuckled, taking a seat beside her on the bed.

“Huh? What do you mean?” Pinkie replied, watching him expectantly. She was somewhat perplexed by his comment. He didn’t look angry, and she hadn’t done anything especially strange that afternoon. In fact, since she had come back from her fruitless search the night before, she had been nothing if not obedient, and hadn’t spoken much to anypony that day. As he began to talk, she realized that was exactly the problem.

“Pinkie, I know you’re a grown mare now,” Igneous began, his gruff voice coming out gentler than most knew it could. “It isn’t my place to meddle where my nose don’t belong, and you’re entitled to your privacy. However,” he continued in an even softer tone, “you wouldn’t be here if something hadn’t happened.” She dropped her gaze, fidgeting with her hooves. “We love you dearly, Pinkamena, and we’re all happy that you’ve come home, but you aren’t yourself.”

“You noticed, huh?” she said, dangling her hooves over the side of the bed.

“‘Mena, even a total stranger could see that you aren’t meant to frown,” Igneous attested, shaking his head. “The rest of us all have rocks on our flank, but you? Balloons. Bright, festive balloons that make ponies smile. This sad, quiet pony? That isn’t you, Pinkamena…”

“But it is,” she protested quietly. “Don’t you remember when I was little? I was always sad.”

“Not always…” He grimaced, mentally kicking himself as she dropped her gaze to the floor, her legs swinging to a stop. “Way to go, Igneous. You come in here to try and help her out, and instead you make her remember the thing that tore her heart out. I knew I was bad at talkin’ but this is just-”

“Dad, stop,” she whispered, placing a hoof on his shoulder. “You’re right. I… I wasn’t always sad.” She didn’t even have time to let off the first tear before she found herself nestled within the safety of her father’s powerful embrace, and for the next few minutes she let them spill out onto his coat. For reasons that she couldn’t begin to explain, her father’s hugs had always found a way to calm her down as a filly. Perhaps it was because he wasn’t the touchy feely type and they weren’t as frequent as she would have hoped, but she was thankful nonetheless. And, even though they weren’t talking, she felt as though her fragmented thoughts were slowly piecing themselves together as she dried her eyes.

“...I’m sorry.”

“Now, what’re you apologizin’ for?” he asked, looking down at his daughter as she sniffled.

“For being all mopey and spazzy,” she conceded, dropping her gaze.

“You haven’t done any wrong by us, Pinkamena,” he assured her, gently nudging her chin so he could look her in the eyes. “You’re precious to us, and there ain’t no amount of moping that’ll change that.” It was brief, but it was definitely a smile that he saw rise to her muzzle. “You know that you can talk to me about anything, right?” She didn’t respond at first, appearing to be deep in thought.

“...Anything?” she said after a time.

“Anything at all, ‘Mena,” he confirmed, giving her a squeeze. “I’m not always the best with words, and Celestia knows that I’ve been wrong a time or two, but there’s nothin’ I wouldn’t do to help any of my daughters, and that means you.”

“This wasn’t nearly as hard as I thought it would be,” she thought to herself, falling quiet again. There was still a lot of anxiety at the thought of just letting everything out at once, but she knew that something had to give. If she continued the way she was going, she was only going to continue dragging everypony down, regardless of what they said, and it was with that in mind that she steeled herself and decided to test the waters. “Have you… ever been scared to talk to somepony?”

“Geez, Pinkamena, I was worried about comin’ up here,” he explained with an encouraging chuckle.

“I’m not that scary, am I? I mean, I know I can be a little loopy, but…”

“It ain’t about you, Pinkamena, it’s about myself,” he said, shaking his head. “There are plenty of times when I’ve kept silent, and plenty that I’ve said more than I needed to. Our words don’t always come out right, and that can make you right afraid to say anything at all. But you know what I’ve learned?” Pinkie shook her head. “The friends that were important t’ me were the ones that I gave a piece of my mind, and the ones that were worth havin’ were the ones that stuck around.” He looked towards the window and sighed. “I’ve fallen off with plenty of ponies that I thought were my friends, but the ones that stuck around are still my friends to this day.”

“Daddy has friends?” The thought had honestly never occurred to her before. “B-but I never see you with anyone, and you never go on long trips, or… or...”

“Just because we live miles apart doesn’t mean that we aren’t friends,” Igneous laughed, grinning down at Pinkie. “A friend isn’t just somepony that you can have a good time with, Pinkamena. Life has a habit of throwin’ rocks in the gears, and sometimes, stayin’ close just isn’t an option. A true friend isn’t just entertainment, they’re ponies that you know would be there for you in the blink of an eye if you asked. They ain’t perfect, nopony is, but they can carry you through the rough waters if you let them. And,” he added with a teasing hint in his voice as Cloudy poked her head in, “sometimes you find a friend that refuses to leave.”

“As I recall it, it was you that couldn’t leave,” she countered, indulging a quiet laugh as she entered. “Friendships aren’t always easy, as I’m sure you know, but they are worth it. Also, a hard day of work is worthy of a fitting meal. Supper is waiting when you two are ready.”

“Thank you, dear, we’ll be along shortly.” Igneous looked fondly upon his mare as she left before turning back to his daughter. “Was there anything else that you wanted to ask?”

“W-well…”

“Ask away, Mena, I can tell there’s somethin’ on your mind,” he pressed, noticing his daughter’s hesitation.

“...What happens if you’re the one that hasn’t been a true friend?” There was a brief silence as Igneous mulled over the heavy question. He would have liked to have been able to give a gentle answer, but there just wasn’t any easy way to undo one’s wrong, and while he didn’t know much about Pinkie’s friends other than what he had read in her letters, he did know that some ponies weren’t as forgiving as others.

“If… if you’re the one that messed up, then it’s up to you to make things right,” he said firmly. “Pointing your hoof at others’ mistakes doesn’t excuse you of your own, and your conscience won’t be right as long as you’re carrying on, knowing that there’s somepony you’ve wronged, even if they’ve wronged you just as much. It may hurt, and they may not forgive, but if you can’t swallow your pride and apologize, then you’re sayin’ that they aren’t worth the effort. But if there’s one thing that I know about you,” he concluded with a smile, “it’s that there’s nothing more important to you than your friends and family.”

If there were any way Pinkie could have brought herself to believe her father’s encouraging words, she would have. It was true that she had crafted her life around the presence of her close friends, and for a very long time that had filled her heart with the laughter that she delighted in sharing, but somewhere along the way, something inside had shifted. She hadn’t the strength to stifle her whimper as she began to understand the reason behind her divided emotional state. The clarity that she had longed for came without warning, and her head bowed as she acknowledged the truth that she hadn’t known that she knew, and the one that she hadn’t the strength to face: her friends weren’t the problem. It was her.

It had been her from the start.

Merry couldn’t remember a single time that he had ever felt so monumentally crummy. While being bludgeoned by the sandstorm had certainly been no small ordeal, at least he had felt some manner of confidence in his reason for barreling headlong into an uncomfortable situation. Now, as he sullenly trudged along what he couldn’t rightly discern between road and not-road, he got to add guilt to the constant throb of his abused muscles and the increasingly sharp pain on his hind leg any time he put any weight on it. His heart told him that he had made the right choice to continue on at the behest of his cutie mark’s incessant hounding, but the rest of his body was dog tired, and worse was the knowledge that he had no guarantee that any of his suffering would be worth it. What he did have, however, was the promise that he had made as a child that he would never again ignore the call of his cutie mark, and his commitment to honoring that vow was what had led him to once again pick up the package and wander the countryside.

That wasn’t to say that there wasn’t vast reluctance on his part. Being bound by the same shackles as every other mortal, Merry completely aware that he was likely delaying his recovery by a day or two by exerting himself so much. What confounded him, however, was the fact that he didn’t seem to mind. The moment that he had turned away from the post office and began his trek, his anxiety seemed to melt away, and the violent searing of his cutie mark’s minty burn calmed, becoming an almost soothing sensation that eased the pain in his battered side. He had never been one to stay down for long, and he actually had caught himself humming a time or two, but the by the time that he caught sight of the farmhouse that had somehow sprung up in the middle of a desolate field of rocks, he was in agony. Wincing as he dragged himself up the porch steps, he leaned against a support beam to catch his breath.

“I hope my cutie mark has accounted for the trip back,” he thought between haggard breaths. He doubted that he would even be able to make it back, but then again, he wouldn’t have thought he could have survived a sandstorm, either. Lifting his head, he took a moment to look around at his surroundings. Clearly inspired by sand, the entire house was comprised of the colors brown and tan. The silo and windmill that powered the well were equally as drab, and Merry couldn’t help but feel out of place with his brightly colored pastel mane contrasted against everything nearby. It was as if he had wandered into some forsaken edge of Equestria where all of the fun had been magicked away, and he found himself adding nervousness to his already impressive repertoire of reasons to feel like calling it a day, and sacking out there on whoever’s porch he had wandered onto.

“This doesn’t reeeally seem like anyplace I’d want to go… Butt, are you sure this is the right place?” His butt said yes. With a weary sigh, he lifted his hoof and gave the door a few good knocks, taking a few steps back as he heard the telltale scrape of chair legs dragging across the floor, followed by the steady whump of approaching hooves. Merry swallowed hard as a rather unfriendly looking older stallion opened the door and fixed him with a glare, wishing for all the world that he could somehow be granted temporary invisibility and possibly a twenty percent speed boost to hobble quickly away.

“What do you want?” the stallion asked, sounding perturbed.

“W-Well, you see, um…” Merry stammered, somewhat taken off guard. “What am I supposed to tell him? I’m not sure myself why I’m even here, and he doesn’t really look like he’d be interested in having my mark…” The stallion standing in the doorway began to scowl. His thick, scruffy gray sideburns did quite a lot to add to his already intimidating posture, and Merry found himself struggling to manage a coherent sentence.

“We’re having supper and this isn’t really a good time. State your business, and be on your way.” Merry knew that he needed to respond, and quickly at that. Glancing down at the package in his hooves, he glanced at the name and took a breath to steady himself.

“This, um… this package belongs to somepony named ‘Pinkie?’” he explained, faltering as the stallion in the doorway managed to somehow refine his scowl to be even more piercing. “Is… does s-she live here?”

“...Give it to me,” Igneous growled, holding his hoof out.

“B-But…” he murmured, glancing down at the parcel. “I’ve been through so much to keep this safe, it just doesn’t seem right to hoof it over. He doesn’t look like he would listen to anything I had to say, though…” Merry read the name on the label once more, summoning his courage as he remembered what the receptionist at the hospital had said that afternoon. “‘A package isn’t safe until it’s delivered,’ huh? Looks like it gets to stay with me for just a liiittle bit longer.”

“Well?”

“I’m sorry, sir, but I can’t give this package to anyone but Pinkie,” Merry explained, holding the delivery to his chest. “I’ve… been through a lot to make sure this package finds it’s way into that pony’s hooves, and I can’t give up now. I’ll come back later, okay? I’m sorry to have interrupted your meal. Have a… have a nice night…” He had thought that following his cutie mark all the way into the rocky fields would be the hardest thing he had done that night, but that couldn’t compare to being so close and having to walk away. Merry couldn’t even say why he had said that he would leave, especially when he knew that where he needed to be was just beyond that door. His head sank to match his drooping ears as he went to take his first step, only to stumble and nearly fall as he realized that his muscles had been idle too long, and had started to tighten. Disappointed and aching, he couldn’t see the turnaround of the stallion’s expression behind him as he watched Merry struggle.

“Wait, you’re…” Confused as to why he had heard continued conversation rather than the slamming of the door, Merry turned as the stallion in the doorway stepped out with a mixture of surprise and bewilderment on his face. “Aren’t you the colt that got caught in the sandstorm?”

“Yeeep, that’s me,” he said with a weak chuckle.

“By Celestia, son, why the hay aren’t you resting?” Igneous asked, worriedly moving in and looking over Merry’s battered form. “And what in Equestria were you thinking, getting caught in a sandstorm like that?” Merry couldn’t tell if the pony beside him sounded more worried or upset, but either way he took heart that he wasn’t being driven away. “The ponies from Dodge were searchin’ all the way out here for you, and my girls were, too! Don’t you know that you made everypony worry?”

“I do,” Merry said solemnly, bowing his head. “I know that it was a silly thing to do, but I… I knew I had to protect this package. If I hadn’t have found it before the storm hit, then it would have been lost forever.”

“So, that means…” Igneous was quickly beginning to view the colt in a different light. The colt flinched a little as he moved but met his gaze as he set his hoof on the colt’s shoulders and looked into his eyes. “Do you mean to tell me that you jumped headlong into a sandstorm, got back up, wandered all the way to my house just to pass out, and then came back again after just getting out of the hospital, all because… because you were protecting something that belongs to my daughter?”

“...Yes, sir,” he answered unsteadily. “I guess I did.” The stallion straightened up but continued to stare at Merry with disquieting intensity. Though he couldn’t tell, the fact was that Igneous was having marveling at the lengths he had gone to do something kind for his daughter, and a softness that Merry hadn’t imagined the older stallion to be capable found its way into his gruff voice.

“What’s your name, son?”

“Merry Mint, sir,” he answered respectfully.

“Alright, then, Merry, listen closely,” Igneous began, a smile beginning to overtake his gruff exterior. “My daughters are precious to me, and I’m not too keen on letting some stallion I hardly know into my home. However, you were willing to brave a sandstorm, to walk through the wind and the sand, and get back up just to see my Pinkamena. That shows a character that I don’t often see in ponies anymore, and the loyalty that the townsfolk showed towards you proves that it ain’t just for show..” He stepped aside and motioned with a hoof towards the house. “Come on in, son. You’re more than welcome here.”

“Really?” he asked hopefully as his tail began to wag.

“You can even join us for supper if you’d like. Just…” He fell quiet for a moment and looked towards the stairs. “Be sensitive. Pinkamena hasn’t been feeling well lately, and she’s… really having a hard time right now.”

“I’ll be careful, Mr…”

“Igneous,” he said with a nod, watching Merry take a few hobbling steps forward. “Do you need some help?”

“I appreciate the offer, sir, I do, but this is something that I’d like to do myself,” he explained with a sheepish grin. “I’ve come this far, and it just feels right to make it through this last stretch on my own.”

“I can respect that,” Igneous said with a nod. “Come along, then. I’ll take you to see her.” Stifling a groan as he walked behind Igneous, Merry took the package by the twine and followed him inside. Glancing across the living room and into the dining room, he saw that dinner had been temporarily set aside to make time to stare at him. Two mares that looked around his age sat whispering in hushed tones while an older mare chided them quietly. Quietly bemoaning his poor luck as he neared the based of the stairs, he took a deep breath and took them slowly, one set at a time. Not being able to support any weight on his dominant hind leg made the ascent slow and excruciating, but he could see the end in sight as he neared the top: a door of muted pink. It was the only moderately colorful thing that Merry had seen since leaving Dodge, and he could sense that he had finally made it to where he needed to be.

“Pinkie’s in there?” Merry asked, his tail once again beginning to swish.

“That’s right,” Igneous confirmed. “Knock first, be respectful, and keep your hooves where I can see them.”

“Thaaat shouldn’t be a problem, sir,” he chuckled, flushing a little with embarrassment. “I wouldn’t rough house with somepony I’ve just met.”

“Good colt. Go on now,” Igneous said, motioning towards the door, “you’ve come a long way.” With a contrite nod, Merry took a step forward and gave the door a few gentle taps. Hearing no response, he prepared himself to wait patiently before trying again, but then his ears caught hint of something faint, coming from within. His countenance fell as he pressed an ear to the door and listened to the quiet, muffled sound of somepony crying on the other side.

“So, this is why you brought me here…” he thought as he pulled away. Merry had wondered if he would be able to say whether or not he would be able to say that the ordeal he had endured would be worth it in the end, but he had been asking a pointless question; there was nothing more worthwhile than helping somepony who needed a reason to smile again. Laying aside his fatigue and discomfort, Merry perked his ears and pumped a little extra life into his tail as he depressed the door handle and stepped inside, determined not to leave until he had coaxed a little laughter from the pony within.

Surprise

“Hmmm… oh, oh! How about Chloe?”

“Grrr…”

“Not that one either, huh?” A young colt sat in a dimly lit room, just a few hoof lengths away from a large cage. Inside, an equally young spitz puppy sat huddled in the corner furthest from the one that couldn’t seem to take a hint from her growls. She hadn’t expected that he might actually come back, and she didn’t quite know what to think of him. His multi-colored mane was perplexingly bright, his tone more cheerful than any she had heard from a pony, but that didn’t change the fact that he was a pony, and she hated ponies. This created somewhat of a problem, because Merry had really come to like doggies, and that was what she happened to be.

“Grrr…” she growled again, flinching as the colt reached into his lunch pail and rustled around. She made a point of making it very clear she didn’t approve of him moving. Well, actually, she didn’t approve of him being nearby at all, but since she was the one in the cage and he was the one free to come and go as he pleased, she had to settle for making sure he never tried to reach inside the cage. She may not have been eating well, but her fangs were ready if anypony ever tried to touch her again.

“Oh, don’t worry, I’m just getting some candy,” he explained with a chuckle. “Would you like one?”

“Grrr!” A deep, guttural growl built in her chest as a small, pale green candy sailed through the air, bounced around a little on the cage, and finally fell to a stop a short distance from where she lay. Given that it had come from a pony, she could only assume it to be poison and didn’t even bother to give it a sniff as the colt went back to whatever game he had been torturing her with that afternoon. It seemed to involved spouting off names in the hope that she would somehow become endeared to him, but the only name she would ever answer to was the one that she had been given by her mother. She missed her mother terribly, but that didn’t seem to matter to the stupid ponies that hounded her at every turn. The only good thing that they had done as of late was giving her a cage and largely leaving her alone. This colt, however, was either too dense or too stubborn to understand that death threats a generally not a sign of friendship.

“How about Heather?”

“Grr.”

“Milly?”

“Grr.”

“Mildred?”

“Grrrrrrrr…”

“Okay, definitely not Mildred,” Merry confirmed. “I didn’t really think that was a good one anyways.”

Wondering how long it would be until she could have her peace and quiet back, the pup tuned out the troublesome pest of a pony and just casually growled after everything that was said. She had long grown tired of this exercise in futility, and found her attention drawn to the strange, pillow-shaped object that he had tossed into her cage. Waiting until a moment when he wasn’t looking so as to give him as little satisfaction as possible, she gave a tentative sniff of the “candy,” hereafter referred to as “poison,” and stared at it. It smelled sweet.

“Maxine?”

“Grr,” she countered, continuing to ponder the heavily scented poison. She had barely eaten anything at all that day. Eating would make the ponies happy, and that was something she was loathe to encourage, but despite her best attempts to starve, she always caved and at least ate something by the end of the day. Tiring of the colt’s rambling, she double-checked to make sure he wasn’t watching as she discretely lapped up the poison, knowing that if it really was toxic then at least she would have her quiet back soon. Instead, she found herself pleasantly surprised by the delicate flavor tinged with something that made her whole mouth feel cool. She didn’t want to like it, but it sure tasted better than whatever slop the ponies seemed to think she enjoyed eating.

“How about… Stella?”

“Grr?” she responded quizzically. It was hard to be properly aggressive when one’s mouth was experiencing a personal winter. However, if it was secretly some kind of sedative, then it was woefully lacking in potency, and she was still ready to take off any hooves that wandered too close. Pain was all that ever came of hooves, and hooves only came from ponies and any related ilk, which was justification enough for her to treat any and all as the threat they probably were.

The afternoon continued to drag on, with the colt who called himself Merry rambling on in a manner that could only be described as daft. No matter how many times she bared her fangs, he never seemed to understand that the only thing between him and a dozen stitches was the flimsy chicken wire type cage. His incessant cheerfulness was nothing short of obnoxious, and the exasperated doggie was beginning to wonder whether or not this wasn’t some cruel plot to strip away her sanity when she heard a name that hadn’t been spoken since she was taken from her mother at barely a month of age. She tried to growl, but it caught in her throat. By the time she had shaken the shock, the colt had already wandered on to other names, and before she could stop herself, she barked.

“Huh?” Merry murmured, his eyes lighting with excitement. “Is your name Zoey? Is that the one you wanted?”

“Grr.”

“Oh, but then… did I pass it?”

“Bark!”

“Okay, then, what were the last few names I… Oh, right! Ginger?”

“Grr.”

“Priscilla?”

“Grr!” Frustrated with herself for humoring the colt and even further upset with his inability to remember what he had said mere moments prior, she added some emphasis to her displeasure with a snarl. It was stupid, but even if it came from the mouth of the callous creatures that she despised the most, she wanted to hear the only name that had ever been spoken to her in a caring way. She could have been wrong, could have misheard, and the desperation welling in her heart was nauseating, but she wanted to hear it. Her ears had somehow pried themselves upright, just waiting for the word. Their eyes met, and for the first time she actually thought, for just a fleeting second, that he actually cared. It was in that moment that she heard herself called by the name that she had longed to hear since the ponies had come and taken her away from her mother, and in that moment she lost her bark.

“...Maria?”

“...Bark.” She had barely managed to make the sound. Her throat was tight, and she found herself having difficulty dredging up her viciousness as he scooted a little closer to the cage.

“Maria is a beautiful name,” Merry chortled, beaming back at the puppy. “From now on, I’ll call you Maria.” He turned at the sound of tapping on the door, and responded with a pout. “It’s time for me to go now. I’ll come back and see you again soon, okay? Bye, Maria!”

Maria had meant to send him away with a snarl, but she couldn’t manage to make a sound as the colt gathered up his pail, slipped a beanie over his head, and waved as he let himself out the door. She wouldn’t have thought that simply hearing her name would have moved her the way it had, but it did, and it left her with more questions than answers. Her eyes wandered over to the bright blue scarf that still lay atop the cage with its tassles hanging through. Ignoring her reluctance, she slowly stood and made her way over to it. It smelled like that colt.

Confused as to why her mind was marking that as a pro rather than a con, she gave it a rough tug and dragged the scarf back to her corner. Whatever fabric had been used was incredibly soft. Sighing at herself for accepting two gifts now from the ponies, she began to chew on one end, with the other held within her paws. Promising to never let the colt see her with the scarf, she made a note to stow in the furthest corner of the cage from her self. What she didn’t know was that the colt was watching through a window on the other side of the door, held aloft by a mother of his own. He had seen, and he would never forget.

Having come to a house in the middle of nowhere, where the world had been painted in grays and browns, it was with great care that Merry cracked open the pink door, entering with quiet steps. There wasn’t much in the room by way of decoration other than a few framed pictures hanging on the wall, and the furnishings were minimalistic, as with the rest of the house. An unlit lamp sat upon the nightstand near the bed in the leftern most corner of the room, with a dresser against the wall opposite the shuttered window. The overall light level in the room was dismal at best, and even the multi-colored quilt acting as a comforter did little to brighten the room. What needed brightening most, however, wasn’t the decor, but the brightly colored pony that lay trembling on the bed, curled into as tight a ball as she could. It was a dichotomy that he had seen before, and he found a familiar ache growing in his chest as he neared.

His eyes were drawn first to the mare’s beautifully rosen coat, its hue reminiscent of cotton candy. Her mane was longer than most and of an even more vivid hue of pink, and he followed the straightened locks as they tumbled around her shoulders and down her back. Merry discreetly redirected his attention away from the trio of balloons adorning her flanks, though he couldn’t keep himself from admiring them for just a moment: they just looked so fun. Feeling a flush rise to his cheeks, he took a deep breath through his nose to clear his thoughts only to find them more muddled. The package that he had held in his mouth slipped from his jaw with a resounding thud as he caught a deep draft of the mare’s scent and realized that the mystery smell he had spent days scouring Dodge to try and find a source came not from a what, but a who. It took every ounce of self-control he had not to pounce and let the intoxicating fragrance flood his senses, and just when he thought that he was beginning to get a handle on himself, the mare stirred, lifting her tear-stained muzzle from a soaked pillow and transfixing him with her stunning blue eyes.

They stared at one another in silence, each with their own thoughts. Pinkie couldn’t even begin to understand the presence of a stallion she’d never met just wandering into her room, though even that paled in comparison to the fact that her father, who stood just outside the door, was giving him leave to do so. Part of the reason that Pinkie kept company with females were that they were the only ones her father didn’t seem intent on running off, and the fact that the pony with a mane of pastel rainbow was there caused no small amount of confusion on her part. His tail seemed extraordinarily poofy, like Winona when she got startled, and she honestly couldn’t say how she felt about the way he was looking at her. She didn’t suspect any mal intent, but that was about all she could say as she sniffed back further tears, wondering what was going on.

“Those eyes…” Merry felt a shiver race through his being, all the way through the ends of his nose as he peered intently at the mare. “She looks just like Maria did when I found her.” Though there was no growl coming from the pony before him, he could see that she wasn’t just upset. There was no question about the evident sadness held in her gaze, but the longer that he looked, the more he grew certain that there was more to it than that: she was terrified. Of what, he couldn’t say, and he honestly didn’t need to know right then. All that mattered to him in that moment was doing anything he could to bring her what comfort he could.

“G-Go away…” He stood rooted in place as the mare’s barely audible voice whispered in the quiet. “Leave me alone.”

“I’m sorry, but I can’t do that just yet,” he said softly with a hesitant smile. He had dealt with resistance before, and he knew that wasn’t really what the mare wanted, though it still hurt to hear.

“Why n-not?” she asked with a shiver. “I’m not any fun right now…”

“That’s alright, you don’t have to be,” Merry assured her, taking a seat beside the bed. “I’ll be the fun one for now, okay?”

Pinkie could hardly believe what she had heard. Being a party pony, there was a constant pressure for her to be at peak excitability so that she could keep everypony smiling. Hearing somepony, even a total stranger, tell her that they didn’t mind her being as excitable as a damp rag brought her a bizarre sense of comfort. It was as if she were being told to take a vacation she hadn’t known she needed, and she found herself temporarily distracted from her woes.

“I, um… okay, I guess,” she mumbled with a sniffle. “What did you have in mind?” She had scarce finished the statement before the stallion lifted a hoof, gently booped her on the nose, and then ducked down out of sight. Perplexed, Pinkie blinked a few times before looking down over the edge of the bed to find that the stranger had wiggled his way almost entirely under the bed, with just a short length of his tail poking out. His tail couldn’t seem to sit still, and were she not busy being a rag, she would have found the sight amusing. As lethargic as she was, her attempts to trap his tail under hoof failed several times, but when she finally did, his head popped back out from under her bed with a grin stretching ear to ear.

“Ding ding ding! We have a winner!” he cheered, wiggling out a little further and holding his hooves to his chest as he lay on his back. “That means you get a prize!”

“A prize?” she repeated, growing curious. “Prizes are nice. What kind of prize?”

“A surprise prize!” Merry explained triumphantly. “Juuust let me go grab it from the vault.” He disappeared underneath the bed, making more noise than could possibly be necessary to retrieve whatever it was that he had somehow stashed under her bed without her knowing. Just enough of his muzzle popped out for her to see his eyes and the corners of his grin. “Do you like surprises?”

“Of course I like surprises,” Pinkie countered, rolling her eyes.

“Oh? You do?” he snickered, he eyes narrowing playfully. “What about waiting?”

“Waiting is boooring!” Pinkie testified, her voice raising to a normal level.

“Really? So does that mean you want your surprise now?”

“Yes.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to wait?”

“Double yes.”

“Are you reeeally sure you-”

“Just give me my prize, you meanie,” Pinkie interjected, paying him back for earlier and booping his nose. She watched with bewilderment as his eyes grew wide. He stared at her for a brief moment before slowly receding back under the bed, leaving just his ears poking out. Despite his darker coat, his ears were taking on an obvious scarlet hue. “Do your ears always change colors before you give somepony a surprise?”

“N-Nope, juuust you,” Merry murmured from his hiding spot. He could feel a decidedly non-minty burn overtaking most of his muzzle as he answered, and he fought to ignore the heat flaring in his cheeks as he grabbed the parcel by the bindings and eased himself out from under the bed. It would have been ideal had he been able to wait for the tingle in his cheeks to calm, if only so that the stern earth pony that still stood in the doorway wouldn’t get the wrong idea, but Merry couldn’t help but grin as he set the parcel down in front of the mare.

“Th-This is…” She couldn’t believe what she was seeing. Pinkie had honestly thought that the parcel was lost to her, having been swept away in the storm after she had lost her temper and hurled it away. It wasn’t until she looked up at Merry and noticed the bandage around one of his hind legs that she began to suspect what had happened. “I’m… I’m so sorry…”

“Sorry? That’s not what’s supposed to happen when you get a prize,” Merry explained, his ears drooping a little as he watched Pinkie shrink away. “Why are you sorry?”

“Because I’m the reason you got hurt,” she choked, a lump rising once more to her throat. “You’re the pony that got caught out in the sandstorm, aren’t you?”

“Well, yeah,” he admitted, “but you didn’t make the sandstorm, right?”

“You don’t understand,” she countered, hiding her face behind her hooves. “I was the one who threw the package into the storm. If I hadn’t tossed it away, then you never would have been hurt, but now you are, and it’s… it’s all my fault.” For a time, all Pinkie could hear was her own muffled crying as she awaited the stallion’s ire, but the sensation of something bumping against her hooves caused her to look up.

“Please, don’t cry about that,” Merry said gently, grinning ruefully as he nudged the parcel closer. “I don’t blame you for what happened. Weathering the storm was my choice to make, and I would do it again if it meant I’d have another chance to make you smile.” He desperately wanted to give the mare a hug, but he had given his word that he wouldn’t do anything forward. “Go on,” he murmured with an encouraging nod, “open it. I’m sure that it will make you smile.”

There wasn’t any excuse for Pinkie to refuse the stallion’s request, though she wished she could share in his optimism. When last they spoke, Pinkie had given Rarity a rather nasty dressing down that she was sure both of them would carry for a long while to come. Coupled with the utterly lackluster wrapping, Pinkie couldn’t imagine that anything bright could be inside. Her hooves trembled as they fumbled with the twine holding the heavy-duty parchment paper wrapping together, and it took quite an effort to undo the knot that had formed from all the yanking about. After a bit of struggling, the bindings fell away.

The crinkle of the paper shifting under her hooves sounded extraordinarily loud to her ears, but what she found inside was more than she could ever have hoped, and her heart leapt within her chest as she peeled the paper back. In her hooves lay one of her scrapbooking albums that she used to chronicle the moments of laughter and wonder that she had shared with her friends. They were among her most prized possessions, and she had poured countless hours into getting every page just right. Cracking open the cover, she ran a hoof over the pictures that lay within, reminding her of when she had first met each of her friends. A powerful longing began to grow in her chest as she quietly absorbed the images captured upon each page, starting from when they had worked together to meet Nightmare Night, on through the first time that Discord had been freed, and even pictures of Shining Armor’s wedding in Canterlot, all interspersed with parties, trials, and special moments that she had shared with her friends. Her hoof trembled as she turned to what she knew was the last page, and her eyes grew wide as she found the album had yet more to offer.

All of the photos that followed after weren’t ones that she had gathered herself, but ones that had been put there by each of her friends. Starting with the day that a despairing stallion had wandered into Ponyville and moving forward, Pinkie was shown time after time in picture form that she had never been excluded the way that she had felt, and the proof was in her hooves. From the welcome party she had thrown for Cerulean, who went on to marry Twilight, to the grand opening of the tavern that she had spent whooping it up with her friends, all the moments that she had felt she was just the outsider looking in were cast in a different light. Those pictures were there to show that she was more than just another source of mirth, and the evidence set before her was as condemning as it was touching. She had assumed ill of her friends once, only to find that they had been trying to keep her birthday party a surprise. Now, she had done the same thing to them again, only much, much worse, and even still they were doing what they could to make sure she knew that she meant the world to them.

“I couldn’t have been more wrong about them,” Pinkie thought, laughing weakly as she relived the moments of each photograph. She knew she was nearing the end when she found a few pictures of her modeling Rarity’s latest creations, but it wasn’t dread that would overtake her on the final page, but hope. There, she found five blank photos, three on one page and two on the other, along with a simple note that read: “Let’s make the rest together.”

“Together…” Tears rolled down her muzzle as she clutched the book to her chest, a genuine smile lighting her features. One by one, her locks of long, flattened hair began to curl as the memories that had been buried underneath her insecurities and doubt came flooding back, filling her heart with gladness. It wasn’t long before her hair had regained its former life, and she lifted her eyes to look upon the one that had brought her the treasure held in her embrace, and given his everything to make it happen. Before either of them knew quite what was happening, Pinkie had laid aside the scrapbook and launched herself at Merry, sending them both tumbling to the floor. When the world stopped spinning, Merry found himself wrapped tightly in the mare’s embrace as she lay upon his chest, her cheek nestled against his neck.

“Thank you,” she whispered, tightening her hold. “Thank you so much for the surprise.”

“You’re so welcome,” he said quietly, reaching around and returning the mare’s embrace. He knew what he had said, knew that her father was probably still watching, and even more probably didn’t approve of his hoof placement, but all that mattered to him was the joy that had returned to the mare atop his chest. He felt an immense warmth wash over his being as he heard the sweetest giggle escape from Pinkie’s lips, and an even more intense heat as her mane tickled his nose, filling his senses with the most wonderful scent he had ever smelled. It had nothing to do with the shampoo she had used, nor was it any kind of added fragrance. No, there was just something about the mare’s natural aroma that he found intoxicating, and he found himself lacking coherency as another trill of laughter graced his ears.

“Oopsie! Sorry, sorry, I shouldn’t have tackled you like that,” she tittered, pulling away with a sheepish grin. She offered a hoof to help him up, feeling a little more than slightly embarrassed, and she felt a little heat rising to her cheeks as their hooves met. It was confusing, but in a fun way. “Come to think of it,” she continued after he was upright, “I don’t even think we even introduced ourselves. I’m Pinkie Pie! What’s your name?”

For Merry, saying his name had never been as difficult as it was at that moment. His tongue seemed to have had a few too many, the heat swirling in his cheeks was making him a little hazy, and his tail couldn’t seem to stop wagging. The mare’s presence was overwhelming, and it was only with great difficulty that he managed to squeak out a response, and even that was horrendously garbled.

“Merry muh...”

“M-Marry you?” Pinkie squeaked, blushing hard. “I, um… th-that’s a little quick, don’t you think?”

“N-No!” Merry sputtered. She had misheard in the worst of ways, and he was pretty sure that his ears were only a few degrees below their flash point.

“Oh, I, um… I don’t know if I-”

“Mint! Merry Mint, my name- Mint, it’s… Mint,” he stammered out, turning his head to the side so she couldn’t look him in the eye.

“Merry? Oh, gosh, that’s your name! I totally thought you said… yanno, that other… thingy,” she said, fumbling around with her words. It wasn’t like her to get all nervicited like she was. “That sure was silly of me to think you said, um… right, daddy?”

“...Quite.” At the sound of Igneous’ gruff voice, Merry’s ear’s went flaccid while his tail took cover between his legs. He was pretty sure that the only thing between him and a good trouncing was the fact that Pinkie was smiling again, though that wasn’t quite the case. While he wanted to keep the colt from getting ahead of himself, Igneous had fast come to hold Merry in high regard, and while the idea of anypony courting his Pinkamena raised his hackles, the red-faced stallion had earned himself a chance, if he so desired. He didn’t need to know that, though. Not yet.

“So, Merry,” Pinkie began, unable to stifle a giggle. It felt so nice to laugh again, and his name was fun to say. “Did you maybe wanna stay for dinner?” His tail started to wag, stretching her smile even wider as he bashfully peeked out from behind the pastel veil of his mane.

“Are you sure that’s okay?” he asked timidly. “I don’t want to impose…”

“It ain’t imposing if it’s bein’ offered,” Igneous said with a chuckle, striding into the room and accepting a loving hug from his daughter. “You’ve given my daughter a smile, and that’s plenty worthy of a meal.” Beneath the rugged exterior, a warming grin lit Igneous’ muzzle as he beckoned towards the door. “Come along, son, let’s get you fed.”

Not having eaten since getting the morning prior to the sandstorm, the notion of getting to share a warm meal with Pinkie Pie and her family made Merry wriggle with excitement. With his tail swishing about and a foalish grin lighting his features, the stallion took a step forward as his hosts turned to head downstairs, completely forgetting about the condition of his fractured hind leg as he did so. Yelping at the pain that lanced through his leg, he stumbled a couple of paces and fell forward, slamming to the ground with a reverberating crash.

“Oh, gosh! That looked painful! Are you okay?” Pinkie asked worriedly, darting over to where Merry lay waiting for the soreness to subside.

“Y-Yeah, I think I’m- oooh…” He clutched a hoof to his head as the overwhelming pain coming from his injured hoof caused an onset of dizziness and potential nausea. Were he on his own, he would have simply taken a few moments to rest, or possibly pass out, but he wasn’t. He cracked open an eye to find the mare watching him intently with eyes full of concern. Determined not to be any kind of a burden to somepony who had only just recently recovered, he made as if to struggle to his hooves. His body, however, was nearing its limit, and he would have fallen a second time had Pinkie not been standing by.

“C’mon, silly, let me help,” Pinkie pressed in soft tone, helping the stallion to stand. He was visibly trembling, and as much as she was itching to exercise her returning vigor and bounce around a bit, she would eagerly bottle that energy if it meant being able to repay a portion of Merry’s kindness. Moving up alongside him, she maneuvered one of his hooves around her shoulder and pulled him close. He was pleasantly warm, something that was more than welcome as much trouble as she had been having as of late with the shivers, and she found an unfamiliar heat bubbling up from within as she looked over at his hesitant expression.

“Just lean on me, okay?” she said tenderly, “We can take it nice and slow.” There were a few moments where they both just stared at one another. Then, without a word, she felt the stallion shift all his weight onto her. She couldn’t help but grin as she felt him drape his chin over her shoulders, and together they began their painfully long journey down towards the dining room. The going was slow, but that didn’t really bother either of them. Pinkie was grateful beyond words to a pony that had been broken on her behalf, without ever having even met her, and Merry… Merry was just grateful to have done for another what he hadn’t been able to do for Maria.

Homebound

Supper at the Pie household wasn’t often anything of note. Rock farming brought in enough to support a family and keep everypony warm and cared for, though what they lacked in extravagance, they made up for with thankfulness and a mastery over the mundane. Merry would likely have gratefully eaten even the blandest of gruel had it been served, and he was more than thankful just to have a chance to sit down as he sank into the chair that had been set out for him opposite of Pinkie. He was pleasantly surprised shortly after to find that even amidst the desolate, rocky wastes, there was plenty to please his palate. Cloudy Quartz had worked cost effective, wholesome meals down to a science, and it required every ounce of his self control not to lick his plate clean before asking for seconds. It wasn’t until the second that his enthusiasm got the better of him, and he didn’t realize what he was doing until his tongue reached the rim of the plate and he looked up to find Pinkie snickering fit to burst.

“Eheh, sorry, I was just, um… yeeeah…” Somehow, his sheepish chuckles couldn’t seem to drown out the overwhelming sound of his ears burning with an embarrassment he wasn’t used to experiencing. It was rare that he made any effort to alter his habits for any reason or anypony, but there was something about the mare grinning back at him that was making him experience a perplexing level of self-consciousness. He watched with curiosity as the mare made motion towards her snout, pondered what she could possibly be trying to sign, and then felt a faint heat flush through his cheeks as he discreetly wiped a hoof across his snout and came away with some leftovers for his troubles.

“Hehe! Merry sure seems to enjoy your cooking, mother!” Pinkie chortled happily, herself having finished eating just behind the stallion and ahead of her family. He nodded, feeling awkward at having any more attention directed towards him. Cloudy had been generally cordial with him and Igneous was just being Igneous, as would be expected. Marble, however, hadn’t made a sound since he had hobbled over to the table with Pinkie’s help, and Limestone kept glancing at him like he didn’t belong.

“I’m glad that you enjoyed it,” Cloudy said politely, regarding Merry with vague amusement. “You must have been hungry.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he replied with a contrite nod. “It was reeeally good! Thank you for the meal.” His table manners may not have been as on par as he would have liked, but his father had trained him to always pay mares their proper respect, and double if they were his elders.

“You’re quite welcome,” she returned, wiping her mouth with a napkin and standing as her other daughters finished up. “Marble, Limestone, would you help me with the dishes?” Marble nodded quietly and began clearing her place, while Limestone adopted a rather sour expression and stayed put.

“Is Pinkie not going to help?” Limestone asked, rather pointedly.

“Pinkie has a guest to attend to,” came Cloudy’s dismissive reply.

“Listen to your mother,” Igneous followed up, flicking his head towards the kitchen. “Go on, now.” The already awkward tension forming was only worsened by the grating sound of chair legs screeching across the floor as Limestone wordlessly rose and stalked towards the kitchen in a huff, leaving Igneous to massage the space between his eyes where stress seemed to gather.

“I just can’t win,” he muttered with a sigh before leveling his gaze at his quest, who appeared to be doing a rather thorough inspection of the tablecloth. “Don’t you worry about her none, Merry, Limestone’s just in one of her moods. Luna only knows why...” The stallion glanced up briefly before dropping eye contact and nodding. “Do you think you can make it home?”

“I, u-um…” Merry stammered, looking at the floor with dread. He knew the answer, but he didn’t want to give it. Igneous had already allowed him, a complete stranger, to come into his home, speak to his daughter, and had given him a meal; it didn’t seem right to ask for anything more. All he had to do was apply even the slightest pressure to any of his hooves to know that there was only one honest answer, and lying was never an option in Merry’s mind. “I… I don’t think so… sir.”

“Good colt.” Baffled by the remark, Merry turned towards Igneous as he stood and blinked. “I’ve worked these fields most of my life, Merry,” Igneous began to explain, trotting over. “I’ve strained every muscle in my body thrice over, and being hard-headed about injuries will only make things worse. Rest here a bit. I’ll get the cart ready and give you a ride home.” The stallion looked positively thunderstruck, and it was almost enough to make Igneous laugh as he left the room.

“You must have really impressed my father.” The welcoming knell of Pinkie’s encouraging tones drew Merry’s attention, and he turned to find her standing beside him looking pleased as punch. “He doesn’t normally take to strangers well. I guess he’s not exactly what you’d call a social pony, but he always means well.”

“Yeeeah, he didn’t seem too thrilled when I first showed up,” Merry admitted with a weak chuckle. “He seems nice enough, though, and I’m reeeally grateful that he’s giving me a ride home.”

“...Aren’t you special.” Confounded by the flagrant and entirely unprovoked hostility, both Pinkie and Merry found themselves speechless as Limestone swept past the two of them and disappeared up the steps. Marble followed in her sister’s wake, though with considerably less rancor, paying them both the briefest of glances before disappearing from sight. Perhaps the only pony seemingly unfazed was Cloudy Quartz.

“Your sister seems to be upset,” she said calmly, breaking the silence. “Pinkie, you may want to give Limestone some space for tonight.”

“Okie dokie,” Pinkie agreed quietly. She couldn’t even begin to fathom how washing an extra plate or two would be grounds for being so rude, and to her newest friend, even. “Well, my father probably has the cart ready,” she continued, shaking off the shock as she turned towards Merry. “Let’s get you home.”

Somehow, his muscles had managed to grow even more stiff and sore in the time between his sitting down to eat and his standing up again. Had Pinkie not been standing by, Merry would have simply crumpled to the ground upon sliding from his chair. He did his best to mask just how much agony was coming with each step, though to little effect. His breathing had grown haggard just from the walk to the porch, and the dizziness had returned with a vengeance as he collapsed in the bed of the cart, panting for breath and pretty much ready to call it quits on the whole staying conscious thing. Merry caught some snippets of something about Igneous returning inside for something, though he didn’t pay it much heed, as it wasn’t any of his business. He cracked open an eye at the telltale whump of another pony hopping into the cart, and found himself peering back at Pinkie as she settled in on the other side.

“You’re… coming?” he asked, forcing himself to regulate his breaths.

“Well, yeah! I… is that okay?” she replied, sounding unsure for the first time since her mane had curled.

“Of course!” he assured her. “I just… I feel bad.”

“Like, icky gonna-throw-up bad?” she sought to clarify, looking concerned

“No, it’s just… I’m not normally this out of it,” Merry explained wearily. His hooves were already growing heavy, and he wasn’t even sure that he would stay awake through the ride home. “I’ll probably be really boring.” Despite his best efforts, there were some days where Merry woke feeling as though coaxing a smile from his own muzzle would be the most daunting task he would face, and he typically did what he could to keep from being the dampening drizzle on everyone else’s sunny day. While he was genuinely uncomfortable with being seen in such a weakened position for fear that he might cause another some kind of distress, there was something more to his self-consciousness right then. To his surprise, however, Pinkie’s response was not one of melancholy, but of giggles.

“Oooh, I get it!” she declared as she flopped down onto her side to match how Merry was laying. “You could have just said it was a worried-about-something-super-silly bad, you know.” Her grin grew a little rueful. “I get those all the time. Don’t you worry, though!” she went on, snuggling her back up against the wall behind her. “We can be boring together.”

“You’re sure you don’t mind?”

“Yeppers! After all, I wasn’t exactly the most fun pony when you found me,” she remembered, looking apologetic. “You stuck around even though I didn’t give you a reason, and I’d still be lost if you hadn’t found me. You’re worth being bored! But you know the best part?” She leaned a little bit closer, grinning widely as she whispered, “I don’t think I’ll be bored.”

“...What’re you two doing?” There was only one right answer, and fortunately for Merry’s continued well being, Pinkie gave the correct response.

“Being boring!” she snickered, popping her head up and beaming back at her scowling father. He seemed to consider her words for a moment before relenting with a sigh. He couldn’t be upset with Pinkie, not when he was so grateful to see her smiling again.

“...Good. Keep it that way,” Igneous muttered, affixing the reigns to his collar. “Y’all keep your hooves to yourselves, you hear?”

“‘Kay!” Pinkie agreed, laying back down and tucking her hooves to her chest.

“Yes, sir,” came Merry’s subdued reply, simultaneously embarrassed by the implications and not entirely sure they were unfounded. He had always been a very hooves-on pony, and Pinkie was doing a tremendous job being adorable as she muffled her laughter with her hooves. While he had been quite taken with Pinkie when he had first seen her, he couldn’t help but notice how wonderfully playful her mane had become. It really seemed to suit her much better, and coupled with her bubbly laugh and sparkling eyes, Merry found himself unconsciously tucking his own hooves to his chest as a precautionary measure: the urge to poke her mane was real.

“Steady, Merry, steady,” he thought to himself, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. “Don’t think about how fluffy her mane looks. Don’t think about how great her smile is, or how swell she smells, or even how she bounces around when she’s happy. Don’t think about it, ‘cause then you’ll wanna play, and she’ll wanna play, and playing isn’t boring, and I need to be boring.” Merry cracked open an eye and found himself confronted with a most wonderful, terribly mischievous grin.

“Whatcha thinkin’ about?”

“...Nooothing?” he answered hesitantly. She was making it really difficult to be boring. Pinkie narrowed her gaze.

“What kind of ‘nothing?’” she asked slyly. “Is it the empty, bottomless-void-of-infinite nothingness kind of nothing? Or is it the thinking-of-everything-about-anything-that’s-a-thing type of nothing?”

“It’s definitely one of the more something-filled nothings, that’s for sure,” Merry admitted, chuckling. There was something disarming about being read like a book, and if he couldn’t reach out with his hooves, then his words would have to do. “Your mane just looks really nice when it’s curly is all. It fits you well, and it’s, you know… it’s… winsome.”

“Woohoo, I win, I win!” she cheered, the meaning completely going over her head. “Wait, what did I win?”

“... Being pretty?” The words slipped out before he could even think twice, and they left both ponies momentarily speechless. He had already started to suspect that Pinkie might become a fast friend, but the fact that he had raised her appearance so shortly after meeting one another worried him, not because of seeming potentially shallow, but because he meant it. With a familiar heat rising in his cheeks and a fuzzy feeling in his cheeks, Merry reluctantly acknowledge the fast growing desire to get to know Pinkie better could only mean one thing: he was smitten. Wonderfully, terribly smitten.

“Are you sure you’re talking to the right pony?” Pinkie asked after a while, sounding more baffled than anything else.

“Well… yeah!” Merry replied, himself a little confused. “I can’t be the only stallion that’s told you so, right?”

“Actually, you kind of are. Nowait!” she exclaimed, bringing a hoof to her chin and adopting a contemplative look. “... No, yeah, just you.” She dropped her gaze. “It makes me feel funny.” Pinkie glanced up to find Merry shifting himself a little closer, grinning broadly.

“Is it a makes-me-wanna-giggle kind of funny, or a my-stomach-is-full-of-fireflies type of funny?”

“Hehe! Now it’s both!” Pinkie chortled, matching his smile with her own as she snickered. “Alright, enough of that, time for serious stuffs! I wanna know more about you.”

For the next while, the two ponies bantered back and forth about anything and everything that came to mind, from favorite colors to preferred time of day. Pinkie listened intently as Merry rambled on about life with his sister and her obsessive adoration of tea, the family business they ran together, and his daily routine of helping with the tea stand in the morning, and then roaming town spreading cheer in the afternoon. It reminded her quite a bit of her own life back in Ponyville, which she eagerly shared when it was her turn to talk. Merry seemed content to listen as Pinkie grabbed hold of the conversation and bounded away, recounting a few of the misadventures she had shared with her friends. The time passed quickly, and before they knew it, they had arrived at Merry’s house in what felt like no time at all.

“Merry, is this the place?” Igneous called over his shoulder, slowing to a stop. Sharing a rueful smile with Pinkie as her story was cut short, Merry muscled himself upright and looked out with mounting dismay at the carnage that the sandstorm had left in its wake. The cobblestone pathway was barely visible under the sand, and just as his sister had said in her letter, there was hardly anything left in the garden. While he couldn’t be sure, he could only assume that the dilapidated pile of timber next to the shed was what remained of their tea cart. Guilt churned in his stomach at the thought of his sister being left to deal with the devastation of their livelihood on her own, but the hoof that came to a rest on his shoulder reminded him that he had left with a cause, and his journey hadn’t been unfruitful.

“It’s… pretty bad, isn’t it?” Pinkie asked rhetorically, taking in the scene. “Come on, let’s get you inside.” Nodding quietly, Merry grimaced as he eased himself out of the cart. Murmuring his thanks to Igneous, who was also taken aback by the state of the yard, Merry staggered over to the door with Pinkie’s help. “Are you going to be alright?” Pinkie could hardly stand to see Merry so dejected, but she knew that it was no time for balloons, and she felt helpless as he gave a feeble nod.

“I spring back pretty quickly,” Merry attested with a flimsy chuckle. “I just need some rest.”

“I meant both of you, silly,” Pinkie clarified in a soft tone. They both looked out at the garden that looked more like a dune.

“We’ll find a way to get by,” he said, though his lack of confidence was anything but reassuring. “We’ve hit bumps in the road before.”

“This is a whole lot more than just a bump,” she countered, looking back at Merry as his head sank towards the ground.

“...Yeah, it reeeally is.” His admission did little to assuage Pinkie’s worry. She knew it wasn’t technically any of her business, but Merry had been through a lot for her, and she desperately wanted to help.

“But what can I do?” she wondered, pawing at the porch. “I’m no good at farming or fixing anything, and streamers sure aren’t going to help… not even balloons! Ugh, feeling useless is just the worst.”

“Hey, Pinkie?”

“Y-Yeah?” she stammered, turning her attention back towards Merry.

“I’m preeetty tired, so I’m going to get myself to bed,” he began, coughing a little. “I really enjoyed getting to spend time with you today, and… I hope that we can see each other again soon.”

“Of course we can,” Pinkie confirmed with a quiet laugh. “Thank you again for the surprise. It was exactly what I needed.”

“Would it be weird if I told you that I felt like I should be thanking you?”

“Super duper weird,” Pinkie attested, grinning broadly. “You should say it.”

“Alright then,” Merry followed up with a chuckle. “Thank you, Pinkie. Your smile made it worth the journey.” Some might say that it would be difficult to make a pink pony blush, but the fireflies were doing a pretty good job of setting up shop in Pinkie’s cheeks as she bashfully glanced away.

“Y-you’re, yanno, welcome and… and everything,” came her warm reply. Though she was loathe to take her leave, she knew that her father was probably waiting to head back home, and so it was that she reluctantly took her leave. “See ya later, Merry!”

“See ya.” Merry barely had the strength to return her wave as she left. The strain of standing upright unsupported was making his head spin, and with a groan he dragged himself towards the bedroom, noting that the house was almost as bad inside as it was outside. Tea cups were scattered everywhere in various stages of fullness, and an empty box of tissues made it painfully evident that Chai wasn’t holding up well. The gifts that had been left in his hospital room lay scattered about, likely not having been touched since their arrival, and using the walls as support, he made his way into the room he shared with his sister as quickly as he was able.

She lay curled under the covers, apparently asleep, and he gently eased himself under the blankets beside her before reaching around and enfolding her within his hooves. Though she stirred at the movement, Chai said nothing for a long while, instead burying her muzzle into her brother’s chest as she began to quake, overwhelmed by the task that lay before them. She knew that, if anything, she should be holding him, after what he had been through. Despite being the older sibling, however, it was almost the other way around, and so it was that she quietly wept within her brother’s loving embrace.

“Shhh, it’s gonna be okay, sis. It’s gonna be okay,” he soothed, stroking her mane. It hurt to move, but his sister was dear to him. She had been there for him just as much as he had for her. Nodding shakily, Chai calmed within a few minutes, though it was longer before she spoke. The question she asked was one that carried no anger for what he had done, nor blame for leaving her alone, but one that carried an understanding of Merry that only Chai had come to know.

“Was it… was it worth it?” The hooves around her tightened, not for her, but for his own reassurance as a shiver raced through her brother’s body.

“It was,” Merry whispered. “It was worth the pain.”

“I’m glad,” Chai murmured, resting a hoof over her brother’s heart. It was beating faster than it should. “Would you like me to make you some tea?”

“No, just… stay here.” Chai couldn’t have left then, even had she wanted to. There was no mistaking the fright in her brother’s trembling voice. “Please…”

“Shhh, I’ll stay,” she assured him, nestling in under his chin. “I’ll stay, Minty. It’s okay.” The shaking didn’t stop until shortly before he fell asleep, and it left Chai to wonder if the sandstorm was merely a precursor to rougher things to come; there weren’t many things that could make her brother cower. Unwilling to ponder the ramifications and in desperate need of rest herself, Chai closed her eyes and let her worries drift away. If nothing else, her brother was home, and that was reason enough to be thankful.

Pinkie had expected that she might be in for an earful from her father the moment that she clambered back into the cart, but to her surprise he didn’t say much at all. He made a few comments about how unfortunate it was that they had been hit so hard by the storm, even called Merry a “good colt,” and while it did Pinkie well to know that her newest friend was on good terms with her father, that wasn’t at the forefront of her mind as they re-entered the city limits of Dodge. She had been fired up at the thought of making things right with her friends at first, but the more she thought about it, the more she realized that making reparations might be one of the hardest things she had ever done.

“Talk to me, ‘Mena.” Pinkie popped her head up at the sound of her father’s voice. “You’ve been awfully quiet back there. Are you still thinking about that colt?”

“Actually, I’ve mostly been thinking about what we talked about earlier,” she explained, bounding out of the cart and trotting up alongside her father. “I went about dealing with my friends all wrong, running off the way I did, and to make matters worse I even yelled at some of them! I’ve been really rotten, lately.” Her ears drooped as she acknowledged inwardly the truth of her words. It was one thing to think it, but another entirely to admit to it aloud. “I’m… I’m really scared to go back and face them after what I’ve done. What if they don’t accept my apology?”

“Well, then they aren’t the sort of friends you need,” Igneous said firmly, though he could tell that wasn’t what his daughter wanted to hear. “You’re really torn up about this, aren’t you?” She nodded, staring at the ground. “You don’t have to worry, then.”

“Don’t have to worry?” Pinkie questioned, shaking her head. “How can I not worry?”

“Listen, Pinkamena, you’ve known these friends of yours for quite some time now,” Igneous reminded her, veering away from the main road. “You’ve been through things that I hadn’t imagined would be possible, even with magic, and through it all you’ve stuck together and carried one another through the high times and the low. Nearly every letter you’ve ever sent us made mention of some memory you had made with them, and I don’t think that they’ll just up and turn on you for trying to set things right,” he concluded with an encouraging smile.

“You really think so?”

“I do,” he said confidently. “Besides, letting things like this sit only makes them worse in the long run. You and I both know that you won’t feel like your old self until you’ve made amends.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” Pinkie conceded, realizing that their destination had shifted as the train station came into view. “I guess it’s back to Ponyville for me, huh?”

“That’s right,” Igneous replied with a nod. Together, they made their way over to the ticket counter. Igneous always kept some bits in the cart compartment, and it was early enough in the evening that there was still a train bound for Ponyville. After purchasing a ticket, they made their way over to the coach.

“Pinkamena, listen,” her father began as she readied to board. “I know that Ponyville’s your home now, and that you’ve got some things that you need to take care of, but… come back and visit soon, would you?”

“I will, daddy,” she agreed, giving him a loving squeeze. “Regardless of how things go in Ponyville, I think I’ve decided to spend some time with my family after everything settles down. I can’t say when, but I think I’ll be back soon.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” Igneous said, pulling away with the faintest hint of a grin. “I’m sure that colt won’t mind.”

“Daaad, stop,” Pinkie whined, turning away with a nervous laugh. “I hardly know him. I mean, he seems really nice, and I wouldn’t mind learning more about him, and… you know…”

“I’m fairly sure I do,” he replied, chuckling fondly as he motioned towards the coach. “Work first, then play. There’ll be plenty of time for you to fraternize later.”

Stealing one last hug, Pinkie waved her father off and boarded the train. It was too early for her to try and get some rest, and her mind was too active anyways, and so it was that she found her mind once again drifting back to Merry and his lamentable situation.

“He’s done so much for me already, it just doesn’t feel right not to do my part to help out,” she thought with a sigh. “If I was good at farming, then I could at least help with the garden when I got back, but I don’t know the first thing about growing things. Huh, some earth pony I am.” Her chin fell with a thud on the window sill as she peered listlessly at the darkened landscape.

“Actually, I don’t know a whole lot about much of anything except parties and baking,” she realized with a frown. “Growing up” had always been something that she thought applied to everypony but her, and she was starting to see the effects of her procrastination. She hadn’t really thought about what she would do with her life in the long run, what kind of a job she might have, where she would live, or any of the other big questions that seemed to all be crawling out of the recesses of her mind. Living each day as it came had become her mode of operation, and she had been happy with all of that for a time, but she wasn’t so sure she’d be able to go back to being the way she was.

“I’m not even sure I want to,” she thought as the train slowly started down the tracks. “This whole mess could have been avoided if I hadn’t been so stubborn.” While the dread that she might be returning only to collide face first into a wall of rejection hadn’t gone away, the more she thought, the more she became certain that she had to go back. If nothing else, her friends deserved an explanation. Beyond that, she found herself hoping that maybe, just maybe, one or two of them might be willing to help her sort out the plethora of new worries that had risen to mind. She was apprehensive and nervous, but she was also ready to learn something new, and it was with that thought that the solutions to a lesser, though still prominent, question was answered, causing her to sit bolt upright.

“Of course!” she exclaimed, garnering strange looks from the other ponies on board. “That’s how I can help Merry out. Gosh, that’s so simple! Why didn’t I think of that before?” If she couldn’t help out, then maybe one of her friends could, and she knew just who to ask. With the list of ponies she’d have to talk to growing alongside the rising sense of purpose, Pinkie set her eyes towards the horizon, eagerly waiting to see the twinkling lights of Ponyville calling her home.

The Long Road Home

One would have had to search far and wide to find a more contented filly than Dawn that night, and further still to find a more doting father. Draped across her father’s lap, she had dozed off to the cathartic sensation of the brush passing through her ample mane, and with one final pass, Cerulean laid the brush aside with a thankful smile. Though still quite young, Dawn had begun to mature beyond her years, and she had been running herself ragged trying to cover for the lack of smiles since Pinkie’s departure, especially with regard to her parents. Twilight in particular had been struggling to accept what had happened, but between Dawn’s antics and the kind of reassurance that only the young can give, she had been the beacon that kept their spirits high.

Taking a few more minutes to enjoy the stillness at the end of another long day, Cerulean leaned his head back and closed his eyes. The whole last week had been nothing short of chaotic, and in a lot of ways, Pinkie had picked perhaps the worst possible time to leave. Between the birth of three new foals amongst their friends, the general lack of civility around town, and the tragedy that none of them expected, having somepony around to spread good cheer would have been greatly appreciated. And yet, with the exception of one, most of their friends were doing alright, despite the sting of separation they felt every night. Even without being a bearer of the Elements, Cerulean could see that the bond between the six ran deep, and that being apart was taking a heavy toll.

“If only there were more I could do,” he thought ruefully. “From everything I’ve seen, Pinkie really is a great pony at heart, even if she is consistently unpredictable, and Rarity… well, she probably made the right choice to leave. Goodness knows I had to roam for a while before I found peace. I hope for her sake, though, that it takes weeks rather than months and years. And Rainbow Dash…” Cerulean couldn’t help but place a protective hoof on Dawn’s back as he shook his head. “I can’t imagine what she must be going through right now…”

Refusing to dwell more on the matter without his personal heater nearby, Cerulean laid aside his dire thoughts and set about settling in for the night. Carefully scooping Dawn onto his back, he carried the filly to her bed and tucked her in, lingering at the bedside for a few, thankful that she was well. Quietly closing the door behind him, he returned to the den, tidied up a few of the tomes scattered about, and retired to the couch where he sat perusing advanced magical theory. He had been close to graduating from the Canterlot Academy for Advanced Magical Studies when he had been forced to leave, and Twilight had wholeheartedly supported his decision to finish his degree. Cerulean had only made it through a few pages when a knock at the door drew his attention.

“I wonder who that could be?” Twilight would have known better than to knock that late, and Spike probably would have unintentionally made his presence quite clearly known with the volume of his knocks. “I’ll bet its Fluttershy,” he reasoned to himself as he rose. “Her knocks are pretty quiet.” Quietly plodding over, he opened the door and found himself looking not at the timid pegasus he had expected, but the sheepish smile of the Ponyville party pony. There was no hesitation on Cerulean’s part as he closed the distance between them and wrapped the mare who was so dear to his wife in the loving embrace that Twilight would have given herself.

“Welcome back, Pinkie,” Cerulean murmured quietly. “It’s great to see you again.”

“Cerulean, stop,” she mumbled quietly, pulling away. “Of all the ponies in town that could give me hugs, yours are the ones I definitely don’t deserve.”

“That doesn’t mean that you won’t get them, and it certainly doesn’t change the fact that I’m pleased to see you again,” he countered with an encouraging grin. “Come on in, Pinkie. I’ll bet you’ve got a lot on your mind - and tail, apparently,” he added, noting the small alligator with a death grip on her tail.

“Yeah, Gummy may have been a teeny bit lonely while I was gone,” she conceded with a rueful chuckle, following Cerulean inside. “I’m pretty sure he won’t let me do something like that again.”

“He’s probably not the only one,” Cerulean laughed, offering her the couch as he pulled up a chair. “You’ll be lucky if Applejack doesn’t hogtie you the moment she sees you.” They both shared a giggle at the thought, though Pinkie quickly grew somber. “I’m assuming that you’re here to speak with Twilight?”

“That’s right,” Pinkie confirmed. “Well, actually, I think that you both need to hear what I have to say. Is she home?”

“Not yet, but she will be shortly,” Cerulean replied. “Let me call her.” Grateful that he could find a practical application for some of the jargon he could be studying, Cerulean lit his horn and loosed a small stream of magic that zig zagged up and out, zooming out into the night sky across town. It wasn’t quite the same as sending a scroll like Spike could with his dragon magic, but basic thoughts and messages were simple enough. A short while later, Twilight’s response came in the form of a lavender light that enraptured Cerulean’s horn for a moment before dissipating.

“She’ll be here in a few minutes,” he explained, grinning broadly. “I can already tell she’s excited to see you, so brace yourself.”

“You mean... she’s not upset?” Pinkie asked, sounding unsure. “I would have thought that she would be mad, after what I said to Rarity and Rainbow Dash…”

“She was.” Pinkie cringed, and Cerulean looked into her eyes intently. “Twilight cares deeply for all her friends. Watching a rift be torn between you all really hit her hard, and her default reaction was to blame herself that you and Rarity left.”

“...Rarity left too?”

“Only a few days after she returned from Dodge,” Cerulean recounted, noting how stricken Pinkie looked by the news. “Rarity had a good long talk with Twilight before she made the move to Manehatten, and she seemed at peace with her decision. I wasn’t present for the conversation, so Twilight can tell you more, but from the sounds of it, Rarity was adamant that our attention should be focused on you, not her. Actually,” he added, “if anything, she seemed more like her old self than I had seen her since first coming to Ponyville.”

Mixed didn’t even begin to cover the blend of emotions welling within Pinkie’s chest at the news. On one hoof, hearing that Rarity had seemingly recovered from verbal beat down that Pinkie had given her brought some measure of relief. That same relief, however, brought with it no small measure of guilt for the way she had gone about bringing her grievances to light, and she couldn’t understand how any of what she had said or done might have brought peace when her manner was one of war. She hadn’t long to ponder such things as Twilight appeared in the room with a flash of light. Pinkie hardly managed to lift her hoof in a timid wave before being summarily tackled into the nearest pile of books and hugged within an inch of her life.

“Yeeee! Pinkie, you’re back! You’re really back!” Twilight squealed with delight, rolling to a stop with a book draped over her head at a jaunty angle. “How could you just go running off like that? Oh, I’m so excited to see you! You’d better have an explanation for all of this!” Alternating between sheer elation and stern reproval was comical enough in itself, and Pinkie couldn’t help but chuckle at the mare as every motion caused the book to slowly slide to one side, before finally falling to the ground with a thump as Twilight brought it in for one last hug. “We all missed you, you know,” she murmured softly, holding the embrace. “And we wouldn’t have given up until you came back.”

“...Do you really mean that?” Pinkie asked quietly, releasing Twilight and tucking her hooves to her chest. “Before I left, I wasn’t being much fun at all. Everything I tried seemed to fall flat. I felt like I was just frustrating everypony no matter what I did, and being a bother isn’t any fun at all…”

“Pinkie…” Reaching down with a hoof, Twilight helped Pinkie upright and held her gaze with eyes full of concern. “The reason that we were all frustrated is because you wouldn’t let anypony in,” she explained sadly. “How could we stand to laugh when we knew you weren’t yourself? You were driving yourself so hard, and none of us even knew why. We asked, we pried, we prodded, but all we got from you was denial, Pinkie.” Twilight hadn’t realized that her tone had grown harsh until she saw the tears forming in Pinkie’s eyes, and immediately she dropped her voice to a hush. “We all could see you were hurting, but we didn’t know what to do.”

“... All I wanted was to be noticed,” Pinkie said quietly as the first tear tumbled down her cheek. “When you first arrived, Twilight, it seemed like almost every day we were having some super fun adventure. It didn’t matter to me if things got a little crazy, because the time I shared with all of the girls was the happiest time of my life. All the laughs we shared made me feel… appreciated. Every week was better than the last, and after we survived the invasion of those funny changeling thingies, I… I realized that I never wanted anything to change,” she explained, sniffling a little as she slowly turned towards Cerulean with evident sorrow.

“... but then it did.” Unwilling to look at the sympathy in the stallion’s understanding gaze, she screwed her eyes shut and looked away. “I… I didn’t mind Cerulean at first, really. He was just another pony, another potential friend, and a reason to throw another super fun party that I could share with my friends. But then, the more you two spent time together…”

“... The less time Twilight had for you,” Cerulean finished for her.

“Yep…” Pinkie said with a feeble nod. “I didn’t think much of it at first. I figured she was just excited to have a new friend, and that’s something that I totally understand. What I didn’t get was why you were always on her mind. Even when we did hang out, she seemed super distracted, and sometimes, I felt like I was hardly there at all.”

“Pinkie, I never meant-” Twilight began to say, but stopped as Pinkie held up a hoof.

“I know,” Pinkie interjected, “I know you never meant to make me feel that way. But I did, and it wasn’t just you, Twilight.” She shuddered visibly, even in the dim light. “Rainbow Dash followed next, and then Applejack… and even Fluttershy. Within a few years, almost all of my closest friends had found that one pony that they couldn’t live without, and I… I…” Overtaken by the weight of remorse, Pinkie fell quiet for a few moments as she steeled herself for what would be the hardest words she had ever had to speak, but they had to be said.

“... I resented all of you.” Her admission stood counter to everything that she had sought to uphold. Hearing it come from her own mouth caused the dams to break entirely, and she couldn’t help but bury her muzzle in Twilight’s chest as she began to sob. “I didn’t want to, I really didn’t! I didn’t, I didn’t! I… I didn’t…” Caring hooves folded around Pinkie’s back as she wept. “Please don’t hate me… please, I didn’t- didn’t mean to…”

“Don’t be silly, Pinkie, I could never hate you,” Twilight assured her, tearing up herself. While it hurt to hear that Pinkie had felt alienated, hearing the staunch terror in her voice was far worse. Stroking her mane as she would when Dawn was upset and whispering soothing reassurance in her ear, Twilight and Cerulean both set about calming the mare. Eventually, the tears subsided, and it was with a fragile whisper that Pinkie continued.

“One by one, I watched each of my friends find somepony that made them happy in a way that I couldn’t,” she explained, wiping a hoof across her runny snout. “I felt like my friends were all being snatched away, and I didn’t know what to do. It made me feel like I didn’t matter anymore… like I could just disappear, and nopony would even care. It was so lonely…” She peeked up just long enough to see Twilight’s crestfallen gaze before hiding again. “I can’t... stand feeling alone.”

There was no answer ready on Twilight’s tongue as the mare fell quiet. Looking back over the last few years, Twilight could pinpoint all the signs Pinkie displayed in her behavior that were dead giveaways that something was wrong, and yet she and her friends had collectively missed them all. They had all seen how deeply feelings of seclusion affected Pinkie when they had tried to throw her that surprise birthday party, but the thought of somepony as caring and giving as Pinkie being subjected to that same isolation slowly, and over the course of a few years, was too much for Twilight to fathom.

“Why couldn’t you have just asked for help?” she whispered, tightening her hold as much for her own comfort as for Pinkie’s. “Couldn’t you see that we cared?”

“I was afraid,” she admitted. “I could see that you were happy with Cerulean, just like everypony else was happy with the stallions they had befriended. I knew that it wasn’t right of me to try and take that place, but I couldn’t stop myself from wanting all these new ponies to leave so things could go back to the way they were, I… I thought you’d be angry if said anything. After all, I’m the party pony… I’m only supposed to be fun.”

“Pinkie, I know that you’re pretty silly, but that’s just ridiculous,” Twilight said, managing a laugh. “Nopony could ever expect you to not have times when you’re sad, or upset, or anything else that isn’t explicitly labeled as ‘fun.’ Sharing your worries and doubts is just as important as celebrating the excitement and successes, maybe even more so. Honestly,” she continued with an encouraging grin, “you could stand to spend a little more time with Cerulean here. He knows all about fighting inner battles alone, and why it’s a terrible, awful idea that never works out well. Right?”

“Right!” he confirmed firmly. “I would be more than willing to do whatever I could to keep somepony from falling into the same trap that I did. We aren’t meant to face life’s struggles alone, Pinkie: that’s what friends and family are for. Not just the fun times, but for anything that life blows our way.”

“I’m kinda starting to get that,” Pinkie admitted with a weak giggle. “I feel just awful that I didn’t come to you guys sooner. All of this could have been avoided if I hadn’t been so stubborn.” Her ears drooped a little as she sighed. “I had really started to think that you were all terrible friends that didn’t know me at all, but I see now that I was the one keeping you out. I’m sorry,” she said again, looking towards the two of them. “Both of you. I’m really, really sorry.”

“We’re sorry too, Pinkie,” Twilight replied. “I feel like we should have done more, and there were definitely things that we could have done better, but what matters now is that you’re back, and what we do moving forward.”

“Well, the first thing I’m going to do is apologize for making such a mess on your coat,” Pinkie said with a sheepish grin.

“I’m a mom,” Twilight reminded her with a chuckle. “I’ve dealt with worse, trust me.” Her declaration was so dismissive that Pinkie couldn’t resist having a laugh, and the joyful noise went a long way in dispelling what remained of the somber atmosphere. Pinkie hadn’t known what to expect, but the understanding with which she was met warmed her heart in a way she hadn’t felt from her friends in quite some time. She went on to explain that she had even been worried to open up to her family, but the more she had, the more she came to realize that she needed to come back, and that it was in her father’s firm instruction and the memories in the scrapbook that she found the strength to return. After thanking them again for their understanding, Pinkie lingered for a while before making her way to the door, adamant that she would see the rest of her friends before the night was through. Twilight watched her bounce away as Cerulean joined her at the door.

“You feel like you should have told her about Rainbow Dash, don’t you?” Cerulean said softly. Twilight nodded, hanging her head. There wasn’t much that either of them could say about what had happened mere days before Pinkie’s return, and neither of them could be sure how the recently retired Wonderbolt would react when they met. “I guess you’d better get down to the hospital, then,” he urged her, planting a kiss on her cheek. “You’ll be worrying all night if you stay here.”

“You’re right…” Stealing a quick hug, Twilight stepped out into the night. She could do little else but hope Rainbow Dash would be willing to listen to reason, but rationality isn’t often displayed in times of grief, and she definitely had reason to grieve.

“I may just make it to see everypony tonight after all!” With significant pep restored to her bounding gait, Pinkie Pie welcomed the cool country air brushing against her face as she skipped down the road. “Everypony except Rarity, anyways,” she corrected herself, welcoming the fragrance of apples carried by the light breeze. Pinkie was rather disappointed that she wouldn’t get to apologize to Rarity that evening, especially given that she was the one that had been hurt the most, but at the same time she was grateful, as late as it was. Despite the fact that she was starting to feel like her old self, she could feel the weight of emotional exhaustion creeping in, and reluctantly she ceased her bouncing about and adopted an easy canter as she entered Sweet Apple Acres.

“I’m glad Fluttershy wasn’t angry with me,” Pinkie noted with a rueful grin. “She’s scary when she’s upset.” After leaving the library, Pinkie had made a beeline towards the cottage near the forest edge. It was a well known fact that Fluttershy was a sensitive soul, and while it wasn’t a default for the kindly mare to activate her lecture voice, there was part of Pinkie that still dreaded getting a Fluttershy-style dressing down. Fortunately, what she received was a soaked coat from happy tears, lots and lots of unnecessary sorries, and enough hugging to leave a kink in Pinkie’s neck.

“She sure is stronger than she looks,” she thought with a giggle, rubbing tenderly at her neck. Pinkie knew she meant well, and the slight soreness was actually somewhat comforting, in a strange sort of way. Whisper, her husband, didn’t really know what to make of the whole situation. He didn’t really seem to understand that he had, at one point, been the subject of Pinkie’s ire, but he did join in on the hugging bits, and his childlike concern really went a long way in impressing upon Pinkie just how wrong she had been about pretty much everything.

“I goofed up, and that can only mean one thing,” Pinkie affirmed within herself. “I need to throw them a party!” Already her mind was working furiously on ideas for her first ever apology party extravaganza. With her thoughts full of confetti and streamers galore, she quickly lost track of time and before she knew it, she was standing at the door of Applejack’s pad. She had learned from Fluttershy that Applejack had indeed given birth to a foal in her absence, which left her hesitant to knock lest she wake both mother and child. Settling for a compromise, Pinkie rapped out a simple melody as quietly as her hooves could manage, and after a momentary lull, she was rewarded with muffled hoofsteps on the other side. Prancing in place to keep herself limber, she grinned broadly as a tired farm pony opened the door, saw her guest, and temporarily forgot how to breathe. Very temporarily.

“Howdy, Apple-” Not even managing to finish the mare’s name, Pinkie looked on with confusion as her friend managed a quiet gasp and bolted back inside, her hoofbeats sounding like thunder claps against the quiet of the night. “...Jack?” Pinkie finished, cocking her head to the side. She didn’t have time to ponder what exactly was going on, because mere moments later Applejack came barreling down the hallway and launched herself at Pinkie. Assuming that the disappearance was simply to gather speed for her flying hug, Pinkie let loose a chortle as she was bowled over. The truth of the matter was that Applejack wasn’t about to take any chances with Pinkie Pie slipping away before getting a piece of her mind, and her lasso was going to make sure of it. It didn’t take long for Pinkie to realized that Applejack’s “embrace” may not have been as friendly as she had expected as they tumbled to the ground, her hooves pinned to her sides. When the dust settled, Pinkie found herself well beyond hogtied, and she looked up at Applejack with a sheepish giggle as the stern mare bored down on her.

“There, that ought t’ keep you still long enough fer me t’ speak my mind,” Applejack declared in a reasonably calm tone. It didn’t last long. “Ahem. ...What in tarnation were you thinkin’ runnin’ off like that?!” Pinkie’s ears, one of the few parts of her not strapped down, were summarily blasted back as Applejack bellowed. “You went and scared us all half to death! The whole town has been in a dreadful tizzy since you up and dodged to Dodge, and ain’t nothin’ we’ve been tryin’ has cheered them up. For the love of- do I look like I’m good with balloons?!”

“Have you tried streamers?” Pinkie asked with a timid chuckle.

“Streamers? Streamers?!” Applejack sputtered, stomping a hoof in emphatic frustration. “One of the town’s most caring and fun loving ponies just packs it in and bails, and you think that all it’s gonna take t’ calm ‘em down is a couple of shiny strips of paper?”

“What about confetti? That’s lots of little strips of paper,” Pinkie suggested with a snicker.

“Pinkie!”

“Okay, okay! Sorry, I’ll be serious now,” Pinkie assured her with a rueful grin. She knew Applejack was furious, but she could also tell it was because she was worried sick.

“Huh, I should hope so,” Applejack said with an irate snort. “You’re lucky you decided to come back on your own, because in a few more days I probably woulda gone right down to Dodge and hauled your flank back home mahself. Now,” she continued, leaning close and narrowing her eyes, “you’d better have a good explanation for all of this.”

“I kinda do, and I kinda don’t,” Pinkie admitted. Applejack slowly drew away and took a seat beside Pinkie, though she still hadn’t lost her officious glare.

“... Ah’m listenin’. Start talkin’.” Having come for that very reason, Pinkie took a deep breath and started from the beginning as Applejack’s husband, a unicorn brewer and alchemist by the name of Silver Moonshine, observed from the doorway. Pinkie spared no detail and explained herself as best as she was able, admitting how her stubbornness had prevented her from reaching out to her friends even as the resentment of feeling ostracized continued to grow. Being a pony that had trained her senses to spot lies the moment they arose, Applejack could tell that Pinkie was being honest as she poured out her heart. She had expected something silly from the silly pony, but at that moment Applejack was seeing a completely different side of Pinkie than she had come to know. As Pinkie concluded her recount and apologized both to Applejack, for being too headstrong to acknowledge her need for help, and to Silver, for holding him responsible for the anger and pain that had nearly consumed her, Applejack was left without words for further chastisement.

“... Hold still, ah’ll get these ropes off you,” she said quietly, giving a few tugs in the right places and letting the mess of cords fall free. “Ah had no idea that we had made you feel that way,” Applejack explained, helping Pinkie upright. “We could all see that somethin’ was botherin’ you, but none of us could figure out how to get you to speak up so we could help. Ah guess we coulda tried harder…”

“Don’t blame yourself, Applejack,” Pinkie pleaded, placing and encouraging hoof on the dejected pony’s shoulder. “I stopped giggling at the ghosties, and I let them spook me out. I couldn’t see how much I was pushing you all away, even though all I wanted was to feel close like we used to.” She shared a rueful smile with Applejack. “I guess it’s pretty silly that the pony who likes to make everypony smile wouldn’t let her friends do the same.”

“Silly is puttin’ things lightly, sugarcube,” Applejack replied, cuffing her lightly. “You might have pulled the wool over mah eyes once, but don’t you go thinkin’ you can get away with it again. If you’ve got somethin’ that’s botherin’ you, especially if it’s somethin’ ah’ve done, then you darn well better be ready t’ spill the beans, y’ hear?”

“Hear, hear!” Pinkie chortled. “Actually, I’m surprised I haven’t heard your foal, Applejack. You were pretty loud just now.”

“Oh, Jonagold?” Applejack laughed, shaking her head. “Shoot, that colt could sleep through an earthquake without battin’ an eye - unless he’s hungry, anyways.” Pinkie could practically see the exclamation mark poised over Applejack’s head as she stopped cold. “Goodness, that’s right! You haven’t seen him yet! Would you like t’ meet him?”

“Sure would!” Pinkie quipped, leaping to her hooves. “Lead the way!” Dancing in place as Applejack expertly coiled her rope, the two mares collected a stallion at the door and made their way through the cozy country home and into a smaller side room with a crib nestled by the wall. Pinkie couldn’t help but notice the pride that lit Applejack’s face as she gingerly scooped up the colt, only a few days old, and presented him to Pinkie.

“Awww, Applejack, he’s adorable!” Pinkie said with a muted squeal. An earth pony just as Applejack had predicted, Pinkie could see exactly why the name Jonagold was so fitting for him. Nearly every color that the apple for which he had been named was represented, from the pleasant green of his coat, to his auburn mane was complemented with patches of gold - definitely his father’s genes at work.

“Would you like t’ hold him?” Applejack asked, matching Pinkie’s smile with her own.

“Sure!” Pinkie eagerly replied, accepting the foal into her hooves. Jona gurgled drowsily at the transition, lightly bucking Pinkie in the chest as the pass was made and prompting laughter all around. “He’s definitely got some Apple in him.”

“He sure does,” Applejack agreed, drawing up beside Silver and giving him a quick peck on the cheek. “We did good, didn’t we?”

“Couldn’t have done better, sweetheart,” he returned with an affectionate kiss to her forehead.

“Why couldn’t I see it before?” Pinkie wondered as she watched the two chatter quietly. “They look so happy… how could I have been upset with this?” Where once she had seen her friends’ displays of affection towards their respective partners as nothing short of exasperating, she now found herself wondering if, perhaps, what she had really been feeling was a longing for the same. “A friend that wouldn’t leave,” she pondered, remembering her father’s words as she returned her attention to the slumbering babe nestled into her embrace. “That sounds… really nice.”

“Don’t you fret, now.” Perplexed, Pinkie turned her attention back to Applejack as she trotted over. “You’ll have one of your own someday, ah’m sure of it. Maybe even sooner than ya think,” she added with a wink.

“Applejack, what’re you talking about?” Pinkie asked with a nervous laugh. “I don’t know of anypony that might-” She hadn’t even time to finish the statement before a tingling heat began building in her cheeks, spurred on by Applejack’s knowing look.

“Tell me more about this Merry feller,” Applejack prodded, genuinely curious. “Ah don’t know what your standards are fer datin’ but traipsin’ through a sandstorm has got to count for somethin’ don’t it?”

“It’s not like that!” Pinkie denied, though Applejack’s look made her question herself. “At least, not yet, I don’t think. I don’t know a whole lot about him, and I don’t even know that I’m ready for anything like that. I mean, earlier this afternoon, I was a total wreck,” she reminded Applejack, drooping her head. “I still have a lot of growing up to do. I need to get all that fixed before I even think about, yanno… dating, and stuff. ...Right?”

“Well, see, that depends on how you look at it,” Silver chimed in. “You don’t wait to have friends until you know everything about friendship, do you?”

“Of course not! That’s just plain silly,” Pinkie answered readily.

“There’s your answer right there,” Silver said with a grin. “A special somepony isn’t some mystical pony that you have to be perfect for, or that makes everything roses and ale. They’re a friend, one that you form an unbreakable bond with as you learn and grow together, and as a friend, they accept both your weaknesses, and your strengths, and love you all the same.”

“He’s tellin’ the truth, sugarcube,” Applejack continued. “Shoot, probably half the town has heard about all the problems that Silver an’ I have had to work through. Ah don’t know if you recall, but ah was probably at an all time low when ah met Silver. However,” she continued, shifting course a little, “don’t think for a second that I’m sayin’ that you need t’ date, or that you can just rely on somepony else t’ just fix everything.”

“No, no, I think I get what you’re saying,” Pinkie assured her, giving Jonagold back to his mother. “Things have changed so much for me, even just today, that I still have a lot of questions about lots and lots of stuff. I know that I need to be doing my part to get things cleaned up, and part of that is going to mean letting other people help with the not-so-fun things, instead of just trying to have fun all the time.”

“Pinkie, ah won’t lie. Ah didn’t think ah’d ever be able to say this an’ mean it one hundred percent, but it sounds like you’ve got yer head on straight.”

“Sweetheart, that was a bit much,” Silver chided, though the bountiful laughter filling the room made it clear that Pinkie hadn’t taken offense. They chatted for a while, teasing back and forth and generally taking pleasure in one another’s company over some fine cider. While reluctant to part ways, Pinkie eventually made her way to the door.

“You’re back for good, then right?” Applejack asked as Pinkie pranced out to the porch. “You’re not gonna make me go all the way out to Dodge to tan yer hide, ah hope.”

“Well, actually, I do plan to go back home for a while,” Pinkie informed her. Applejack looked peeved at first, but relented as the mare explained how she wanted to spend some time with her family.

“Ah suppose there’s nothin’ else for it, then,” Applejack conceded. “Family is important, and ah respect your decision, but ah sure wouldn’t mind if you stuck around fer a spell. The town’s well of smiles seems to be in a terrible state of drought since you turned tail, an’ ah know it ain’t just me that would love t’ keep you around.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll here a few days, at least,” she said, punctuating her intent with a hop. “I’ll make sure that everypony has a reason to smile before I leave again.”

“I’d better get the cider ready,” Silver commented with a grin. “Sounds to me like a party’s brewing.”

“Shhh, don’t spoil it!” Pinkie shushed, putting on her best serious face. “It won’t be a surprise if you go around blabbing.”

“Don’t worry, ah’ll keep ‘im in line,” his wife said with a sly smile. “You off t’ bed, then?”

“Actually, I still haven’t talked to Rainbow Dash yet,” Pinkie said casually. “I’m sure that she’ll probably be… be, um…” She fell quiet as the expressions of the two ponies before her grew dire. “Is… something wrong?”

“That’s right, you wouldn’t have heard,” Applejack murmured, looking away.

“Haven’t heard what?” she pressed, doing her best to remain calm even as anxiety coiled in her stomach. Tension mounted as the question was met with extended silence. “Applejack?”

“Ah was hopin’ that Twilight would have told you, but ah guess that responsibility falls on me,” she answered, forcing herself to look at Pinkie. “Pinkie, Dash… she had an accident a few days ago.”

“W-what kind of accident?” she asked, swallowing hard. “Is she alright? She’s alright, right?”

“It wasn’t her that was hurt.” The mare’s pained voice was almost inaudible, and the sound alone was enough to move Pinkie to tears. “...It was one of her foals that was hurt in the crash.”

“No…” Strength fled from Pinkie’s limbs. Her trembling legs gave out as her mind stitched together what had happened, even as Applejack explained.

“Rainbow Dash has- she’s never been one to listen to rules,” the mare, barely able to choke out the words. “She knew better than to be flying around so close to her due date, but when Rarity came back and explained how upset you were, she took off without a moment’s notice. By the time Storm had been told, she was long gone, and he may not have been able to keep up with her anyways.” Applejack wanted to stop. She could see the guilt welling in Pinkie’s eyes already, but she had to know.

“I don’t know what you said to her,” Applejack continued, her voice low, “or what she said to you, but when she returned, she was like a completely different pony. She was yellin’ about everything, especially at Storm, and nothin’ we said seemed to make a lick of difference. And then, day that Rarity left…” It wasn’t her intent to make things work, but being a mother herself, even thinking about what had happened to her friend tore her apart.

“She… she had a really strong contraction while she was flying, and... lost control.” Were it not for her husband’s comforting embrace, Applejack doubted that she would have been able to finish. “The resulting crash induced her labor early. One of her foals, an earth pony, was born healthy and without complications. But the other, a pegasus filly, she-” A shudder raced over the stalwart pony, and she pressed closer as her voice dropped to a deathly hush. “Both of the child’s wings had been broken in the crash. The doctors have high hopes that she’ll live, but they don’t know if she’ll ever fly, and Dash has barely spoken a word since.”

With her muzzle pressed down to the dust that had been sprinkled with her tears, Pinkie bowed her head under a burden too great for her to bear. No matter what way she looked at it, her actions had orchestrated a disaster greater than she had ever imagined. All of the stubborn rebellion in her heart that had prompted her to lash out came roaring back to the forefront of her mind, threatening to drown out the light of reason with the tides of sorrow. No amount of seeming wrongdoing could ever be justification for her anguish, not if what she had been told was the result. Pinkie didn’t have to hear Rainbow Dash’s condemnation because she knew that she was to blame, and nothing she could say or do would ever undo what had happened.

“Why couldn’t Merry have helped her instead?” Pinkie thought, feeling as though she might vomit from the shame. “I was the one in the wrong! I’m the one who deserves to have something bad happen, not Dashie! Not like this…” She likely would have laid there the whole night through were it not for the hoof that hoisted her upright and dusted her off, but even with Applejack standing right there, she couldn’t stand to look at her.

“Ah know you’re probably blamin’ yerself somethin’ fierce right now,” Applejack began, her voice sounding hoarse, “but you’re the only pony that might have a chance of getting through to her. We’ve all tried, an’ failed, t’ comfort her. She was really hurt by whatever you said, Pinkie, but it hurt because you matter to her, and ah know she matters t’ you, too.”

“... W-where is s-she?” came Pinkie’s stammered reply. All she wanted at that moment was to curl into a ball and cry herself to sleep, but she knew that she would never forgive herself if she didn’t do anything and everything within her power to comfort the friend she had so deeply wounded.

“She’s at the hospital,” Applejack said, motioning down the road. “She hasn’t left her filly’s side since the accident.” Though she wouldn’t have said so, Applejack had secretly hoped that Pinkie would be at least somewhat stricken by the news. She knew that Pinkie had the propensity to ignore the seriousness of things in an attempt to maintain a sense of levity, but Applejack had never expected that the mare would be so openly devastated, and it really drove home that Pinkie had indeed changed. There was a time and a place for a laughter, and she was showing quite clearly that she could tell this wasn’t the time.

“Silver, could you walk her down to the clinic?” she asked, turning towards her husband who gave an understanding nod.

“B-but I don’t deserve-”

“It ain’t about what you deserve,” Applejack interjected, cutting Pinkie off. “It’s about what you’re gettin’, and what you’re gettin’ is support, same as I’d give to any of my friends. Dash is hurting right now and so are you, and you both need all the comfort you can get. I’d go myself, but Jona will probably be waking soon, and I need to be around.”

“I wouldn’t argue with her,” Silver said gently, noting the hesitation in Pinkie’s glassy eyes as he drew up beside her, holding her steady. “Come on, now, you’re almost home.”

Barely able to nod, Pinkie dipped her head and started down the road, leaning heavily upon the stallion beside her. From what she knew of him, Silver had quite a knack for being a conversationalist, but Pinkie was grateful that he held his peace as they walked. Her mind frantically searched for words that she might say, some tidbit that might be able to soothe the sting what had happened, but nothing she could think of even began to cover how she had wronged Rainbow Dash. Her thoughts got crossed even further as she was forced to a sudden halt by Silver’s hoof, and she couldn’t help but cower as Storm’s massive frame swooped out of the night sky and landed with a rush of wind and static, blocking their path. He didn’t say a word, but he didn’t need to: there was wrath in his eyes.

“... Storm,” Silver acknowledged the hulking pegasus. There came no verbal response. Storm’s coat was dark enough that he almost melted into the night, but there was no mistaking the fury in fulgid yellow eyes that remained fixated upon the trembling mare standing behind a unicorn that he could easily crush underhoof. “Spreading your grief won’t make it heal any faster,” Silver said firmly. “Taking your anger out on Pinkie won’t undo what’s already been done. You know that, Storm. Don’t add regret to your sorrow doing something rash.” His eyes flicked away briefly before snaring Pinkie once again with his searing gaze.

“... Fix it.” Scarcely able to keep upright from the massive backdraft caused by his takeoff, Storm shot off into the night, disappearing quickly from sight.

“Thank the stars,” Silver murmured, turning to find Pinkie shaking like a leaf. While he had been prepared to defend the mare should things have escalated, he doubted that he would have won, and would definitely not have walked away unscathed. “I apologize for Storm, Pinkie. He’s been struggling to cope as much as Rainbow Dash, and he’s been having quite a rough time trying to keep his temper in check.”

There wasn’t much for Pinkie to add, and they resumed their journey in silence. It was almost a relief when the hospital finally came into view, and it would have been were it not for the fact that if Storm was upset enough to threaten her the way he had, then she could only imagine the kind of reception she’d get from Rainbow Dash. Fortunately for her nerves, she found a friendly face waiting for her as they entered, and she regarded Twilight with fatigued relief as she neared.

“Evenin’ Twilight,” Silver said courteously, relinquishing Pinkie into her care.

“She looks like she’s seen a ghost,” Twilight said worriedly, embracing the mare as she stumbled over and all but collapsed in her waiting hooves. “Did something happen, or is she just upset about Rainbow Dash?”

“A bit of both, I’m afraid,” he conceded, shaking his head. “Storm gave us both quite a scare when we were heading over. I really thought that he was going to try and hurt Pinkie, but fortunately he wasn’t in the mood for a brawl.”

“Ach, ye know better than that, Silver.” At the sound of the telling dialect, the ponies turned to find that their resident nightwatch had slipped in behind them at some point during the course of the conversation. “Storm’s been havin’ a rough time o’ et lately,” Silent Gale said ruefully, stepping further inside. “Poor lad ain’t been himself. Ah’ve done what I can t’ help, but all I can do is keep ‘im in check, make sure he doesn’t do anything that he’ll regret. Make no mistake, he probably would’ve taken a swipe at ye if I hadn’t been watchin’.”

“Then thank goodness you were,” Silver replied with a weak grin. “I would have done my best to protect Pinkie from harm, but Storm’s got size, weight, and strength over me, and I don’t think my magic would have done much to help.”

“Ye could ‘ave stalled, I’m sure,” Gale chuckled, smacking him lightly on the shoulder before trundling over to Pinkie. “I’m sorry about Storm, lass. I’ll pray ye find it in yer heart t’ forgive the lad.”

“Th-thanks, Gale,” she murmured. “I know he’s just upset…”

“Heh, you don’t know the half of it,” Gale muttered, turning away. “I’ll be on my way, then.”

“Thank you for watching out for them, Gale. Take care,” Twilight said, watching him leave. “Silver, you can probably head home, too. I’ll make sure that Pinkie makes it home safely.”

“I reckon the missus is missin’ me,” he chuckled. “I’ll be seeing you, Twilight, Pinkie. Keep your chins up.” Seeing him off with a feeble wave, Pinkie let her hoof fall to the floor with a dull thud. Her limbs felt like lead, and her nausea had only been exacerbated by Storm’s menacing posture, but now that she had made it to the hospital, she couldn’t even begin to think about running away. And yet, even as she leaned on Twilight for support, she found herself drawing strength from somepony else as she remembered the colt that had gone through so much for her.

“I’ll bet that Merry felt even worse than this,” she thought, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath. “And that was for me, a pony that he had never met. I couldn’t possibly turn away from Rainbow Dash, not if there’s a chance that I might be able to help.” Steeling her nerves and determined to do for another what had already been done for her, she cracked open her eyes and found Twilight watching her intently. “I… I think I’m ready.”

“... Alright,” she nodded, “I’ll lead the way.” Pausing briefly to make sure that Pinkie was steady enough to stand on her own, Twilight led her down the sterile halls and towards the maternity ward, explaining a little more about the situation as they went. Because the birth of her twins was only a mere number of days before her actual due date, there weren’t any major complications. The filly had been kept in the NICU for a day or two while they did what they could to repair the damage done to her wings. It was early that morning when she had been cleared to be moved into the nursery, which wasn’t commonly used.

“Rainbow Dash hasn’t left the hospital since her babies were born,” Twilight explained, cantering to a halt outside the nursery. “She hardly touches the food that we bring her, and she doesn’t appear to be getting much rest.” Another sigh slipped from her lips as she glanced towards the door. “I honestly don’t know how she’ll respond to seeing you. I really, really am hoping that maybe she’ll listen to you, but I’ll be right outside if things start to get out of control.”

“You mean you’re not coming with me?” Pinkie asked, making no effort to mask her hesitancy.

“I’m afraid I may have already worn out my welcome,” Twilight replied quietly, turning away. “After losing two of my friends in such a short amount of time, I was desperate to keep from losing a third, and I… I guess I tried too hard. She won’t say a word to me now, or… or even acknowledge that I’m there.” Of all of her friends, Pinkie knew that Twilight was the one who took it upon herself to be the mediator between the Elements, always ready to leap in and do anything she could to resolve conflict and preserve harmony, and the heartbreak that she had felt from the Pinkie had left up until that night was evident as she cast her gaze towards the ground. “Please, don’t let her slip away,” she whispered. “I don’t want to lose another.”

“I’ll do everything I can,” Pinkie assured her, offering what comfort she could in a hug. “I may have left, but I also came back, so don’t lose hope, ‘kay?”

“Thanks, Pinkie,” Twilight murmured, smiling as she sniffed a little. “But you shouldn’t be worried about me. Rainbow Dash needs you more.”

“Doesn’t make you need me any less, silly,” Pinkie snickered quietly as she pulled away. “You keep that up and I’ll have to give you a lecture.”

“I’ll look forward to it.” While the laughter they shared was bittersweet, it still went a long way in soothing their nerves, and they both fell quiet again as Pinkie turned towards the door. She lingered briefly outside as she adopted an appropriately somber expression before gently pressing on the handle and slipping inside. Despite taking great pains to make sure the door closed as quietly as possible, the click of the latch still sounded uncomfortably loud to her ears as she looked around the dimly lit room. There were two rows of six cribs, a rocking chair, and quite a bit of counter space, but all in all the room felt claustrophobic. It didn’t take long for Pinkie to find the pony whom she sought, and her heart seemed to falter a little more with every step that she took towards the pony slumped by the only two occupied cribs.

“Oh, Rainbow Dash…” It was as though somepony had stripped away every ounce of life from her lively, competitive friend and left only the battered husk. Her mane hadn’t been brushed in days and had lost its sheen, with even the brightest streaks of yellow seeming dull. Deep bags rimmed her eyes, and while the mare had always maintained a lithe, athletic physique, Pinkie couldn’t help but notice how desperately her feathers needed to be preened. Her eyes were barely cracked open, but they didn’t seem to see, and the mare gave no sign of noticing her company as Pinkie sank down beside her.

“... Dashie?” Pinkie whispered, swallowing hard. Rainbow Dash flinched, but otherwise didn’t respond. “Dash? It’s me, Pinkie. Remember?” With a shiver the mare stirred, slowly turning to towards Pinkie and staring with vague confusion at what perceived to be an apparition.

“... You’re not Pinkie,” she muttered, turning back towards the crib. “The real Pinkie hates me.”

“No, you’ve got it all wrong!” Pinkie pleaded, putting a hoof on the mare’s shoulder. “I never hated you, never ever! I was just scared, and I didn’t know what to do, and I said all sorts of mean things that I wish I could take back, but I can’t, so I came back because I needed to tell you that it was wrong of me to act that way!” Something was different the second time that Rainbow Dash turned to look at her, something that Pinkie couldn’t quite put her hoof on. It was almost as if Rainbow Dash was struggling to see what was right in front of her, and she stared in silence for what seemed like an eternity before her eyes suddenly widened.

“P-Pinkie?” she whispered.

“This isn’t right. Something’s wrong,” Pinkie thought worriedly as Rainbow Dash lurched away from her hoof. “Dashie, it’s okay, everything is-”

“S-s-stay away!” Rainbow Dash yelped, falling to the floor with a crash as she scrambled to get away.

“Dash, what’s-”

“D-don’t come near me!” Spreading her wings, she made as if to wing away, but between her sleepless delirium and the unkempt state of her feathers, she only succeeded in gliding a short distance before slamming into the counters at the opposite end of the room.

“Rainbow Dash, please, calm down!” Pinkie cried out, cringing as the two foals in the room woke at the commotion and began to wail. After having helped raised the Cake twins, Pinkie’s immediate response was to try and soothe the upset children, but she had barely started to reach for them when a cyan streak shot across the room, bowling her over and scattering a few of the cribs.

“Don’t you touch them!” Rainbow Dash growled.

“Then stop scaring them and calm them down!” Pinkie snapped back.

“I can’t do that!”

“And why not?!”

“Because you were right when you said that I’m not fit to be a mother!” Pinkie didn’t even feel the blow to her chest as Rainbow Dash slammed her hoof down, tears streaming down her muzzle as she crumpled to floor. “You were right,” Dash choked out, sobbing quietly. “You were right, I’m not ready for this. I’m not ready, I’m not ready, I’m… I’m not…”

There was little that Pinkie could do but hold the mare as she wept, shamefully admitting to everything about parenting that she had failed, even before the foals were born, with every confession making the reason for her grief painfully clear. Rainbow Dash had jumped into motherhood as much out of her lust for competition as anything else, only making the decision in response to hearing that Applejack had conceived. Throughout the eleven months leading up to birth, she had continuously shrugged off the advice of friend and doctor alike by continuing in her daredevilry and aerial acrobatics, even if she did tone them down, and it was ultimately that same rebellion that had led to the injury of her daughter.

“When I tried to bring you back, you said… you said that I was too selfish to be a good parent,” Rainbow Dash rasped out, her voice growing hoarse. “You said that if I couldn’t even put the needs of my children first and listen to the doctors, then there was no way I could be a good friend, and you were right.” Pinkie wanted to interject, to tell Rainbow Dash she had it all wrong, but the more Rainbow Dash continued to talk, the more she could see how true her words had been, even though they had been spoken in anger. In her ardent denial and abject frustration with being told what she hadn’t wanted to hear, she had put her own feelings above the safety of her foals, and the bandaged wings of the filly sitting a short distance away was proof of her negligence.

“I can’t do this,” Rainbow Dash squeaked in a pained whisper. “There’s nothing I can do to change how selfish I’ve been. My friendships are tanking, Storm probably doesn’t want anything to do with me, I can’t even stand to look in the mirror anymore, and those foals…” She shuddered, a fresh stream of tears coursing down her cheeks as she listened to them cry. “They deserve somepony better than me.”

“What do I say…” Of all the ponies qualified to be consoling Rainbow Dash and confronting all of the doubts that she had, Pinkie felt as though she were on the bottom of the list. She had only just recently realized that she had changes to make herself, and every second that passed without her having anything to say felt like watching a door slowly being closed. Fervently searching for the answer, she closed her eyes and drew the mare close, rocking her gently. It was again the memory of what Merry had done for her that she realized what Rainbow Dash needed most was a reminder that what once was could be again, and that nothing she had done prevented her from paving an even better future.

“Wait right here,” Pinkie murmured, peeling away from the mare and rising to her hooves. Quietly making her way over to the frightened foals, Pinkie found that the colt, an earth pony, had already ceased crying and sat with his hooves pressed against the edge of the crib, looking intently at his mother. The filly, scarcely able to stand from the bandages binding her wings, was doing the same, and Pinkie reached down with great care and carried them both over to where their mother lay trembling. The moment they had been set down, the colt scuttled over to his mother, only to realize that his sister was still far behind. Darting over to her side, he helped nudge her over, and she immediately nestled up to her mother, clinging tightly to her foreleg.

“I think they’ve missed their mommy,” Pinkie said softly, taking a seat beside her. “I may not be the greatest teacher, Rainbow Dash. I’m not that great with words, and there are loads of things that I still need to learn, but one thing I do know is that we aren’t meant to tackle our challenges alone. You say that you can’t change how selfish you’ve been, and that’s true,” she admitted. “Nopony can change the past, but the future is… like an unfrosted cupcake!”

“... A cupcake?”

“Yeah! You can put all sorts of things on a cupcake!” Pinkie explained with a grin. “Not everything makes a tasty cupcake, though, like glue. Glue is icky! Nothing like the whipped, creamy goodness of cream cheese frosting....”

“... You’re drooling on my hoof.”

“Oops! Sorry, got sidetracked,” Pinkie apologized with a sheepish chuckle, wiping a hoof across her mouth. “Listen, Dashie, you keep making this sound like all the responsibility is riding on your shoulders, but it isn’t. You’ve got lots of friends that want to help you keep the glue away from your cupcakes, but you have to let them in. Don’t push everypony away like I did,” she pleaded gently. “You don’t have to do this alone.”

“But I already drove everypony away,” Rainbow Dash countered, hanging her head and really showing the depth of the frailty she fought so hard to hide. “What if they don’t come back? What if they don’t forgive me? What if… what if I hurt my kids again...” She didn’t have the strength left to fight the hoof that reached under her chin and gently guided her eyes towards those of the pony that she had been sure would never speak to her again.

“Rainbow Dash?” Pinkie whispered, her eyes filling with tears as she looked down at her dear friend. “I came back. I forgive you. And they love you.” Taking care not to bother the foals slumbering at Dash’s hooves, Pinkie leaned over and drew her friend to her chest as tears of a different kind began to fall. She hadn’t known how deeply Rainbow Dash had longed for Pinkie Pie’s forgiveness and the restoration of their friendship, and Pinkie had, in three short sentences, driven away a despair not unlike the one that had overtaken her, and threatened to rob her of the friends that she held so dear. Instead, in the course of one night, she had reclaimed what she had cast away, and had been blessed with the opportunity to help someone else do the same. As exhaustion ran its course and she slipped into a doze, she did so with a warm smile spread across her muzzle, thinking fondly of the pony that she had left behind in Dodge who had helped her put away the glue.

Back Again

Confetti was everywhere. Seemingly rivaling the dust on a one to one ratio, Pinkie had gone to great lengths to make sure that her Apolopalooza Sorryfest Mega Party was something extraordinary, with the results being a town wide hoedown that had left Ponyville decked house to Hall in color and good cheer. Any party was something to remember, and every smile reason to celebrate, but that afternoon had been perhaps the most meaningful celebration since the very first party she threw for her family on the rock farm. It wasn’t just a party for one that was shared by many, but a grand jubilee for each and every pony of Ponyville, and shared with all, for all. Between coordinating with the Mayor to make the celebration happen, teaming up with her friends to procure all the decorations and get things set up, and even personally requesting the attendance of the royal sisters, Pinkie had been scrambling like mad to make sure that the day she returned to Dodge wouldn’t be one of sadness as it had been before.

As she tumbled into the train coach with a gleeful squeal and flopped onto her back amidst a flurry of confetti from her mane, she watched the colors cascade around her while a warm grin wrapped her muzzle in contentment. There had been so many details to keep track of that she knew for sure she would have bungled the whole thing were it not for her friends, but the moment that Celestia had inaugurated the occasion with the raising of the sun, all of the work had been made worth it. Any remnant of distress that her actions had caused melted away as the gentle light of the morn mingled with live music, blasts of confetti, the finest cider from Sweet Apple Acres, and a whole host of attractions to bring a chuckle to even the most sour of ponies. Her whole day had been rather surreal, but between her exhaustion and the treasures she had carefully tucked away into her saddlebag, she knew that she really had thrown her biggest party ever, and more importantly, she had shared it with her friends.

“Shucks, Pinkie, ah don’t think you could look any happier if ya tried!”

“Hehe! You might just be right!” the mare giggled, rolling onto her stomach and beaming over at Applebloom as she hopped up onto the adjacent seat. “I really appreciate you coming along, Applebloom. You too, Rumble,” she added as the young pegasus clambered up beside the young farm pony. Though still quite young, Applebloom and Rumble had formed a tight bond with one another despite their talents being diametrically opposed, and Pinkie couldn’t help but get a kick out of watching the two. Applebloom had discovered that she possessed an innate talent with fixing things and had really taken an interest in carpentry in the past months. Rumble, on the other hoof, was more likely to put himself through the window he was trying to clean, and consequently his talent with demolition had come as little surprise to those that knew the accident -prone colt.

“Don’t mention it!” Applebloom quipped. “Ah’m always happy fer a chance t’ bust out mah mallet. Besides, if this Merry fella has been as nice t’ you as you said, then it’d be an honor t’ fix up his busted cart. It’s a real shame that his garden got all messed up by the storm, though.”

“Uh huh,” Rumble agreed. “There’s probably still tons of sand that needs to be shifted. I’ll have that garden cleared out in no time.”

“Just make sure there’s still a place fer the garden when yer done,” Applebloom teased, flashing the colt a wink.

“Don’t worry, I left the fun stuff at home,” Rumble countered, taking the jest in stride. “I was planning on using my hooves.”

“Yer brother wouldn’t let you take any rockets, huh?” While quite adept with breaking things with both hammer and face, the colt had taken a particular interest in fireworks as of late, with the results being less flashy and more explodey. Rumble adopted an indignant expression before fessing up with a sullen mutter.

“...Nuh uh.”

“Ah knew it!”

“Don’t worry about it Rumble, your rockets were great!” Pinkie consoled him with a snicker. “I’m sure that those flowers had it coming, anyways.” They all had a laugh at the unfortunate demise of the wildflowers that were on the fringe of the launch site, and as the young couple chatted amongst themselves, Pinkie turned her attention towards the window as the train started to move. Parting ways with her friends so soon after making amends was a touch bittersweet, but having them all present brought a warming sense of peace. With the sound of the town’s merrymaking quickly fading away, Pinkie closed her eyes and placed a hoof over her saddlebag, knowing that the pictures that lay within would always be there to remind her that she would always be in their thoughts, just as they would be in hers, and she allowed her mind to wander as she recalled the last three days.

“Geez, these last few days have really flown by,” she thought to herself with a wearied yawn. “It sure feels great to lay down…” Hectic didn’t even begin to address the pace that she had set for herself. There were ponies to chat with, troubles to reassure, friends that needed her support, and generally just stuff to do all day, every day. She had even managed to squeeze in a visit to Manehatten to spend a few hours with Rarity, which had been a really good thing for both of them, though most of her “spare” time, if it could even be called that, was spent doing what she could to help Rainbow Dash.

“I know she knows that I’m really super sorry for being as mean as I was, but I’m still sorry,” Pinkie reflected remorsefully. “I didn’t think that I was right…” While still something she struggled to accept, Pinkie was beginning to realize that the same shrewdness that aided her in bringing other ponies a smile could alternatively pinpoint the very things that would hurt somepony the most when she was upset. It was something that she hadn’t known about herself, being a generally cheerful pony, but the wounds that she had carved into Rainbow Dash with her scathing words weren’t something that would heal overnight, and she wasn’t about to shrug off the responsibility for how it had affected her friend. And yet, even though she was torn over what she had done, there was still much that she had to be thankful for, and she found herself misty eyed as she recalled being there to watch Rainbow Dash finally give names to her foals.

“I’ve never seen somepony look so caring,” she recalled, discretely rubbing her eyes with a hoof. It was evident that Rainbow Dash was still terrified at the responsibility of being a mother, but like a squall rising from Everfree, a fierce and determined love had begun to form as she accepted her new role. And, while Pinkie hadn’t noticed it the first night that she saw the foals, Dash’s children were really something.

Even being just days old, it was obvious to everyone that the colt had inherited his grandfather’s strength, and was named Sanguine Shroud on account of his ominous color palette of muted violet and carmine. Twilight was eager to explain that the term “sanguine” actually had a much older and light-hearted definition, and everypony agreed that “enthusiastic” was much more fitting than “bloody.” Shroudy, as Pinkie had taken to calling him, couldn’t seem to sit still, and was always moving about, though he never seemed to stray too far from his sister, whose beauty was matched only by the pain that she would have to face in her life.

With a silver coat and faded, reddish eyes, Cloudy Hues seemed, on all accounts, as though she might have been born albino were it not for her mother. Her mane contained every color of the rainbow, but the colors were drab, as though they had been muted with gray. At the tips of her hooves, ears, wings, and mane, little patches of white could be seen. They looked reminiscent of clouds, and thus her name was decided. What wasn’t set was her future.

Pinkie couldn’t understand all of the details, but Dash’s pegasus filly had been born with some kind of condition that made her considerably weaker than the average pony. The doctor suspected that was why her wings had been broken in the fall, and Pinkie could recall shedding tears as Dash explained that her daughter may never fly. It was clear that Rainbow longed dearly that her daughter might one day take flight, but there was simply no way for anypony to know. Cloudy’s story, however, had only just begun, and despite her apparent weakness, she got back up after every time she fell. Everypony could see that she had her mother’s strength of spirit, and Pinkie earnestly believed that Rainbow Dash would one day have the joy of teaching her daughter to fly.

“Hey, Pinkie?”

“Huh?” Having been deep in contemplation, Pinkie had almost entirely forgotten the fact that there were ponies traveling with her, and she stared blankly at Applebloom. “Y-yeah, what is it?”

“Well, ah know it ain’t any of mah business,” she started, looking apologetic, “but ah just gotta ask… do you like Merry?” Of all the subjects that could have been raised, her interest in the colt had to be the farthest from where her mind had been at that moment. It was such a dramatic shift that her initial response was just to cock her head to the side in abject confusion.

“... What’re we talking about?” Pinkie asked, genuinely lost.

“We’re talkin’ about Merry,” Applebloom explained in a very matter of fact tone. “Ah may not be that old, but ah know if Rumble here jumped into a sandstorm just t’ be with me, ah’d feel just honored that ah was so important to ‘im! That’s gotta make you feel pretty special, don’t it?”

“W-well, I…” Pinkie stammered, taken off guard. With how chaotic her time in Ponyville had been, she hadn’t really had time to think much about Merry. Considering that they had nothing but time on the train, however, she couldn’t really imagine herself dodging the question for long, and playing her usual distraction card didn’t really seem appropriate. That, and she was honestly curious herself.

“... Yeah, I guess it does make me feel pretty special,” she said after a few moments of thought. “I’m not happy that he got hurt, but I am really happy that he rescued all those memories from the storm. I probably wouldn’t have had the courage to come back to Ponyville if he hadn’t! That doesn’t mean that I like him, though.” The younger ponies both shared a quizzical look.

“... Why not?” Applebloom asked.

“Because I hardly know him, silly!” Pinkie said with a giggle, noting the consternation on Applebloom’s face. “We haven’t hardly had the chance to chat because I was so down in the dumps when we met, but that’s one of the reasons I’m so excited about going to see him today! He was just fun to talk to, and I felt really comfortable around him. I know he won’t be able to do much until his hoof gets better, but that’s okay. Besides,” she added with a chuckle, “his favorite color is me, and that means pink is his favorite! Woo!”

“You know, Pinkie, as much as you’re goin’ on about why you ain’t allowed t’ like ‘im yet, it sure sounds like you have plenty of reasons that you should,” Applebloom pointed out. The filly had expected some manner of rebuttal to follow, knowing how stubborn she was herself at first to admit that she had taken an interest in Rumble, but instead, Pinkie just laughed.

“Duh! It’s not like I said there weren’t,” she stated plainly. “There’s already a heaping mountain of reasons why I could like him, but there are still a lot of things that I don’t know about him, and that he doesn’t know about me. I don’t want to jump to any conclusions, or hop to any assumptions, or even skip to the finale! No,” she said resolutely, “this is something I don’t want to rush.” Applebloom considered Pinkie’s words with a mixture of confusion and disappointment before responding.

“Pinkie, ah don’t know what’s come over you, but ah don’t think ah’ve ever heard you so level-headed about somethin’ this complicated,” she commented with a shake of her head. “Ah thought for sure that you were interested in Merry…”

“Of course I’m interested! Why would you think anything else?” Pinkie asked, cocking her head to one side. “That’s, like, exactly what I said. I said ‘I can’t say if I like Merry yet because I need to spend more time around him but I’m super excited to spend more time around him so I’m going back to Dodge to spend time with my family while getting to know Merry more so I can find out if he likes me so that I can like him and then we could maybe date while taking things really slow so my daddy doesn’t mangle Merry before we marry!’” Her audience couldn’t have looked more lost. “...That’s what I said, right?”

“Uhhh…” Processing… done. “Nuh uh,” came Rumble’s response for both of them. “So… you’re getting married?”

“W-what?!” Pinkie exclaimed, flushing deeply. “It’s way too early to even be thinking about that, Rumble! Why would you say that?”

“You said it first.”

“No, I-” she started before stopping cold. “Wait... did I? Oh, gosh, I did! Where did that even come from?” “W-what I meant, was… you see, it’s kinda like- oh look, a cactus!” Directing her attention towards the arid landscape rushing by and away from Applebloom’s growing smirk, Pinkie distracted herself counting the needles of a passing cactus while waiting for the perplexing heat in her cheeks to simmer down. As adamant as she was that she wouldn’t slap a label on whatever feelings she may or may not hold for Merry after having only spent a short time with him, she couldn’t deny that there was something different about the colt. She knew what embarrassment was, and she knew what it was like to blush, but what she didn’t understand was how the thought of Merry had become the ignition switch for both.

“She likes ‘im.”

“Uh huh.”

Pinkie didn’t respond to their goading, primarily because she hadn’t any kind of answer to give. Thankful for the lull in the conversation, she continued staring out at the desert sand and delved deeper into the one thing that she had avoided thinking too heavily on, that being the feelings that she might actually have for Merry.

“... Do I like him?” she wondered, gently pressing a hoof to her cheek. It was still quite warm, and seemed sensitive to the touch. Romance had been something that Pinkie had never really given much thought, and most of the time she had spend pondering the subject was spent in bitterness that her friends were making more time for strangers than they were for her. “But isn’t that what I’m doing now? I had everypony worried when I left, and now I’m leaving again, just like that, because there’s somepony else that I want to see...” She hadn’t been lying when she told her friends that she wanted to spend more time with her family, but she had no idea how strong of a pull the thought of spending more time with Merry had in tugging her back to Dodge. Pinkie’s ears drooped a little as she realized how hypocritical she was being.

“I know they would understand if I had told them that Merry was the reason I was coming back to Dodge, but I still feel awful about leaving them just to spend more time with him. Or maybe I don’t? I don’t know…” She really didn’t. More and more, she was starting to realize how much of an impression Merry had left on her in a way that few ponies had, and just the thought of being around him seemed to brighten her day. “Is this really what it feels like to like like? Seems pretty likely,” she thought with a timid smile. “But I won’t say it until I’m sure. One step leads to two, and that’s exactly what I’m gonna do. I don’t mind taking this slow, because...”

“... You’re worth being boring,” she whispered, grinning wider as the warmth spread into her chest, “and that’s something I can say that I like.” The rest of the train ride passed by uneventfully, and it seemed like only a few minutes later that they were stepping out into Dodge Central Station. While Applebloom gathered her tools, Pinkie loaded up a small cart with sturdy planks before helping Rumble into the harness, after which they set off for Merry’s house. It was mid-afternoon, which meant they had a few hours before they’d need to head back to Pinkie’s house to crash for the night.

“Shoot, they’re still cleanin’ up?” Applebloom exclaimed, looking around at the mounds of sand that had been heaped at the sides of the road. “Ah sure am glad we don’t have storms like that in Ponyville. That’d make one heck of a mess in the orchard.”

“You should have seen Merry’s garden,” Pinkie commented as she too took in her surroundings. The townsfolk were industrious, and the dusty surroundings made it difficult to keep anything truly clean, but even an outsider could tell that it was worse than normal. “You could hardly even tell that there were plants under all that sand. It was a good sized garden, too. Merry looked really worried about it when he got home...”

“Don’t you worry ‘bout a thing, Pinkie,” the hard-working filly said confidently. “Between the three of us, ah’m sure we’ll get that garden fixed up in no time!”

“Uh huh!”

“Thanks, you two. C’mon, let’s get a move on!” It didn’t take long for them to find the cottage that bordered the forest outside of town. Applebloom had been pretty sure of her ability to get the garden in order with Rumble’s assistance, but as they neared, the filly realized that she may have spoken in haste. Miniature dunes had formed in the areas that Chai had managed to clear herself, but many of the herbs still lay buried. Pinkie hadn’t thought that the garden would have still been in such a state of disrepair, but as she spotted the pony she assumed to be Vanilla Chai sunk down to her haunches and staring blankly at the sand, she realized that the damage done hadn’t just been physical.

“Um, excuse me…” Pinkie said unsteadily, carefully stepping over the shattered fence-posts. She watched the mare blink a few times before slowly turning towards her visitor, her expression betraying not the slightest hint of emotion. “You must be Vanilla Chai, right?” There was an awkwardly long silence before she made any motion to respond, and when she did open her mouth to speak, she found herself interrupted by an audible whump coming from inside the house. Both mares turned towards the cottage where Merry had plastered his face against the window, waving enthusiastically, and Pinkie couldn’t help but crack a smile as she waved back.

“Yes, I am Chai. You must be Pinkie Pie,” Chai said softly, rising to her hooves and looking her guest over. “My brother speaks of you quite often.”

“Gosh, this mare is tough to get a read on,” Pinkie thought to herself. There was nothing openly hostile about her, but neither did she appear very welcoming. “He does? Are they good things?”

“Yes.” Being a strong conversationalist was something that Pinkie felt came naturally for her, but Chai sure wasn’t giving her much to work with. “Did you come here to see Minty?”

“Actually, I-”

“Oh mah goodness!” Startled by the outcry, both ponies watched wordlessly as Applebloom rushed over to the busted tea cart sitting a short ways from the shed. “Oh, you poor thing! Ah knew you’d been roughed up, but this is just awful! Don’t you worry now,” she said soothingly, stroking a hoof over the splintered sides, “ah’ll get you right as rain!” The diversion gave Pinkie enough time to collect herself. Drawing some comfort from the pony inside the cottage and the vigorous wagging of his tail, she turned back to Chai and met her bemused look with a rueful smile.

“Chai, the truth is that I feel just awful about what happened to your garden,” Pinkie explained. “Merry told me about how much you love your tea, and when I saw how much the sandstorm had messed everything up, I just knew I had to find a way to help. I’m not much good in a garden, and I’m even worse with tools, but that’s why I brought some friends to help out. Applebloom over there is great at fixing stuff,” she said, motioning towards the filly mumbling to her newest project. “And Rumble here can at least help you clear away the sand.”

“Uh huh!” he quipped, taking a few steps forward. “I’ll do whatever I can to help.”

“Merry went through a lot for me,” Pinkie concluded solemnly, glancing towards the window. “It wouldn’t be right if I didn’t try to return the favor.” Throughout the discourse, Chai had kept quiet and little feedback by way of facial cues. It was difficult to understand how somepony so subdued could be related to somepony as animated as Merry. Though she didn’t want to admit it, Pinkie found the mare’s manner rather disquieting, and it wasn’t until a faint hint of a smile lit the mare’s features that Pinkie found herself at ease.

“Please, pardon my lack of manners,” Chai said, chuckling quietly. “These last few days have been trying. I’m grateful for your offer, but I’m afraid I have little to give you in return.”

“Sometimes it’s the littlest that means the most. At least, that’s what Rarity told me.” The shift in Chai’s expression from passive to interested was instantaneous at the mention of Rarity’s name, and it brought Pinkie a bittersweet smile as she pulled a small envelope out of her saddlebag and gave it to Chai. “She told me all about how you helped her when I went to see her yesterday,” Pinkie explained as the mare stared down at the letter. “Go ahead, open it.”

Nodding, the mare did as she was bidden. Her hoof slowly rose to cover her mouth as she opened the envelope withdrew a heartfelt apology and a note worth a generous amount of bits as replacement for the mirror that Rarity had shattered in her anger. Chai had been despairing how they would even make it through the coming month with Merry’s hospital bills looming, their cart beyond use, and their reserves of spare herbs for tea all but depleted after a bitterly cold winter. The money that she had just received wouldn’t put them completely in the clear, but it gave them a fighting chance, and that was more than enough for her.

“I’m glad to hear that Rarity is doing alright,” Chai murmured, stowing the letter back in the envelope before looking back at Pinkie with glassy eyes. “Pinkie, our problems aren’t yours to bear. We are but strangers, and you could have left to wherever you were going without a thought about what you had seen. And yet, you’ve come, bringing tidings from a dear friend and offering aid. From the bottom of my heart... thank you.” A tapping sound drew their attention yet again to the stallion desperate for a distraction.

“Minty has never been able to sit still for long,” Chai said with a fond laugh, wiping a hoof across her eyes. “The doctor said that he was healing well, but that he should stay off his hooves for at least a few days. He’s been getting a little stir-crazy, and I’m sure he would be grateful for some company.”

“Hehe! I’ll bet,” Pinkie chortled, making a silly face at the stallion before turning towards the colt that had been standing patiently by. “Rumble, do whatever you can to help Chai, alright?”

“You got it!”

Encouraged by a nod from Chai, Pinkie hopped her way through the makeshift path and let herself inside the house. Aside from the mugs strewn over just about every surface, the interior was quite tidy and simply decorated. The muted nature of the interior only served to make the excitement welling within all the more potent as she cantered down the hall, following the rhythmic squeal of bed springs that squeaked and groaned from the grown stallion bouncing in anticipation of her entrance. Stealthily sneaking open the door just a hair, Pinkie found that peculiar warmth welling in her chest yet again as she spied Merry perched to pounce, and she had barely stepped over the threshold before he had bounded over and buried his muzzle in her mane.

“Eheh, aren’t you supposed to be taking it easy?” Pinkie asked, doing her darndest not to blush as his cheek brushed against hers.

“Mmhmm~” Merry murmured happily, elated that he could finally see her again. The scent of her flouncy mane was every bit as intoxicating as he had remembered, and he burrowed a little deeper as a contentment escaped as an airy sigh. He quickly realized that he had gotten ahead of himself in his excitement, though, and he found himself similarly rosen cheeked as he hastily withdrew his snout and found the mare’s muzzle done up in a wonderfully bashful blush.

“Manners! Manners, manners, forgot my manners, sorry! I’m sorry, it’s just your mane, I can’t- it-y-you know...” There was a brief pause as they both looked away, leaving his stammered apology to taper off. “It’s… really great to see you again, Pinkie,” he said, grinning weakly. “I’ve kiiinda missed you.”

“Thought-about-you-every-now-and-then, kinda?” There was understanding in her playful reply, and he felt his nervousness melt away as he turned back to find the mare beaming back.

“Heh, more like couldn’t-get-you-out-of-my-head-if-I-tried, kinda,” he chuckled shamelessly, sharing a laugh as he motioned the mare to follow. Careful to leave the door cracked open for the sake of her father, Pinkie bounded inside as Merry reluctantly hobbled over and eased himself back into bed. “How have you been?”

“A whole heaping lot better, thanks to you!” Pinkie quipped, leaping over and plopping down by the bedside. “Remember the friends I told you about, the ones back in Ponyville?” He nodded, listening intently. “Well, that photo album you brought me was what gave me the mojo to go back to Ponyville and fix things with all of them. I ran away to Dodge because I didn’t know what to do, and without your help, I wouldn’t have been able to do it. It wasn’t easy, and it wasn’t fun,” she conceded, “but I’m glad that I went back. I really owe you one, Merry.”

“Actually, you owe me liiike a million,” he teased. “I’d like my bill paid in grins, giggles, chortles, and snickers.”

“What?!” Pinkie exclaimed. “You mean to tell me you don’t accept smirks, smiles, titters or guffaws?”

“Of course I do!” he countered with a challenging smirk, “those are worth double. Sounds like somepony is quite the high roller.”

“You don’t know the half of it! I could roll a twenty with only half a deck!” she declared triumphantly, giggling as Merry’s brow furrowed with confusion. “You don’t throw as many parties as I have without learning a few tricks. Don’t worry,” she reassured him with a pat of her hoof, “it’ll come with practice.”

There was something about Merry’s vague amusement that Pinkie found unexpectedly exhilarating. Offering no rebuttal, he calmly eased himself onto the floor beside her and shambled over towards his closet with his tail swishing as he went. With flagrant nonchalance, he casually opened his closet to reveal an unbelievable collection of board games rivaled only by that of her own. From common titles like Scramble to the more fringe, “nerdy” rpg games like Diadem, everything she could ever want was right there beside the stallion that had casually grabbed hold of Pinkie’s attention in a way that she hadn’t imagined he could.

“Board games, huh?” Merry mused aloud, making his selection before turning back to his breathless guest. She had started blushing again, which didn’t make much sense to Merry, but it only made her look even more cute than normal. “I don’t suppose you’d care to get in a little practice, would you?”

For perhaps the first time in her life, Pinkie found herself regretting that she hadn’t spent more time thinking about romance. If she had, then chances are she would have been able to explain why the sight of Merry holding a board game was so attractive to her. It made her every thought tickle with static, and had somehow set the temperature control for her everything to “oven.” Appearance had been a non factor in her dealings with others, as the outside never changed what was needed on the inside, but her entire perception of who Merry was had been radically changed, and by something so seemingly insignificant. She was nervous, she was excited, and there was nothing Pinkie would have enjoyed more sharing a laugh with the one who had helped her remember how.

Author's Notes:

Two things of note. First, Sanguine Shroud's palette and design haven't been finalized, and are prone to adjustment. Secondly, Cloudy Hues is going to be fine. Mostly.

Together

“Respect is earned, honor is deferred, and any decent pony should have both.” It was something that Pinkie had heard her father say once or twice growing up but never given much thought to until that afternoon. More often than not, Pinkie let others win when she played games to guarantee that they had a good time, but she quickly found that holding back led to swift defeat at Merry’s hooves. Friendly competition had led them through a gauntlet of games already, and despite playing no holds barred after getting absolutely dominated at their first game of Scramble, every match thereafter was a gamble. There had been an inordinate amount of draws, though overall they had basically traded one for one, but the numbers didn’t really matter much. Merry’s prowess in the ways of the game was worthy of respect, and he had been honorable in both victory and defeat. The shadows had lengthened under the canopy of the evening sky while they relaxed, chatting over a casual game of Oligopoly after having given up on Tic-Tac-Toe after nine cat’s games in a row.

“Yanno, you’re pretty good at these games, Merry,” Pinkie piped up, taking her roll and moving her game piece accordingly. “It’s really neat to meet somepony else that really enjoys them as much as I do.”

“I used to play them a lot with my family,” he explained, watching carefully to make sure Pinkie didn’t land on his property. “My father worked a lot when we were growing up, and was typically too tired to do much of anything on the weekdays. It made the times that we could all sit together and relax even more special, so they have kind of a special place in my heart.”

“That’s really neat,” Pinkie said, pausing long enough to stick out her tongue at the fine card she drew. “You’ve got an amazing selection in there. I think there’s even a game or two that I haven’t seen before! Did you play all those complicated ones with your family?”

“Nah, I don’t think we would have been able to get Chai on board,” he chuckled, shaking his head as he swiped the dice. “I didn’t get into the role playing stuff until later on. I grew up in Baltimare, and there was a gaming group that I got into when I was young. We started off playing simple stuff, but by the time we were teenagers, they wanted something with a little more action.” He took his turn and pulled a face at Pinkie, having landed on her property. It was late enough in the game that all it took was one or two poor rolls to end it.

“I haven’t really played any of those RPG games myself. Are they fun?” Pinkie asked, accepting the gratuitous stack of funny money.

“They’re loads of fun!” Merry said, brightening at the thought. “They can take a long time, but they’re more about the journey than the destination. Unfortunately, they aren’t for everyone,” he recognized with a rueful grin, watching as Pinkie deftly dodged the veritable minefield of penalty spaces. “I haven’t had the chance to play one in ages. I know I could probably badger Chai into playing, but what’s the point if she’s not having fun?”

“I know what you mean,” Pinkie sympathized. “Are there no ponies around here that would want to play?”

“Play a game that ain’t Poker?” he asked with a comically bad drawl. “Have you even met the ponies around here?”

“Hehe, good point.” It was true that she couldn’t really imagine any of the ponies around Dodge being all that interested in committing several hours to raiding fictional crypts. Her smile grew sympathetic as he fumbled the dice yet again and landed on one of her spaces, not only because she was on the verge of winning, but because she could tell by the way he talked about it that he missed being able to play with the ponies back home. “Well, we probably don’t have time tonight, but I wouldn’t mind giving it a try some other time,” Pinkie offered enthusiastically.

“Really?” he replied, brightening on the spot.

“Absolutely!” she laughed, swiping the cash from his outstretched hooves. “Learning a new game sounds funtastic! That, and I know that I’d be going crazy if I couldn’t leave the house,” she added, looking over at the cast on his hind leg. “How much longer do you have to wear that thing?”

“Bout a week and a half,” he pouted as his ever active tail dropped lifeless to the floor. “I normally heal up pretty quick, and it’s not like I can’t walk, buuut I have this eerie feeling that Chai is going to keep me bedridden for at least a few days. Ugh! Being cooped up is just the worst. It’s like being put in a cage.” There was a somber shift in his tone as he glanced away. “There’s nothing fun about that...”

“Gosh, I’ll bet…” Pinkie couldn’t put her hoof down on why, but there was something about Merry’s tone that made her wonder if he hadn’t experienced said entrapment before. An uncomfortable quiet fell over the two as she took her turn and passed the dice over to Merry. Whatever mood of merriment might have remained was nixed by an ill-fated die roll, and Pinkie found herself growing even more concerned as Merry reluctantly nudged his piece across the board and straight into jail.

“Sheesh, I think he hates being cooped up more than I do,” she thought to herself, having no doubt that her opponent’s demeanor had nothing to do with the game. “There’s gotta be something I can say to cheer him up…” Scooching over so that she was seated by his side, Pinkie pondered for a moment what she should say before cracking as encouraging a smile as her muzzle could manage. “Don’t worry, Merry. If being sentenced to boring ol’ bed is like being behind bars, well…” His eyes followed her hoof as she reached out, taking hold of her game piece and hopping it one space at a time until she had joined him in his fictional incarceration. “You can just call me your inmate,” she promised with a wink. “We’ll beat this cabin fever together.”

“Pinkie, that… you-” Merry stammered softly, beholding the mare with bewildered surprise. It was, perhaps, one of the most comforting things Merry had heard, and he didn’t quite know what to say. Tongue tied and quite frankly feeling more than a touch smitten, Merry made no effort to stay his hooves as they eagerly snatched Pinkie into a firm embrace, nor did the mare seem to mind. “You reeeally turned my frown upside down just now. Thank you…”

“Eheh, you’re welcome,” Pinkie replied with a bashful laugh. She found it confusing how much different Merry’s hugs felt when compared to other ponies, particularly on account of her increasing enjoyment of them and the rise of temperature that followed after. Not only that, but there was something about the way he was looking at her as she pulled away that made her heart do funny, funny things. Good funny, granted, but as they held each other’s gaze, Pinkie was forced again to wonder what the extent of her feelings were; normal friendship didn’t fill her cheeks with cinnamon. That was a subject for another time, though, as their moment was interrupted by a scattered bundle of feathers that crashed into the door, tumbled across the floor, and settled with a thud against the nightstand by the bed.

“Awww, Rumble, you went an’ messed it up!” Applebloom exclaimed, trotting in. “Now they ain’t gonna kiss!”

“Kiss?!” both of the older, theoretically more mature ponies chorused together.

“Uh huh?” Rumble confirmed, collecting himself and standing slowly on account of the spinning room.

“Are you kidding? We weren’t gonna k-k-kiss!” Pinkie Pie said frantically. “My father would do such a number on Merry’s face that he’d do an irrational number instead! Oooh, I don’t even want to think about that!”

“We just thought-”

“Irrational number!” Pinkie Pie shrieked, her chest heaving. “I won’t have anypony messing up Merry’s muzzle, so no more talk about the tongue tango, got it?!”

“Uh huh,” Applebloom replied with a nervous gulp.

“Good,” Pinkie chortled, instantly reverting out of crisis mode, “there’ll be plenty of time for that later.”

“Do you mean-”

“Aaanyways,” Pinkie interjected with a nervous chuckle, looking over to find Chai observing from the doorway. “How’d things go on your end?”

“They went very well,” Chai said, nodding her thanks as she stepped forward. “Your friend Applebloom was able to work wonders with my tea cart, and with Rumble’s help we were able to clear away most of the sand.”

“It ain’t a perfect job, but ah’m pretty sure it’s functional,” Applebloom elaborated. “It’ll get you by fer now, though, an’ ah’m sure it’d be alright if I came back another day t’ do some more maintenance.”

“It’s in far better shape than it was,” Chai reminded the filly, “and your fee was more than reasonable.”

“Shucks, here ah was bein’ all worried you’d think ah was scammin’ you,” the teenage filly replied, grateful for the praise.

“Not at all,” she murmured, shaking her head as she turned back towards Pinkie. “And you, perhaps, I owe the greatest thanks. Truly, thank you for coming here tonight. I do not have much, but I would very much like it if you all allowed me to treat you to a cup of tea before you go.”

“What kind of tea?” Applebloom asked.

“Almost any kind you can imagine, made from scratch,” Chai responded warmly.

“I’ll have some chai!” The mare looked over at Rumble and grinned.

“My, aren’t you the little charmer…” She had to stifle a laugh as Applebloom shot her coltfriend a sour look. “Come along, everyone. I’ll not send my guests away without proper thanks.” While most everypony filed out, Pinkie drew up beside Merry and offered her support.

“Thanks, Pinkie,” he said, grinning as he pressed up close to keep himself stable. “You’re in for a real treat. My sister makes the best tea in Equestria.” Together, the two made their way out to the living room where everypony else had all taken their seats. The only seat left was a rather plush and ironically named love seat, which had either been designed with one and a half ponies in mind or was meant to forcibly induce cuddling. While the latter didn’t happen, exactly, they did almost accidentally connect their muzzles due to their proximity to one another. Other than that embarrassing little incident, though, they kept to themselves, sipping on their tea and just enjoying their time together. Pinkie would have tarried longer, but she would already be late for supper, and she knew her father wouldn’t be terribly pleased that she would be showing up after dark by herself. After gleaning every last drop of tea from her cup, she reluctantly laid it aside and stood.

“Well, Applebloom, Rumble, it’s getting pretty late.”

“Awww, shucks, that means it’s time fer us to go, doesn’t it?”

“I’m afraid so,” Pinkie said ruefully. “Thanks for having us over, Chai. The tea was delicious, and I think it’s safe to say that we all had a pretty great time.”

“Uh huh!”

“You’re all more than welcome,” came the mare’s gracious reply, “though I feel that you’ve given me quite a bit more than I’ve been able to give you in return.”

“Silly Vanille!” Pinkie chortled. “It’s not a contest! Not this time, anyways. Rumble, why don’t you help Applebloom load her things into the cart? I’ll be out in a few minutes.”

“Okay! Bye, Miss Chai! See ya, Merry!”

“Yeah, goodbye! Thanks again!” Knowing they’d get a proper scolding from their siblings if they missed the train, the two younger ponies scampered out the door to gather their things while Pinkie helped Merry back to his room.

“Being a three-legged pony doesn’t seem like very much fun when it isn’t a game, huh?” she said, watching him wince as he eased himself into bed.

“Not really,” he chuckled with a carefree shrug. “Being cooped up is lame, but it’s not so bad when you have company. You made today really fun.”

“It’s what I do,” Pinkie said casually as she flashed Merry a wink. “Fun is serious business, and I seriously had fun today. Gummy had fun, too!”

“Gummy?” Merry repeated quietly.

“Oh! Right, sorry, he gets nervous around strangers,” Pinkie explained as her eyes drifted up towards her mane. “Gummy? C’mon on out! Don’t be shy, it’s okay.” Merry watched with growing perplexion as her mane began to stir, and his expression blanked entirely as a green snout and two purple reptilian eyes poked out from amongst the curls. They stared at each other for a moment before the unsure alligator withdrew again. “Hehe, he’s been a little clingy since I left. Give him time, he’ll warm up to you, I’m sure.”

“I’ll look forward to it,” Merry said, breaking into a grin again. “See you later, alligator.”

“Hey! What about me?” Pinkie laughed, prodding him playfully as Gummy poked his eyes up.

“Well, I guess you can bring her along, too,” he said, feigning resignation while Gummy blinked his amusement. They would have bantered long into the night were it not for the ponies that had been entrusted to Pinkie’s care, so with a few more parting words of thanks and laughter, she reluctantly took her leave. Waving goodbye to Chai, Pinkie and her cohorts made their way to central station with just a few minutes to spare. She stuck around to make sure that the train got off without a hitch, and as the lumbering locomotive chugged off into the night, she started for home with a yawn.

“What an absolutely jam-packed day,” she thought to herself, humming as she cantered along. It wasn’t like her to be tired so early in the evening, but her day had started well before sunrise for the final preparations for the big party. Nearly every pony had been greeted by her personally that day on top of her acting as a judge for some of the competitions and overseeing of the various activities. She was wearied, yes, but she was smiling, because all of her energy had been well spent, and she could still see the smiling faces of the townsfolk, right there alongside her close friends.

“I can hardly wait to climb in bed,” she mused, eager to crash. “I’m more beat than a poet with a bad case of stage fright.” Being on the farm meant working in the morning, just like everypony else, and she was going to need some rest. She had intended to do some brainstorming on Merry’s bizarre behavior, the parts not related to acting like a dog, but her mind couldn’t seem to focus, and she didn’t really think about much of anything her entire walk home. She did have just enough excitement left to manage an eager smile as her father opened the door, but that soon faded. She may have been tired, but it was evident that she had nothing on her father.

“Daddy?” she said hesitantly, looking at the bags under his eyes. “I… is something wrong?”

“... Come on inside, Pinkamena,” he replied, sounding every bit as drained as he looked. “We need to have a little talk.” Offering a somber nod, Pinkie followed her father over to the table and took a seat, watching her father intently as he did the same. Insomnia wasn’t often a problem for anypony on the farm, given how grueling their daily routine could be, but the deep bags under the older stallion’s eyes told a tale of sleepless nights spent in worry. Igneous remained quiet as he gathered his thoughts before finally asking, “Did something happen between you and Limestone before you left?”

“Not that I can think of,” Pinkie answered, thinking back to her last night in Dodge. “She seemed a little snappy at dinner, but other than that...”

“Snappy doesn’t even begin to cover it, Pinkamena,” he recounted, rubbing the spot between his eyes with a hoof. “We all know that Limestone has a temper, but she’s been out of control since the night you left. She spends all her time in the fields, which I wouldn’t mind if it weren’t for the fact that she won’t let Marble anywhere near her, and I’ve never had her talk back to me and your ma the way she has these last few days.”

“This doesn’t make any sense,” Pinkie said worriedly, wracking her brain to try and remember something, anything that might point to why Marble would be acting out. “I mean, yeah, I had been kind of a rain cloud the last week or two, but she had been really nice through all of that. Why would she get upset right when I got better?”

“That’s what I was hoping to find out, but it sounds like you’re in the dark as much as I am,” he replied with a long and heavy sigh. “I’ve tried to get her to open up, but most all I ever get is ‘I don’t want to talk about it,’ and being cross only makes her worse.”

“Let me-”

“Don’t.” Pinkie hadn’t even made it out of her seat before her father’s stern command froze her in place. “Don’t try talking to her tonight, not this late,” Igneous asked with a pleading look. “Marble has really been taking this whole thing hard. I don’t want her waking up to the sound of her sister’s fighting.” Her father’s request was difficult for Pinkie to accept, though as she opened her mouth to protest, she instead nodded her consent.

“... Okay, I won’t,” Pinkie agreed, “but tomorrow I want to try to cheer her up so we can all laugh together again.”

“That’s what I was hoping to hear,” her father said as walked over and pulled his daughter close. “It’s good to have you back, Pinkamena. Welcome home.”

“It’s not exactly the welcome I was expecting, but thanks, daddy,” she offered with a rueful chuckle. “Now, get yourself to bed,” she commanded her father playfully. “You look like you haven’t slept a wink.”

“Now, don’t you start too,” he said, laughing quietly. “My hair is already graying as it is.”

Parting ways, Pinkie bid her father goodnight and made her way up the stairs to her room, casting a forlorn glance at Limestone’s door as she passed. Sealing herself safely in her bedroom, Pinkie gratefully flopped into bed with yet another case of mental overload. There had already been plenty of things that she knew she needed to think about, and the list just seemed to keep growing by the day.

“I think I’m starting to understand why Twilight loves her checklists so much,” Pinkie thought to herself with a yawn. “Things are way more complicated when you think about more than having fun. It’s not all bad, though,” she conceded with a tired smile. Though there had been many clouds to block out the light, being there to help Rainbow Dash had really caused something to shift in Pinkie. It had brought her to the realization that there were serious matters where laughter wasn’t the best option, but that didn’t diminish the value of her encouragement, and bringing comfort to the hurting had proven to be a different kind of fun.

“And then there’s Merry…” She laughed quietly to herself as Gummy wriggled out of her mane and curled up on the pillow beside her with little strands of her pink mane still clinging to his scaly back. “He’s a different kind of fun, too.” Too fatigued to inhibit her thoughts, the young mare offered no resistance to the faint heat brushing her cheeks as she recalled his peculiar quirks with fondness, particularly the moment when he had licked her.

“I know it’s strange, but it made me really happy,” she thought with a bashful smile while her conscoiusness began to drift away. “I wonder how he got that way, though? I bet it’s something nice… something nice, just like… him.”

“Oh boy! Oh, boy oh boy oh boy!” Youthful exuberance propelled a young colt forward as fast as his legs could carry him down the crowded sidewalks of downtown Baltimare. Weaving between the traffic and leaping over any obstacles that would stand between him and his destination, Merry barreled onwards before finally skidding to a halt outside of the local pet shelter. Allowing himself only the briefest of respites, and even then not sitting completely still, he trotted slow circles around the clinic’s lawn just long enough for his ragged breaths to stabilize before darting towards the entrance. His hooves, tired as they were, couldn’t keep up with his enthusiasm, and with a tremendous crash the colt demonstrated perfectly why it pays to grip the handle before trying to enter through a door: it messes up your face if you don’t.

“Goodness gracious, what in Equestria was- Merry! Are you alright?” Feather asked worriedly, finding the colt splayed out in a daze upon the doorstep.

“Ouch, that smaaarts,” the colt groaned, coddling his aching snout with both hooves.

“For the last time, this isn’t a giant doggie door,” Feather laughed, shaking her head. It wasn’t the first time the colt had let excitement get the better of him, and despite what she had just said, she knew it probably wouldn’t be the last. “Come on inside so we can get some ice on that muzzle of yours,” the kindly mare said, helping the colt upright and leading him inside. Pouting about the delay but knowing that he probably shouldn’t return home with a swollen snout, Merry shuffled inside and followed Feather towards the makeshift lunch room.

“So, what’s got you all excited this time?” the mare asked, pulling some ice from the freezer and wrapping it in a clean cloth. “Is something special going on today?”

“Something super special!” he quipped, climbing onto the only cushioned seat and laying back, being familiar with the proper treatment of doorface. That didn’t make it any more enjoyable, though, and he winced a little as the cool of the ice challenged the heat of his throbbing nose.

“Oh? And what is this something special?” Feather inquired with a curious grin.

“I got a present for Maria!” he declared, beaming back.

“Did you? I’m sure she’ll love it,” she said sweetly. “It seems like the two of you have been getting along lately.” Whether by some latent talent or sheer relentlessness of effort, the feral canine that everypony, herself included, had written off as a lost cause had begun showing sparks of life around the young colt seated across from her. Since the first day that he had met Maria, he hadn’t missed a single one of his appointed visits, and Feather had lost track of the hours that Merry spent in the enclosed, claustrophobic confines of the kennel, but as of recently, it was rare to hear the predatory growl of the dog kept within. She had been sure that he would have lost interest, given up after the first few weeks of seemingly little change, but his perseverance had proven her wrong, and she couldn’t have been happier about it.

“She’s still needs her space sometimes, but that’s okay. My sister needs space sometimes, too,” he snickered. “Her coat’s been getting better since we switched her food, and she’s been eating more, too! She’s actually really soft when she lets me pet her, and she has the cutest little bark when she’s not being grouchy.” He paused for a moment and lifted the icepack as the cold became too strong before looking over to Feather with a pleading look. “How long do I have to do this?”

“Doctors recommend fifteen minutes.” Merry groaned. “Oh, don’t be so dramatic,” Feather giggled, ruffling the colt’s mane as she stood. “You seem to heal up pretty quickly, so why don’t you give it ten and we’ll call it even?”

“‘Kay~!” There wasn’t much to keep him entertained as the mare went back to work. Watching the clock didn’t seem to speed things along either, as per usual, so he made a game of imagining the throbbing along the ridge of his nose as the beats of a drum, and soon he was tapping his hooves to the beat. Mistakenly waiting the whole fifteen minutes after getting caught up in the concert, he tossed the ice pack in the sink, picked up his saddlebag, and cantered towards the back of the clinic. Carefully cracking open the door to the solitary kennel away from the rest, Merry poked his head in regarded Maria with a delighted grin.

“Hey there, Maria! Can I come in?” She responded with what would have been an indifferent snort, were it not for the fact that he could see her tail wagging behind her. It wasn’t constant yet, and not nearly as lively as the average dog, but every swish made the long hours he had spent listening to growling all worth it.

“Alrighty, don’t mind if I do!” Making sure the door behind him was closed, Merry pranced inside and undid the latch on Maria’s cage. “You can come out if you want to,” he encouraged her, “but it’s up to you.” Humming to himself as he let Maria make her choice, he moved a few steps back and set down his bag. After some digging, he withdrew a somewhat mangled sandwich and began munching away. The anticipation earlier in the day had diminished his appetite, and it was coming back with a vengeance. He had already wolfed down half of his meal before he noticed that Maria was in one of her more friendly moods, and had taken a seat right in front of him. He followed her eyes to the sandwich in his hooves and grinned.

“You want some?” he asked, tearing off a smallish chunk and holding it out. Sniffing and prodding at it with her nose, Maria quickly decided that it smelled better than what she was used to eating and carefully lapped up the morsel. “Hehe, tasty, right? Here, have another!” Merry would have liked to keep his food for himself, but seeing Maria enjoy herself was more important. Besides, feeling the tickle of her nose and the wetness of her tongue was a gift in and of itself, and left Merry feeling like he was the one getting the treat, because every touch was a victory to be cherished.

“You’re a good girl,” he murmured fondly, carefully reaching over and petting her gently. “And that’s why I got you something special!” Maria watched her colt with mounting interest as he sifted around his sack, but began to back away as he pulled out something she the exact opposite of special.

“I got a collar made for you!” he declared. “It’s got your name on the tag here, see? ‘Maria,’ it says it right here.” Maria looked anything other than impressed, and she gave a low growl as he held it out. “You don’t… like it?” She gave another short growl as she took another step back. “Oh…” Somewhere in the back of his mind, he felt like he could have guessed she’d feel that way, but he had been too excited to pay the nagging doubt any heed.

“Feather said that they’d let me take you outside if you wore a collar and leash,” he explained quietly, feeling deflated. “I thought it might be nice for you to be able to run around again, but I won’t make you wear it if you don’t want to. It’s really not so bad, though.” Bringing the collar up to his own neck, he set it to an appropriate setting and strapped it on. “See?” Though she hadn’t moved any closer, Maria had stopped growling and was watching the colt carefully as he adopted a pensive look. Shortly after, he withdrew a brand new leash from his saddlebag, clipped it onto the collar, and looked himself over.

“Still not convinced, huh?” he asked ruefully, looking over at Maria. Bafflement had never been so easily seen upon an animals face, and she cocked her head to one side at the stallion’s curious display that was only about to get more curious. “Maybe she doesn’t know what it’s for?” he reasoned in his head. “Well, if that’s the case, then I’ll just have to show her!”

There wasn’t a shred of shame in the colt’s heart as he bowed his head, arched his back, and left Maria confounded as he offered a short bark. Snatching up the leash in his mouth, he bounded a short ways before again adopting the playful canine stance, with his tail waving wildly and a grin stamped upon his muzzle. Neither growl nor bark came from Maria as she watched him roll over one way, then back the other. Wriggling over on his belly with his hind legs dragging behind him, Merry dropped the leash handled from his mouth and nudged it forward with his nose.

“Bark?” he asked, pawing at the leash. When Maria didn’t respond, he adopted as pitiful a whine as he could imitate, pouting as he nudged some of the slack towards her. Seconds stretched into minutes as nothing happened, and he let his chin rest on the concrete floor as his ears drooped and his eyes closed. “I guess it was too much to hope for,” he thought with a sigh. “I only wanted her to have a chance to see something outside of this crummy ol’ shed…”

Moping wasn’t something the colt often indulged, but having his good intentions turned on their head left him feeling pretty drained. With the exhilaration snatched from his sails, the dull ache that had been mostly forgotten filtered to the surface, prompting him to cover the tender bruise with his hooves, groaning quietly. It was perhaps the first time the colt had ever shown any real kind of sadness around his pet, and knew that it had been noticed as Maria gave an inquisitive bark.

“Sorry, Maria…” he murmured tiredly. “I’ll be fine. Just give me a few minutes, ‘kay?” Strangely, Maria didn’t think it was okay. He listened with passive interest as the dog padded over to him, though he suspected that she was just returning to her cage, as she usually did when she decided that she had been social enough for the day. Resigning himself to an unfortunately short visit on account of his unwitting blunder, he screwed his eyes shut tighter and fought back the tears that threatened to spill out. Had they been open, they would have seen something different in Maria, something powerful enough that she would lay aside her misgivings to repay just a small portion of the debt that she owed.

“Huh? What is she…” Encouraged by the pup’s prodding nose, his hooves fell away as he looked up and found the pup watching him with eyes full of concern. “M-Maria?” They stared at one another for a few moments before Maria leaned down and gently lapped at his bruise, answering all of the questions he hadn’t found the words to ask. Her tongue was scratchy and her breath was nothing short of atrocious, but the warmth of her lick was as comforting as his mother’s embrace, and it brought a different kind of tears to his eyes as he realized what he had to do. He had been trying to show kindness as a pony to a pet, but what Maria needed to feel comfortable wasn’t a pony, but another dog, and if acting like a canine made her feel safe enough to dry his tears, then he didn’t mind being the one in the collar.

“You’re such a good girl,” he whispered, grinning through the tears. “And I’ll be your good boy, okay? We can be great together.”

“Together…” Tender was the smile that lit a young stallion’s muzzle as he looked up at the stars with a tattered leash held to his chest. “Do you think that we could be great together... Pinkie?”

Old and New

Pinkie wasn’t positive on the technicalities of the term “irony,” but what she did know made the word seem unfortunately applicable the following morning. Her father wasn’t one to exaggerate, there wasn’t any humor to be found in playing up her sister’s foul mood, and if anything, he hadn’t played it up enough. The last time she had been home, she had been the stubborn mess of sullen indifference, and her sisters had been tasked with responsibility of trying, and failing, to cheer her up. Now it was Limestone with the milk-curdling scowl of perpetual wrath, and Pinkie could hardly believe that her sisters had put up with her as long as they had. She had hardly coaxed anything from her sister, and the few exchanges that had occurred were anything but friendly, making the conclusion of breakfast and the start of her day in the rock fields a blessing rather than a chore. She needed time to think, and repetitive manual labor presented a golden opportunity to do so.

“Or a gray one,” she said to herself, cantering to a slow halt and slipping out of the cart’s harness. “Alright, atteeeen-shun! Look alive, everypebble, we have work to do!” Snapping to attention at the sound of her commanding voice, the myriad of rocks strewn across the field promptly sat idle, awaiting collection while Pinkie Pie drilled them over the Limestone dilemma. Talking to rocks had been a habit of hers since she was young. She had never been so lacking in awareness as not to recognize that it was “weird,” but it helped her clear her head and organize her scattered thoughts.

“Here’s the situation!” she belted out, beginning to separate and gather all of the stones that were the proper size to make cobblestone. “As some of you may or may not have heard, my sister Limestone seems to have caught a terrible case of the grumps. What we need to figure out is how she got infected so I can devise the perfect vaccine. Any suggestions? How about you?” Hefting a somewhat rounded chunk of granite, she held to her ears in silence for a moment before shaking her head.

“No such luck, I’m afraid. If it were as simple as throwing a party, then I’d already be gathering the streamers,” Pinkie explained officiously before tossing the crestfallen cadet over her shoulder into the cart. “Anyone else? How about you, gabbro?” Silence. “Well, you do have a point,” she conceded, “but I don’t think it will be that simple. I mean, have you tried talking to my sister lately?” No sooner had she tossed the stone into the cart with the other than she snapped her head to the right, bearing down on the unfortunate diorite with her finest sergeant glare.

“Would you like to repeat that, cadet?!” she practically bellowed, snatching up the rock and holding it at eye level. “This is my sister we’re talking about, here! If I hear one more word out of you that doesn’t pertain to making her feel better, so help me, I will send you to the tumbler! Now,” she continued, her voice dropping to a dangerous calm, “would anyone else like to call my sister names? Hm?” Silence. “Hmph. That’s what I thought.”

Confident that she had left the offender thoroughly cowed, she added it to her slowly growing collection and continued loading the cart. Knowing in the back of her head that she had several loads to gather and unload that morning, her chatter gradually petered out as she got into the swing of work. The rocks didn’t seem to have anything particularly helpful to offer that morning, and after an hour or two she resigned herself to go about her chores quietly. Her hooves moved of their own accord while her mind stayed far removed from her allotted task, and before long she had heaped the cart high, full of prime candidates for becoming cobblestone.

“Huh, some good you are,” she muttered, slipping into the harness. “What a disgraceful lot.” Planting her hooves and straining against the yoke, Pinkie got the cart rolling and made her way through the fields towards the river that bordered their property. Flowing from the Foal Mountain range north of the Ridge, the river was relatively calm when it first entered the Pie family territory, but as it winded down around the eastern edge, the stream became a frothing rapid that led to a waterfall. Making cobblestone was as simple as tossing some rocks into the river and letting the current smooth them out, eventually carrying them to the basin at the base of the falls. Carting them up the winding path hadn’t gotten any easier in the time that Pinkie had spent away from the rock farm, though, and she arrived panting for breath.

“And you call yourselves boulders? Hah!” she mocked them, coughing a little. “You’re nothing but pebbles, the whole lot of you! Making me do all the work…” Dragging the cart over to the bank, she made sure that it was stable and wouldn’t slip down the bank before easing herself out of the harness and throwing open the back. Hopping onto the mound, she deftly began herding the rocks out of the cart into several small piles. Dropping all of the rocks in one place would only succeed in damming the river, so Pinkie had to space them out manually, which took more time than most ponies would suspect. After finishing all but a small stack of stones, Pinkie gratefully sat down and let her hooves dangle in the stream.

“Mmm, this is nice…” There was something soothing about the sound of the stream. She and her sisters had come to that very spot many times to play when she was young, and she soon found herself swept away in nostalgia with a warm smile of simple contentment lighting her features. “I miss those days,” she thought to herself, giggling quietly as she splashed about. “Poor Marble was too frightened to get anywhere near the water for the longest time, while Limestone just about drowned herself looking for funny shaped rocks.” Her ears drooped as she recalled the bitterness in Limestone’s words earlier that morning, leaving her longing for the days when they had all been inseparable. Moving to Ponyville had filled her heart with laughter, and she couldn’t bring herself to regret that decision, but that didn’t stop her from feeling the pangs of guilt for leaving her family behind, and she was starting to understand that, perhaps, that was why she hadn’t ever worked up the strength to return.

“I had only had my cutie mark for a year before I moved. All four of us girls were really close, and then, just like that, I just… left.” It had been the only time that Pinkie had ever seen Maud moved to tears, and it made her stomach churn thinking of how it must have been for her other two sisters. “And then, for me to come back after all that time and push them away… why wouldn’t Limestone be upset? She probably should be, but then… why is this just coming out now?” Limestone had been more caring and compassionate than Pinkie felt she deserved, but the moment she had started feeling better, that was when the anger had started.

“Why is being a grown up so confusing?” she pouted, standing reluctantly. While she had learned a thing or two about herself, her primary question had yet to be answered. With the sun rising in the sky and the heat growing by the hour, she couldn’t afford to dawdle. Hooking herself up to the cart, she starting back down the winding trail towards the flats. She still didn’t have much of a plan, but she still had three more loads to work before she had to think about confronting Limestone. About halfway through unloading the third, however, was when she realized that a confrontation wasn’t what was needed.

“That’s it!” Pinkie exclaimed to the barren landscape, stopping cold. “Gosh, that’s so simple, though. Could that really work?” Succeed or fail, it was the best shot Pinkie felt she had at getting Limestone to open up, and she set about her work with renewed vigor. Panting and feeling pretty well spent by the time she spread the fourth load throughout the stream, she called upon her hidden reserves of vitality and made for home. Hurriedly stowing the cart in the stable, Pinkie bounded towards the farmhouse and nearly toppled over Marble, who had just been stepping out when Pinkie swung open the door.

“... My bad,” she murmured, her demure tone not much more than a whisper.

“No it isn’t, silly,” Pinkie assured her with an encouraging squeeze. “I know things have been scary, what with Limestone being all down in the dumps, but I think I might have just the thing to snap her out of it.”

“Oh… I hope it works,” she replied, though she sounded far from convinced. Pinkie couldn’t begrudge her that, though, given the circumstances.

“It’s totally going to work, but I’m going to need your help.”

“W-What?” Marble stammered, wriggling out of Pinkie’s embrace and shrinking away. “N-no, I don’t think th-that’s a good idea… Limestone doesn’t want me around, a-and I would just get in the way…”

“Well, that’s a load of nonsense if I ever heard one, and trust me,” she said with a wink, “I’m an expert at nonsense. It’ll be fine!”

“B-but I…”

“Marble, all I want is for you to be there.” Hesitant violet eyes peered out from behind the hair that fell across Marble’s face. “You don’t even have to talk if you don’t want to. I just want the three of us to be together again. I won’t make you come, but I’d really like it if you did.”

“... O-okay,” she said, nodding weakly. ”Where are we going?”

“The usual place.” Marble’s eyes grew wide.

“You mean…”

“Uh huh!” Pinkie beamed. “I want to have a little bit of time to talk to her alone, so could you meet us there in, like… twenty minutes?”

“Yeah, okay,” Marble replied, brightening at the thought. “I’ll be there.”

“Great! Thanks, Inkie. I’ll see ya there.” Parting ways, Pinkie made her way up the stairs and paused outside Limestone’s room, taking a deep breath to steel her nerves. She had gotten ahead of herself, she realized, asking Marble to join them when Pinkie couldn’t be sure there would even be a “them” to join. Prying Limestone out of her room would likely be like pulling teeth, a sentiment that was reinforced as Pinkie knocked on the door.

“No.” Flat, commanding, and thoroughly devoid of humor came the response from the other side.

“Limestone? It’s me, Pinkie.”

“Clearly.”

“May I come in?”

“Take a guess.”

“Yes?”

“No.”

“No?”

“Yes.”

“You said yes!” Before Limestone could utter any dire warnings of bodily harm should her personal space be invaded, Pinkie had bounded through the door and stood in the center of the room.

“... You have three seconds to explain why you’re here,” Limestone warned, fixing Pinkie in her death glare.

“Limestone why are you-”

“One.”

“Wait, you can’t expect me to-”

“Two.”

“Ijustwantedtogoplayinthestreamtogetherlikeweusedto!” They both stared at one another.

“... What did you say?” Limestone asked slowly.

“I said that the reason I came here was because I wanted you to come play with me down by the stream like we would always do when we were little,” Pinkie explained again, watching Limestone’s expression for any sign of softening. “We haven’t done played in the water in ages! I thought it would be fun to spend some time together, and-”

“Get… out.” Pinkie couldn’t recall ever hearing so much venom in two simple words. Limestone hadn’t spoken loudly, but Pinkie found her ears knocked flat by the overwhelming wrath laden in her sister’s voice, and she took a step back as Limestone’s countenance shifted from annoyed to seething.

“B-but I thought that maybe-”

“You thought wrong!” Limestone hissed, leaping off the bed and thrusting her face just a hair from Pinkie’s. “I don’t want anything to do with you. You’re an undependable nuisance that doesn’t care about anything but having fun, and you know what? That isn’t fun for anyone else.” Snorting unsympathetically as her sister’s eyes began to water, Limestone turned away and returned to her bed. “I’ve had enough of your selfishness, Pinkie,” she muttered, rolling onto her side, facing the wall. “Get out of my room.”

Devastated in the wake, Pinkie stood with her hooves rooted to the floor. She had thought that she could bear the brunt of whatever Limestone would throw at her, but she hadn’t expected to have been broadsided by the truth. The accusations hurt more than ever because Pinkie actually agreed that she had been selfish, and not just in regards to her family, but overall throughout her life. Her cheerful nature and eagerness to make others laugh had masked her flaws well enough that even her closest friends had overlooked them for the longest time, but she knew her sister’s weaknesses as well as they knew hers. It was the risk that came with closeness, and rather than try as she might have before to shrug off the blow, Pinkie lifted her head and sniffed back the tears.

“... You’re right,” she said quietly, fighting to keep her composure. “I haven’t been there for you like I should have, Limestone. I’ve made a lot of mistakes, and I’d take them all back if I could, but…” Choking back the tears was becoming too much, and she bit her lip as they spilled down her cheeks. Apart from the slight twitch of her ears, Limestone gave no sign that she was listening to anything that Pinkie had said, and her spirits sank further as she fought the feelings of abandonment that had already begun to twist her stomach into knots. “I’m trying to change,” she whispered, turning away and hiding her face. “I’ll be the sister you deserve one day, but I guess today just… isn’t that day.”

Quietly letting herself out, Pinkie closed the door behind her and shakily made her way down the steps. She could feel her parents’ sorrowful gaze watching her as left the house, but she couldn’t bring herself to look them in the eyes. They had been more than gracious with her over the years, welcoming her home at the drop of a hat, but she knew that they probably had missed her just as much as the sisters she had left behind. For the second time that day, she nearly collided with Marble, having been walking with her eyes locked on the ground.

“She’s not coming, is she?” Marble asked rhetorically, drawing up beside Pinkie as much for her comfort as her own. Pinkie could only shake her head. “I thought so…” Timidly reaching over, Marble wrapped her hoof around Pinkie’s shoulders in a side hug. “Um, Pinkie? We don’t have to go to the river today if you don’t want to…”

“Where else would I go?” she sniffled, scuffing at the dirt.

“U-um, well,” she stammered awkwardly. Forming friendships was difficult when you were nervous just being outside of the house, and that’s to say nothing of how flustering the idea of romance was for Marble. “I j-just thought that maybe you’d go and see that nice stallion you met…”

“Merry?” She had barely had time to think about him with everything else going on that day, but just the thought of spending time with him seemed to calm her her nerves. “That sounds like a lot of fun, but is fun what I should be thinking about right now?” she pondered, looking back towards the house. “I don’t think there’s anywhere else I’d rather be than with Merry right now, which is really super weird because I know any of my Ponyville friends would be there for me if I needed them, but I can’t just leave…” The choice was there, and it wasn’t an easy one to make, but she knew what she should do. Cramming down the yearning in her heart, she wiped her eyes on the back of her hoof and regarded Marble with a frail smile.

“You know, Marble? I would like to go see Merry,” she began, “but right here with you is where I belong. Come on, let’s go down to the river.”

“R-really?” Marble asked, looking lost. “But… but you looked really happy when I mentioned him just now.”

“That’s because he makes me really happy,” Pinkie replied with a quiet giggle, “but I’ve spent too much time away from you and Limestone, and that’s something that I wanna fix. C’mon, sis, let’s go have some fun.” Sometimes, it’s not always clear if the decision made was the right one, but Pinkie knew that she had chosen well as a wondrous smile overtook Marble’s hesitation. The mare all but threw herself at Pinkie in a manner completely uncharacteristic of such a shy mare, and it made the bearhug that much more meaningful.

After they extricated themselves, the pair eagerly made their way towards the river. Though Pinkie could still feel the quiet nag of desire in the back of her mind, she found it difficult to hear over the sound of Marble’s animated chatter. She wasn’t the kind of mare to talk up a storm, but apparently Marble wasn’t the only one that had missed having Pinkie around. It was almost as if some kind of dam had been holding back her excitement, and with one simple choice, Pinkie had let it free. Their laughter reached the river long before their hooves did, though their mirth fizzled a little as they reached the banks.

“Do you think that Limestone will come later, maybe?” Marble asked, looking earnestly at Pinkie Pie. “It just isn’t the same without her.”

“I hope so,” Pinkie said, staring out over the water. “But even if she doesn’t come back today, we can always ask again tomorrow, and the next day, and the next. You two didn’t give up on me, and we won’t give up on her.”

“Right!” Marble affirmed with conviction. “Oh, I know! Why don’t we-”

“-look for funny rocks?” they finished in unison.

“That’s a great idea, Inkie! But… are you sure you’ll be okay?” Pinkie asked, glancing between her and the river.

“I didn’t say that I’d be looking in the water,” Marble chuckled. “Yes, Pinkie, I’ll be okay. I’ll stick to the shallow places.”

“Hehe, okay! Let’s find something awesome for Blinkie!” Over the course of the next few hours, the mares let the current carry away their worries as they hunted and splashed. More than a few epic paddle battles ended in a stalemate and left them both drenched head to hoof in the cool mountain water. There were a couple of times that Marble lost her balance, but Pinkie was right there to keep her from getting spooked. Once they had gotten that out of their system, they began the task of scouring the river, and they both returned with treasures to be proud of. Pinkie had found a chunk of morion quartz that bore a striking resemblance to an owl, while Marble had returned with some marbled onyx that would work perfectly as a candle holder.

“Do you think she’ll like them?” Pinkie wondered aloud.

“I’m sure she will,” Marble said confidently, standing tall. “Limestone hates being mad. I don’t think she’ll be able to keep going like she has been for much longer.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right,” she agreed, glancing up at the sky. The blue had just barely started to show hints of gold, which would mean that they would have to be leaving soon. “Hey, Inkie? Wanna skip some stones?”

“Hehe, only if you don’t get upset when I win,” Marble countered, winking playfully. Win or not, Pinkie couldn’t have cared less; she just wanted to spend a little more time with her sister away, from everything that awaited them at home. Marble had always had a knack for finding the perfect skipping stones, and there weren’t very many times that Pinkie could remember that she had been bested, though Maud often tied her. That wasn’t to say that Pinkie didn’t have a few tricks of her own, however.

“One, two, three, four… seven!” Marble exclaimed. “Your turn, Pinkie. See if you can beat that!” Stepping boldly to the bank, Pinkie lugged over the most improbably hunk of rock to ever be skipped, spun around a few times, then hurled the small boulder across the surface. It skipped a whopping one time before dropping into the water with a tremendous splash and a resounding spelunk.

“Hah! Ten,” Pinkie said calmly as Marble stood with her mouth agape. Knowing that Marble would most certainly “beat” her “high score,” Pinkie swiveled to find her next challenge, though the one she found waiting for her wasn’t that of skipping an awkwardly shaped stone. Watching wordlessly, Limestone stood at a distance like a sentinel. Pinkie had no idea how long she had been there, and she couldn’t help the anxiety that welled in her chest as their eyes met.

“...nine, ten, eleven- twelve!” Marble cheered behind her. “Alright Pinkie, it’s your tu- oh…” Seeing her other sister, Marble immediately withdrew and fell quiet, hiding behind her mane. Pinkie felt like she could stand to do the same, and the tension hanging in the air made her want to turn tail and run, just like she had when she fled from Ponyville.

“No, I’m not going to be like that again,” she told herself, wrenching her thoughts back. “This is something that I need to confront. I don’t care if it isn’t fun…” There was a battle inside between the old mare she was and the one she was striving to become, and she was determined to move forward, one faltering step at a time. Stooping down to collect the gift that she had pulled from the river, Pinkie recalled the words of her friends and family to give her strength, and the courage of a stranger to meet the storm head on.

“I’m glad that you could make it,” Pinkie began, cantering slowly to a stop. “It hasn’t been the same without you. Here, I got you this.” Limestone’s expression remained unreadable as she stared at the small lump of morion in Pinkie’s hoof for an uncomfortably long period of time before she finally accepted it.

“... What is it?” she asked.

“Do you remember when we were little? Whenever we came here, you would always go diving for interesting rocks,” Pinkie explained, looking hopeful. “Marble and I decided that even if you didn’t come along, we wanted to bring you something back to cheer you up. Do you like it?”

“Do I…” Limestone started to say, but fell quiet as her gaze darkened. “What I remember is you leaving.” Her words stung, but there was something about Limestone’s manner that was different than earlier that afternoon, and Pinkie stood her ground as her sister stared hard at the bauble in her hooves. “One day, we were playing like normal, and the next, you’re shipping out to Ponyville. I told myself that it wouldn’t be for long, that we mattered enough for you to come back, but you didn’t!” Pinkie flinched as the mare threw the statuette onto the ground and drove her hoof into it with tears trickling down her chin.

“I waited and waited, and when you finally did come back, it was over a decade later!” she shouted, stamping her hoof down again. “I had thought that I had put the past behind me, that I had let go of how much I had missed you, but then you showed up and it all came rushing back. I was- I was happy,” she conceded, beginning to shake. “I wanted so badly to make you smile the way that you had taught me to do, but no matter what I tried, it was never good enough. You just kept pushing me away! And then… then…” Pinkie could feel the tremor in the sands as she brought her hoof down a third time before jerking her tear-stained muzzle upright and glaring back at Pinkie.

“Why him?” she cried, quaking uncontrollably as years of pent up emotions poured from her eyes. “Why weren’t we ever good enough? You came back, and we dropped everything to pick you up, but you refused our help! You pushed us back and let a complete stranger in instead!” Overcome by her own frustration, Limestone lifted a hoof to strike Pinkie, but she immediately lost her balance and fell heavily into Pinkie’s embrace as she caught the falling mare. “I wanted to be the one to to make you smile!” she sobbed, pounding Pinkie’s chest. “I wanted to be the one, because I thought that I… I thought… I thought that it would make you want to stay…”

“What can I say?” Pinkie wondered, tightening her hold as her sister buried her face into her chest and wept. She had never imagined that her presence had meant so much to her sister, especially when she had spent much of the time before finding her talent in a perpetual state of melancholy. “I didn’t know, but that doesn’t make it right. I didn’t mean to make her feel this way, but that doesn’t change the fact that I did, and ‘I’m sorry’ just isn’t enough…” It was then that the faintest of glints caught the corner of her eye, and she looked over with bleary eyes to find that her offering hadn’t been completely buried. Carefully reaching over, she dug around the morion owl until she could scoop it up.

“... Limestone, do you know why I came back home?” Pinkie murmured, peering down at the owl.

“N-no, I don’t,” she grit out. “How could I when you wouldn’t tell me?”

“It’s true that I pushed you and Marble away, but that was because you both mattered too much to me for me to feel right burdening you with my problems when I didn’t even want to deal with them myself. I’ve learned now, though, that it was wrong of me to do that.” Bringing her hoof over, Pinkie handed the trinket back to Limestone who sat peering up at Pinkie. She could see the desperation in her sister’s eyes, so she reached over and placed her hoof over her sister’s as she held the stone to her chest. “The reason I came back home is because it was the one place that I knew I could feel safe,” Pinkie pressed, looking intently into her sister’s eyes. “I came back because of you.”

“And me?” Marble asked, approaching with a sniffle.

“And you,” Pinkie said warmly, welcoming her into the hug and holding them both. “I’m going to do better, I promise.” That was enough for Limestone. She had exhausted her ammunition only to find that she was fighting a battle that didn’t need to be fought. Relinquishing what remained of her misgivings, the mare curled up closer to Pinkie as the sun continued to set, painting the sky in streaks of vivid gold and pastel pink. Limestone had stepped up to be strong for Marble after Pinkie left, and there, for the first time in decades, she found herself feeling safe in her weakness, held by the sister she had wanted to stay. When the last of the tears fell and the three of them started for home, they did so with a closeness that had Limestone feeling like she had been made brand new.

The Path Ahead

The afternoon had been an interesting one for Merry. Doctor’s orders had mandated no less than a week of agonizing boredom in the form of bedrest, and though he didn’t exactly count himself the defiant type, Chai hadn’t even finished asking for help before he leapt out the door and wriggled into the harness tethered to the tea cart. Passively, he knew that more rest meant more fun sooner, and that would have kept him inside were it not for the fact that Chai couldn’t meet the demand for tea and coffee all by herself. He had been nothing short of elated for a chance to get out and mingle again, just as the townsfolk were eager to see him. The wealth of attention made it difficult to sit still, they had been busier that morning than they had in quite some time, so by the time they had closed down for evening and he had pulled the cart back home, he didn’t really feel up to doing much of anything but plopping down on the couch.

“Oooh, I shouldn’t have hopped around so much,” Merry muttered with a quiet groan, wincing as he carefully eased his injured hoof onto a pillow. There hadn’t been much but the occasional twinge when he had awoken, but the throbbing was coming in waves that left him feeling light-headed.

“On the contrary,” Chai spoke up from the loveseat across the way, “if you had sat still, you likely wouldn’t be smiling.”

“Hehe, yeah, probably not,” he replied with a guilty chuckle. “I know it’s only been a few days, but it feels like I’ve been cooped up in my room for ages! It was really nice to see everypony again, yanno?”

“Mmhmm,” came her murmured agreement while she took a deep draft of relaxing chamomile tea. “I was a little shocked with the turnout. You were right to pack extra tea, or we would have run out by mid-afternoon.”

“Well, but doesn’t that leave us with less for the week?” he asked hesitantly. “Our stock is pretty low, and the plants in the garden won’t be ready for another month or two, right?”

“Indeed, it is a concern,” she agreed, adopting a pensive expression. “Chances are good that, in the end, I’ll have to swallow my pride and order the herbs we need from other growers.”

“Blech, pride tastes awful,” Merry blanched, sticking his tongue out.

“It is quite bitter,” Chai laughed quietly. “Perhaps that’s why all the unpleasant ponies drink coffee.”

“Oh, come on, that’s not fair,” Merry rebuttaled, failing to maintain his stern expression for more than a few seconds. “What about that one stallion that keeps coming by?”

“You mean the one that has worked the perfection of his swill down to a science?” Chai replied dismissively, slowly breaking into a broad grin. “He could stand to have a couple of your mints before assaulting me with his bean breath.”

“This from the Queen of Leaves,” Merry countered, rolling his eyes. “You know, you keep talking like that, and you’re going to end up falling for a coffee drinker.”

“That sounds like quite an unexciting relationship that would be sorely lacking in intimacy,” she said, her lips curling into a devious smile. “After all, I cannot imagine a greater deterrence for romance than kissing someone that smells of finely roasted bilgewater.”

“You’re such a drinkist, Vanille!” Merry cackled, thoroughly amused at the idea of his sister falling for some dashing stallion obsessed with coffee. “Alright then, what kind of pony would you consider worthy of your affection as queen?”

“Why this sudden curiosity?” Chai answered calmly, raising an eyebrow. “Could it be perhaps that you’re projecting?”

“Nope, there’s no need to be loud,” he explained with a wink. “We’re indoors.”

“Indeed…” she murmured, shaking her head and taking a few moments to collect her thoughts. “... I’m not actually sure that I have an answer.” Catching the somber undertones in his sister’s subtle shift of tone, Merry perked his ears and gave her his full attention. “This may come as a surprise to you, but I think of romance quite frequently.”

“... Really?” Chai had been correct that her words came as a surprise. Merry couldn’t recall her ever really saying much about love or dating other than the occasionally comment, and even then she seemed disinterested. “You don’t really talk about it, ever.”

“That’s because there isn’t a whole lot to say.” Chai’s gaze drifted back down to her cup as there followed another brief pause. “Romance is… something of a mystery to me,” she conceded, looking almost ashamed. “When we were young, all the other fillies at school were always chatting about how cute one colt was, or how lame another was, and I just didn’t understand the point in any of it. I can understand not wanting to be alone,” she pointed out, “but I’ve always had you around, and I’m… content with that.”

“Sis, that’s… really sweet.”

“Perhaps, but it won’t last,” Chai continued with a rueful sigh. “You’ve had several marefriends since we moved here to Dodge.” Her brother looked away with evident discomfort. Chai knew she had broached a painful subject, one that was yet another reason she never brought up romance in casual conversation. “There’s no shame in finding another, Merry. Your heart yearns for affection in a way that I don’t personally understand, but one of these days, you’ll find that special somepony that will never leave, and I’ll end up alone.”

“No, sis, that’s…” Merry began weakly, but found himself without the words to refute what she had said. She was right that they had always been together, and even when he had been dating, he hadn’t realized how it would affect his sister. “... Why didn’t you say something?”

“I wanted to see you happy, Merry.” He knew he should feel touched that his sister had stowed her own needs so that he could pursue his own, but all he felt was regret that she had dealt with her fears on her own.

“But… how can I be happy if my happiness makes you sad?” he asked quietly, tucking his hooves to his chest. “I don’t want you to be alone…”

“So you understand, then, how much I want to make sure that you never have to feel that way,” Chai pressed, setting aside her tea and looking upon her brother with evident concern. “You… you still haven’t healed completely, Merry. You’ve come a long way, and most days it’s almost impossible to see, but I know there’s still a hole in your heart. I don’t care what happens to me, as long as it gets filled.”

“... Can you come here so I can hug you?” Moved by the simple request and the frailty in her brother’s timid voice, Chai swept over and lay down beside Merry on the spacious sofa, holding him fondly. She found herself wondering who was drawing strength from who as she pressed closer to combat the wellspring of emotions bubbling within her chest. Her brother’s support was indispensable, and the prospect of having to find her comfort elsewhere was intimidating for the mare that knew she lacked proper social skills. And yet, she knew that between the two of them, it was the extrovert that she clung to that needed somepony most at the end of the day.

“Would you still hug me if I liked coffee?”

“I would make an exception for you, little brother,” Chai murmured encouragingly, meeting his hesitant expression with gentleness.

“So that means that you could fall for a coffee pony!” he chortled, grinning despite himself.

“That thought certainly has you sidetracked,” she murmured, playfully prodding his chest. “What about yourself, hmmm? What is it that you look for in a mare?”

“Pin-” His hooves raced to cover his mouth, but it was too late. He had already divulged more than enough information for Chai to know what he had been going to say, and he shrank back a little as he flushed deeply. “I m-mean, um…”

“Hmmm, let’s see now…” Chai mused aloud, thoughtfully tapping a hoof to her chin. “Playful, energetic, supportive, encouraging… has a laugh that makes my little brother swoon, a scent that makes him salivate, and competitive gaming skills… am I missing anything?”

“... She’s pink?”

“Ah, yes, she does look like quite the pretty rose, doesn’t she?” Chai cooed sweetly. “Somepony appears to be blushing.”

“Not like you’re helping any,” he muttered, looking away.

“There’s no need to be ashamed, Merry,” his sister assured him. “While I won’t say that there aren’t still some reservations on my end, Pinkie seems like she could be a wonderful friend, though I suspect that it will soon be something more the way she has you leashed.”

“S-sis!” Merry exclaimed, covering his face with both hooves as an invigorating rush of heat swept over him head to hoof. “D-don’t say things like that! I already accidentally licked her once, and I don’t need you making me think about being… about that! Besides,” he added as he peeked out from behind his hooves, “I’m preeetty sure she already knows that I like being treated like, um… like a…”

“Pet?” He ducked back behind his hooves while his ears wilted under the heat, though they gave themselves a nasty case of whiplash as the sound of somepony knocking at the door snapped them upright. “Oh, now whoever could that be?” Chai murmured, ruffling her brother’s mane as she rolled off the couch and stood upright. “Do you need a moment to… compose yourself?” She giggle like a filly as a pillow was sent sailing in her direction before trotting over to the door, finding none other than one Pinkamena Diane Pie waiting on the other side. “Good evening, Pinkie.”

“Hey, Vanille, sorry to bother you this late,” the mare apologised with a wearied grin.

“Oh, it’s no bother at all!” she laughed, smiling sweetly. “After all, I’m sure my brother would love the company.” The pleasantness lacing Chai’s smooth words struck Pinkie as odd, considering how stoic she had been the first time they met. She was, however, rather tuckered out from both the long walk over and the rigors of the day, and she couldn’t help but giggle as a pillow sailed through the air and landed with a plop between the two of them. “Come on in, Pinkie. He’s resting on the couch.”

“Hehe, okay!” Snatching up the pillow, Pinkie plodded over to the couch and found Merry clutching the last of the ammunition to his chest like a teddy bear. “Hiya, Merry!”

“H-hi.” He shuddered as he caught the scent of Pinkie’s mane wafting over, and he swallowed hard, fighting desperately to cram down all the steamy thoughts that his sister had unwittingly put into his head with her teasing. Unfortunately, the mare seated beside him touted top notch sleuthing skills, and between his stammered reply and his reserved behavior, Pinkie correctly deduced that something was up.

“Is everything alright?” she asked, leaning closer. “You look really flushed. Oh no, are you getting a fever?” Before he could muster a reply, Pinkie reached over and put a hoof to his forehead, though she pulled away as a tiny yelp slipped from his lips. “Oh my gosh, you’re burning up!”

“I’m fine, r-really!”

“Fine? Your face is, like, a million zillion degrees!” Pinkie exclaimed, concern etched onto her muzzle. “What if it’s something serious?”

“Well, I mean, it is serious, but-”

“Then why haven’t you gone to the doctor?”

“That wouldn’t help!”

“What if-”

“Pinkie, I’m not sick!” Merry shouted frantically, growing more embarrassed by the second. His ears peeled back as Pinkie shrank away a little at the outburst, leaving him with little recourse but to own up to the real reason why his cheeks were painted crimson. “...ike you.”

“Huh?” Pinkie mumbled, herself still trying to recover from the shock of hearing Merry yell. She knew it wasn’t an angry sound, and she certainly wasn’t any stranger to loudness what with all the parties she had thrown, but that didn’t change the fact that it had rattled her more than she felt it should.

“I s-said that, I, um… lk y…” It was difficult to say which was making it harder to understand, the stammering or the fact that he was talking through the pillow.

“You’re gonna have to try that again, Merry,” she said, carefully prying the pillow away. “What is it?”

“Ohhh, I said that I like you, okay?” Pinkie blinked.

“... Well, duh, I already knew that,” she replied with a hint of exasperation. "All that build up for nothing? We’re friends. Friends like friends. It’s math.”

“No, not like casual, get-together-to-hang-out-like-normal friends...” Her hooves moved of their own accord, hugging the pillow that she had brought over from the door to her chest to cushion the pounding in her heart: Merry wasn’t the only one blushing anymore.

“You mean...” she began to say, her voice trembling with nervous excitement. “You mean like close-friend-that-you-might-want-as-something-more like? Really?” Her question at the end made Merry worry that he had crossed some kind of line, though what he heard as incredulous was nothing short of barely restrained elation.

“I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t mean to!” Merry pleaded, completely missing her meaning. “I know we haven’t known each other very long and it’s way too soon for me to even be thinking about dating, but I just… I can’t help it!” He hugged his pillow tighter as he peered back at Pinkie. “There are so many things about you that I really, really like. I haven’t been able to focus, or… or anything,” he finished, looking away. “That was so lame… I can’t imagine what she’s thinking right now.”

“...Hehe!” Melodious and warming, Merry turned towards the mare only to find himself even further smitten as she giggled from behind her pillow. “I’m glad I’m not the only pony that hasn’t been able to think straight!”

“Wait, you mean…” She nodded, her eyes twinkling merrily.

“B-but… it doesn’t bother you that I’m already thinking ahead like that?”

“Mm mm,” she murmured, shaking her head. “I haven’t had a whole lot of time to think about my feelings yet. Life has been moving so fast, I can’t hardly keep up! On the way over here, I had a little bit of time to think, and, well...” Her curls bobbed as she poked her head up over the edge of her pillow, just enough that Merry could see her smile. “I have a lot of fun when we’re together, and I miss you when we’re apart. You’re always on my mind, and you know what? It doesn’t bother me at all. You’re right, though,” she admitted reluctantly, “this is all happening really fast.”

“You don’t… feel pressured at all, do you?”

“What? Oh, nonono, that’s not what I meant at all!” Pinkie assured him. “That’s just it, though. You didn’t even have to try to catch my attention, but you have it anyways. My parents would want me to take things slow, to give it time, but I’ve seen my friends fall head over hooves just like that. I’m nervous to reach for it, but… I want to.” Pinkie could hardly believe how open she was being with Merry, and how safe she felt in doing so. It was just one more reason why she felt that her interest in Merry was well founded.

“I’m glad I’m not the only one that’s nervous about it,” Merry offered with a sheepish grin. They both sat in silence for a time, thinking about what they had just learned from one another.

“One month.”

“Huh?” Merry snapped out of his contemplation and gave his attention back to Pinkie.

“Well, both of us are nervous, and we haven’t known each other very long, right?” she replied excitedly. “Why don’t we take a month to just spend as friends while we get to know one another?”

“That’s a great idea!” Merry said, brightening on the spot. “A month would give my hoof plenty of time to heal, and it would give me some time to get to know your family. Your father really cares about you, and I don’t want to tread on his hooves. One month...” They both fell quiet again with similar thoughts: could they even make it that long? “Sure seems like a long time, huh?”

“Heh, yeah, it really does,” Pinkie snickered, shuffling a little closer. “Who knows? Maybe a week will be long enough?”

“Don’t start talking like that!” he chided her playfully, wriggling with excitement. “... You’ll get my hopes up.”

“That won’t be the only thing if she leans a little closer.” A deeper crimson could not have been achieved by either pony as Chai seemingly materialized behind Merry with her forelegs resting on the ridge of the couch and an infuriatingly calm expression barely concealing her amusement.

“S-s-sis!” Merry cried, completely mortified that his sister would say something like that. All things considered, she wouldn’t, and that’s what made it even more flustering. “H-how could you s-say that!”

“Words make it fairly simple,” she replied, looking down at her brother with a mischievous glint in her eye. “As the elder sibling, it is my birthright to give my brother a hard time…” She paused just long enough for Pinkie’s partially suppressed giggle to break the silence before continuing. “Besides, if you intend to become comfortable with her family, then it stands to reason that she be given a taste of ours.” Her declaration sounded like a death sentence.

“You’re not normally like this, sis. What’s gotten into you?”

“Oh, don’t be so stiff.” Chai knew that she was treading a fine line, but her intentions weren’t nearly as malicious as Merry probably felt they were. She had said what she had as a kind of test to gauge Pinkie’s reactions, and while an imperfect test on account of her not really having any set barometer for passing, the mare certainly hadn’t failed. “Alright,” she relented, standing to leave, “I’ll leave you two alone. Play nice, alright?”

“She’s such a butt,” Merry muttered darkly, assuming Chai to be out of earshot.

“Always will be,” came the unexpected reply, leaving the poor colt even further abashed. At that moment, he imagined that being swallowed into the cracks between the sofa cushions would have been a kinder fate than trying to pick up the pieces of his dignity.

“Ugh… Pinkie, I’m really, reeeally sorry about my sister,” he began with a groan. “She isn’t normally like that, honest.”

“Hehe! You don’t need to worry about that,” Pinkie said soothingly, scooting over to the edge of the couch and patting his head. “You think having one sister is bad? I’ve got three.”

“I guess…” he muttered, far from convinced.

“Hmmm… Hey, I know! Why don’t we play a game to cheer you up?”

“Really? I mean, yeah, that sounds like fun!” he replied, perking instantly. “What game do you think we should play?”

“How about Twister?” they heard Chai’s voice call out from the other room.

Merry barely had time to scowl before Pinkie raised her voice and shouted, “Gotta wait until he’s better before I let him tie me up!” No sooner had the words left her mouth than Pinkie brought her hooves up to keep them in, but she was much too late. “Where did that come from? That doesn’t sound like me at all!” She had known that being around Merry was disarming, but she hadn’t expected something like that to ever come out of her mouth. Coming to, she looked over at Merry with a sheepish grin.

“So… one whole month, huh?” Merry glanced over his shoulder towards where he imagine his sister might be, then back at Pinkie with fated acceptance written upon his muzzle, punctuated with a bashful smile.

“We’re never going to make it, are we?”

“Not if we don’t stop thinking about it, nope,” Pinkie agreed as she stood. “You wait here, I’ll find a game to play.” From there, the evening passed somewhat uneventfully. Chai seemed to have reverted to her usually reserved self by the time she joined in on the festivities, and within no time they were laughing and cheering their way around the board. Minutes became hours with seamless transition, and in what seemed like no time at all, Pinkie found herself blindsided by her curfew. Part of her wanted to just ignore the clock and stick around, with the justification being that her parents had acknowledged that she could make her own choices, but she didn’t want to worry her parents any more than she already had. Allowing her to leave at night, and to see a colt, no less, had been a great show of faith on their part, and so it was that they cleaned up the cards at the turn of the eleventh hour.

“Don’t worry about the cards, Merry, I’ll put them away. Just rest,” Pinkie urged him, gathering the scattered clubs and the rest. It bothered him a little, having to be cared for like he was, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t grateful.

“I’ll make it up to you when I’m better,” he assured her, sinking deeper into the sofa and watching the mare with growing admiration as she bounded down the hall. There was a vibrancy within every action that made him feel alive, from the way her mane bounced at the slightest movement to the way she hopped, skipped, and jumped as often as she would walk. “Perhaps two weeks won’t be so bad,” he thought as she traipsed back into the living room, beaming up at her in an almost dream-like stupor.

“Why’re you looking at me like that?” Pinkie inquired, pawing at the ground and trying not to blush.

“‘Cause you’re amazing.”

“Eheh, you’re just saying that ‘cause you’re tired,” she deflected, unable to keep a faint blush from rising to her cheeks as she neared. “Come on, I’ll help you to bed.” Pinkie had definitely been right about the tired part. Flopping off the couch like he’d had too much ale, Merry struggled upright with Pinkie’s aid, leaning heavily upon her as they walked. However, something was different. She had helped him as she was a number of time without thinking anything of it, but the moment they touched, she became acutely aware of every brush of every hair on her coat as he leaned upon her. She was glad that he was so focused on walking, because the only words that came to mind were an incoherent babble of random descriptions for how stimulating his touch really was.

“I hope he’s not lying on the couch next time I come for a visit,” she thought, nearly losing her step as she felt the warmth of his tickling the back of her neck. “I don’t know that I’ll be able to keep myself from cuddling up next to him, or- oooh, why’d I have to think of that?” she wondered as an all-too-familiar heat kindled within her chest. Fortunately, they were only a few steps from the bedroom, so she didn’t have long to dwell on it.

“Ahhh, thanks, Pinkie,” Merry said with a contented sigh as he pulled the covers around him.

“You’re welcome. See you around!”

“I meant what I said, you know.” She stopped at the door.

“... I know you did, Merry,” she said softly, turning back to face him. “But you don’t really know anything about me yet, and I can’t help but worry that you won’t always think like that.” They both fell into an awkward silence, one that was broken by a similar admission.

“... There are plenty of skeletons in my closet, too.”

“They sure must be cramped with all those games in there...” Though their laughter was faint, it was still there, and they both exchanged rueful grins with one another in mutual understanding. They weren’t perfect, and they both had doubts, but there was no denying that there was something forming between them. “One month?”

“One month,” the stallion chuckled, shaking his head. “Take care, Pinkie.” For a moment, she lingered at the doorway, seemingly unsure. “Is everything…” he started to say, but found his question answered as Pinkie darted over and wrapped her hooves around his shoulders.

“Just one more for the road,” she whispered.

“How about two?” he suggested instead, returning the embrace.

“Works for me…” They held each other for a time, each one unwilling to be the one to pull away. She didn’t want to let go, but she knew her father was waiting. “Thanks for being amazing, Minty,” Pinkie murmured as she pulled away. “I’ll see you around.” Savoring the sensation of his embrace even as it faded from her shoulders, Pinkie flashed one last smile before trotting out to say goodbye to Chai. The mare was seated at the table watching her expectantly as she approached.

“G’night, Vanille. I’ll be seeing you.”

“Yes, I’m sure you will,” came her ambiguous response as she waved. “Oh, Pinkie?” The mare paused with her hoof on the door handle. “... Please, be gentle.” There was a weight in her words that seemed out of place, but Pinkie shook it off and nodded.

“I… I will.” Sent away with an approving nod, Pinkie stepped out into the evening and started towards home. The cool of the breeze brushing her face helped soothe the heat that still lingered just below the surface, and despite all the questions on her mind, she found herself irregularly calm as she trotted through the quiet streets of Dodge. Whether she was just too tired to really take it all in, or just reveling in the afterglow of feeling she hadn’t dealt with before, she couldn’t say, but she had some time to get things sorted out. She set a brisk pace and made it home with ten minutes to spare, receiving a warm welcome from her father as she stepped inside.

“How did things go with Merry?” he asked, closing the door behind Pinkie as she mosied inside. “You don’t seem as lively as I would have thought.”

“Huh? Oh, yeah, it went fine,” she said distractedly, heaving a tremendous yawn. Sensing her father’s curiosity, she took a few seconds to gather her thoughts before explaining from the beginning what they had both decided. Igneous listened intently, and as she concluded her tale, he strode over with an approving smile and placed a hoof on her shoulder.

“You make your father proud, Pinkie. I know how excited you are about Merry, and it brings me great comfort to know you aren’t just rushing headlong into something you might regret. Don’t worry,” he chuckled, patting her back, “the time will have passed before you know it.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right,” she agreed. “Thanks for letting me see him tonight, daddy. I feel a lot better now that we’ve talked things over.”

“Communication and honesty are two of the most important building blocks for any relationship,” he told her. “One of the quickest paths to ruin is keeping secrets from one another. I’m not saying that you have to just spill everything out all at once, but if you and Merry ever hope to make things work as a couple, you’ll have to be comfortable enough to talk to one another about anything, and I mean anything.” He couldn’t help but grin a little at his daughter’s hesitation. “For what it’s worth, I’d guess that you both are better in that regard than a lot of young couples. Now, go on and get some rest, Pinkamena. I’ll see you in the morning.”

Murmuring her thanks, Pinkie drowsily made her way up the stairs and to her room where she gratefully collapsed onto her bed. Poking his head out from the closet, Gummy waddled over and gummed his way up to Pinkie, though she seemed to have already passed out by the time he made it over. At a gentle prod of his nose, her hooves reached over and pulled him to her chest, her muzzle wrapped in a warming smile. It was the kind of smile that Gummy hadn’t seen Pinkie wear at night for a long while, and it made him smile, too.

“One month,” she murmured, cracking open her eyes just long enough to beam down at Gummy. “Just one month…”

High Score

There had never been a time in Pinkie’s life in which she had been so thoroughly thrilled that her expectations hadn’t been met than that afternoon. It was the thirty-first day of the proposed one month friendship period, and while she and Merry had both been somewhat skeptical in their ability to keep their mutual excitement for the other from clouding their minds and dashing into something that they might not be ready for, they instead found themselves more than comfortable postponing the inevitable onset of romance. Pinkie, despite Applejack’s stance that she needn’t be perfect to be an adequate marefriend, had felt that she really needed to sort herself out after the tumultuous days that had first led her to Dodge, and Merry was wonderfully understanding about the whole thing. She had never been the type to live by any kind of a rigid schedule, but trying to balance spending time with her family, visiting her friends in Ponyville, and making time for Merry, in addition to finding the quiet necessary for contemplation, had led to the days flying by at an alarming rate. And there, as she and Merry both enjoyed some ice cream under the warmth of the setting sun from a hill on the outskirts of town, she found herself taken by an unusual sense of contentment.

“Heh, father was right again. I can hardly believe it has already a whole month,” she mused, twirling her cone to keep the edges from dripping. “I’ve been racing all over the place trying to take care of everypony, and even though I’ve been spending more time with Merry than I thought I would be able to squeeze in, it still feels like I’ve barely had any time with him at all.” Directing her eyes over to the stallion seated a respectful distance away, she found the corners of her mouth tugging towards a smile as she watched him lapping happily at his cone in true canine fashion. “Hehe! I guess time really does fly when you’re having fun...” Making no effort to conceal the fondness in her gaze, she continued beaming as the stallion noticed he was being watched and paused mid-lick with his tongue to the cone, looking back with bashful bemusement.

“... Wath?”

“Oh, just a lot of nothin’,” Pinkie replied with a giggle. Emboldened by nothing in particular, save maybe her own growing affection, she scooched over and brushed up against his side before resting her head on his shoulder.

“I’ll have to nothin’ more often if it makes you smile like that,” he said with a chuckle, leaning in for a quick nuzzle before returning to his cone. Both of the ponies were known for being veritable chatterboxes more often than not, but together, they had found that even in the times of quiet, such as the one that followed after Merry’s simple statement, there wasn’t any awkwardness to be found. Pinkie never felt like she needed to fill in the silence to keep from being boring, or being bored herself, and that was just one of the things she had learned that she really enjoyed about her time with him.

“Hey… Minty?” she offered quietly, looking up at him as he tilted his head to peer down at her. Pinkie hadn’t intentioned to pause after her opening, but she couldn’t help but take a few moments to admire his calming blue eyes. “Have you ever thought about the future?”

“The future?” he repeated, cocking his head to one side. “Like, what-am-I-gonna-eat-for-dinner future? Or how-long-before-the-space-ponies-invade, future?”

“Heehee, nothing like that!” she all but squealed, shaking with mirth. “It’s just, you know how when you’re little and you haven’t found your cutie mark, ponies will ask you what you want to do when you grow up? Well, I’ve had my mark for a long time, but I still don’t know the answer to that question.” After a brief pause, she could see the comprehension kick in. “I guess I’ve just been thinking about life a lot lately, and I was curious if you knew what you wanted to do. Come to think of it,” she continued, her eyes darting briefly towards his hips, “I haven’t even asked you about your cutie mark! Those are candies, right?”

“Yeah! They’re called pillow mints,” he explained, himself taking a moment to look at the trio of candies on his flank. “They aren’t really very popular nowadays, but I still really like them.”

“So is your talent something candy related?” Pinkie asked excitedly. She was never one to turn down candy, and having a coltfriend that could make it only made Merry sound more dreamy. “Can you make candy canes? How about taffy? Ooh, ooh, or what about rock candy?”

“I am pretty good with sweets,” he admitted as he laughed, “but I don’t think that’s really my talent.” Pinkie was slightly disappointed to hear it, but “pretty good” was still better than “combustible kitchen hazard.”

“Awww! Okay, then, what does it mean?”

“Let’s see, tasty mint candies…” he mused aloud, adopting a contemplative look. “It must mean that I’m refreshingly sweet.” His declaration was made with a comical seriousness that took a hammer straight to Pinkie’s funny bone. Her head slid off of his shoulder and onto his lap as she doubled over with laughter, broadening the delighted smile overtaking his muzzle. Her curly mane tickled his legs, and the contact brought a faint flush to his cheeks that he was more than ready to embrace.

“Heehee, hee, hoo~” Pinkie wheezed, rolling onto her back and bursting into another short bout of snickers as she laid eyes on Merry’s face. “Okay, okay, phew… why don’t I try asking a different way: how did you get your cutie mark?”

“What was wrong with my first answer?” he shot back, sticking out his tongue and grinning. “Alright… I actually got my cutie mark when I was really young.” Wriggling to get a little more comfortable and a little closer for the story, Pinkie settled in and perked her ears. “My father, Candy Corn, is a confectioner. He owned a little shop in Baltimare where we lived, and made just about every type of candy you can think of!”

“Sour chews?”

“Yup.”

“Candy ribbons?”

“In every color.”

“Gummy jalapeños?!”

“Uh…” There was a brief pause in which Pinkie assumed that victory was hers, but Merry would not be defeated so easily. “That’s right, I had almost forgotten about those!” he exclaimed, laughing happily as the memory came back to him. “They were a seasonal candy that we sold during the winter. Since the spice made you feel warm inside, they were really popular when it got cold.”

“I can’t believe that somepony else has actually heard of those! Everypony in Ponyville thought I was crazy when I brought them up! I- oopsie!” she interrupted herself, fidgeting with her hooves in embarrassment.. “I didn’t mean to interrupt. Go ahead, don’t mind me.”

“Don’t worry, I don’t,” Merry assured her with a playful pat on the head. “Anyways, my mother was an herbalist of sorts that specialized in making healing teas. I somehow got the idea in my head that it would be really cool to mix mom’s herbs with dad’s candy. When I told my dad about it, he did exactly that, using some of mother’s mint to make some candies. I was so excited when I first saw them!” he recalled, snickering as he recalled how he had romped around the house. “They looked just like my mane, and I loved everything about them. The delicate balance between the sweetness of the sugar and the faint bite of the mint, the bright colors that looked just like my hair… everything.”

“And then you got your cutie mark?” Pinkie asked expectantly, her eyes lit up with the final few rays of the setting sun.

“Not just yet,” Merry replied, shaking his head. “After tasting them for the first time, I was hooked. I wanted everyone to try them, so I went around giving them to anyone who would take them. Baltimare is a big city with lots of busy ponies, though, and not very many ponies payed me any attention. None, actually.”

“Whaaat? Who could say no to free candy?” Her hooves tucked themselves up to chest as equal amounts horror and confusion temporarily left her looking stricken.

“Ponies that don’t know what’s really good for them,” he stated plainly, reaching over and resting a hoof over hers.

“I’ll say…” she muttered, snatching his hoof and cuddling it to her chest like a stuffed animal. “So… what happened next?”

“After not being able to find a single pony to accept the mints, I started getting discouraged,” he said with a tinge of sadness. “I had wanted to give up and go home, but I felt like if I kept going for just a little longer, I’d find somepony to share with, and after a few more minutes... I did.” A wonderful warmth had crept into the stallion’s voice, and it filled Pinkie’s chest with the most glorious feeling as his tone softened.

“Down one of the alleys, I found a colt being bullied by some other colts. They were all older than me, so I grabbed an adult to help me run them off. When they left, I realized that the colt that had been being bullied was one of my classmates. We had never really talked before then. He seemed really quiet, and spent most of his time in class scribbling in a notepad.” Considering how terrible bullies could be, Pinkie couldn’t understand why Merry was smiling, and she listened that much closer as he brought the story to a close.

“I… honestly wasn’t sure what to say,” Merry conceded quietly. “I didn’t know anything about him, but I couldn’t stand to see him crying like that. I got to thinking ‘what if this is why I couldn’t give up?’ That’s when I remembered the candy. For a moment, I didn’t think he would take it. When he did, though…” The sensation in her chest flared as she looked up at the glassy-eyed stallion, grinning ear to ear. “... You should have seen him smile, Pinkie. I knew at right then that I wanted to help ponies that were sad to smile again, just like I had for that colt.”

”And just like you did for me,” she reminded him, reaching over and wrapping her hooves around his waist. “That was the sweetest cutie mark story I’ve ever heard, Minty. Thanks so much for sharing!” She felt like she could have hugged him forever, and she accidentally let slip an embarrassing sigh of bliss as he reached over and laid his hooves about her shoulders.

“You’re quite welcome, Pinkie. What about yours?”

“Oh, it’s nothing that great,” she deflected, nervously pulling away and sitting up. The thought of sharing her own seemingly insignificant story brought with it a gnawing anxiety. “What if he isn’t impressed? What if it makes him think less of me because my story isn’t as good? What if… what if he doesn’t think I’m nice enough?! What-”

“Pinkie? Pinkie, are you okay?”

“Huh?” she squeaked, her voice cracking as she snapped back to reality to find Merry watching her with evident concern. “N-no, I mean, yes, maybe? It’s just… my story isn’t as good. It’s actually kinda… bittersweet.” She stared down at the ground, barely forestalling a shiver as nervousness welled in her heart on account of the quiet that followed. However, Pinkie’s unfounded fears didn’t have long to galavant through her mind. Sensing the mare’s discomfort, Merry scooched over and placed himself behind the mare, draping his hooves over her shoulders and pulling her to his chest.

“It’s not a competition, silly…” There was something about hearing one of her favorite words whispered in her ear. Pinkie couldn’t even begin to describe the onslaught of emotions that filled her heart as she felt the rhythmic beat of Merry’s heart massaging her back, and she all but melted into his hooves as the sensation of his breath brushing her neck sent sparks crackling up and down her spine. “Cutie marks are part of what define who we are. I already know enough to say that you’re amazing, Pinkie, and that’s why I wanna learn a little bit more.”

“You really are good at being sweet,” she mumbled, pressing back ever so slightly and shuddering with amazement at how her everything lit up. She had been in close contact with hundreds, possibly thousands of ponies, but never once had another made her feel the things that she felt at that moment. In fact, they had been displaying their affection far more openly throughout the last few days, and while part of her wondered if she should be concerned, the other part of her couldn’t care less. Merry made her feel safe, and that was worth its weight in candy.

“I guess I can go ahead and tell you about how the sky exploded,” she began with a hesitant chuckle. “Back when I was just a little filly… well, I wasn’t always this happy. I… was actually a lot more like I was when you first found me, except that was just… normal.”

“... Really?” Merry wondered aloud, finding that difficult to accept. “That doesn’t sound like very much fun.”

“‘Fun’ wasn’t necessary to run a rock farm,” Pinkie explained, shaking her head. “I didn’t even really understand what fun was until I went to visit my great Granny Pie. She was… hehe, she was a funny ol’ mare.” Though there was still trace amounts of lingering hesitancy, Merry could tell before Pinkie went any further that her grandmother was precious to her.

“She was the one who taught me how to smile, how to laugh, and how to find fun when everyday looked bleak. I could hardly believe my gruff ol’ pa was related to her, but I’m glad that he was. I started to spend a lot of time with her, and I would have spent more if I had known that she was-” Caring hooves tightened their hold, knowing that the story had just taken a turn for the dire.

“Granny... passed away when I was just six years old,” Pinkie said quietly, sinking deeper into Merry’s embrace. “I just started to think that maybe I could learn how to shake off the sadness, and just when there was a little bit of light in my life, it just… got snuffed.”

“I’m so sorry, Pinkie, I shouldn’t have asked…”

“Interrupting…” Readjusting herself so that she could look up at Merry, she flashed him a frail smile before again laying her head against his chest. “Don’t feel bad for asking, Merry. I don’t normally give the whole story because it’s… it’s hard to remember, yanno? But… I think it’s good that I’m thinking about it. Besides, every cloud has a silver lining, and this one is bordered in rainbows.” Somehow, Pinkie got the impression that Merry was taking the story harder than she was, and she nestled up under his chin and placed a calming hoof on his chest.

“A few days after hearing the news, I was out working the fields like normal. I knew that Granny wouldn’t have wanted me to keep being sad, but I couldn’t seem to find the strength to shake it off on my own. Deep down, I wanted to be happy, and to make others happy like she had done for me, but I didn’t know how. And then…”

“The sky exploded?”

“The sky totally exploded,” Pinkie confirmed with a small laugh. “I had just finished asking for a sign when I heard a huge boom. I looked up and saw a wave of colors flash across the sky, and it was at that moment, with the magic and wind whipping my mane around, that I remembered something my granny had once told me. She said, ‘the best cure for a frown is to make someone else smile,’ and that’s exactly what I knew I had to do. The next morning, I threw my very first party for my family. It had been the first time I had ever seen any of them really smile, and just like that, I got my mark,” she concluded, peeking up at Merry. “I’ve been doing my best to make others laugh ever since.”

“... How could you think that wasn’t a good story?” Merry asked slowly, incredulous. “That was beautiful, Pinkie. I don’t know what you thought I would think, but… all I can think is that you’re even more lovely than before.”

“Were you always this flattering?” Pinkie mumbled, doing her best to brand his chest with her searing cheeks.

“Encouragement where needed, praise where due, and in the case of special ponies, a little of both will do,” he murmured, giving her an extra squeeze. “Your grandmother sounds like she was a wonderful mare.”

“She was beyond wonderful,” the mare agreed in a reverent tone while her attention drew towards the sky. Evening would be falling soon, heralded by picturesque strains of vermilion and gold, and that would mean an end to their fateful day. Merry hadn’t yet asked the question that she had hoped to hear, but even if he didn’t before the day was through, Pinkie couldn’t imagine voicing any kind of complaint. They had spent nearly the whole day together, and it brought back the butterflies as she contemplated, for the briefest of moments, what it would be like if they could spend every day as they had that one.

“... Hey, Minty?”

“Mmhmm?” he murmured, giving her his attention.

“I… just wanted to say thank you.” She felt her heart rate double as she looked up at him. Their muzzles were only a few inches apart, and every breath he took tickled her nose.

“I could say the same to you,” he returned with a fond smile. “I’m curious though, why are you thanking me? Was it the ice cream?”

“I’m always thankful for ice cream,” she stated with a giggle, “but no, it’s more than just that. Because of everything going on, I feel like I’ve barely had any energy left for you, and yet you still always seem happy to see me.”

“That’s because I always am happy to see you, duh,” he laughed, though he quieted down after he noticed the earnestness on Pinkie’s face. What she was talking about wasn’t nearly as inconsequential as Merry had thought.

“You don’t understand,” Pinkie said, shaking her head. “For the longest time, I would do everything I could to keep even my closest of friends from seeing me when I was too tired or sad to smile. I had been really worried that you would think I was too boring when I would come by because I was so tired, but you made me laugh and feel wanted every time. That really means something to me.”

“We agreed to be boring together, remember?” he reminded her gently. “‘You’re worth being bored. But you know the best part?’” Her breath caught in her chest as Merry leaned close and nuzzled her cheek before bringing his lips close to her ear and whispering, “‘I don’t think I’ll be bored.’”

Having spent most of her time being the one doing the cheering up rather than the one receiving it, Pinkie herself wasn’t fully aware of just how much a few kind words could mean. Hearing her own words returned left her without argument, without doubt, and without words to express her gratitude as the affection welling within her chest boiled over. Being held suddenly didn’t seem like it was close enough, and without thinking she just reacted, knocking the colt onto his back and sending them both skidding a short ways in the soft sand. When the dust settled, she was laying atop him with her hooves pulling her as close to his chest as she could manage without winding him. She could feel his heart racing to keep pace with hers while her being was cloaked in the most wonderful kind of fever, and yet even still it didn’t seem to be enough.

“I… I wanna be closer,” she managed in between her shallow breaths. “Can’t we be closer than this? I mean, there’s gotta be some way…”

“U-um…”

“I wanna be so close, it feels like I’m inside you.” She hadn’t the slightest idea what she was saying, but it Merry sure did, and there wasn’t an ounce of chocolatey brown left in his crimson ears.

“Th-that’s actually the stallion’s job…” Regardless of what some ponies may have thought about someone who spent her time throwing parties for every conceivable reason under the sun, Pinkie was quite an innocent mare. It took a few seconds for her already overclocked mind to process what had been said, and what Merry took it to mean, but when comprehension kicked in, it signalled a full and complete meltdown. Sitting bolt upright and blushing head to hoof, Pinkie desperately looked for a distraction, and eventually her eyes spied a likely candidate. Her ice cream, which had long since been forgotten during their meaningful conversation and subsequent cuddles, was applied to her face with pulverizing force, sending bits of cone showering down with a tremendous crunch. The mostly melted ice cream, which had been the only thing around to cool her off, sizzled and steamed against her face, leaving a sherbert-colored brand seared into her cheek, though it offered little by means of relief.

“Pinkie? A-are you-”

“Fine!” she squeaked, not daring to turn around and face Merry. “Fine, fine, fine, absolutely peachy! No need to worry!” There wasn’t, she was right, but that didn’t mean that he wouldn’t. After a prolonged period of silence, Pinkie stole a peek over her shoulder to find Merry sitting facing away with his hooves folded in his lap. Just looking at him seemed to leave her feeling faint, but she couldn’t stand the thought of leaving him to worry, so she gathered what wits hadn’t been consumed in the blaze and made a cautious approach, taking a seat beside him. “Worrying anyways, huh?”

“Just a little,” he conceded ruefully. “You told me that I could be myself, and touch is something that’s really important for me. I didn’t even consider that I might make you uncomfortable somehow because I just felt… yanno, safe with you.”

“Oh, trust me, I know exactly what you’re talking about,” she replied with a reassuring chuckle. “You really put the pillow into those mints, Merry. You’re super duper comfortable.” There was a brief pause. “I guess we should probably lay out some boundaries, huh? Or… should that wait until we’re, yanno… We’re… dating?” The stallion beside her couldn’t help but let a genuine smile light his features as he looked over at Pinkie as she fiddled with her hooves. She couldn’t have been more obvious, and after catching Merry’s expression, she knew she had been even less subtle than she thought.

“Pinkie, what did we do today?”

“Huh?” Confused by the response that was nothing like the one she had expected, she turned towards Merry and stared.

“I asked about what we did today.”

“Oh, um, let’s see,” Pinkie stalled, giving herself time to refocus. “First, you picked me up from the station this morning. From there, we went over to your place to play some games while waiting for the weekly flea market to start. After that, we got some delicious sandwiches from that one place in town, but you wouldn’t let me pay for my food for some reason.”

“Aaand? What else?” he prompted with growing amusement.

“We went to the swap meet, browsed all that cool stuff, hung out with my sisters some, and then you bought me ice cream and led me out here to watch the sunset,” she finished, waiting expectantly for Merry to explain the reason behind his questioning. It wasn’t until he reached over, swabbed the ice cream on her cheek, and playfully licked it from his hoof that the answer struck her like a thunderbolt. “Wait, was this… was today a date?!”

“I heard you liked surprises,” he laughed, winking at the mare. So… surprise~! You are now officially my marefriend. At least, if that’s alright with you?”

“Alright? Alright?! Of course it’s alright!” she squealed with delight, throwing her hooves around his neck. “But, I still wanna hear you ask! Pleeease?”

“It would be my pleasure,” Merry said with a solemn nod. “Pinkie, would you do me the honor of being my marefriend?” It would have been a simple matter to just blurt out an affirmation, and she almost did, but there Merry wasn’t the only one with a surprise that day. Reaching deep into the depths of her mane, she fished around a little before withdrawing three little tiles she had swiped from his house earlier and arranging them in the sand to spell out her response.

“‘Yes’ should really be worth more than six points,” Pinkie murmured affectionately as she set the last piece in place, “‘cause you’re easily a ten.” It would have been difficult for Merry to overstate how profound an impact her response held for him. Compelled by the growing adoration springing from within, Merry bounded over and swept the mare off her hooves, twirling about before collapsing in a giggling heap beside the letters.

“You know what?” he began, gazing intently upon his new companion. “You’re right, that play definitely deserves more than six points, so…” With the fading evening light framing his silhouette, and a moment too perfect to let slip by, Merry gathered Pinkie into his hooves and held her close. The mare shivered with scarcely restrained elation as he dipped his snout and brushed it across her cheek, savoring the softness of her coat and the heavenly scent of her mane. A single, little push was all that was needed for the nuzzle to become something so much more, and they felt themselves ignite together as he pressed his lips against her cheek. Though the kiss didn’t last long, the passion that it had sparked lasted well into the night even after he pulled away, leaned close to her ear, and whispered, “I’ll be your double word score, ‘kay?”

“I think you already are,” she told him with a quiet giggle as she wriggled closer. “‘cause it sure feels like I scored big.”

Author's Notes:

And thus, the first arc was brought to a close...