Even though shards of Celestia’s sunset were still managing to pierce the forest canopy, Douglas Fir busied himself lighting several gas lamps around his front porch, which was apparently the most convenient location for an impromptu press conference. He’d set an upturned log in front of his door as a makeshift lectern, and he’d also dragged two wooden chairs from his kitchen so that the mayor and Ms. Fluttershy would each have a place to sit down while the other was speaking. At the moment, Mayor Mare was reviewing the events of the past few hours for the assembled reporters. Twilight Sparkle had been the one to suggest this approach, theorizing that letting the mayor handle the general questions would mean that Fluttershy would only need to deal with technical questions.

However, as she scanned the crowd of reporters, the fog specialist’s confidence in this idea plummeted. Every pair of eyes seemed to keep shifting back to her, probing her for weaknesses. Fluttershy was surprised to see some faces that she recognized from her stint as a supermodel, and it was these reporters who were the most discomforting. Every pony in this category wore an expression of skeptical annoyance, with one or two of them going so far as to roll their eyes; they must have worked their tails off to get from the fashion beat to a more “respectable” position, yet here they were, still having to deal with Fluttershy.

As the mayor sat down and Fluttershy walked to the lectern log, she couldn’t help feeling her usual nervousness start twisting her stomach in knots. With any luck, it would be over relatively soon. Ears up....

“Thank you, Mayor,” she said before turning her attention to her inquisitors. “I’m ready to take your questions.” Several ponies raised their hooves in the air; Fluttershy pointed a hoof at a pale yellow unicorn stallion with an orange mane. “Um, you.”

“Exclusive, San Flankcisco Chronometer,” the stallion said, introducing himself. “Can you explain why the Department of Weather has decided to devote so many resources and taxpayer bits to dealing with this situation? Even if it was mass-produced, fog’s fog, right?”

“Um, not in this case. This fog is not normal; as a result, anypony who gets caught unaware could find themselves in trouble very quickly, even if they aren’t a pegasus.”

“What kind of trouble?”

“Um... well, the fog is cold and dense enough to pose a risk of hypothermia to anypony who isn’t wearing a coat. And of course, pegasi could easily find themselves trapped in their own homes as the fog rolls through.”

This seemed to satisfy the reporter, who focused his attention onto his notebook.

“Er, thank you,” Fluttershy said awkwardly, having no idea how one was supposed to conclude an exchange like this. “Um, next question?”

A brownish-grey earth pony mare with a greyish-brown mane raised her hoof. “Muckraker, Fillydelphia Inquiry. What exactly is going to happen when the fog meets these fires?”

“Um, I can’t say with absolute certainty what will happen, because the fog isn’t behaving the way normal fog does. With any luck, the heat from the fires will cause the fog to disperse.”

“And when will we learn whether this plan is as ‘lucky’ as you hope it is?”

Fluttershy swallowed nervously. “Well, if all of the measurements of the fog’s speed are correct, we should be finding out very soon.”

Despite the heat of their bonfire, the westernmost team of pegasi (known as “Team Alpha” because Rainbow Dash thought it was cooler than “Team 1”) couldn’t help but notice the temperature starting to drop as the fog crept closer. Thanks to the topography of the Unicorn Range, the fog would arrive at their bonfire first, but that wasn’t the only reason that Rainbow Dash had stopped to give them a last minute pep talk.

“You guys are all reservists, right?”

Several bright yellow sou’wester rain hats bobbed up and down as the fog-suited pegasi nodded in response. Given how they were dressed, one would be forgiven for assuming that they’d been preparing to brave a storm on the high seas—which wasn’t that far from the truth.

Rainbow Dash smiled and continued. “I bet a few of you are wondering why there aren’t any full-time weatherponies in the advance team. The answer is simple: all of you said that you had extensive experience camping, which would mean that you know how to build fires—and it looks like you were telling the truth.” The pegasus paused and admired the blaze that was roaring behind the assembled team.

She continued, “But in a few minutes, that fog is going to be here, and it’s gonna be cold, wet, and thick, and you’re going to have to do everything you can to keep this fire going. If we’re lucky, the hot air will push the fog up into the air and break it up. If we aren’t... well, I’ll be sticking around here for now. If I tell you to clear out, you drop whatever you’re doing and join up with Team Beta. Got it?”

The team responded with more nods and a few affirmative mumbles.

That, however, wasn’t good enough for Rainbow Dash. “I said, ‘Got it?’”

“Yes, ma’am!” the team chorused back.

“That’s more like it. Now, c’mon, we’re out of time to waste.”

The team returned to work, and not a moment too soon, as the faintest wisps of cloud had begun slithering into the air around them. Within minutes, visibility had plummeted; soon, only the bonfire and its immediate surroundings could be seen—and even that was shaky, as the fire’s strength had begun to waver in the grip of the damp, cold, dark grey blob. Team Alpha gamely pressed on, though, continuing to stoke the fire even though the fog was obviously hindering their mobility, even in their standard yellow fog suits, but any hope that Operation Heatstroke would quickly resolve the problem had faded even faster than the blaze.

Soon, the stockpile of wood was nearly gone, and more importantly, the fog had dampened what remained to the point where it was producing as much smoke as flame. Rainbow Dash bit her lip, and then made her decision.

“Fall back! Fall back!” The weatherpony watched the reservists fly southeast towards Team Beta, and then turned her attention back to the fog. Without the constant attention, the once-magnificent bonfire had been reduced to smoldering embers as the fog closed in around it. The silver-clad pegasus flew into the mass of water vapor to see if she could feel any difference. After a few passes, she was fairly certain that the fog hadn’t dispersed, but the southward pressure against her body was significantly less intense than it had been earlier in the day.

The fog was slowing down.

“I really wish Sweetie Belle was here,” Scootaloo remarked in between strained grunts as she pulled on the handle of her wagon.

“Yeah, I got that the first dozen times ya said it,” Apple Bloom said wearily from where she was pushing the rear of the wagon. “Ain’t her fault her mama couldn’t volunteer with the other grownups.” Apparently, the unicorn’s mother had come down with a mild colic that had nixed any chance of the filly sneaking out to join her friends in “acquiring” another part of their awesome human trap.

“I just didn’t expect this thing to be so heavy,” Scootaloo said. “Some more help moving it would have been nice.”

“Well,” the earth pony replied, “why didn’t we just wait until she could help us?”

“Because we have no idea if we’ll get a chance to borrow this from the construction site before the humans come.”

That seemed reasonable enough, but another thought occurred to Apple Bloom. “Why would a construction site have a jackhammer in the first place? I’d’a thought that was somethin’ you’d use for demolition.”

“Beats me,” the pegasus filly replied. “But the way I see it, that just means they’re less likely to notice it’s gone before we bring it back, right?”

“I s’pose...”

“Great. Now, c’mon, we need to get this back to the clubhouse.”

Team Beta was better prepared for the incoming fog. Rainbow Dash had shifted some firewood to them from the bonfire teams who’d be facing the magically-infused clouds last, since they also happened to be closest to the earth ponies’ delivery point. As a result, the silver-wrapped mare had found herself chewing out several less experienced ponies for removing their sou’westers so they could fan themselves off as the fog approached.

However, it soon became apparent that, even though increasing the intensity of the flames resulted in a more pronounced slowdown, that was all it seemed to do. Indeed, it almost felt like the fog was growing denser as Rainbow Dash continued her reconnaissance flights. Of course, since she didn’t have any of the assorted widgets and doodads that eggheads like Twilight used to measure that sort of stuff, she couldn’t be sure if that was what was really happening, or if it was all in her head.

As she sat on the ground near the bonfire, pondering her next move, Thunderlane, the Beta Team leader, timidly fluttered over to his superior and nervously scraped the gravelly ground before speaking: “Um, Rainbow Dash? The fog isn’t going away.”

The weatherpony somehow managed to suppress a groan at this statement of the blatantly obvious. “Thanks, I can see that.”

“What should we do, Boss?”

For a few seconds, Rainbow Dash pondered whether or not she should fly down to the base to get Fluttershy’s opinion on what should be done next, but she decided against it. After all, she wouldn’t have been given this job in the first place if the fog specialist hadn’t trusted her judgment—hadn’t Fluttershy specifically said that her friend would be better at making decisions on the fly? And as Rainbow Dash thought about it more, it really did make sense. If she flew down to the base and tried to explain the situation, Fluttershy would either want to fly up to the mountains to see for herself, which would take way too much time, or she’d defer to the weatherpony’s judgment, rendering the time spent away from her team pointless.

The blue pegasus let out a slow breath. Rainbow Dash had promised herself that she was going to trust Fluttershy, and right now, Fluttershy trusted her. She quickly ran over her options, selected the one that seemed most promising, and committed to it.

“Stick with the plan, and keep the fire going as long you can. Even if the fog doesn’t go away, we can still slow it down and buy Fluttershy more time to come up with something else.” Thunderlane nodded and returned to his team, as Rainbow Dash flew eastward to tell the remaining fire teams of the new tactic.

“Um, I don’t actually have much information on the business decisions Caligo made before the accident. It doesn’t seem to be all that relevant to the job I’m doing at the moment. Besides, now isn’t really the time for pointing hooves.”

The reporter from the Canterlot Sun didn’t seem particularly happy with this answer, but she apparently concluded that there wasn’t much point to pressing the matter. “Thank you, Ms. Fluttershy.”

After that rather icy reception, Fluttershy really wanted a friendly face, and she found it in the form of one of the local reporters for the Ponyville Express. “Yes, Homespun?”

A short, puce earth pony mare smiled briefly before asking, “When will you know if your plan has worked?”

It was a question that Fluttershy would have liked to know the answer to herself, especially since the trees blocked any chance to see if the fog had cleared yet. “I’ll know once Rainbow Dash returns here to tell me,” she said honestly. “Until then, we’ll all just have to be patient and wait.”

This answer was quite satisfactory to Homespun, who had known Fluttershy quite well for several years, but the other reporters were clearly disappointed that she didn’t tear into the specialist for what must have struck them as an obvious evasion of the question.

Fluttershy decided that now would be a good time to move on with the press conference. “Um, next question... er, how about you?” she said, pointing to a reddish-brown pegasus stallion with a baseball for a cutie mark.

“Hard Hitter of The Cloudsdale Eye. I noticed that most of the ponies that were given positions of authority today are personal friends of yours.”

“Uh, yes, they are.”

After several seconds of silence the reporter asked in a rather miffed tone, “Aren’t you going to answer the question?”

“But... you didn’t ask me a question.”

Hard Hitter apparently had thought his question was so self-evident that it didn’t need to be asked, because he was visibly attempting to repress a sneer when he continued. “Why didn’t you give these jobs to more qualified ponies?”

“My friends are qualified.”

“Because they’re your friends?”

“Um, no, because they’re the Elements of Harmony.”

This prompted a round of laughter from the other reporters, which didn’t improve Hard Hitter’s mood. “Thank you,” he said with perfect insincerity, glaring at the fog specialist even as she continued on.

Fluttershy did her best to put the pegasus reporter out of her mind as she pointed to another journalist, but his dirty looks weren’t making it easy. I hope Rainbow Dash is having better luck....

For a plan that wasn’t working the way it was supposed to, Operation Heatstroke was going surprisingly well. Even though the fires hadn’t dispersed the fog bank, they’d managed to not only slow it down, but funnel it towards a single pass near Mt. Barbaro, where the largest of the fires was currently blazing.

With the entire team focused on a single fire, the pegasi now had the luxury of working in shifts, which in turn meant that they had a chance to cool down from the stifling heat within their oilskin fog suits. This also meant that many of them now had a chance to get a good look at their adversary, now lit up by both moonlight and firelight.

“It looks like a massive building,” a bluish-grey pegasus mare said to nopony in particular as she leaned back against an outcropping of rock, “only without windows. Or doors.”

Somepony, however, heard her and decided to respond. “Uh, Flitter, it is construction-grade cloud, remember?” Thunderlane reminded the mare, his eyes askance. “I’m pretty sure it was originally supposed to be a massive building. Several, in fact.”

“Oh, right. I forgot that part.” At the time, she’d been a bit distracted by Rainbow Dash’s distinctive attire. Now, however, it didn’t just look cool; it also looked cooler—like maybe twenty degrees cooler. At the very least, it didn’t look like their leader had spent the evening flying around inside her own personal steam room. “I wonder if Rarity has enough leftover fabric to make another. Or maybe she’ll have to order some more.”

“Actually,” Thunderlane replied, “Rainbow Dash told me that the fabric belonged to Fluttershy. But I don’t think this is the time to worry about fashion statements.”

Right on cue, Rainbow Dash hollered out. “Get to your stations, everypony! It’s here!”

The fog’s average density had increased dramatically throughout the evening, although it wasn’t consistent; sometimes, it was hardly more restrictive than normal fog, but in other places, moving around was like swimming through molasses, though proximity to the bonfire seemed to help a little bit. That is, until the fire began receding, the way all the others had done.

“C’mon, guys!” Rainbow shouted from somewhere above, where she was presumably keeping tabs on the fog’s movements. “Keep it up! We can do this!” More wood was piled onto the bonfire, as flapping wings delivered a constant supply of oxygen to the coals at its base. The flames flared upwards into the impenetrable grey haze. “Yeah! That’s the stuff! We just need to keep it from crossing the pass. Ponyville’s counting on you!” The pegasi sped up their efforts as best they could, but the conflagration’s heat and the fog’s sludgy consistency was rapidly draining what little energy they had left.

And then, just when it seemed like they’d be forced to give up, it happened: “Stop!” The silence that came after Rainbow Dash’s voice seemed interminable, punctuated only by the fire’s crackles and pops. “It’s not moving. It’s not moving!” Suddenly, a silver streak zipped into view landing near the fire. “The fog’s right at the pass, but it’s practically solid. You did it! You’ve stopped the fog!”

A huge cheer went up from the crowd of pegasi. It wasn’t really possible to see it from their post around the fog-shrouded bonfire, but Rainbow Dash wouldn’t lie about something like that. Their hard work had paid off; for the moment, the ponies of Ponyville were safe. Several of the pegasi immediately began to look relieved, as many slumped back onto their haunches and took off their hats to let the fog cool them down.

That’s when the mistake happened.

Whether it was a misunderstanding of Rainbow Dash’s announcement or the result of growing accustomed to the fog’s resistance, Flitter decided to partially unzip her fog suit in an effort to cool off a bit. Naturally, she had no intention of removing it completely—but reality has an uncanny way of rendering intentions moot. For although the edge of the fog bank was no longer creeping towards Ponyville, the vapor inside it was still moving around, and the now-exposed area of her chest, combined with her decision to stretch out her wings, made her unusually susceptible to a stray globule of unusually dense fog which caught her like a windsail in a storm.

The other pegasi had barely enough time to gasp before Flitter slammed into the still-burning fire.

“Inside Scoop from The Globe and Trotter. If you don’t mind, could you explain how you came to be a fog specialist? It’s not exactly the sort of thing that normally follows from modeling and taking care of animals, after all.”

Fluttershy wasn’t sure which was worse: the question itself (which she’d been dreading since the press conference began), or the cagey look in Hard Hitter got in his eye when his colleague finished speaking. The meek pegasus had no idea how she’d be able to wrangle her way out of this particular mess—but fate, apparently, decided to bail her out of her predicament in the worst way imaginable.

“Whoa! Excuse me! Coming through!” A dark grey pegasus stallion skidded to a halt as he landed in front of the reporters. Apparently, Thunderlane had been in a bit of a rush, as he’d forgotten to remove his hat when he’d taken off his bulky and unwieldy fog suit—presumably to increase his flying speed, if the somewhat panicked look in his golden eyes was any indication. “Uh, Ms. Fluttershy?” he asked. “We’ve got a problem.”

Naturally, this statement piqued the curiosity of the horde of journalists, who all seemed to lean forward at once in an effort to catch whatever sordid tidbit of information the stallion had brought. Unfortunately for them, this mass shuffling seemed to alert Thunderlane to their presence; he looked genuinely shocked when he glanced behind him and saw a crowd of mostly unfamiliar ponies. He beckoned Fluttershy to move closer to him, and when she complied, he began whispering rapidly in her ear.

As she listened to the message, Fluttershy’s eyes began to widen while her pupils simultaneously contracted. Her already-pale yellow face grew even paler, and for a split-second, her knees appeared to wobble. However, her ears didn’t flatten out; they stayed upright and facing forward, and (to Mayor Mare’s intense gratification) the fog specialist didn’t seem to be attempting to force an aura of phony confidence. When Thunderlane had finished, she nodded and returned to the lectern.

“I’m sorry, everypony, but I’m going to have to end this press conference. A matter has come up which requires my full attention. Thank you for your time.” Without waiting for a response, Fluttershy took to the air and started flying away much faster than anypony present had ever seen her move before.