Zinnia lay back atop Trixie’s caravan, watching the clouds roll by as the little wooden home-on-wheels trundled along the old dirt path. Glancing over the side, the young woman recalled how the Showmare had surprised her, a simple flare ‘spell’ calling forth a pair of Mudbray from the woods that she proceeded to fasten to a harness clearly meant for pulling the caravan behind them. While it had crossed her mind that these ‘Ponies’ may have encountered the Pokemon of this world at some point, this level of cooperation had left her both confused and impressed. She wasn’t sure just why it had confused her, but it had.

Trixie had been silent throughout the process, though. And as Zinnia peered at the showmare, who sat on the entrance step to her caravan guiding the Mudbray, she idly wondered if it was because she was used to being alone while travelling, or if it was something she had said.

Turning onto her back once again, Zinnia returned to her cloud-gazing, her eyes tracking a flock of Tailow as they passed overhead.

“Hey, Trix?” she called suddenly, stretching her leg out a little.

“Hmm?” Trixie hummed in response.

“You ever wanted to fly?”

The showmare went to answer, a witty remark already on the tip of her tongue… before she paused. Granted, flight wasn’t too far out of anypony’s reach in Equestria, what with a Pegasus’ natural ability to do so and the fact that many Flying-Type Pokemon were friendly enough to ride if trust was built. But Zinnia wasn’t from Equestria - or anywhere on Equus for that matter.

“Trix- I mean, I suppose…” she began, chewing the inside of her cheek as she searched for the words. Looking to the skies, a small smile appeared on her lips. “I suppose anypony would want that,” she allowed. “I mean, there’s always the thought of ‘What if?’ Everypony knows that.”

“Yeah, I guess so,” Zinnia muttered, staring after the flock for a time before pushing herself to her feet atop the caravan. Trixie let out a startled yelp as the Draconid dropped onto the steps next to her, taking a seat as if nothing had happened.

“So tell me,” she began, resting her elbows on her knees as she watched the Mudbray plod along. “Where exactly are we going?”

“Well, I need to look for work,” Trixie replied, relaxing in her makeshift seat. “The best place for that in the past has been Manehatten, they seem to enjoy theatrics quite a bit in that city. Especially in Bridleway. Applewood is closer, though, so I’m going to try there first.”

Zinnia remained silent for a few moments before a short snicker forced its way past her lips. As soon as that happened, the proverbial floodgates opened, and Zinnia burst out laughing, a loud, unrestrained cacophony of joyous sound that seemed to spook any birds in the immediate area with its sudden arrival. For her part, Trixie merely sat there, turning to look at the woman with a bewildered expression.

As she managed to calm down, Zinnia smiled widely. “Whew! Wow, those names are bad,” she chuckled, coughing slightly to stop herself falling into another fit of laughter. “Anyway… What sort of shows do you do?”

Trixie took a moment to watch Zinnia, seemingly waiting for another outburst before she answered. “Why, magic of course. The Great and Powerful Trixie puts on the most dazzling spectacles this side of Canterlot or any other!”

Zinnia had to cover her mouth to stop herself from laughing again, taking a breath to steady herself. “So you… what, break out of straight jackets? Do card tricks?”

“Foal’s play!” Trixie barked, her horn sparking to life as her hat flew from within the caravan to rest atop her head. “Trixie astounds the masses with tales of wonder! Visions of creatures they can only dream of, vanquished by the great hero!”

“Oh, so you’re a theatrical storyteller,” Zinnia summarised, nodding to herself even as Trixie seemed to almost deflate.

“Yes, I’m a storyteller,” she sighed, pulling the brim of her hat over her eyes. “Way to make it sound like I’m better suited for children’s parties…”

“Wait, what?” Zinnia asked aloud, eyes widening in slight panic. “Nononononono! That’s not what I meant at all! Everyone needs stories!” Silence fell for a time as Trixie stared at the road ahead, her companion fidgeting nervously in worry, casting concerned glances her way every now and then. After a while, Trixie sighed, sitting up as she waved her hand idly in front of her.

To Zinnia’s surprise, a small, screen-like window of light pink magic appeared, shimmering slightly as pictures seemed to scroll across its surface. Images of what she could only assume was an infant Trixie, running around a large, lush garden with another young girl as an older mare watched on with a smile. What caught her off guard, however, was the differences in clothing. The unknown girl was dressed in high-end, clearly designer clothes, light and decorative. Trixie, however, seemed like she was lucky to have what she did, and even then it was a pair of torn shorts and a top that looked about three years older than herself. And the mare watching - who bore a striking resemblance to Trixie herself - was dressed in a maid’s uniform of all things.

“Trixie always liked stories as a little girl,” Trixie said, staring into the magical screen herself. “They told Trixie of far off lands, where even the smallest of ponies could be the biggest of heroes. They gave Trixie hope.”

Zinnia could only blink as she watched the showmare blink back tears. Looking back to the screen, she saw Young Trixie doing much the same as she knelt huddled on the ground, covering herself desperately as tattered fabrics fell to the ground. The other girl with her moved in a panic as she tried to cover Trixie up with her jacket.

“Hope that Trixie could help,” Trixie continued. “Trixie could live with old clothes. She could live with tears and rips.” Sighing, the showmare turned back to the path ahead as the image zoomed in on the maid in the back, with tears streaking down her powder-blue cheeks. “She couldn’t live with her mother’s sadness.”

Zinnia shifted in her seat awkwardly. “Look, Trixie-” she began, only to pause when Trixie raised her hand again. The window before her rippled, the scene changing to a small, cramped room with a single bed pushed against the wall. Makeshift toys sat lined up along a small chest, ranging from a stuffed blue bear - clearly hand-made - to a magic wand carved from wood.

“That’s why Trixie started telling stories,” Trixie said, carrying on as though her companion hadn’t uttered a word. “Trixie would spin tales of wonder for her mother. She would always bring a smile to her mother’s face before bed, even when mother got… weaker…”

“Okay, stop,” Zinnia cut in suddenly, shooing the magical window away frantically. Turning bodily, she placed a hand on Trixie’s shoulder. “Look, Trixie, you don’t have to tell me all this. I… I’m not even sure why you did, if I’m honest.”

Trixie remained quiet for a moment, staring blankly back at her before letting out a shuddering sigh. “I… I just wanted you to understand…”

“I do,” Zinnia assured her, leaning over to pull the showmare into an awkward hug. “Trust me, I do.”

Nodding quietly, Trixie returned the hug before the two women separated, returning their attention to the road ahead. Silence reigned for the longest time until Zinnia let out an exasperated groan.

“Now I feel like I should share something too,” she groaned, burying her face in her hands.

“Why?” Trixie asked, glancing over curiously. “You’re not required to show your inner demons just because Trixie showed hers.”

“You did it again,” Zinnia muttered idly before looking up, catching the faintest blush on the showmare’s cheeks. “And… I dunno, it feels really awkward now. Like, it's only fair that I do it too.”

“You don’t have to,” Trixie offered. “If you choose to, that’s fine, but don’t feel like you have to.”

Leaning back, Zinnia took a deep breath before letting it out slowly. She remained quiet for a time, fingers drumming on her knees as she searched her mind… and spoke.

“I'm a paranoid sociopathic orphan who spent the last three - maybe four - years of my life in a mental asylum for the safety of the public,” she droned, voice impassioned as she stared into the distance. “My last memories of my parents include my father standing over my mother as she lay in a pool of red - I thought it was weird water back then, stupid me. My brother stood between me and him. Then we were in an orphanage.”

Trixie looked at Zinnia with wide eyes for a time, seemingly trying to judge if she was serious before slowly placing her hand on the girl’s shoulder. “I… I’m sorry…”

Zinnia merely shrugged. “Eh, don’t be,” she replied easily, turning her attention back to the two Mudbray plodding along rhythmically. “That was a long time ago. I came to terms with it.”

Trixie nodded, and the pair fell into silence once again, though no awkward airs fell between them. The sounds of nature soon filled the gap, birds chirping as they flew across the sky.

“Guess we both had pretty bad childhoods, then,” Trixie offered eventually.

“Yeah,” Zinnia agreed, blowing air through her lips.

Silence dropped again, and this time, neither girl seemed inclined to break it. Zinnia leaned back against the caravan’s door, once again staring into the vast sky, crimson eyes darting to every detail that crossed her vision. Trixie, meanwhile, set about gently correcting their course, as the Mudbray had slowly drifted from the road towards a particularly muddy looking patch of dirt and were happily stomping their hooves around as they plodded along.

Lunch came and went with the sun at it's highest point, a shared meal of beans and boiled vegetables, with scraps of shredded meat mixed in for Zinnia’s need and Trixie’s guilty pleasure. During this time, the girls shared a laugh as their four-legged companions found another puddle for a cooling mud bath.

“So about these stories,” Zinnia began, pausing to chew on another piece of chicken from her bowl. “What kinda stories d’ya tell?”

“Oh, fantastic tales of adventure and heroism!” Trixie replies, setting her own empty dish aside and standing as she began to gesticulate wildly with her hands. “Long expeditions into the great unknown! Fierce battles against deadly creatures! Whimsical tales of passion and romance!”

Zinnia watched as Trixie leapt to her hoof-like feet, the powder-blue mare soon pacing around with wild gestures, casting images into the air around them as she seemed to almost fall into one of the stories she so loved to tell. This particular one was of a beautiful, blue-skinned mare with a mane of starlight silver as she tracked down and tamed a rampaging Ursa Major - the image of which caused Zinnia no small amount of alarm when she realised it was a bear the size of a castle that seemed to be built from magic and Stardust.

It was as she stared at the great, imposing image of the star-bear when Zinnia realised that Trixie has fallen quiet. Tearing her eyes from the image before her, Zinnia looked to Trixie, and found herself shocked as the showmare seemed to stare at her own creation with what almost seemed an air of shame.

“Trixie… I messed up, one day…” she muttered, staring at the beast. “I was doing a show in Ponyville… and I started showing off, telling this story…”

Tears formed in Trixie’s eyes, slowly dripping down her cheeks as a choked sob broke from her throat.

“I f-forgot… forgot to tell them… that these were just s-stories…” she stammered. “Two of the k-kids in town, they went of into the w-woods…”

As Trixie fell into quiet sobs, Zinnia’s mind raced. For as much as she played the aloof, disinterested role, she noticed things, and the pieces quickly fell into place from why she’d been told.

“They tried to fight one themselves, didn’t they?” Zinnia asked, staring up at the slowly fading image of the star-bear. Trixie’s sobs only grew. “Hey, Trixie…” she began, before faltering. What could she say to this? Nothing, was the answer. She was new to this world, new to it's struggles and customs. If she tried to push her own views on things… she could just make things worse.

And so Zinnia sat in awkward silence, frozen by fear and awkwardness as her new and only friend in this world cried her heart out over past mistakes, with no idea on how to even begin to help. Minutes passed, and when Trixie grew quiet, Zinnia looked over to find the mare with her head lolling onto her arms, knees tucked to her chin, gently dozing after crying herself to sleep.

Zinnia sighed, climbing to her feet and moving to Trixie’s side. Kneeling down, she scooped the mare gently into her arms, taking little notice of the ease with which she did so as she turned towards the caravan and carried Trixie to her bed inside. She re-emerged moments later, a borrowed purple jacket covering her bare shoulders and the blue top replaced with a black tee shirt. She looked over the campaign tiredly, slowly moving about to tidy everything away and extinguish their cooking fire, bringing the two Mudbray around for their own sleep.

Once finished, Zinnia sat with a heavy sigh on the caravan’s steps, staring once more into the night sky above.

“Like hell I could sleep now…” she mutters darkly, brows furrowed in frustration. She sat there for a few minutes more, simply staring at the stars above, before pushing to her feet with an agitated grunt and storming into the woods.