Sourdough bun, lightly toasted. Vegetable oil spread on the top half, garlic hummus on the bottom half. Peeled, sliced cucumbers and bean sprouts between. One long toothpick through the middle, pinning a single pitted olive to the top. A glass of water to the side.

The water was something of a compromise. The Owner had tried to insist on coffee, but Fluttershy didn’t really drink coffee. Her nerves were already high-strung by default and didn’t need any help from caffeine. She was only hungry, so she’d ordered the sandwich. Still, it was The Cafe and it wouldn’t do to just drink nothing, so she had a glass of water too.

Fluttershy liked booths.

She sat in a small one by the window, sipping from her cup of Compromise. The seat backs formed a protective barrier between herself and everywhere else. A velvety cushioned wall that kept her safe and sound while she sat down and ate her sandwich. Even the window was slightly tinted, allowing her to watch the ponies passing by without fear of them returning her gaze. A pony would have to pass directly by the one open end of the booth in order to notice she was there.

A pony passed directly by the one open end of Fluttershy's booth. This pony halted, and her eyes narrowed. “You.”

Fluttershy froze. Her wings glued themselves to her sides. Her skin prickled as every yellow hair on her neck stood straight on end. She turned, slowly, stiffly, to face the pony who had addressed her in such a tone.

It was one of the farmers from town. Granted, there were many farmers in Ponyville, being a farming town, so this did not narrow Fluttershy's accuser down by much. This particular farmer, though, had a curly orange mane and a coat nearly the same color as Fluttershy's own. This was enough to identify her as Golden... Carrot... Harvey... oh, Fluttershy was terrible at remembering names. But whatever the mare's name was, she fixed Fluttershy with a glare that could peel an onion.

“...M-me?”

“Yes, you.” Without invitation, the scowling mare sat down across the booth from Fluttershy. “You're the reason my crop is ruined!”

Fluttershy did not know how to respond to this. She certainly did not remember ruining anypony's crop, but this mare seemed quite convinced that she had. She stared down at her sandwich. “I'm sorry,” she said.

“You should be.”

The booth was filled with a long, uncomfortable silence. The soft walls no longer kept the world at bay but rather kept Fluttershy trapped here with this angry farmer.

Fluttershy hated booths.

After some time, she cleared her throat to break the silence. The silence yielded only grudgingly. “Um... how did I—?”

“Bunnies.”

“Bunnies?” Fluttershy repeated.

“Bunnies!” The mare banged her hoof on the table, eliciting a frightened yelp from Fluttershy. “Your bunnies got into my carrot patch and ate the sprouts! You owe me ten carrots.”

Fluttershy felt the impulse to protest that they weren't really her bunnies. Bunnies belonged to none but themselves, and they would do as bunnies did. However, this did not seem like a very helpful argument at the moment so she just dropped her gaze to her cup. “I'm sorry. Would... would it help if I bought you something to drink?”

The aggrieved gardener crossed her forelegs and huffed. “I guess it would be a start.”

Fluttershy frowned and fidgeted with her bit purse. The menu never listed prices, but she always seemed to have enough to pay her tab. She wasn’t sure that would hold true if she paid for another pony, though. “What do you think you’ll get?”

The mare glanced at the blackboard menu on the wall and shrugged. “I don’t know. I don’t drink much coffee.”

“I don’t either. I got a glass of water.” Fluttershy held up her glass.

The mare raised a pair of irate eyebrows. “Do you think a glass of water is worth ten carrots?”

Fluttershy’s ears sank. “No.”

Silence returned to the booth like a server checking that everypony's orders were to their liking. Fluttershy tried to shoo it away with a sigh. She met with only marginal success. “Have you considered getting a cat?”

“A cat?”

“A cat.” Fluttershy took a bite of her sandwich. “Lots of farmers have cats.”

The mare blinked once, twice, three times. She looked at the menu again. “A cat…?”

“Oh. No, not to order,” Fluttershy shook her head. “I mean, for your carrot patch.”

“Why would I get a cat for my carrot patch?”

“To keep the bunnies out,” Fluttershy said.

“Oh, yes. Of course.” The mare nodded.

She was quiet for a while except for occasionally tapping her forehooves together. After a long pause, she glanced around the corner of the booth before leaning forward and asking in a low voice, “How does a cat help?”

Fluttershy raised her eyes at this. She swallowed a mouthful of sourdough and bean sprouts. “Do you… do you really not know?”

The carrot farmer shook her head.

“Cats eat bunnies,” Fluttershy said.

The other mare’s face went pale. “They… eat them? I thought cats only ate mice!”

Fluttershy shook her head. “Unless you train them not to, cats will eat any creature smaller than themselves.”

The other mare recoiled from Fluttershy as though she were a monster. “Don't you take care of the bunnies?”

“I also take care of cats.”

The mare sputtered a halting string of disbelieving noises. “I... buh... you can't just... it...”

Fluttershy sipped her water. “You won't have to worry about bunnies eating your carrots.”

“Because the bunnies will be dead!” shouted the mare. “Doesn't that bother you?”

Fluttershy's ears flattened, and she set her water down on the table. “Of course it does. But the bunnies will also die if they can't eat.”

“So I have to sacrifice my carrots for them to live?” the pony asked. “Can't they eat something else?”

“I suppose you’re right,” Fluttershy said. She poked at the olive atop her sandwich. “They could eat the apples in the next orchard over, maybe. Or the turnips in the next field. Or wheat stalks from the field after that. As long as those farmers don’t have cats.”

“They don't have to eat pony food, do they? Can't you just feed them bunny food?”

Fluttershy raised her eyebrows. “What do you think bunny food is made of?”

“Pellets?” the mare guessed.

“The pellets are made out of cabbages. Turnips. Carrots. Pony food.” Fluttershy bit the olive off the toothpick in her sandwich.

The mare tapped her hoof on the table. “What about the forest? There's plenty a bunny can eat in the forest, and they won't ruin anypony's crops there.”

“You're right, the bunnies wouldn't ruin anypony's crops in the forest,” said Fluttershy. “There's lots of berries and roots and all the things that deer and bears eat. And when the deer and bears find all that gone because bunnies ate it, what's to keep them from wandering out of the forest and eating your carrots? They need to eat, too, and a cat can't stop a bear.”

The mare paused. “Do bears eat carrots?”

“Bears eat anything.”

The carrot farmer chewed on her hoof. “What if…” She paused, counting out a calculation into the crook of her foreleg. “What if I just let the bunnies have half of my carrots?”

“That would be very nice of you,” said Fluttershy. “Then only half of the bunnies would starve.”

“Half?” Tears formed the corners of the mare’s eyes. “But… but I can’t give up my whole crop. I need it to live.”

“I know.”

The mare sat there, thinking long and hard. She frowned and rubbed her chin. She leaned back against the velvety wall of the booth. She slumped forward and traced her hoof along the spiral grains of the table. Finally, she buried her hooves in her curly mane in defeat. “So what's the solution, then?”

“The solution?”

“Yeah,” said the mare, giving Fluttershy a pleading look. “What do I do?”

Fluttershy sighed and shook her head. “I’m sorry. There isn't a solution. Everything needs to eat. And that food has to come from somewhere. Carnivores like gryphons or cats can be more direct about it, while ponies like you and me can try and be nice about it, but ultimately you have to take food out of something else's mouth or else starve yourself.”

Fluttershy finished the final bite of her sandwich, swallowed, and gave her booth mate a sad smile. “As for what to do… I think you should consider getting a cat.”

“Huh.” The mare sat back in her seat. “Huh.”

Outside the window, ponies continued on their day. A pair of fillies spent their allowance on gumballs at the candy shop across the street. A construction worker lumbered by with his lunch pail on his back. An old mare gave her pet collie a treat. None of them gave the two ponies in the window booth any notice.

Booths were okay, Fluttershy supposed.

“Miss Golden Harvest?” The Owner appeared at the open end of the booth with an orange tabby curled up asleep on his withers. Fluttershy was so surprised by his sudden appearance that she did not have time to chide herself over the fact that that was the mare's name, how could she forget. “You appear to have had time to consider. Can I take your order?”

Golden Harvest blinked. “Is that… a cat on your back?”

“It is, miss.” The Owner nodded his head. The cat’s ear flicked and he stretched one of his paws out into the air.

Golden chewed her lip. “Could I… could I pet him?”

“Of course, miss.”

Fluttershy had promised to pay Golden’s tab. Her bill that day was for one sandwich, one glass of water, and one orange tabby. She had precisely enough to pay for it.

Author's Notes:

Conversation scribed by Esle Ynopemos.

The Cafe is appreciative for their time.