Clad in a form-fitting blue and yellow jumpsuit – so tight, in fact, that the material was liable to hug some of the more interesting spots of a pony's anatomy – that glittered in a most captivating fashion in the early afternoon sunlight, the new recruit descended toward the floating island that housed the Wonderbolts Reserves' training compound muzzle-first, frizzy bangs flapping around in the self-created maelstrom, goggle-protected eyes bright with focus; with their legs tucked primly against their underside and their wings closed against their body, there was very little friction to slow them down. If they didn't pull out of the dive within a hair of a split-second, well, they would soon be eating asphalt … followed by a month or two of eating through a straw while their broken jaw was wired shut.

        Watching the spectacle through her trademark sunglasses, Spitfire almost smiled. Almost. To do so would be unprofessional, no matter how giddy she may have felt on the inside.

        Had it been any other pony but this one, she would've been halfway across the runway by now – maybe pausing briefly to offer a sardonic comment over her shoulder as she heard the sound of bone hitting ground – in order to alert Doctor Sorders that yet another show-boating rookie was going to need their head screwed back on. Along with half a year of intense physical therapy.

        But this was no regular pony at work here.

        Spitfire had been intrigued when this particular application had landed on her desk a few months earlier; the score for the written portion of their test had been perfect, and they had shown an impressive knowledge of the Wonderbolts' history into the bargain, too. They were an excellent flyer, they was full of bravery and determination, they were respectful of tradition, but did that make them an ideal candidate for the Wonderbolts?

        Well, there was only one way to find out, wasn't there?

        True, there had been a couple of mistakes made along the way – hence the rather unfortunate nickname that they had been lumbered with, though Spitfire knew that her own wasn't much better and she was always careful to avoid any mention of it in polite company – but they had proven themselves time and time again to be one of the finest fliers produced by Cloudsdale's flight academy.

        Sooner or later, and Spitfire hoped that it would be sooner, though their ascension would require a current Wonderbolt to retire or take on another, non-flying, role in the organisation, they would be called up to the full squad.

        The split-second came and went in the blink of an eye that was visible only to pegasi; the cadet, in a manoeuvre that was executed more smoothly than a hot knife carving through butter, pulled themselves gracefully out of the steep dive and into a shallow curve that allowed them to fully extend their wings like a parachute to arrest their momentum. Almost daintily, they landed on the runway.

        “Show-off,” said Spitfire, approaching the cadet. There was no trace of malice or reproach in her words, only the merest hint of envy. She had been a Wonderbolt for close to a decade now, and in her heart Spitfire knew that she just didn't have the wings to pull of a stunt like that any more. Clearing her throat and continuing in a tone more befitting a captain, she added, “I can safely say that you've passed the practical part of the test, Cadet Fluttershy. Congratulations, you're officially a member of the Wonderbolt Reserve.” Just the slightest hint of emotion playing on her muzzle, she patted Fluttershy on the withers.

        “Oh, thank you so much, Spi... er, ma'am,” Fluttershy said, flushing slightly at the faux pas, trying to maintain a steely mien. “I appreciate the confidence you've shown in me, especially after what happened on that first day.”

        “Heh,” Spitfire said, her composure deserting her for a moment as she allowed herself a slight chuckle. “Nopony has a good first day, though, so don't worry too much about it. You'll just have to get used to everypony around here calling you Butterhooves for the rest of your life, however.”

        On mention of that name, Fluttershy's flush deepened into a full-blown blush, but she shook it off quickly and stood proudly at attention, determined not to let anything ruin this moment. Before the first practice run for the new recruits last month, some errant janitor had used a bit too much zest – to say nothing of far too much detergent – when cleaning the runway; thus, when she had come in for her landing, Fluttershy had found herself skidding across the asphalt as if it were made of ice and had gone sailing into the wild blue yonder. The other recruits had found this so hilarious that they'd nicknamed her Butterhooves, and nicknames had the regrettable tendency to stick when the Wonderbolts were involved.

        Still, she had a lot of experience in dealing with cruel nicknames; this, however, was different as it created a sense of camaraderie amongst the team. They all had their silly stories to tell, they all had their humiliations forever embroidered on their outfits.

        “Rainbow Dash would be so proud to see you right now,” said Spitfire, “not least because she'd be thrilled with that new haircut of yours.”

        For just a moment, Fluttershy's smile flagged, but she quickly recovered it. “Well, it does make flying easier when you don't have an unruly mop blowing in your face every moment.” Quickly, to hide the tears prickling at the corners of her eyes, she turned her muzzle heavenwards and thought about her old friend. Twilight Sparkle had tried to explain to her shortly after the funeral that, when a pony died, their latent magical reserve was released from their body, and it in turn became a part of the magical field that surrounded Equestria. She couldn't pretend to fully understand the mechanics of it, but what Fluttershy took from Twilight's words was that Rainbow Dash, somehow, was still out there somewhere, watching over her just as she'd done while she'd been alive.

        I hope, wherever you are, that you're proud of me.