//------------------------------//
// Chapter 3: Home Again 
// Story: Flying Low 
// by Word Wizard 
//------------------------------//

	"I'm home!" Thunder Rain called, opening the door to his house for the first time in an afternoon.
"Thunder!" Both his parents called out in surprise.
"Thunder, I'm glad your safe!" Thunder's mother said, walking in from the kitchen to hug her son, "What were you doing this afternoon?"
Thunder gulped, "Uh...I've just been, uh, working on my flying!" he said shakily.
"Ah, I knew you'd warm up to it!" Thunder's father said from behind the newspaper, Equestria Daily, "I have a feeling that you're going to do better tomorrow!"
"Uh yeah," Thunder said, a little nervous about raising his father's expectations, "Well, I'm hungry, flying like that all afternoon..."
"You must be, come on into the kitchen!" Thunder's mother, Rain Verge, said, gesturing for the little dark gray colt to come into the next room.
"Thanks," Thunder said, smiling up at his mother, her brown coat shining in the torchlight, "You're the best."
"You are to, here, I have celery pie, your favorite!" Thunder's mother opened the cupboard and brought out a large savory pie, the brown crust perfect, except for the occasional celery juice leak.  Thunder liked his lips.
"So, where did you practice your flying?" Rain Verge asked, after letting her son settle into his eating for a few minutes.
Thunder took a long time chewing and swallowing that bite, all the while he was thinking of what to say.  "Well, I started over Ponyville, and made my way over Everfree forest...and came back here!"
"That's terrific, I'm glad you had a good time," His mother said, her blue eyes skeptical but believing, so far as Thunder knew.  
Taking another bite of celery pie, Thunder explained about all the dresses he saw on his trip over Ponyville, he knew this was probably a bad idea, but he just had to tell somepony.  As she listened, Rain Verge's ears slowly went down, her previously hopeful face turning back to frustration.
"What's your obsession with garments!" Rain Verge threw up her hooves in frustration while glaring at the dark gray colt that lay in front of her, "Why, when I was your age, I hated clothes!  All the other mares were sewing, sewing sewing sewing, but I wanted to fly in the Wonderbolts, I used to sit up nights, dreaming.  And now, YOU, my only son, come along and want to do horrible things like Sew?" Rain Verge, appropriate to her name, had a tendency to be completely complacent for awhile, but explode after a few weeks.  This was this months explosion.
"I'm sorry ma, it's just.." Thunder tried to defend himself, "I don't like clothing, I'm sorry I said all those things."
"Well good, and if I were you, young colt, I'd go for proper things that colts your age do, like flying!" Said Thunders mother, her rage subsiding at last, "It's been quite an evening, now go upstairs and go to bed!  And think about your life," She added, snidely before retreating to her own bedroom for the evening.
Thunder Rain plodded out to the front porch to watch the sun set.  The cool night breeze wafted through Cloudsdale, fluttering flags and blowing Thunders yellow mane to the side.  Watching the sky, Thunder noticed many other pegasi colts, around his age, playing in the clouds.  Thunder watched and sighed, thinking to himself, If mother wanted to be a Wonderbolt when her parents were urging her to be a dress maker, how come she doesn't understand me? Thinking troubled thoughts like these, the little dark gray colt watched the yellow ball of sun disappear beyond the horizon. 
After the first few stars came out, Thunder turned his mind to sewing...secretly.  Walking over to the bushes where he hid the saddlebags containing his most prized possessions only an hour before; he dug around in the foliage until his hoof hit leather, and he pulled out the saddlebags.  Now, to get these up to my room.... Thunder thought, plotting in his head how to sneak past his father with the bags.
The task was a lot easier than he thought, Storm Valor, wrapped up in his newspaper didn't look over his shoulder as his son departed up the stairs.
"Goodnight, Thunder," He called to his son, waving a hoof in his general direction, "Have a good sleep."
"Uh, goodnight dad," Thunder said, hastily continuing up the steps before Storm looked in his direction.
Safely behind the oaken door of his bedroom, Thunder unpacked the saddlebags, smiling in glee as he took one bolt of fabric out after the next,finally followed by the little metal locket containing the needle and spools of thread. 
For many happy hours he sewed away in the candlelight, glancing at the clock only occasionally.  After producing a, err, piece of, for lack of a  better word, 'thing' he packed away his materials, and admired his work.  Holding the 'thing' up to the candlelight, he smiled, being very proud of this 'thing' and wondering what Rarity was going to make of it in a weeks time.  If I do this kind of work for the whole week, who knows what I'll have created? he thought to himself excitedly.  
But, as much as he hated it, he was tired.  Glancing over his shoulder at the clock, he jumped a little to see it was almost eleven o'clock, when he had started at seven!  Thunder quickly blew out his candle and got into bed, falling asleep with dreams of what he would create the next night.