//------------------------------//
// Chapter Two 
// Story: The Brightest Star in Her Sky 
// by Muddy Waters 
//------------------------------//

The day of the Summer Sun Solstice was the longest Smoky had ever known in her short life. The festival was as bright and loud and exciting as it was every year, but for the first time it wasn’t enough to hold the filly’s attention. She loved the bright colours of the decorations and the incredible art that was on display all around her, some that was even better than her father’s paintings, and especially the delicious food that she was only aloud to eat during festivals. But it was still not enough. Nothing could compete against her excitement for the coming night.
Ruby tried to sit her down beside him with her own little easel so she could play with paint while he sold his art. Smoky had never shown much talent for art, but it didn’t stop her father from trying to encourage her to follow in his hoofsteps. Checklist did the same thing when Smoky visited the postal office where they worked. Smoky usually didn’t mind their meddling. She was just as eager to get her cutie mark as every other foal. But today it only frustrated her.
“Something existential today, sweetie?” Ruby asked when he took a look at her canvas.
Smoky dipped her hoof into a can of dark blue paint. The canvas was already covered in swirls of blue, black and purple paint. She added another as she replied to her father. “I’m bored. Can I go home?”
Ruby sighed unhappily. “You can’t just sleep the day away, Smoky. Don’t you want to play with the other foals? Or you can go for a walk with mum when she comes back.”
She dipped her other hoof into the white paint and began dabbing at the canvas. “But I want to be awake for tonight. Princess Luna said she’d make the moon brighter, just for me! And you said you’d go flying with me.”
“And I will, but that’s no reason not to enjoy this lovely day. Princess Celestia raised the sun so we could all enjoy it. Don’t you want to respect her hard work as well?”
“Didn’t look hard,”
“Professionals make everything they do look easy.”
Smoky stepped away from her canvas, leaving blue and white prints on the grass, and went to wash her hooves clean in the wash-up bucket. Ruby frowned at the painting she had left behind and looked as though he was trying to decide what else he could say to try to change her mind. His attention was soon caught by a possible customer approaching his stall, their eyes lit up with awe. He cast one last worried glance at his daughter before hurrying to greet them.
Once her hooves were as clean as she could make them Smoky returned to her canvas and lay down in front of it. Her attempt to capture the beauty of the night had failed, as it always did. No matter how many times she tried she could not paint her memory onto the canvas the way her father did. Her attempts just never looked as good as the real thing. No matter which technique she used or how many times she mixed the paint she could not recreate the way the stars glittered in a velveteen sky or the entrancing glow of the moonlight where it stroked Canterlot’s towers or the waterfalls that poured steadily down the mountain.
Smoky sighed and laid her head on her legs with her gaze pointed away – away from the painting and away from the festival beyond Ruby’s stall. She let her eyes close and deliberately slowed her breathing bit by bit until the air was barely moving through her nose. She felt each inch of her body as it relaxed and moved steadily towards sleep.
She had almost drifted out of reach of consciousness when Ruby shook her awake and pushed her to her hooves.
“It’s the princess!” he whispered excitedly into her ear.
Blinking in the bright light Smoky stumbled against his leg and yawned. He pushed her mouth closed and made sure she was standing up straight before trotting out of his stall to greet the princess with the others nearby. Smoky couldn’t see which princess it was through the crowd just yet. She sat down to wait beside her canvas and watch over her father’s paintings while everyone else pampered the princess with attention and compliments.
She didn’t have to wait long.
The crowd parted and Smoky gasped in surprise to see Princess Luna walking slowly past the stalls. She jumped back onto her hooves and scrambled to clean up her corner. A small tin of paint went bouncing away into a bush in her rush, trailing splotches of red in its wake. Smoky chased after it with a rag gripped between her teeth. She swept up most of the mess and then tossed the rag under the bush before returning to the task of tidying the other cans. She had most of them out of the way by time the princess paused in front of her.
Smoky beamed up at her, panting.
Luna stared back, her expression slowly descending into worry.
“Are you quite alright?” she asked hesitantly.
Smoky glanced down at herself, wondering if she had caught a thorn on her coat. Ruby came out of the crowd then and swooped down on his daughter with a slightly panicked cry.
“Smoky! What have you done to yourself?” he asked, touching her face gently.
“Nothing,” Smoky replied, trying to squirm out of his grasp.
“You look like you’re covered in blood.” Ruby passed his hoof over her cheek and frowned at the red smear that had transferred to his fur. He sniffed at it tentatively. “Oh, or maybe it’s just paint.” A relieved laugh bubbled out of him as he fetched a new rag from his bag.
Luna laughed as well, in her regal way. She smiled down at Smoky.
“Have you been painting?” she asked, glancing around stall.
“Just messing around, really,” Smoky admitted, casting a bashful glance at her easel.
Luna stepped gracefully past the filly to take a close look at the canvas and the swirls of paint still drying on it. While the princess considered it Ruby went at his daughter’s face with a wet rag to clean off the red paint splattered across her muzzle and forelock. Smoky did her best to watch for the princesses’ reaction even though her father was constantly getting in the way.
“It’s quite lovely,” Luna said, smiling again down at Smoky.
The filly ducked her head, only to have it pulled back up by Ruby so he could keep scrubbing. “It’s nothing special, but I’m glad you like it, princess.”
“I hope the moonlight tonight will inspire you to paint another picture just as beautifully.”
“Oh, I can’t wait!”
Smoky squirmed excitedly, making her father laugh. Ruby finally gave trying to clean her and let her go. The filly bounced on the spot, grinning wide at the adults standing around her. The princess laughed again, softly and politely, and soon excused herself to view the rest of the stalls in the festival. Smoky continued to bounce and beam long after the princess was out of sight. With her excitement renewed she propped a new canvas on her easel and attacked it with new passion and inspiration. 
Ruby laughed as he watched his daughter use the tip of her tail like a paint-coated whip. When splatters flew past their mark and landed on his own paintings he cleaned them up swiftly but did not dare to puncture her enjoyment. He had never been one to put a stop to another pony’s joy, even if it meant spoiling his daughter. Seeing her so happy and energetic while the sun was still up was a sight he wasn’t going to let slip away too easily.
He was so delighted he agreed to hold the canvas for her when she needed it at an angle that the easel couldn’t provide. He would have laughed when her dripping tail splashed black paint across his face if he hadn’t had the canvas held in his mouth.
Smoky laughed with him.
“It suits you,” she insisted.
Ruby placed the canvas carefully back on the easel and dipped the longest feathers on his wing into an open can of silver paint.
“Well,” he said with a grin, “I think this would suit you.”
Before she could get out of reach he flung his wing out, splattering Smoky’s dark blue mane and grey ears with the bright silver paint. She dived toward the paint cans, ready to start a war, just as her mother returned to the stall with lunch for the three of them.
Checklist flattened her ears against her red and green mane as she took in the mess her childish husband and daughter had created.
“Oh, again?” she grumbled. Ruby dipped his head, blushing through his orange fur. Checklist lowered the picnic basket she was carrying with her magic and began lifting rags. “Sweet Celestia, my chores will never end with the two of you around.”