‘You’re the pegasus who pulled off a sonic rainboom? But you’re so puny!’ The griffon’s tone had expressed a mix of contempt, incredulity and just a hint of stifled awe.

Rainbow Dash’s response replayed in her head: ‘Yeah, yeah.’ Trying to sound cool about it. ‘It was nothing.’

Gilda had smirked. ‘Well, if a runt like you can do it, I know I can.’

The rainbow-decorated filly lay on a small isolated cloud and brooded. She hadn’t seen Gilda all day, and she couldn’t help scanning the open skies for the unmissable body of a young feathered lion darting through the air like only a star Junior Speedster could.

Of all the other campers, only Gilda had the fierce ambition to match her own. They became friends because she wanted Rainbow Dash to instruct her in performing sonic rainbooms.

‘I’ve only done it once,’ Rainbow Dash had told her at the end of just one of many long, frustrating days of this coaching. She felt horribly vulnerable admitting that much. She didn’t want anyone to know the limit of her capabilities. ‘It’s really difficult.’ She hesitated, and lowered her tone even more. ‘I don’t know if I could even do it again.’

Gilda frowned at her as ‘Lights out!’ was announced, and as the girls’ bedroom disappeared into darkness, she hissed down to Rainbow’s level of their bunk bed, ‘If you really performed it before, you can do it again. Either you’re a liar or you’re holding out on me.’ The pair had already got into enough trouble over talking at length after lights out, so she didn’t say any more. Rainbow Dash had lain in bed feeling queasy well after she started to hear Gilda’s light snores.

They hadn’t spoken since.

Rainbow Dash admired Gilda. She was a powerful flier with a wicked sense of fun. Nopony had ever made her feel so understood before; she didn’t want to lose Gilda over her personal failures.

She pulled herself up and jumped into the air. She’d had enough of lying around in a funk. She picked up as much speed as she could in spite of her sluggish afternoon, enjoying the familiar rush of air whipping through her mane.

This was her cure. Or the closest thing she had to it. Ever since she performed the famous Sonic Rainboom, reaching speeds previously believed impossible, she’d been addicted to speed. She could feel herself leaving all her self-doubt behind, along with everything else.

She took a sharp dive, tearing down toward solid ground with all the energy she could muster. Within moments of getting a clear view of the earth below, she could make out individual blades of grass and pulled up in time to race along the ground mere inches from touching it. She dropped her speed until she judged it safe to land and rolled onto the grass, letting herself lose control, enjoying the dizzying spin of the world around her — up until the point that she crashed into the tree trunk.

Her head didn’t hurt for long, but she didn’t move it. She lay still against the tree and opened her eyes, slowly taking in the scene before her of a long forest clearing. Her heart was still pounding; she felt exquisitely light-headed.

She knew she would have to make her way back soon, but she guessed she still had some time to spare. She wanted to enjoy this moment. Her whole body was pulsating. She stretched out, squeezing her eyes shut and letting out a sigh that came out sounding more like a soft moan.

‘You right there, Dash?’ That mocking, boyish voice was unmistakable. Rainbow Dash looked over her left shoulder to see Gilda watching her.

‘Gilda!’ Rainbow Dash jumped and straightened up, a hot flush rushing over her cheeks. She wanted to say something, but she was stuck for words.

‘Ready to show me the sonic rainboom, for real?’ Her voice jeered, but her eyes looked hopeful.

‘We should really be getting back, Gilda,’ the pegasus mumbled, looking up at the now orange sky.

The griffon snorted and walked past her. ‘I knew you were all talk.’

Rainbow Dash couldn’t let that stand. She stepped up to Gilda and stared her straight in the eyes. Despite having to look up at the griffon, who stood taller than her, Rainbow Dash was far more incensed than she was intimidated. ‘If you’re ready,’ she growled, ‘and I mean really ready, I’ll show you what I can do.’ Her heart was pounding again, but it felt good. She tensed, readying herself to take off, and Gilda mirrored her, signalling her affirmative answer.

They shot up, Rainbow Dash a split second first, but Gilda made up the difference just as quickly. They picked up altitude in perfect sync, their bodies pushing through the air as though a single object. Rainbow Dash’s heart soared at the feeling of the griffon’s athletic body beating hard to keep up with her.

They ascended too fast to exchange taunts. Rainbow Dash found it harder and harder to keep her focus on the demanding task of recreating the performance that had produced a sonic rainboom in the past. She felt light-headed again, as if she were in freefall. She straightened out, so that they were soaring at a consistent altitude, and tried to prepare herself for the dive they would have to take to achieve the necessary velocity.

She was nervous, but no longer about the sonic rainboom. She would show Gilda what she could do, with no regrets, whatever happened: she was determined to that effect. But she realized the true source of her anxiety with a lurch that almost threw her off course. The delay of her recovery allowed Gilda to speed ahead of her, and instead of charging forward to catch up with her, the miniature adrenaline junkie allowed herself to fall back for a moment, taking in the singular view of Gilda’s long eagle wings, strong hind legs and proud, tufted lion’s tail in the brilliant golden light of sunset.

This happened to ponies. She’d seen it in some of the freshly adolescent colts and fillies around camp. Victims of their own new hormones, they fell under intense crushes and infatuations. But it was usually a matter of filly-colt, colt-filly.

And it was never a filly and an object that was neither a colt nor a filly. Young pegasi who even admired non-pegasus ponies were considered ‘weird’. Something was misfiring in Rainbow Dash’s brain. Or some other part of her.

Now she bolted forward, passing right by Gilda with some effort, who pushed forward again and managed to match Rainbow Dash’s masochistic pace, having caught the chance to recuperate.

Rainbow Dash guided her into a dive, and let all her own anger and shame and terrified excitement convert itself into pure energy, so that Gilda was almost pulled along in her wake and had to fight to keep abreast.

The pegasus was ready to cramp up in pain, but they were fast approaching the desired velocity. A conical shockwave was forming around them. Any moment now they would be able to make the crucial turn back up and, hopefully, shoot out from the force of a light spectrum-shattering sonic rainboom.

‘Aagh!’ Gilda pulled back, and Rainbow Dash instinctively followed suit, just in time for them to both come to the ground at a crashing roll.

This time there were no trees in her path, but she felt the pangs of many instant bruises. When at last she came to a full stop, she looked over at Gilda, who was picking herself up a little way from her, and straightening her feathers. Rainbow Dash forced a smile.

‘Are you crazy?’ Gilda didn’t look amused, but was apparently still impressed.

Rainbow Dash was moist with sweat. She wasn’t sure what she would do to Gilda if she dared, but she longed to do something more than what she did next. She giggled nervously and said, ‘We should probably head back to camp now.’ She looked for some sign that the experience they’d just shared had shaken her friend in the way it had her. A secret part of her was squirming in hopeful torment.

‘Whatever,’ Gilda shrugged, readying her wings.

‘Gilda?’ Rainbow Dash started, realizing that she might not get another chance in a place like this.

‘What, Dash?’ The griffon stood proud. She seemed to have brightened now that they were talking again, but the only thing Rainbow Dash could see lurking in her smile was a mild annoyance of some kind.

She made an abrupt change of course. ‘D’you still think I’m full of crap?’

Gilda just laughed, and took off. They flew back to camp together without saying anything more.

Gilda fell asleep first again that night. Rainbow Dash couldn’t stop thinking about her. Her sleepy mind’s eye travelled over Gilda’s lean muscles, recalled a couple of her rarer, softer smiles, and her body remembered the warmth of the griffon’s so close to her own, their heartbeats thumping in time as they soared through the sunset. In the pitch darkness her hoof found its way to the part of her that was pulsing with need, and stayed there for what felt like most of the night, rubbing back and forth, soothing her aching body with soft, steady thrills of gratification.

She couldn’t recall afterwards at what point she fell asleep, and she didn’t remember experiencing the peak of pleasure that her yearning body had promised her. She never dared confide in Gilda, but all the same, she couldn’t keep herself from trying to ease her longing each night with what became an uncontrollable — and intoxicating — bedtime ritual.

She found it easier to wait patiently for the appropriate time of night after camp was over and Gilda had returned to her home among the griffons, but the less violent longing for her remained, and the griffon was the object of Rainbow Dash’s nocturnal thoughts for a considerably long time.