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// 4. The Road and the Woods On Top of It 
// Story: The Delightful Dragon of Ep 
// by Laichonious the Grey 
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Rarity was a pony who prided herself on being a delicate social butterfly. No matter the situation, she was constantly confident, continuously composed, totally tactful and perpetually pleasant. Imagine her chagrin when she blurted out at her newfound friend a clumsy petition for companionship.
“Would you like to come with me?” Rarity asked, surprising herself. 
Smartypants didn't mind at all. She didn't know that there were protocols for asking a new acquaintance to accompany you somewhere. She didn't even know what protocols were. “I would love to,” she said without hesitation. She swayed for a moment where she stood, evidently expecting something else to happen.
Rarity thanked her lucky stars that of all the times to make a social faux pas, it happened in the company of a blank slate. “But, you don't even know where I'm going, dear.”
Smartypants shrugged. “Doesn’t matter to me. I just want to be where you are. If I want to be somewhere, it would be with my friend. You’ve taught me a lot.”
Rarity giggled. “Well I suppose I have, but you knew next to nothing before I met you, so I don’t know if that is something to brag about,” she said, looking to the sky. 
Days seemed to be as long as normal here, wherever here actually was, so she figured they had another three or four hours of light left. “We had better get going. There’s not much daylight left and I would like to be as close to the Ruby City as I can get before nightfall.” She turned back to the road and started down the fork to the right. Behind her, Smartypants teetered around the stalks of corn like a sailor unsure of the ground and stumbled over the low timber fence, mostly using her face. She watched the stuffed pony with concern as she followed after her on wobbly legs. 
“Are you alright, darling? Do you need any help?” she asked, stopping to let the scarecrow catch up.
“I’m fine,” she said, just before she fell face first into the yellow bricks. She attempted to get to her hooves several times, but her flimsy legs and uncoordinated movements had her flopping around like a newborn foal.
Rarity shook her head, enveloping the struggling mare in a cloud of magic. “Here you go,” she said, setting Smartypants upright again. “We'll go slow for a while, so that you can get used to walking first.” She started walking with the scarecrow at a leisurely pace, keeping a thin strand of magic around the scarecrow's shoulders.
“That sounds good,” Smartypants replied.
An hour later, Rarity was beginning to wonder if she would ever see the Ruby City. They were able to pick up the pace, thankfully, when the hay-filled pony was able to get her silly limbs to work in a fashion resembling a walk.
“You make this look so easy,” Smartypants said, her brow folded in concentration. “I hope I’m not slowing you down too much.”
“Not at all,” Rarity lied, flipping her mane. “It's a nice day and I have no idea how far it is to the city. Besides,” she smiled, “I'm in good company and there's no rush to end that.”
The road wound around the low and gentle hills quite smoothly, until they came to the dark forest Rarity had seen from the ridge with Selene. The trees looked odd to Rarity, and on several occasions she almost asked Smartypants if she thought the same but then she remembered how little experience the scarecrow had. Instead, she pushed the strange trees from her mind and carried on a pleasant conversation with the inquisitive stuffed mare. She asked Rarity about everything that caught her button eye. In answering the scarecrow's questions, the white unicorn suddenly realized how much she knew and had taken for granted. The questions came farther and farther apart as the trees grew closer and closer together. Soon the road became narrower and rougher as the encroaching trees tried to break up the yellow bricks with their roots. Smartypants stumbled over the loose bricks and often fell into the many potholes that riddled the dusky road. 
After fishing the poor thing from the fifth pothole, Rarity asked, “Why not avoid the holes, darling? You can go around them.”
“Oh,” replied Smartypants, “I hadn't thought of that.”
Rarity laughed and set her back on the ground. Smartypants did better about avoiding the holes, until they went around a bend in the growing darkness. The scarecrow was happily trotting along out front one moment, and then gone the next. Rarity gasped in alarm, running to the spot where her companion vanished. 
“Smartypants?! Where are you?” She summoned a light to her horn, dispelling the grey murk and bathing the road in a pale light. Her magelight revealed a wide gully across the road, and the remains of a wooden bridge dangling over the edge to her left. She took a step back in surprise, her eyes still frantically searching for Smartypants. The trench wasn't very deep, but it was several sceptres wide. Light sparkled back at her from the bottom of the gully, shifting in a thin ribbon of water. “Smartypants!”
“Rarity,” she called from the gloom, “is this that falling that you were talking about earlier?”
The fashionista heaved a relieved sigh over the edge of the gully. “Yes, darling. That's what falling is.”
“I don't think I liked that.”
“Most ponies don't,” Rarity laughed. “Are you hurt, dear?”
“What's... hurt?”
“Um, let's put it another way... Is anything wrong? Can you get out of there by yourself?”
“I don't know... what's... wrong?”
“It's the opposite of right.”
“I thought that was left,” called a confused Smartypants.
“Well it's that too, but this is a different kind of right. That isn't important right now. Can you get out? Do I need to come get you?”
The soft rustling of hay whispered up to the top of the gully. “Um, the stuffing in one of my legs came out. There's a hole. I don't think I can get up.”
“Alright,” Rarity called, walking along the edge and looking for a way down, “hold on, I'll be right there.”
“Are there three kinds of right, then?”
Rarity chuckled to herself as she picked her way down the bank of the rift. “Don't worry about it, darling.”
The going wasn't easy, as attested by Opal's loud complaints at the shifting of the basket and Rarity's frustrated grunts. The light faded until night had well and truly fallen over the forest, by the time Rarity got to Smartypants. In the pale light of her spell, Rarity found the scarecrow lying on a patch of pebbles. She was a sorry sight. Her left hind leg had snagged on a dead branch, tearing down the seam, and dangled uselessly. Straw was strewn all over the wide creekbed, some small clumps slowly floating away in the lazy little stream. 
“Oh dear! Does that hurt?” Rarity hurriedly started gathering the straw with quick bursts of magic.
“I can't use my leg without stuffing, if that is what you mean,” replied Smartypants as she intently watched the white unicorn use her magic.
“No, no, darling. Are you in pain? It definitely looks painful.”
“What's... pain?”
Rarity paused in gathering the wayward straw. “Hm. Pain... is the feeling you get when you're hurt.” She started gently stuffing the hay back into the scarecrow's leg.
After a few moments, Smartypants spoke up. “I don't think I can hurt this way. I see you eating and drinking, but I don't need to... Are there other kinds of hurting, Rarity?”
She should have expected this sort of question from the scarecrow, and in a way she had, but the task of answering it still surprised Rarity with its difficulty. The white unicorn stuffed the last of the hay into the torn leg, silently considering Smartypants’ question. From her saddle bags, she fished a needle and a spool of stout thread, the kind she used for joining major parts of a garment that would see a lot of wear and tear. In practiced and efficient manipulation of her magic, Rarity threaded the needle and began swiftly stitching up the leg. After the fourth stitch, she had an answer.
“There are other ways to hurt, dear. For instance, you can hurt somepony’s feelings.”
“Feelings? What are those?”
Two stitches. 
“Well, feelings are things like happiness or sadness, uh, love or hate, hope or despair... you feel them when things happen, or when you see something, and when other ponies say and do things. For example, I was very happy when I met you and glad when you could show me the way to go.”
“Happy... sounds like a good thing. I made you feel happy?”
One stitch and a smile.
“Yes you did, dear.”
Three stitches.
“That must be how I feel, because I felt something change from when I was alone before. When I was alone I felt... sad, but when you came to my field I felt... happy, and that feeling never stopped....”
Rarity began the next phase of the repair with a double over-hoof and interlocking stitch to go down the rip again. 
Five stitches.
“Rarity?”
One stitch.
“Yes, darling?”
Two stitches.
“Is sad a kind of hurting? What is the opposite of hurting?”
Three stitches.
“I suppose you can say that being sad hurts, yes. Healing is the opposite of hurting, it's what usually happens after you get hurt. Like right now, we can say that your leg got hurt and now that I'm stitching it up, it's healing.”
Three stitches.
“Friendship is healing,” Smartypants announced to the gully.
The announcement drew a light-hearted laugh from the fashionista as she put in the last stitch and closed off the line with a flourish. She ignored the feeling that she laughed only to avoid the alternative. 
“There we are! Good as new.” Rarity admired her work for a moment then set the scarecrow back on her hooves. The good feelings only lasted until Rarity realized that she couldn't see anything beyond the small circle of her spell. “Oh dear, it got awfully dark didn't it? I can't see a thing, and I'm not very good with magic that doesn't involve sewing.”
Smartypants looked around then pointed with a stuffed hoof. “That looks like a way up over there.”
Rarity blinked at her. “You can see... in all this murk?”
The scarecrow shrugged. “I guess so. I thought you could too, but you need the sun to see, right?”
“Well, light helps, definitely.” Rarity moved toward the area that Smartypants indicated and sure enough, there was a narrow path leading back up to the road. 
The climb back up was easy, but Rarity picked up Smartypants in a cloud of magic, not wanting to have her fall again. On the other side of the gully, the forest only seemed to thicken. The white unicorn pursed her lips, not savoring the prospect of 'roughing it'; she wasn't properly dressed for it, or equipped for that matter. She had left her tent at the boutique; one of many things she wasn't willing to haul who-knows-where.
“Smartypants,” she said, frowning at the forest.
“Yes, Rarity?”
“We should probably start looking for someplace to spend the night.”
“Okay... um, what does spend the night mean?”
Rarity laughed, causing Opal to poke her head out of the basket and glare at her. "It means to sleep somewhere. If we can, I would like to find some place inside to sleep. It's safer that way.”
“Oh, okay.” Smartypants spun around in a little circle, taking Rarity's suggestion as a literal command. “How about over there?” she asked, pointing just to the left of the road.
The fashionista tried to put more power into her light spell. It flickered for a moment then kicked out a few more lumens, widening her circle about a sceptre. The light, wavering in intensity but enough for her purposes, revealed an overgrown path of red cobblestones. “What's out there?”
“Looks like a house.”
“Hm, well let's see if anypony lives there, and if they have an extra bed.”
The house at the end of the path somewhat sullenly let Rarity's light illuminate its gray, worn face. Debris littered a small garden that had long ago surrendered to weeds. The shutters on the windows hung askew, hinges rusted and many of them broken. Dirt and dust caked the glass, suggesting the clouded eyes of an elderly face that had seen too much time pass. Terracotta peppered the walk and the garden, fallen from a stooping roof. 
“Hm,” Smartypants said, tilting her head at the house, the big buttons of her eyes shifting back and forth. “It looks like nopony lives here.”
Rarity nodded. “I think you're right, so nopony won’t mind if we borrow it for tonight.”
She went up to the door, placing a hoof against it and pushing to see if it was still solid. It held up, hardly giving under her hoof, so she decided to try to open it. Her light dimmed as she shifted her focus to a strand of telekinesis, attaching it to the door's handle. A tentative tug proved insufficient to gain entry so she followed it up with three more resolute pulls. It didn't budge. 
“It's locked... or stuck,” Rarity mumbled, stooping to study the rusted keyhole under the handle.
“Locked?”
“Yes, that means you need a key to open it.” Rarity stepped back, gesturing to the keyhole. “That is where the key goes, you turn it and the lock opens and that lets you open the door.” She pouted at the lock but it was impervious to her charms. “I wish I knew more spells...”
“What are keys made of?”
Rarity glanced at the scarecrow. She was looking at the ground under the window by the door. “Well, they are usually made of some kind of metal,” she replied, distracted by her efforts at picking the lock with a thin strand of magic.
“Is metal shiny and sort of like a light brown, like a dead leaf?”
The white unicorn raised an eyebrow. “Yes, that kind of metal is called brass.”
Smartypants stooped down and picked something up with her mouth, then turned and placed it on the porch of the house with a faint clink. “Is this a key?” she asked, tilting her head to the side.
Rarity lifted the tarnished key with magic, turning it slowly in front of them. “Why yes, yes it is. Hm, I am certainly glad you can see so well, darling. Who knows how long it would have taken me to open this door.” She inserted the key into the lock, it seemed to fit just fine. “Now, to see if it’s the right one.” Her light dimmed as she turned the key, exerting more and more pressure on it. The lock complained with dry rasping and screeches. With a dainty grunt from Rarity, the key snapped sideways and the lock released with a sharp tick. She let out a little giggle. “Good job, Smartypants, I don’t know what I would do without you.”
The scarecrow’s face folded into a smile. “I’m glad I could help.”
Creaking hinges announced their entry to the spacious foyer of the old house. Cobwebs shifted in the first breath of fresh air to have entered the house in ages, releasing little showers of grey dust. It coated everything in a thick blanket, muffling Rarity’s diamond hoofsteps. The light from her horn was all that illuminated the sleeping home, casting sharp shadows that bobbed as she walked. Neither she nor the scarecrow spoke. Silence had taken up residence here; they tried not to disturb it any more than was needful. They walked through a parlor furnished with richly adorned couches, the fabric faded and rotting in the dry air, mere shadows of what they once were. The inside of the house had an eerie feel to it, as if whoever had lived there left one day and fully intended to return. 
A hat stand waited patiently in the corner, dutifully holding a knit scarf. A crystal glass and deep-bowled pipe sat on an end table next to one of the couches, awaiting their master’s return. The hearth in the parlor was set with logs, turning to dust from dry rot but still stacked in a hollow square, complete with kindling in the center. The floorboards creaked and cracked. The rest of the house settled and grumbled as if surprised to have guests so late.
A wide flight of stairs wound up to a second floor at the end of the foyer, but Rarity didn’t trust the old floorboards enough to venture upstairs. “I think we can rest here,” she said, walking over to one of the couches that looked to be in the best condition. A prod from her hoof summoned a puff of dust out of the old cushion. She wrinkled her nose at it. “Could use a bit of tidying up....” She gathered more magic to her horn and closed her eyes. 
An azure arora rippled along the ridge of her horn as her light dimmed to an imitation of starlight. A ring, three lines deep, appeared under the white unicorn and began to grow. Where the aurora passed, dust and grime ceased to be. Smartypants danced over the line of magic as it radiated out from Rarity, watching its progress with fascination. The spell ran its course and light once again flooded the room.
“Ahh,” said Rarity as she surveyed the room, “much better.” Her saddle bags left her back and floated to the floor, lining themselves up in a neat array and opening their flaps. Opal disinterestedly watched as she and the basket floated to the end table. The latch on the basket released and the cat leapt out, immediately beginning to lick herself rough. Smartypants watched this display of magic curiously, trying to follow every movement. Rarity's sleeping roll unfurled itself on the floor, followed by a light blanket. The white unicorn considered one of the cushions on the old couch but shook her head at it. “I may be good with the housekeeping spells, but I don’t trust my skills to remove who knows how many years of dust,” she rattled off, settling herself on the bedroll with a dainty yawn.
Smartypants folded her brow at the expression but she saw Rarity’s drooping eyelids and resolved to ask who it was that knew all of those things Rarity always talked about, in the morning.
“You’re welcome to share my blanket, Smartypants,” the displaced unicorn offered without thinking.
“Oh that’s fine,” Smartypants replied, “I don’t need to sleep. What do you use blankets for?”
“Ah, right,” Rarity said, shifting on the pad and spreading out the blanket on her back. “Blankets are for keeping warm, darling. Well...” She forced a tired smile for the scarecrow, not knowing how to go on. “Um, good night... Are you sure you don’t need to rest?”
“Yes, it’s okay. I like watching the sky. Did you know the stars move? They move so slow, I almost didn’t notice, but I stared at them one night and I could see them moving.”
Rarity smiled, resting her head on her forehooves and letting her light wink out. “There are an awful lot of trees in this forest.” She sighed. “You might not get to see the sky here.”
“Oh. Well I’ll look out the window, I guess.”
“Mmmm?” the sleepy unicorn yawned, “and what will you do?”
“I’ll... think about some things...”
“Hmm, that sounds nice. Thank you, Smartypants.”
The fashionista couldn’t see it of course, but Smartypants tilted her head at her companion. “For what?”
“For being a good friend, I feel a lot better with you here,” she yawned again. “Good night.”
“Good night, Rarity.”
The scarecrow situated herself at the window. Of course, Rarity was right. The trees blocked out the sky save for little patches here and there. But even in those patches she could see countless stars. She thought about her day with Rarity, about how much she had learned in so short a time. The feelings confused her, though a great many things did. Opal, satisfied with her cleaning, pounced on Smartypants’ tail, flicking the strands of thick cloth to and fro. The stuffed pony paid her no mind, letting her musings wander. Soon the cat tired of her game, since Smartypants didn’t react to her, and she curled up in the space between the scarecrow’s forelegs, purring. The scarecrow idly ran a hoof along the cat’s back.
“Someday,” she whispered to the window, “I’ll know how to be a friend to everypony, just like Rarity.”