I had a strange dream last night:

I was walking and all around me was nothingness. I don't remember why I was walking, but I remember how strange it was. Like, you know how when you dream, sometimes you're watching yourself, but you know it’s still you, making the movements and decisions. So, I was watching myself as I walked and it looked like I was walking in a circle. While I was walking I continued to walk past my family, all my brothers and sister and parents. I walked past one of the librarians. Somehow I knew it was her, though it looked nothing like her from what I saw. I walked past my bedroom, my desk and bookshelf, then instantly right past my father's workplace, the wood mill. I remember seeing the wheel turning in the river, but it was silent.

Once I passed it I stopped walking. Then I heard something. It was music. In the dream I couldn't remember where I'd heard it, or why I recognized it. Wide awake in my dark bedroom, I know it was a campfire song from the camp where I had met Loaf. It came from behind me and I looked back but saw nothing. Nothing I had walked past previously was there, just the song. It didn't sound like anyone singing, or any instruments, just the tune, from nowhere, but still behind me. I wanted to follow it, then I saw an ice cream cone float in front of me. It stayed there for a second, floating silently, then moved downward ahead of me. It followed a line that I don't remember seeing before, but somehow know it was the circle path I had been following. I watched as the ice cream fell forward and curved in the shape of the circle above.

I woke up after that and came right over to my desk to write about it. It's obviously symbolic of my life, how I live with the knowledge that I used to – maybe still am – walking in circles, surrounded by things I'm comfortable around. Then the music, and the ice cream, obviously means I need to move forward without forgetting my past, not all the way. I think, anyway. But, the ice cream was obviously Minty Swirl, so does that mean I need to follow her, or just follow her lead? Learn from her example, follow my dream? Or, literally go with her to Bucksfield?

I'm going back to bed. It's too early to be awake, so I'm told, but I want to see if the dream continues. Maybe shed some more light on my future? Maybe Princess Luna will be there, and maybe she'll help me on my way.

I've always admired Luna. I just like the moon more, I don't really know why. Anyway, good night for now.

I couldn't get back to sleep. I couldn't stop thinking about the dream, trying to add to it myself, then chastising myself for messing with it. I'm glad I wrote it down, because after the rest of last night I doubt I'd actually remember how it went. There was a full moon, too, and that was pretty distracting.

Anyway, I went to Churner to ask for work. He accepted.

"Yeah, I could use some help around here." The shop was miniscule, virtually a lean-two with a door. He had two "butter mills" he called them, which kind of caught me off-guard but he didn't notice my discomfort, the thought of working at the mill after everything... Besides, I’m pretty sure they’re just called churns. "Best butter comes from slowly adding the cold cream while maintaining a steady motion," he explained while heading back to a station. "You can be to one who pours the sweet cream–” he points to the first churn, "—or the salted cream—" he points to the other, "—while I keep up the pace. Other than that, you can count right?"

"Yes, sir," I reply quickly.

"Good, then you can also manage purchases." He steps over to a medium-sized ice chest in the wall. "Salted butter is four bits, sweet is just three. If they ask for less than a pound, half is worth half, round up."

Duh, I think.

"Every extra half-pound is worth an extra bit. Be sure to count the bits every time. Frosty Swirl didn't always count 'em." He shook his head, more ashamed than angry. "I'll give you four bits at the end of every week, depending on business. Sound good?"

"It sounds perfect, sir," even a bit much, but that was fine with me. Somehow, though, I felt like more often business would be slow and I'd get less than promised. Regardless of details, as long as I got paid for pouring cream and counting coins.

"Great," he stamped a hoof in agreement. "We're closed today. Usually not, but the Swirlys are moving and they need a stallion for the big stuff."

I'd never heard him sound so silly. "Swirlys?" I ask with a grin.

"Yes," he said, like it was obvious. It was, but it sounded strange. "Minty and Frosty," he smiles, "my girls."

That struck me as strange. In fact nothing he'd said today suggested he'd ever disagreed with Frosty. Minty had always made it seem like they were constantly at each other's throats. "Well," I started, before fully thinking through what I was about to say. "Umm, did you, maybe, need some more help? Moving them, I mean."

"No thanks sport," he rested a hoof on my shoulder. "It's not much. Besides, I gotta say my goodbyes."

Again I'm stricken dumb. Was this really how he was about them? Did he act differently around them? Or around me? I wish he'd allowed me to go, I wanted some clarity from Minty. In fact, I need some clarity. Had she lied to me? Why, of all things, would she lie about a happy family? I didn't want to be angry at her, didn't want to lose my only friend over a loving father.

I smile to Churner, "Well, 'goodbye' always sounds too serious. It's not like you'll never see them again."

"Hmm..." he turns to the ice box. I had nearly forgotten; he's only at the shop today to check the butter. Old butter doesn't sell as well. There's only one pound of sweet butter in there, so he takes it. Better than leaving it here over the weekend. "Knowing Frosty Swirl..." he doesn't finish the thought, but his tone says plenty. Was Minty's mother the real problem? Was she moving away with the wrong pony?

"Oh, okay," I mumble. "Well, I'll see you next week, Churner."

"I look forward to it!"

I turn to leave, him waving at me like a preschool play pal. There's so much I don't know, so much that Minty's left out. For a second I feel guilty, since I've kept so much from her. Then I get upset, because the stuff I've kept hidden was just more depressing. This... These two ponies, they're the opposite of how she described them. What did I do wrong?