While Rainbow Dash might have departed with the best of intentions, by the time she actually gets to the solitary cloud second thoughts have crept in like Everfree storms about to spoil an otherwise perfect summer afternoon. How many audience members are watching her instead of the practice? What is she even going to say? Doubt gnaws at her as she pulls up, hovering a moment before she would land next to the wind-tossed mane blending into the cloud. Can she do anything to help at all? But before she can leave with her tail between her legs Misty Fly cracks an eyelid, her face scrunching up in confusion.

“Rainbow Dash?” The fallen ‘Bolt lets loose a sharp snort as she struggles to her hooves. She hesitates before lifting her teal goggles, revealing unsteady aquamarine eyes. “Not the pony I thought would be up here. Not that I don’t want to see you!” She sighs heavily. “But I don’t know how a Sonic Rainboom will help me out this time.”

“Hey, Misty Fly,” Rainbow Dash returns with a cocky smirk, settling down on the cloud. There isn’t much room, though Misty Fly doesn’t shift from her spot in the middle. She’s not sure if snuggling next to the ‘Bolt is the right move or not, but it always makes her feel better when Doug does it. “We’ll make that Plan B.”

The corners of the yellow muzzle peeking out from the flight suit curls upward as Rainbow Dash plops next to her. “Does that mean there’s a plan A?”

“Err,” Rainbow Dash says as she scratches at the back of her mane. She probably should have thought this through.

“Or did you barrel ahead,” Misty Fly continues, a hint of a laugh behind her watery eyes, “heedless of the consequences?”

“No, there’s a plan!” Rainbow Dash gulps, having no clue what that plan is. But she can’t let Misty Fly sit here, letting the rest of her life fly by. She remembers being in a very similar situation, despondent and having no clue about what her future would hold, and a certain pair of hands had tapped rhythmically against her belly.

That’s it! She just needs to go with her gut. When has her gut ever steered her wrong?

“You’ve got a choice to make.” Rainbow Dash firmly presses her hoof against the yielding cloud. “You can let some stethoscope-wielding nutcase tell you how to live your life. Or?”

She whips her hooves to the sky as the Wonderbolts burst apart in perfect sync.

“You can be awesome again!!”

Misty raises an eyebrow as Rainbow Dash takes a deep breath, puffing her chest out. “Are you…”

“I know the world can get you down.”

“…Singing?” Misty Fly sighs.

“Things don’t work out quite the way that you thought.
Feeling like all your best days are done.
Your fears and doubts are all you’ve got.”

“Dash,” Misty Fly tries, looking more embarrassed being serenaded than ejected. “My best days are done.”

Not that Rainbow Dash notices. She taps against the cloud, ripping away bits and pieces that dissipate into nothing with every staccato note. Her voice rises, a crescendo that quickly eclipses the cheers of the spectators.

“But there’s a light!
Shining deep inside!
Beneath those fears and doubts,
So just squash ‘em.
And let it shi-i-ine
For all the world to see!
That it’s time, yeah,
Time to be awesome!”

“Dash!” Misty Fly exclaims as Rainbow Dash rears upward, fully ready to smash the remaining cloud to mist. The cerulean pegasus gets a confused look, her hooves twitching, and barely puts her destruction on a brief pause.

“Dash,” Misty Fly tries again now that she has gotten her attention. Rainbow Dash has to strain to hear her low voice. “They didn’t kick me out.” She sighs. “I pulled myself.”

Rainbow Dash stares at her for a long moment, the revelation taking its time to pierce her galvanized thoughts. She glances at her hooves, still primed to bust, and sheepishly lowers them to the remaining cloud. She lays ponyloaf, withers to withers, their close proximity now a necessity lest she hover alongside. “You… you what?”

If Misty Fly begrudges her the loss of the cloud, or her personal space, she doesn’t show it. “I told them it was time.”

“But you can’t just,” Rainbow Dash exclaims before she immediately quiets down, lest too much of their conversation be overheard by the spectators. “What went wro-, um…” she trails off with a sigh. She can’t imagine being in that position and just giving up! “Sorry I’m not any good at this. Not like Fluttershy; she knows how to talk to struggling ponies. And not make them feel like a, well…”

“A loser? A failure?” Misty Fly shrugs as though the words have no meaning, but it’s obvious they hurt. “Wonderbolts are supposed to be tough. Able to take the jeers of the crowd, or the jabs of your teammates.” Her gaze raises to the practicing ‘Bolts as she lets out a heavy sigh. “And you can’t call me anything worse than I’ve called myself.”

“Whoa, whoa,” Rainbow Dash exclaims. “Hold up. You’re not a failure, or a loser. You’re a Wonderbolt!”

“Was,” Misty Fly corrects. Rainbow’s ears fold against her head. “I was a Wonderbolt for sixteen years. Now?” She chuckles, cold and on the verge of giving up. “Your song wasn’t wrong. Fears and doubts are all I’ve got.”

Rainbow Dash gnaws at her lip. Does she go hard, tell her to get back in there? Soft and caring? Hopeful? Understanding? Brutally honest? “You’ve still got the uniform on,” she states, treating Misty with the hard hoof she uses when Scootaloo gets down. “The goggles. The mane. What’s stopping you?”

“I can’t keep up with her.”

Rainbow Dash follows Misty’s pointing hoof to the six ‘Bolts in formation, specifically Lightning Dust and her bright orange and gold striped mane. They’re going through the same tightening circle exercise that Misty failed. Lightning Dust keeps the turns tight, possibly even tighter than the others: she looks relaxed as she comes out, laughing almost, while the others have a grim concentration that speaks of being at their limits. She can understand Misty Fly’s trepidation at competing with the mare; it’s a position Rainbow Dash would put her in, were she up there and practicing instead of pumping out another foal. She knows she’ll get that shot, and soon, but it doesn’t make the waiting any easier.

“Goldie’s good,” Misty Fly says, admiration in her eyes. She trails off, just watching her go through the routine she would have been flying. Should have, in Rainbow Dash’s opinion, but it sounds too late for that.

“Goldie?” Rainbow Dash interjects. She’s certain it’s Lightning Dust up there.

“Lightning Dust,” Misty Fly confirms. She lets out a quiet snort as she recalls, “When she got here, couple months ago, she tried to buy us off.”

Rainbow Dash nearly chokes. “Wait, what?”

Misty Fly laughs along with Dash. “That’s what we thought, too! But, apparently that’s the griffon way; anytime you want a lesson, or a meal, or just to shoot the breeze, they expect to be paid. Even when getting a promotion you’re expected to slick the beak of the griffon promoting you.”

“So the nickname isn’t for her mane,” Rainbow Dash says, longing for the camaraderie, “but because she thought gold was the way up?”

“Pretty much,” Misty Fly says, trailing off again.

“Well,” Rainbow Dash prompts, “what about you? I bet you’ve got an awesome nickname!”

“Dizzy.” Misty Fly taps her head while she rolls her eyes about their sockets. “My first day after graduating from the Academy I ran smack into a wall. Couldn’t fly straight for a good fifteen minutes.”

Horror crosses Rainbow Dash’s face. “That’s… that’s serious.” Her gaze raises to where Misty Fly abandoned the g-intensive spin maneuver. Head injuries are the worst, as they make it more likely to get injured again, and you can’t really build up your resistance with conditioning or training.

“At the time, we just laughed it off.” Misty Fly shrugs as though it doesn’t mean anything, but it obviously does. “And it wasn’t too bad. Sure, I had to be more careful with my maneuvers, and a head-on collision would ground me for a day, until we made sure everything was okay. But I always got back up.” Her head dips. “But now? Goldie’s ready to take over for me. I don’t have to worry if today’s the day my head gives out.”

“What did the doc say?”

Misty Fly stifles a snort. “He said it was unlucky it wasn’t my heart. That the heart is so easily changed out, but the head can’t be persuaded.” She glances down at her chest, worried and at the same time curious. “Is Doug like a Gigaboon?”

“A mega monkey?” Rainbow Dash snorts. “Sounds like I’m not the only one who reads too much Daring Do. And you can’t have his heart.” She sticks her tongue out at Misty Fly, who giggles. “It belongs to me! …And the rest of the herd.”

“Must be nice.” Misty Fly goes back to watching the Wonderbolts circle around, their practice nearly complete. “What’s it like being with your stallion?”

“Doug?” Rainbow Dash’s muzzle scrunches up. For as long as she’s been with him, she should have a quicker answer to this question. “I know he has my back, that I can count on him and tell him anything. That he’ll support me, no matter what I do, and at the same time he’ll tell me when he thinks I’m screwing up.”

“So, he’s loyal?” Misty Fly smirks. “Where do I sign up?”

Rainbow Dash chuckles; she hopes she’s joking. “In a word, I guess so.” A sheepish look crosses her face; she remembers some gossip she overheard when she was last flying with the ‘Bolts, when she saved Misty Fly after Rarity clocked her. “I, um, take it there’s not a stallion you’ve already paired up with?”

“Fire Streak’s retiring next - who knows how long that’ll be with me dropping out - but he’s got his eyes on somepony else.”

“I heard if High Winds says no he’ll ask you.”

“Gee,” Misty Fly says with a roll of her eyes, “thanks for reminding me I’m his second choice.” Rainbow Dash grimaces; her and her big mouth. “And that was before I got cut.”

“At least,” Rainbow Dash tries again, “you weren’t dishonorably discharged.”

Misty Fly fixes Rainbow Dash with a hard stare. “You mean like if I knew I wasn’t capable of flying a show, but tried anyway? And crashed?”

Rainbow Dash huffs at her foalhood nickname. “That’s not what I meant.”

Misty Fly slowly nods. “I know. I’m sorry. But I’ve been working with Goldie, putting her through the paces, and like I said before: she’s good. You should see the gaps she squeezes through, and her cloudbusting! She’ll try anything, even to the point of being reckless, and makes even the hardest stunts look easy. That’s why she’s getting this shot so early. Yet she doesn’t care for anypony who can’t keep up, which is most of her fellow recruits, and even a few of the older ‘Bolts like me. But that’s the Griffon way.”

“Being a Wonderbolt isn’t just about being the best,” Rainbow Dash contests. “It’s about being a team. I… I hope she realizes that.”

“Oh?” Misty Fly raises an eyebrow. “You gonna show her the power of Loyalty?”

“With this?” Rainbow Dash taps her pregnant belly, the two snickering. “Next year.”

“Next year,” Misty Fly agrees with a grin. She snuggles next to Rainbow Dash, draping a wing over the cerulean back and feeling the bulge on the other side. A moment of silence passes before she asks, “How do you do it?”

“Do what?” Rainbow Dash asks, lost in the moment and just enjoying the contact.

“How do you have that hope for the future?” Misty Fly glances down at her hooves, hidden in the cloud. “How do you stay so optimistic? You’re going to have not one but two foals, when nopony else in the ‘Bolts has even had one. You’re starting eight years later than you should, those growth years gone, and yet you’re raring to fly until your wings fall off. While over here I’m worried what stallion will even want a mare whose best years have already been used up, who can’t keep a spin going for more than fifteen seconds without blacking out!”

“Are you foaling me?” Rainbow Dash exclaims. “What herd wouldn’t want you? They’ll be fouling each other’s wakes to invite you in!”

“I don’t want to be invited to a herd only because I’m a former Wonderbolt,” Misty Fly claims. “And they don’t want somepony they can outfly. That’s all the stallions here care about. I want somepony who doesn’t care about my ‘fame’. Why can’t there be more stallions like that in the world?”

“So don’t,” Rainbow Dash counters just as strongly. “You don’t need to join a herd right away.”

“Then what am I going to do?” Misty Fly sinks into the cloud. “I thought I would work weather, but I don’t want to go to the office like my dam. I, uh, don’t have the head for it.” She grimaces. “Anything else I could do feels like such a downgrade. Wonderbolt to some cloud jockey?”

“You could come to Ponyville,” Rainbow Dash suggests. “It’s got some tough weather to deal with. Hardest in all of Equestria! Nopony’ll look down on you for working there.”

“That does sound nice,” Misty Fly says wistfully. “As long as I don’t have to do cloud runs.”

“Ugh, those are the worst.”

“Tell me about it.”

Next Chapter: Ch. 170 - Natural Affinity, Part Five Estimated time remaining: 5 Hours, 17 Minutes