//------------------------------// // Chapter 1: Incentive // Story: Boundaries // by Carapace //------------------------------// Wind rushed past her ears, her mane whipped behind her like a rainbow colored flag in the middle of a hurricane. Rainbow Dash narrowed her eyes and went into a quick roll to slip through the last cloud ring, then made a hard bank down and to the right, shooting toward the finish line. A small yellow, orange, and blue dot stood on the cloudbase. I can do this! I’m gonna make it! She flapped her wings faster. The wind trailed off her sides, like it couldn’t even stand touching her. The friction gripped and tugged at her coat like it was struggling to hold on. Nothing could catch her, nothing could stop her from reaching her goals when she set her mind to it. Her friends, her family, they all stood behind her in spirit, their cheers echoing in Rainbow’s ears as she sped toward the line. The yellow, orange, and blue dot grew as she drew closer and closer to her goal, taking on a more defined shape—fiery mane, wings as yellow as the shining sun, and a deep blue sport jacket worn proudly. Spitfire held one hoof out in front, glancing from Rainbow to something in hoof and back again, almost as if sending a silent command. Rainbow could swear she heard her voice over the rush of wind. “Hurry up. Cutting it close.” No! I’m gonna make it this time! She pushed forward, folding her wings against her sides to enter a sharp dive, like a falcon swooping down on its prey. Gonna do it! I’m gonna beat it!  The whistling in her ears, the rapidly approaching clouds, the adrenaline pumping through her veins as she pushed her body to the absolute limit to beat her target, all brought her to a high like no other—not even some of those crazy party drugs Vinyl told her about could even compare to this. She was one with the wind—no. The wind was chasing her. Rainbow gave a tight-lipped smile—a trick Spitfire herself taught her to avoid catching bugs—and flared her wings just in time to swoop over the cloud and cross the finish line. “Time!” she yelled as she went streaking by Spitfire. Her hooves touched down on the soft cloud surface. Her lungs burned, aching for breath. Rainbow tore her flight goggles from her face and let them hang limp around her neck as she gasped for air. Somehow, the sleek, form-fitting flight suit—Wonderbolt blue and yellow—seemed to compress her insides, squeezing her like a tube of toothpaste. Every breath was a fight against the suit itself. But she’d be bucked in the head if it didn’t feel good. Pushing herself, fighting to get that extra burst of speed in before her dive—the thrill of fighting her own limitations as a pegasus. This is what it takes, she told herself, the corners of her mouth tugging upward. This is what it takes to be a Wonderbolt. The soft thudding of hooves on cloud made her ears prick up. Glancing out of the corner of her eye, she caught sight of Spitfire dangling a water bottle near her shoulder. “Nice flying, Dash,” she said smoothly. “Coming along pretty good. Take a drink, you’ve earned it.” Rainbow shook her head. “What’s my time?” Spitfire stared a moment, then sighed. “Just take a drink, Dash. We can discuss your performance in my office after—” “Cap, please,” she cut in, desperation tinging her voice. “What’s my time?” Another sigh. Spitfire glanced at her stopwatch. “You’re on the wrong side of the cutoff, Dash. You still need to shave a little time off to make it.” Her heart sank. Rainbow lowered her gaze and closed her eyes. Don’t cry, don’t scream. She took a deep breath in through her nose and held it a moment, just like Twilight taught her. I have time. I have time to make my time. Slowly, she let it out. “How far off?” “Not far at all, really. Three seconds. You’ve got two weeks before the time trial, and your scores in the stunt and coordination trials should hit right on the money if you keep what you’ve been doing.” Spitfire gave a chuckle. “And you destroy the straight sprint—it’s just combining speed with precision that slows you a touch.” Groaning, she stomped into the cloud, burying her hoof deep within its fluff. “Lightning rutting—how? I’m going as fast as I can! If I go any faster, I might as well be doing a Sonic Rainboom!” “Actually—” Spitfire held up a hoof “—that’s really not a good idea. With the speeds you’d be going to pull that off, I don’t know if you’d be able to make turns that tight.” “I’ve done it before!” “Yes, making one turn—you pulled up and then shot off. Look at the track, Dash.” Spitfire waved at the course, showing off how it weaved and dipped at odd intervals, forcing flyers to bank on a bit in order to make it through the cloud rings. “It’s designed to make you be smart in how you use your speed—remember what we talked about? Using a little strategy in that?” Rainbow sighed and picked up the bottle. “Yeah,” she mumbled, popping the cap to take a long drink of cool water. Wiping the back of her hoof across her mouth, she looked up to Spitfire. “So what is it I’m doing wrong, then? I’ve been putting my weight into my turns like you said, but I still feel like I’m pulling too wide.” Spitfire stayed quiet a moment, humming to herself. “Honestly? Your banks are fine, Dash. You could maybe stand to lead a little more with your head when you go into a turn, but your form isn’t the issue.” She turned away and looked toward the locker room across the cloud, then looked down at the surface. “If anything, you’ve just gotta really focus on this for a couple weeks. Work on picking your spots—you blaze through the first parts, then end up having to slow yourself down in the middle because the course gets a little jumbled around turn four. By turn six, you’ve lost the bulk of your speed and have to get it back for turns nine and ten, and then you end up hedging your bet on a falcon dive. It’s not bad, but it won’t get you the spot you want. The most I could do with your time right now is list you as an alternate.” “An alternate?” she repeated, her voice shrill. “I—I—Come on, Captain! You said it yourself! I kill those other trials!” “You’ve gotta pass all of the trials, Dash.” Her brows knitted together. “The hay kind of talk is this, rookie? I know you’re better than this—I know I taught you better than this half-effort, excuse-making load of horseapples.” She shot to her hooves, a sharp retort on fresh on her tongue. But she stopped. Deep breath in, deep breath out.  Rainbow closed her eyes, focusing on the smiling faces of her friends and family, all waiting for her back home. Each of them wishing her good luck before she went off, telling her to do her best and leave it all on the line. No excuses. This is my shot. “I’m not trying to make excuses,” she said after a moment, hanging her head low. “I’m sorry.” A hoof touched her shoulder, Rainbow turned to find Spitfire looking at her with a small smile, and an odd look in her eyes. “I know, Dash. I know. It’s tough, and our standards aren’t easy.” “Don’t have to tell me twice,” Rainbow mumbled. “Just getting an invitation is a pain in the—” hearing Spitfire clear her throat, she turned to find the smile and fond look gone, replaced by a stern glare once again. She winced. “Er… ear?” she offered, forcing a smile. Spitfire held her glare for a moment, those brilliant orange eyes boring into hers. But as the tense seconds ticked on, her lips curved into an amused grin. “No,” she said, “you had it right the first time—it’s a pain in the flank, and rightfully so.” Her smile dropped, her expression serious once again. “We are expected to be the best and recruit the next generation, Dash. No breaks for anypony, whether they be nobles, national heroines several times over—” she broke off to nod to Dash, a gesture almost like a little bow of her head “—or the princesses themselves. We all went through it.” There it was. The constant reminder, the subtle little push she always loved to give. Everypony who wore the blue and gold went through it properly, and so would Rainbow Dash. Ponyville did Winter Wrap Up the earth pony way, the Wonderbolts set the bar high and only took those who passed it consistently. It was a small mercy Captain Spitfire took the time to help her, rather than foisting it off on a subordinate or scoffing and flicking her tail in Rainbow’s direction, leaving her with nothing more than a “Figure it out yourself, kid”. Rainbow took another sip of water, then poured a bit over her head. “Alright, fine. I’ll pass your time trial.” She paused, a sly grin played upon her lips. “But when I do, there’d better not be any sneaky extra tasks!” she cried, thrusting the tip of the bottle at Spitfire as if it were a spear. “I’ve got a perpetually pranking pink pony friend on my side, and I’m not afraid to call in a favor!” Snorting, Spitfire turned and flicked her fiery tail across Rainbow’s nose. “If you think you can out-prank the entire top squad, you and your little friend are welcome to try!” she crooned, looking back over her shoulder through half-lidded eyes. A sharp intake of breath, Rainbow fought to keep her feathers from ruffling. That was the look—the look every red-blooded Bolts fan knew and dreamed about. Orange eyes boring into them, a playful smirk, almost as though she were just daring them to try their luck and play along… Just like the posters, Rainbow thought. When had her mouth gone dry again? She hastily took another sip of water, just as Spitfire laughed and began trotting toward the locker rooms, a little saunter in her step and a sway in her hips. Her eyes bugged out as the water went down the wrong way. She sputtered and coughed, pounding her chest. “You okay back there, Dash?” Spitfire called, her voice tinged with amusement. “C’mon, don’t go drowning yourself before you take a shower—you’d only smell twice as bad as a sweaty corpse.” Unable to offer reply, Rainbow settled for a weak glare until her coughing subsided. Way to go, Dash. Minus fifty awesome points for inhaling water in front of the Captain of the freaking Wonderbolts. She wiped spittle from her muzzle, giving a sheepish grin. “Just took on a bit more than I could a little too fast.” “Heh, rookie mistake.” She shook her head and tutted. “You’ll wanna clean that up before tryouts. If you make it, it’s our sacred duty to kidnap you for drinks afterward.” Raising a brow, Rainbow bounded to Spitfire’s side. “Kidnap?” she asked, falling into pace. “You’re not gonna tell me ponies try to weasel out of it.” “A couple, yeah. Usually, I send Fleetfoot to chase them down, and Soarin to sneak up and catch them. For you? I might make it my personal duty.” Rainbow’s brow arched higher, a playful smirk crossed her muzzle. “Think you can keep up?” Spitfire turned. “Make the team first, then try to run. See what happens.” With a snort, she cuffed Rainbow over the back of her head with a wing. “If you can make it past the edge of the cloud before I catch you, dinner at a restaurant of your choice is on me.” A challenge from Spitfire? Dang right I’m all over that. “You’re on!” Her smirk broadened into a full-blown grin. “Hope you’ve saved up, Cap, ‘cuz you’re takin’ me to the top of the line!” Another snort and a shake of her head. Spitfire didn’t dignify that with a reply, instead favoring to continue her brisk trot across the field. Playing it calm and cool like always. Typical, and quite fitting for the Captain of the Wonderbolts. Her thoughts flitted back to all the magazines, all the sports cards sitting in a box in her home. All images of the Wonderbolts’ greatest flyers, her heroes. And sitting at the top of that list were always the big officers. Commander Easyglider, Admiral Fairweather, Admiral Fairy Flight, and General Flash, all the pegasi who shaped the culture of the world’s greatest flight team. Getting in was a feat in and of itself, but making officer put them at the very pinnacle of the team’s history. Lieutenants Fleetfoot and Soarin were certainly up there—her top speed and his power flying made them both living legends in that regard. And why not throw in Misty Fly? Or Blaze and Firestreak? The entirety of the top squad could probably qualify for the Wonderbolts Hall of Fame if they decided to retire all together. Spitfire, though, was different. She didn’t quite match Fleetfoot’s top sprint speed or the sheer power of Soarin’s wingbeats—but, really, who did? First Lieutenant Soarin had those ridiculously large things growing out of his back, a single flap and he was rocketing off—but when she took wing she didn’t fly through the sky. She owned it. Every bank, every dive, every flip or spin, Spitfire hit it hard and on the number, sending ponies in the crowd whooping with joy and stomping their hooves like a thundering herd. From a dead start, she took off so fast even Fleetfoot had to race to keep up and then make pace—what was it the Cloudsdale Chronicle said when she made her rookie debut? Ah, yes. “When Spitfire hits the starting line, don’t blink. She’ll be done with her first lap by the time you open your eyes again.” Sure, a bit of an exaggeration, but a younger Rainbow Dash ate it up and made sure to follow Spitfire’s career from her debut show, to her famous race in Saddle Arabia, to the breakneck speed she seemed to climb the rank to Captain of the top squad. Spitfire owned the sky, and the Wonderbolts knew it enough to give her the rank despite her age. And she’d seen fit to offer Rainbow help to take that last step on her way to reaching her dream. “I wanted you on our squad,” Spitfire had admitted in private, having pulled Rainbow aside after apologizing at the Equestria Games Qualifiers. “You’re Cloudsdale born and raised, Dash. By right, you should’ve been on our radar, but they went with the three top officers. Shouldn’t have lied to you or Soarin, and I’ll pay for that for a good long while, but I didn’t do it to hurt either of you. I did it because it’s my job to get the best ponies on Team Cloudsdale. But, like you said, Ponyville’s your home now, and I respect that loyalty. Good luck when we get to the Crystal Empire, Dash—” she’d stopped and grinned “—just get ready to eat my dust!” The memory alone was enough to send the adrenaline rushing through Rainbow’s veins. Whether or not it had been intended, their private exchange stayed with her until the Games—every second she wasn’t working or helping out a friend with a problem, she was locked in training. Just like when Spitfire came to her as she prepared for tryouts and offered help, Rainbow jumped at the chance. More time spent with Spitfire meant she was closer to her achieving her dream. Not to mention time spent with one of her heroes-turned-friends. Maybe I could stand to spend a little more time with her, she thought, glancing at Spitfire out of the corner of her eye. Not just training. Dinner was on the table, albeit part of a bet if Spitfire paid for it. But if Rainbow offered… A little voice in her head, sounding suspiciously like Rarity, pointed out that sounded awfully like the setup for a date. Shut up, Rares. It wasn’t a date. It would just be two mares sharing dinner, talking a little bit about the upcoming tryouts or whatever else came up. Totally different. Especially if it was a sports bar and alcohol was involved. Rarity’s stupid, knowing giggles sounded in her head. Naturally, Rainbow did the mature thing, stuffed the voice in a little mental box, and kicked it into the deepest, darkest recesses of her mind. One more word out of you, and I’ll do… something unpleasant. To real you. Just shut up. As they approached the door to the mares’ locker rooms, Rainbow stopped. “Hey, Cap,” she said, “er… got a question for you.” “Oh yeah? Shoot.” Spitfire leaned against the wall, crossing one hoof over the other. A hoof went to the back of her rainbow mane, rubbing at a patch that just seemed like it was out of place. “Do you think we could maybe grab dinner or something—I can pay!” she added hastily. “Just hanging out, y’know? Mare to mare.” She cursed her inner Rarity to the depths of Tartarus. It had to be her fault, she was making Rainbow nervous somehow. That was the only explanation she could find for the rambling. Rainbow Dash did not ramble in front of a fellow awesome pony. Minus fifty points again. C’mon, stop making yourself look bad! “No,” Spitfire said. Rainbow’s ears drooped. “O-Oh. Er, well, sorry to bother you. Just thought—” A yellow hoof pressed against her lips. “I don’t mean ‘no’ as in ‘no, I don’t want to get dinner with you’. I mean ‘no’ as in ‘we can’t right now’,” Spitfire explained. “Not in the position we’re in.” “Because of tryouts?” “Bingo. Coaching you and letting you drink with us as a team is fine. But if you get seen with, say, Soarin, Fleet, or me alone?” She shook her head and snorted. “Command would have our hides, Dash; say bye-bye to your dream of joining the Bolts, and I’d lose my rank.” Her ears laid flat against her scalp. “All that over dinner?” “Nepotism isn’t something we take lightly in the Bolts. Anypony who gets in has to go through the process the same way we all did.” Spitfire turned to walk away, her orange tail flicked behind her almost dismissively. Rainbow cringed, hanging her head. She rubbed a hoof against her shin, her gaze kept fixed on the clouds at her hooves. “Sorry, Cap,” she said, her voice barely above a murmur. “Didn’t think about that.” Spitfire’s steps stopped. She took in a deep breath and held it a moment, letting it out slowly. “It’s alright, Dash,” she replied after a moment. “Just trying to keep both of us out of trouble. Doesn’t matter that neither of us would cut corners like that, all it takes is one pony saying something.” Sighing, Rainbow raised her head and ran a hoof through her mane—why in Equestria did it have to be so stubbornly messy today? She opened her mouth to reply, but shut it and just nodded. No way to argue the point. Ponies talked. A lot. Rumors flew faster than even her Sonic Rainboom could spread its color over the land. Her hoof left her mane. She reached out for the door, the thud of her hoof on heavy wood jarred her out of her lapse. Speak up. Thank her for training, Applejack’s voice echoed in her head. She could almost feel her friend giving her a little push. Remember your manners, and things will work out. Sending mental thanks toward the real Applejack, Rainbow turned to call out to Spitfire. “Thanks for your help, Cap,” she said. “I appreciate it a lot. I really do.” Spitfire stopped and turned, offering a small smile. “Anytime. It’s nice to work with a pony willing to take advice and apply it, not to mention one with your drive.” Nodding, the turned away. “See you tomorrow for our next session, Rainbow Dash. Remember, don’t be late or I’ll have you flying laps around Cloudsdale ‘till your wings fall off!” A bark of laughter escaped her throat. That old threat, the same one Spitfire used to scream at hapless cadets who dared come in late on Reserve Weekends. They were cool. “Pfft! Only way I’m late is if you cheat and set your watch ahead!” she shot back, snickering as she pushed the door open and stepped inside. The door closed behind her with a soft thud. Rainbow let out a long sigh, trotting over to her locker. With a twist of the latch, she pulled open the metal door and tossed her bottle inside. The resounding crash, amplified by the tight quarters, made her wince and lay her ears flat, but felt oddly satisfying. A nice, private chance to vent her self-aimed ire. Think before you act! Consider all ramifications before you make a push for something risky! She rolled her eyes at Twilight’s voice. “Little late there, Twi,” she muttered, snatching her navy towel with her name written in gold stylized lettering. “Could’ve used that when I tried asking Cap out for…” Rainbow grimaced and slammed the locker door to drown out inner Rarity’s voice. “Dinner. Just dinner. Between two mares,” she finished lamely. “Shut up, Rares.” So what if Spitfire was her favorite Wonderbolt when she was toiling away in lower ranks of Ponyville’s Weather Team, using her weather schedule and cloud pushing as her time to throw in a little bit of training with her work? So what if there were no less than three posters of “Cloudsdale’s Blazing Skydancer” hanging in her room? Those were just the remnants of fillyhood idolizing, before she knew Spitfire the mare instead of looking up to Spitfire the Wonderbolt. Rainbow still blamed the excited squeal and subsequent blush when Spitfire offered to train her on Fluttershy. The hastily added, “I—That’d be great! If you don’t mind helping, that is…” was especially her fault. Just like Pinkie was to blame for the way she had to fly home as fast as she could so she had a little privacy when she bounced off the walls of her cloud house after Spitfire grinned and said, “I want the best on my team, Dash. Nothing in the rulebook says I can’t train you up as long as I abstain from the observing committee.” If it’d been a dream, she would’ve cursed Luna’s name to the moon and back. That would’ve been way too cruel. Taking her twine bag with soap and shampoo in hoof, she made her way over to the showers, her ears laid flat against her scalp as if to block out her friends’ voices as they teased her in her own mind. Something to say about how much they’d influenced her over the course of their time together, of course. The idea that they served as her guides, even when she was away. With a flick of her hoof, Rainbow turned on the water, deftly stepping out of the way of the stream. Used to the chill of rain showers on her back or not, a cold shower after an intense workout ranked about a minus twenty on the awesome scale. Completely not cool. Well, it was cool, but not cool. Rainbow shook her head. Dear Celestia, I’m starting to argue my own wording. Twi’s getting to me. She stepped into the stream, wincing at the sudden feeling of steaming water raining down on her head and racing down the back of her neck. A tiny moan escaped her lips as her muscles began to unclench and relax, loosening up under the constant barrage. “Hot damn,” she mumbled, giving her wings a little flex to work out the aches. A contented smile played upon her lips as she arched her back and swished her dripping tail. “Nothing better! Full-bore, flank-kicking workout, and a nice, warm shower.” “Can’t argue with that!” Spitfire’s voice called from out in the locker area. Rainbow squawked, her hooves slipped and nearly sent her sprawling sideways. “C-Cap! You heard all that?” Her ears flicked at the low chuckle Spitfire gave. “I just walked in, Dash. Only caught the bit about a nice, warm shower after a workout. Anyway, got a little proposition for ya.” The soft thud of hooves on soft cloud floor echoed, growing closer until the tip of Spitfire’s yellow muzzle poked around the corner. “Bit of an addition to—” Just as she turned the corner and came face-to-face with Rainbow, she trailed off, her eyes going wide. For a brief moment, she stared, then looked away. “Er, sorry. Dunno why that caught me off guard,” she mumbled, leaning up against the wall and crossing her forelegs one over the other. Oh, can’t pass this up! Rainbow thought with a grin. “Probably struck dumb by the sight of my raw awesomeness!” She whipped her mane and struck a pose—her wings flared out to fullest extent, a hoof held against the back of her head, and a winning grin on her muzzle, one from a certain magazine she’d seen Spitfire pose for a couple years back. “Can’t blame ya, Cap! It was only a matter of time since you spend so much of it training me!” With a roll of her eyes and glance toward the ceiling, Spitfire shook her head. “Yeah, right. That must be it.” Though she was turned away, Rainbow was quite pleased to note an amused grin on her face. “Anyway, got a little alteration to our deal. Let’s call it a bit of incentive for you to hit your mark at the trials—extra incentive, that is.” Blinking, Rainbow turned to face her fully, the steady beat of water upon her back rather than her head and neck. “More incentive than making it to the Wonderbolts?” “I said extra incentive,” Spitfire replied, with added emphasis on. “Making the Bolts is your primary objective, this is just a little something to sweeten the deal. If you’re up for it, that is.” Tilting her head to the side, Rainbow stepped out of the shower, water dripping off her sides as she moved closer. “Sweeten it how?” she asked. “That dinner you were asking about?” Rainbow’s ears perked up to full height, but Spitfire never saw it. “The one that can’t happen because it’d be nepo… nepo…” She furrowed her brows and shook her head. “Cheating. That one?” “Yeah, that one.” Giving a little chuckle, Spitfire nodded. “Look, you are just outside the mark for the time trial. But you’re close. Hit the mark, and you’re in. If you shave off those three seconds you need, and you hit your marks on all the other trials like you have been, you’ll make the team.” She turned, her eyes locked with Rainbow’s. “Do yourself a favor and put in a little extra practice at home—see if you can get your Weather Team to help set up a course. You know the basic design, right?” Nodding, Rainbow couldn’t stop the grin from slowly spreading across her muzzle. “Yeah, totally!” she said, her voice tinged with excitement. “I can have them help me whip it up no problem, and Twilight’ll help time me! Just gotta keep it outside town limits or above three hundred feet—and that’s if Mayor Mare—” A yellow hoof pressed against her mouth. Spitfire’s eyes seemed to dance with amusement. “Alright. So, get that set up, run through it a few times when you’re off duty. Maybe do a little extra cloud pushing to get your endurance up, y’know? Every little bit helps.” Another nod. She tilted her head back and brushed Spitfire’s hoof away from her mouth. “So, work a little harder to cut down my time and I’ll make it?” “Bingo. If you cut off three seconds and make the team, I’ll let you take me to dinner and hang out with you after the tryout. Our team tradition of getting you plastered won’t kick in until you officially join at the ceremony, so that’ll be our little thing.” “Er, Cap, won’t that make ponies think I cheated?” Rainbow pointed out. “If we hang out before the official thing?” Spitfire shook her head. “The ceremony is a lot of pomp and circumstance—it’s really just for the cameras and all the fans. You’re a Bolt as soon as the judges say you’re in, but we wait until the ceremony for the big party.” Beaming, she gave a little rustle of her wings. “Well, as long as we can’t get in trouble, I’m cool with it!” It took every bit of her self-control not to do a little prancing jig in place. Nope! Already lost enough points on the awesome scale! Play it cool in front of Cap, let it out at home. “So, mind giving me my time so I know what I’m working with?” “Sure thing.” Spitfire reached into her jacket pocket and pulled out her stopwatch, holding it out for Rainbow to see. “You’re at one minute, thirty-two seconds. I need you at one twenty-nine to pass the trial.” She slipped the watch back into her pocket, offering a supportive smile. “Think you can pull it off?” Rainbow opened her mouth to reply, something cocky and full of her usual bravado, but stopped short. Something about the smile was different. Not quite the typical smirk or silent approval of her captain. Warm, holding a bit of fondness. She took a step back, jolting slightly as she backed her tail into the stream. She’s pulling for me? Damn the awesome scale. She couldn’t help the bright grin this time. Rainbow snapped a quick salute and puffed out her chest. “I’ll give it everything I’ve got and more, Captain!” Spitfire stomped a hoof on the ground. “That’s what I like to hear!” Stepping forward into the shower, she laid a hoof on Rainbow’s shoulder. “I’m sure you’ve got this, Dash. Just keep at it on your free time and give it your all, here and at home. I expect to see you in our uniform soon enough.” Without another word, she turned and strode from the locker room, leaving Rainbow alone with her thoughts. For a moment, she stood in silence. Slowly, Rainbow let herself fall back to her haunches, holding her hoof to her chest and taking deep breaths to calm her racing heart. Cap’s pulling for me. All my friends are pulling for me, she thought. Three seconds? That’s foal’s play! “I’m gonna shave off four!” Rainbow leapt to her hooves, her wings ruffled up and all aches seemed to wash from her body. Ready to fly again. Damn being tired, she had a dream to chase and a bet to win.