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Language

by Taialin

Chapter 1: 1. Tell Me the Truth, Darling

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Birds chirping outside, the hum of the radiator, the seconds hand tick of the clock: these are the sounds I hear. I smile in contentment and lean back in my chair. The creak of wood adds itself to the symphony of sounds reaching my ears.

Just about one year ago, my darling Fluttershy taught me to meditate and listen to the sounds of nature, and it has been an immensely useful skill. Her technique not only helped me deal with my everyday stresses, but also helped me pick up on the nonverbal cues animals express to communicate. This skill has been quite useful on Opal for quieting her down when she's annoyed. One sound that I don't hear right now is my cat making a ruckus upst—

"Miiiao!"

. . . I stand corrected. My smile disappears and I open my eyes. I begrudgingly head upstairs to my bedroom where Opal should have been resting. Instead, she's up and about, prowling in a circle on my bed and growling at me.

Frowning, I try to use this technique of mine and close my eyes again to listen. One of her paws is scratching at the bedsheets, and she's repeatedly sheathing and unsheathing her claws. A continuous rumbling growl is coming from her throat.

I open my eyes. She's annoyed because . . . she's hungry, perhaps? Restless? Fatigued? I sigh in resignation; I just don't know. Just because I've practiced picking up on this nonverbal language of animals doesn't mean I've improved much in interpreting it. I do enjoy listening to them, but they're still enigmas to me more often than not. I go to my bedside drawer and retrieve Opal's pet mouse and catnip. Hopefully one of those two staples will appease her for the moment.

When I present the items to her, Opal takes one glance at them, walks away, and lies down on the bed, glaring at me. I shake my head in disappointment and replace the items. At least she's quiet now.

I've had considerably more success at relieving my stress than communicating with animals with this meditation technique. Fluttershy, on the other hoof, is positively a master at both. On the occasions when she comes to my home for a visit, she always somehow coerces Opal to be a darling, cuddly cat.

I sigh and head back down the stairs to the foyer of my Boutique. Fluttershy's meditation has only brought me so far with animals, but I suppose that's fitting. Understanding and caring for animals is her special talent, after all, and it would be a travesty if I were able to match her skill with only a few short months of practice. No, Fluttershy has a gift in animal whispering that I will never be able to match. Animals have never really been my forte, in any case.

I hear the doorbell ring.

My sour mood drops, and I smile at the sound.

Animals are not my forte; ponies, however, are. And Celestia be damned if I didn't find a way to cater this skill to my strength.

I open the door and greet the pony outside. "Hello, Toe Tapper! How lovely to see you outside of rehearsal! I'd like to welcome you to Carousel Boutique, where everything is chic, unique, and magnifique!" I finish the slogan with a toss of my mane. "Please, come in!”

As Toe Tapper walks inside, I lower my head a little and listen closely. As I discovered for myself, ponies express nonverbal language tells just as much as animals do, albeit subconsciously most of the time. Likely owing to my considerable social background, I find these pony tells to be much easier to interpret than animal ones, and Toe Tapper just so happens to be expressing one now. Almost imperceptibly, he's trying to lighten his hoof-falls. The taps of his hooves on my wooden floor are just a bit blunter than they would normally be, like he's flat-footing his steps. He probably doesn't even notice he's doing it, but I do. It means that for whatever he says next, it won't be the entire truth.

I lift my head up, pretending that I noticed nothing. "So then, Toe Tapper, why did you decide to visit my Boutique on this fine day?" I sing.

"Well, Rarity, I know that you make really nice clothes, and I'm just swinging by to see if there's anything here my sister might want," he says.

While he says this, I close my eyes, put a hoof to my chin, and lean in closer. It looks like I'm just thinking deeply, but in reality, I'm listening for Toe Tapper's tells again. His speech delivery is smooth, but his intonation is forced, telling me that there's more to his speech than just the words. I can hear that he's swallowing more often than is necessary, again indicating deception. After he finishes speaking, I can hear him gnash his teeth together a little. That means either anger or nervousness is on his mind, and judging by the rest of his demeanor, I'll guess the latter.

I sneak around to bring my ear closer to his mouth. I find that the sounds of breathing can also be quite revealing. His inhale sounds fine, but I can hear in his exhale a very slight and very fast quaver. It's not the lurching start-and-stop of breath that fear belies, though; it's more like the blissful vibration of breath that escapes one’s mouth when madly in love.

"Ah! These look nice," he says, as he starts to walk to a nearby showcase of designs. As he walks, I hear that one of his back hooves is dragging on the floor longer than the others. It's not enough to see, but enough to hear if one is perceptive. This tell is a bit different; from what I know, it's indicative of fatigue.

Well then. I open my eyes; I think I've found enough. From what I can glean, Toe Tapper is nervously hiding something from me: thoughts of romance, probably. He's also fatigued. Given what day it's getting close to and the half-truths his words tell, I can make a good guess at what Toe Tapper really needs from me.

"Say no more," I say, blocking his way to the showcase with a hoof. "I know exactly what you're here for, darling."

"You do?" he says, turning and looking at me curiously. He cocks his head to the side.

Marvelous acting, Toe Tapper. It’s just too bad that I’m better. "Mhm." I toss my mane once more and walk around him. "You're not here because of your sister, oh no. You're here because Hearts and Hooves Day is drawing near, and you haven't found anything yet to present to your marefriend." I come up to his ear and whisper, "Am I right?"

I hear a loud thump as Toe Tapper's rump suddenly drops to the floor, his hind legs buckling beneath him. "W-whoa," he stutters out. I don't need a response to know my answer. A bit dramatic, perhaps, but this is such a satisfying way to show how astute I’ve become at picking up social cues! "How did you . . . How did you know?" he says quietly.

"Intuition," I respond enigmatically. One must try to keep that air of mystery about a mare, right? Some rumors are floating around town that I can actually read minds. This is one piece of gossip that I do not intend to quash anytime soon!

"Amazing," he whispers.

I cover a chuckle and wink. I take mercy on Toe Tapper and extend my hoof, helping him to his feet. "Come now, darling, no need to hide it from me. I know that you're looking for a gift for your marefriend, and there's no need to be embarrassed about that. If you tell me the truth, then I can really help you, alright?" Let it not be said that I only use my skills to stir up drama.

Toe Tapper looks at me a moment longer with a gaping mouth, then sighs and droops a little. He says, "Alright, you caught me. That's exactly what I'm here for." He sighs again. "I've been looking for days for a gift for Roseluck, but nothing fits. Everything's either too expensive, too gaudy, or too weird. It's our first Hearts and Hooves day together, and I don't want to offend her with whatever I get, y'know? What if she doesn't like it and . . . and breaks up with me or something?"

I put a hoof on Toe Tapper's shoulder for support. "I understand. Buying a gift for your marefriend can be difficult at the best of times." I smile warmly and suggest to him, "Tell you what. I know Roseluck myself fairly well, as a matter of fact, so I can give you some advice. How long have you been dating her, darling?"

"About . . ." Toe Tapper flicks his eyes to the ceiling and taps out a rhythm with his front hoof. "Six months, I'd say."

"Six months, you say." I nod idly in contemplation. "And you have been going steadily all this time?"

"Yeah, but this is the first big gift I've ever thought about getting for her. I don't want to mess it up," Toe Tapper frets. The teeth gnashing he doesn't know he's doing is starting to grate on my nerves. "I love her so much. I don't want to offend her with something she doesn't like."

"Dear, calm down. I can tell that you're nervous right now," I say, putting a hoof on his back. I start doing some of the breath exercises we do as warm-ups when rehearsing with the Ponytones. He joins me in the breath exercises before long, and eventually he stops gnashing his teeth.

I continue. "There we go. Let me tell you what I know about Roseluck, and since you've been with her for so long, you should really know this too: she's not a flighty mare. She lends affection to all her patrons, but only her love to the special ones. 'Keepers,' as they say. If Roseluck has been with you for this long, a poorly-chosen gift will not take her away from you." I pat Toe Tapper on the back. "She loves you too much for that."

Toe Tapper looks up slowly. His frown on his face and sigh on his breath still bespeaks of apprehension, but the glint in his eyes shows hope. "Are you sure, Rarity? I really don't want you to be wrong about this."

I nod. I've read and studied romance and romance books all my life, and I've advised dozens of ponies on what moves they should make. Toe Tapper presents a classic example of overthinking a relationship. No, if the relationship is built on consummate love, no single gift can change that. "Quite sure, darling. Though, if you're willing to entertain my suggestions, I could recommend a few designs that you—and she—would enjoy."

Toe Tapper says nothing for several more minutes. He's clearly thinking hard about what I've just said. I wait patiently for him to make a decision. Eventually, he finds his voice:

"Okay.”

Next Chapter: 2. Can You Hear Her Wispy Breath? Estimated time remaining: 39 Minutes
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