Rainbow Dash would never admit to wanting to get away from the Shy’s serene house, and that oft-obsessed layabout of a stallion; in fact, she has the latest Daring Do escapade packed away just in case things got a touch too, well, boring. And not in the digging way Doug often jokes about with Rarity, much to her delight that she tries to hide with a long-suffering smile and roll of the eyes, but in actual interminable tedium. She’s not sure how Doug keeps up with each of them, how he manages to stay interested in what each of them are up to; she struggles to pay attention to her weather work, and she gets paid to be interested in that. She’d much rather be obsessing about the Wonderbolts, pushing her body to its (temporarily lowered) limits, and hitting the sack. Napping! To recover, of course!

She’s not sure what to think of Zephyr’s predicament, if being an all-too-willing love battery for a changeling actually is a predicament. She knows he has potential, when she had seriously considered his self-infatuated and all-too-obvious propositions, but he lacked the drive to follow through on his lofty ambitions - and clearly hasn’t gotten any better. But Fluttershy seems okay with him no longer pursuing his mane styling degree, and it hardly seems like Fluttershy’s place to push, much less Dash’s.

And while she might feign interest in any number of subjects, she could not hide her desire to meet up with Stormy Flare and Sleethoof. Her wings twitch, itching to burst ahead. Yet that would leave the other two pegasi in the dust, and Mrs. Shy is leading the way. Slowly, of course. So slowly.

Her heart skips a beat as The Tracks come into view. How many days had she spent winding her way through the training courses and introductory flight classes at the bottom of the tiered racecourses, figuratively - and oftentimes literally - zooming ahead to such a degree that she skipped up a year? It was there she met Fluttershy and earned her cutie mark through winning a race with stakes against the bullies that had been pestering her newfound friend. Not everypony celebrated her success, as few of her peers appreciated her cocky confidence bolstered by the loud cheers of her proud parents.

Parents she has barely seen, even when Cloudsdale’s flight path drifted over Ponyville. She puts the thought out of her mind just as quickly.

The top stands come into view, row upon row of tiered stadium seats, the cold and uncomfortable metal a necessity in case non-pegasi want to watch. She shudders at the memory of when she won the Best Young Fliers competition. The elation of saving her herdmate and two of the three Wonderbolts the flailing unicorn knocked out was so embittered by what could have happened that even cider couldn’t completely wash out the taste. And she tried, after the fact, knocking back one glass after another as the six Wonderbolts in attendance - Spitfire, Soarin, Misty Fly, Blaze, Fire Streak, and Silver Zoom - raced her into submission. But what a rush it was, even if she lost every time!

Dozens upon dozens of specks of color slowly make their way to those stands, and with a start Rainbow Dash spots why. The Wonderbolts are there!

If her heart swelled at seeing The Tracks, it nearly bursts at seeing them. The Wonderbolts. They are the culmination of what she has worked toward for so long, years and years of practice with that singular goal in mind, spoiled by delays and setbacks. Even if other goals and responsibilities have taken their place in her life, responsibilities she has no intention of setting down, she still has that burning desire in her heart to one day join the prestigious division and prove herself.

All she wants to do is watch, even if all they are doing is warming up. Those distinctive blue and yellow uniforms spin around and around and around in ever tightening circles, the grave looks on everypony’s face tightening and straining until they simultaneously burst apart.

Except one bursts apart too early, yellow wings folding abruptly as her two-toned blue mane sags in frustration. Rainbow Dash has a sinking suspicion of who it is: Misty Fly, one of the ‘Bolts Rarity clocked into unconsciousness. And that’s not a good sign, not at all, and she hopes whoever is on reserve is ready to pick up the slack if Misty can’t get it in gear.

When the maneuver finishes they come together, fiery-maned Captain Spitfire (omygosh omygosh omygosh!) exchanging a couple of serious-looking words. The uniforms don’t quite cover the scowls of the others. Rainbow Dash wishes she could fly up there and just listen, the awesome Captain sure to have some inspirational speech that will get the group back on track!

While Rainbow Dash wants to watch the Wonderbolts practice, Mrs. Shy’s course isn’t taking them to the stands; instead, to her chagrin, it’s taking them to the Wunder Bar! Which, come to think of it, makes sense, as Sylvia said they would be getting lunch. The W-shaped restaurant and bar, tilted so every table can watch the action, caters to the ‘Bolts and their biggest fans. Most days attendance would be low, just die-hards come to hang out, but on days when the aerial aces grace Cloudsdale with their presence?

The casually-dressed and flair-laden changeling server recognizes Mrs. Shy and points them to one of the tops of the ‘W’. Even in the packed place it’s easy for Rainbow Dash to spot Mr. Shy and the other two mares of his herd. The green stallion, clad in his work uniform of a light blue half-suit, looks ready to hit the hay: his green eyes struggle to stay open while his swirly light pink mane sags lower and lower before snapping back up. Stormy Flare and Sleethoof are far more animated, the two yellow pegasi arguing back and forth. It’s easy to tell which is which, with Stormy Flare’s orange and yellow mane, a shade darker than her filly Spitfire’s, and Sleethoof’s teal and sky blue, also a shade darker than Misty Fly. Both are wearing snazzy suits, purple on Stormy Flare that accents her pearl necklace and earrings, and dark blue on Sleethoof, a Winter Specialist.

Their keen eyes notice her before she can introduce herself. “Hey,” Stormy Flare greets curtly. Rainbow Dash wonders if any lingering animosity is from way back when she was beating Spitfire in the Junior Racers, because she quickly goes back to arguing while stealing glances at the Wonderbolt practice session. They must have seen the same lapse Rainbow did. “I’m not saying it’s a disabling condition yet,” Stormy Flare contends to her herdmate, “but it’s not one that’s going to get better with time.”

“It’s her choice,” Sleethoof retorts just as forcefully. “And if the doctor gives her the okay, then who are we to argue?”

The conversation intrigues Rainbow Dash greatly. It reminds her of when, years ago, she would have made it into the Wonderbolts if not for Scootaloo, and even then she had a chance. A chance she never regrets passing up, but she occasionally wonders what might have happened had she tried anyway. But they can’t be talking about her, can they? She butts in with a chipper, “Who’re you talking about?”

“Hey, Dash.” Sleethoof eyes the pegasus with the impertinence to sit down at their table, but then her gaze slides behind Rainbow in a manner most aggravating. “Syl!” she greets, a split second ahead of Stormy Flare. She smiles, but in an aggressively persuasive way. “We need you to settle this!”

“Oh, dear,” Mrs. Shy says as two servers hustle an extra table next to Stormy Flare’s, making room for all of them. Rainbow Dash is impressed with the service, second only to what she imagines they would give to actual Wonderbolts. Mrs. Shy takes a deep breath as she sits in the middle, her herdmates on each side and leaving the new table for Rainbow Dash and Fluttershy. “What is it this time?”

“It’s about Misty,” Sleethoof explains, her concerned tone drawing a frown from Stormy Flare. “Stormy here wants her to retire if she can’t keep up.”

“She can keep up,” Stormy Flare says, adopting just as concerned a tone. Rainbow Dash strongly suspects their weird argumentation method - it sounds nothing like when she and Doug disagree - has to do with winning their lead mare’s support. “It’s not about that. The question is what she will have to put herself through to do so. If it’s worth the risk.”

“Oh, my,” Mrs. Shy says. Rainbow Dash snickers at how similar Fluttershy sounds to her when she gets worried. “Now, you know I’m not a doctor.”

“We’re not saying you would determine if it’s too dangerous,” Sleethoof says, keeping most of the sarcasm from her voice. “But when the risk becomes too much. And that should be her choice, what level of danger she accepts. Her doctor can tell her how dangerous it is, but it’s ultimately her call.”

Rainbow Dash, hovering barely above her seat, pays attention to the conversation while watching the six ‘Bolts go through a steep turn. Five of the six have their lightning jets on, spewing sparkling smoke behind them, while the two-toned blue mane has hers off. Not a good sign, not at all: it means the outlier is more than a hoof-length out of position, and has accordingly turned her jets off.

“That’s certainly a tough decision,” Mrs. Shy starts.

“But it’s her decision,” Sleethoof interjects.

“Let her finish,” Stormy Flare reprimands. Sleethoof huffs, but goes silent.

Mrs. Shy offers Stormy Flare a quick smile. “What do you think, Rainbow Dash? You went through something similar.”

“Twice, actually. Three times if you count this one.” Rainbow Dash grits her teeth, though not because of the conversation. The six Wonderbolts again regroup as the maneuver finishes, this time joined by a blood-colored doctor she recognizes as Dr. Vacuum Suction, more commonly known as M. D. Vac, though his cutie mark is of a white dove instead of an aspirator. She’s heard he would sign off on a pegasus with two broken wings just to see how far she can fly, but also that he is capable of patching up said pegasus to pristine condition.

“If her decision only impacted her,” Rainbow Dash says as she turns her attention to the four yellow pegasi at her table, “then I would agree. It’s her call.” Sleethoof smirks, but it’s short lived. “But her decision doesn’t only impact her.” She points at the five contrails, the absence of the sixth obvious. “If she messes up, it might just be a botched performance. Or somepony could get seriously hurt. Or worse. If there was somepony I couldn’t count on?” She grimaces, showing how much she doesn’t want that to be the case. “Then I wouldn’t want them on my team. And I think the others on her team should have that say.”

“But if she pushes herself,” Sleethoof argues, “she’ll make it. She knows she can!”

“You don’t know that,” Stormy Flare counters, “and neither does she.”

Their arguing grates on Rainbow Dash’s nerves; she’s amazed the two pugilistic pegasi can stay together, but at least they have Sylvia to settle their disagreements in a fair manner. She would find it super frustrating if she was always arguing like this with Applejack, and her lead mare used that position as a cudgel.

“It should be-”

“It looks like it’s a moot point,” Rainbow Dash interrupts.

High above, Misty Fly slips from their circle of ‘Bolts with the barest of goodbyes. A turquoise-winged pegasus, the reservist, joins the five ‘Bolts at the doctor’s beckoning call. She flips her orange and yellow mane, a confident smirk on her muzzle. Rainbow Dash knows that mane, and those wings, and she knows the orange eyes behind the blue-tinted goggles would be burning with a desire to finally prove herself.

For it could be none other than Lightning Dust, the best filly in their flight class (at least, after Derpy’s vision started to go) until Rainbow Dash overtook her for the coveted spot. Well deserving of that top spot, too, with a daring (some called it recklessness) unmatched by any of her peers. When Gilda came to Equestria as part of a student exchange it was Lightning Dust who went to the Griffon Kingdom, and judging by the chatter about her time at the Academy her heedless nature has only been honed. Her risk-taking sure seems to have paid off, though, climbing from recruit to reservist to actually performing in a show in a matter of months. Rainbow Dash can’t help but be impressed, knowing how hard she will need to push herself to keep the same pace.

But what doesn’t impress her is how M. D. Vac escorts Misty Fly off with little affection and less ceremony. Rainbow Dash can’t believe it, that they would dismiss a seasoned ‘Bolt in such an ignoble manner, without even waving goodbye. And yet they do, quickly getting into formation and putting Lightning Dust through the wringer.

Completely ignoring the ‘Bolt slinking down to a nearby cloud, her hoof held against her head.

Sleethoof lets out a long and disappointed sigh before turning to address Rainbow Dash with an expression that shouldn’t possibly be so chipper after what she just witnessed. “So, Rainbow Dash! It’s been a long time; how’s herded life treating you?”

Rainbow Dash finds her list of things she can’t believe rapidly overflowing. How could somepony regard their filly with such contempt? Such utter disregard, even if they couldn’t make the cut? Somepony should make sure Misty Fly is okay; if it isn’t her dam, or her fellow ‘Bolts, then it might as well be her.

She stares at Sleethoof for a long moment before muttering, “Excuse me,” and flying out of the Wunder Bar, straight to the solitary cloud.

Next Chapter: Ch. 169 - Natural Affinity, Part Four Estimated time remaining: 5 Hours, 26 Minutes