The Haunting
Admiral Biscuit
I couldn’t sleep.
What was the forest doing? What had Milfoil felt in the forest?
If I got an explanation at all—which was unlikely until the morning; she was fast asleep—I probably wouldn’t understand it. And that just made it worse. I could imagine any number of ponies all standing around and nodding, all feeling whatever she did, and me left out of the loop.
Or did they not feel it unless they wanted to? Unless they actively sought it? Unless they, too, went through the forest and felt it for themselves?
I thought that that was a possibility. If there was some major disturbance in the force, surely they would have all felt it in town.
Wouldn’t they?
Nature was complicated, and sometimes it didn’t take too much to upset the balance, and then what? Maybe I hadn’t felt the magic when I did the Running of the Leaves, but I’d sure seen the leaves fall as ponies went by the trees, and there was no human explanation for it. It had to be pony magic causing it.
What had Milfoil felt?
She hadn’t been overly concerned—at least I didn’t think she was. I wasn’t the best at reading pony emotions, but I would have known if she was scared of something. If she thought that Windflower was unintentionally turning the forest into a monster. So I could rule that out—I should rule that out. What possibilities did that leave?
Sometimes, back on Earth, there would be clusters of dead trees alongside the road. Something had killed them, probably something mundane like bugs or a tree disease. Could that happen here? Was her existence sapping the life of the forest? Would the trees fail to bud in the springtime?
That was unlikely. That was something that Milfoil could have explained to me. I wouldn’t have known the exact mechanism, but if she’d said ‘the trees are dying,’ I would have understood that. So that couldn’t be what she’d felt.
Maybe it was a rejection she was feeling. The forest knew that she didn’t belong, and was reacting to that. Which made me wonder if it was trying to push her out, somehow.
And if it was, did Windflower feel it, too? If she could, did she not know why?
•••••
When I got home from work, there were a bunch of crafting supplies on the kitchen table.
“More Hearth’s Warming decorations?”
Milfoil shook her head. “Well, sort of. You should make a Hearth’s Warming doll.”
“A doll?”
“Sure, it’s tradition.”
“What is it supposed to look like? I’m not good at making dolls. I’m not good at sewing.” I didn’t know that for an actual fact since I’d never tried, but it seemed likely.
“It doesn’t matter what it looks like,” Milfoil said. “A doll is traditional, but how its made, a lot of ponies have different ideas. Like, cloth or sticks and plants, or even rocks. We always made them out of fabric, but you don’t have to. Do what feels right to you.”
“Will you help me?”
She nodded.
I looked down at the supplies. This felt like a spiritual quest. How was I supposed to know what to make? I didn't think spiritual quests were real, anyway. People would just say that they felt something they didn’t, I was sure. Or they’d hallucinate because of boredom or sleep deprivation or drugs. But my inner skeptic couldn’t explain away pony magic.
“Is this one of those pony magic things? Does the inspiration just flow through you?”
“It’s not exactly the same,” she said. “Maybe for some ponies it would be. Unicorns sometimes do spells where the magic channels itself through their horn, I’ve heard of that. Especially when a pony gets her cutie mark. Earth pony magic doesn’t usually work that way; it’s like listening to the sound of the land and adding your own song to it.”
“Is that why you were humming when you were healing Windflower’s plant?”
“I wasn’t humming.”
“Yes you were. I could feel it.”
“You—” Her eyes went wide. “You felt the magic! That’s what it was.”
“I don’t know. . . .”
“Trust me.” She leaned forward and kissed me. “You’re turning into a proper pony.”
“How long before my hands fall off and I grow a tail?”
“Silly.” Milfoil blew a raspberry. “I wish it was springtime, that’s the easiest time to feel it. All the plants are singing then. But I think that when we go out into the forest again, we can try it—it’s probably going to be easiest for you to feel it when you’re in the woods instead of the house. Plus, it helps to have your hooves on actual soil.”
“Maybe if I had a pot of dirt to put my feet in, I’d be more inspired with my Hearth’s Warming doll.”
She turned her head towards the living room. “You’ve got plenty of flowers, and they wouldn’t miss a bit of soil.”
•••••
Milfoil didn’t make good on her threat to provide me with a pot of dirt, and I did manage to make a Hearth’s Warming doll. It looked kind of like a gingerbread man, with one leg just a bit longer than the other. She assured me that that was just fine.
I had started to get into it once I began crafting. I made a few paper templates before moving to fabric, just to get an idea what it might look like once I was done. That had really helped, and had given me a pattern to work off of. If I’d been smart, I would have folded it down the middle when I cut it out, and it would have been symmetrical at least.
The stitching wasn’t all that great, either, but it did the job.
“I assume you already have a Hearth’s Warming doll.”
She nodded.
“What about Windflower? Should we make her one?”
Milfoil thought about that. “It’s really not traditional to make a Hearth’s Warming doll for somepony else. I suppose in some cases, it would be all right; some families do make them for their foals when they’re too young to make their own, although that’s with the idea that they’ll get replaced once the foal’s old enough.
“Plus, if we did, it might not mean anything to her—it might not be how she sees herself.”
I picked up my creation. “I don’t see myself in this.”
“It’s not supposed to be an exact likeness. It’s just something that you made, not something that I made, or that you bought at the store. Your doll has a personal connection, and every time you see it, you’ll remember making it.”
I suppose that was true. Back at home, my parents’ tree contained a few ornaments I’d made in elementary school. I didn’t specifically remember making them, but I did recognize kindergarten me’s sloppy handwriting on it, and even if it didn’t bring back specific memories of sitting in class and making it, it did remind me of being a kid every time I saw it.
“Maybe her great uncle still has one of hers. She might have made one with him, or he could have kept one as a keepsake. If he does, that would be perfect. I’m sure he’d let us put it on the mantle.”
“We still need to take him back into the woods,” I said. “Now that you’ve marked the path. Maybe we can do that tomorrow; and we could ask him then, after we’ve shown him her resting place.”
•••••
We didn’t put the Hearth’s Warming dolls up on the mantle—Milfoil thought that it might distress Windflower to only see a pair of dolls. I thought she might be distressed just seeing mine, and I wouldn’t blame her if she was.
It didn’t really matter. Once again, she was eager to play with the plant. She ghost-galloped right into the living room without even waiting to see who was there, and she did a few eager circles around the pot before focusing her attention directly on it.
She traced her hooves up and down the stem, and touched all the leaves with her muzzle, working her way up from the base.
“We ought to get it its own pot,” I said. Windflower wasn’t paying any attention to me anyway.
“One that’s more appropriately sized. I can do that tomorrow, it won’t be any trouble at all. And we ought to adjust the plants some so that it gets plenty of light, too. It might start to curve towards the fireplace if it isn’t getting enough natural sunlight.”
“Plants wanting to get close to a fire could only end badly.”
“Yeah.”
“She’s got some kind of attachment to that plant.”
Milfoil nodded and lowered her voice. “I think she planted them herself. That’s very important for an earth pony. I know the whole garden wasn’t hers, but she had a row to herself. And I think that she never got to see them grow and bloom. I think that when she came back to the house, they were already going dormant for the season, and she never got to see them in bloom.”
“Does that work with the timeline?”
“I don’t know. I don’t know when she came back. But I do know that the garden got abandoned right after . . . right after it happened.”
I put my hand on Milfoil’s back. “Do you think she came back just to watch her plants blossom?”
“I might,” Milfoil admitted, then she shook her head. “I don’t know. I don’t know what’s motivating her, and I don’t know if we’ll ever solve the whole puzzle. Maybe in the springtime she’ll be a garden ghost.”
“I’m sure she could do a better job of it than I could.”
You know, when they eventually find and retrieve her remains, I'm starting to think a little plot just outside of the garden where she can watch the flowers bloom and keep an eye on the house might be the ticket. I live in a rural area where more than one house includes a small marked plot of relatives off to one side, out of the way, and anybody who buys the house later has an unspoken agreement with the family to keep it up, and to allow access on certain occasions.
Could be, could very well be. She's certainly fixated on them.
Also, "ghost-galloped" evokes an absolutely adorable image. Yey.
I admit, I was not expecting that chapter. Still, I'm glad you got it out! It was lovely, albeit a bit short.
Now you know that you have to explain what Milfoil felt, right?
I remember a pack of seeds being in the attic. Maybe she can interact with and plant them.
I wonder what Windflower's cutie mark was, or if she had one before she died.
The way she's brought our protagonist and Milfoil together I wouldn't be surprised if it was a bridal veil—
—or a ball and chain.
Oh!
The touchy/no-touchy is something of a conglomerate between Earth Pony Magic, Arcanic Sympathy, and Ghost Logic!
This explains why familiarity has such a tangible affect.
How would it work for a Unicorn Ghost?
Or a Pegasus Ghost?
*grasps his heart, eyes bulging* Gaaagh! GUUUUHH!!!! WHAT ARE YOU DOING TO MEEEEEEE?!?
When the rice stalks bows their heads, the bandits will come. When the cicadas sing loudest, summer is dying. And when the flowers bloom in the spring, ghost fillies depart.
Had a couple of those myself. The big one though was nothing of the sort. It was a teabell. One of those big acorn-shaped ones that screws together. Every time my parents took it back, I went to find it, and hang it on the tree. Eventually they gave up and just let it be an ornament.
I'm 36, and there's a teabell on the tree every year.
what a lovely chapter ! now they hone in on the theory's what keeps her coming back. also the worldbuilding around earthpony magic is something you don't see often
Am I the only who is confused by this? I can't find anything which would explain this section.
I think they will have Timberwolves to worry about in Spring, and not that Windflower is corrupting the woods any.
The other flowers out in the garden will flower in Spring, but the one in the house, is called Windflower?
Still a huge fan of Milfoil, though nuzzle and hug your human more, it's adorable.
Ghost galloping, with the balloony floating implied, may not sound like ‘Galumph galumph galumph’. But it FEELS like ‘Galumph galumph galumph’.
I love your Earth pony traditions. I also have some decorations I made as a kid.
I bet him feeling the magic makes her feel much better about a relationship with a human, even if she might not be happy with herself over that.
Relatedly, I’ve got a headcanon that Cadance has invented spells and techniques to let mixed race couples experience magic the way the other one does when they’re together. Also to share mark talents.
9441484
He is definitely her human.
Now I want to see a human 3D-print a Hearth's Warming doll, if only to see the looks on the locals' faces.
I'm genuinely unsure if I should read more deeply into this sentence.
In any case, a possible motivation and a reason to visit Great-Uncle Muzzlebreaker. And the forest mystery yet lingers. Still, for now, this most unusual family can enjoy the simple joys of being together.
More pls. :3
The forest demands that the human have a bunch of bees shoved over his head, then stuff him into a pony effigy made of slender sticks.
And then summon Spike to burninate him.
THEN THE FOREST DEMONS WILL BE APPEASED!!!
9441315
From Chapter 36.
9440884
I think you might not be very far off the mark there.
These days, that’s illegal in most jurisdictions, which is a shame. I think it was a good old tradition to keep the family together.
9440890
As a proper earth pony would be.
9440893
Thank you!
Well, of course.
9440917
Something like that could be another reason for her to want to stay. Or even if she can’t interact with them, she could make sure that her new family does.
9440943
If she did, it would surely be something plant-related. Which, I realize, doesn’t narrow it down all that much.
Now that would be a twist; a matchmaker who keeps working from beyond the grave.
9440964
Ooh, that’s tough. A pegasus ghost, I don’t think that they tend to really think about material things all that much. Like, clouds and storms and stuff like that, it moves on and then it’s a new day. I think that they generally don’t build great works or have a mind for leaving a legacy behind for the next generation. If I had to venture a guess, such a ghost might continue to patrol its former weather area, maybe doing its best to help with the weather.
A unicorn ghost I think would come back out of spite, to attempt to finish an unfinished work, or because some spell got totally screwed up somehow and trapped the poor unicorn in a transitional state.
9440988
Such is the cycle of the world.
9441002
That’s the best kind of tradition.
The only Christmas ornament I specifically remember was something I made was a fabric Christmas Tree. I think there are a few more Christmas ornaments my parents have that my brother or I made, but I honestly can’t remember what. They don’t put up a big tree any more, and I don’t blame them.
They do have a drawing I made as a kid that I distinctly remember making in my Grandma’s breakfast nook. It hung there until she passed away, and now it’s at my parent’s house.
9441008
They’re certainly getting closer to the mark with their theories, and let’s be honest, a bit of good luck as well.
Which, as far as I’m concerned, is a damn shame. It doesn’t have the abrupt result of unicorn magic or the flash of pegasus magic, but it’s very powerful in its own right. Possibly the strongest of the three tribes, honestly.
9441186
9441315
Yeah, as 9443341 said, she mentioned it although she hasn’t said what it was that she felt.
9441371
I suppose Timberwolves are a possibility. Best thing to do is stay out of the woods until they move on.
Saying that Windflower is corrupting the woods wouldn’t be quite correct, but it wouldn’t be entirely wrong, either.
The one in the house certainly could be a Windflower--Milfoil hasn’t said, and our protagonist wouldn’t know.
9441484
“Your human requires regular nuzzles and hugs to keep him content.”
9441654
What’s really required is the correct motions, and the implied sound follows from that.
Thank you! I’d like to think that we all have some decorations we made as kids.
If she feels the magic of nature, maybe she felt the potential in him before they got into a relationship. Maybe she knew that it was the right thing before it even happened. And if that were so, then him beginning to feel the magic as well is just a bonus.
Ooh, that’s an interesting headcanon. One part of me feels like that could be fraught with problems . . . an earth pony discovers she’s afraid of heights when she experiences her partner’s flight magic for the first time, for example. At the same time, I think that it would provide a deeper understanding for mixed race or mixed tribe couples, and who knows, they might discover something about themselves that they didn’t really know.
9441794
That would blow some ponies’ minds. Well, unless there were a unicorn spell with did the exact same thing. Still, seeing a machine do it would be pretty cool.
No, it’s just what you’re seeing on the surface. Plants shouldn’t play with fire; it’s bad for them.
9442051
As you wish.
9442212
You just wait until I publish Celandine.
9442959
It’s a valid question to ask.
Or as the ponies ran the already orange and useless leaves could have been knocked down by the vibrations speeding up the process of the leaves falling out of the trees cause I don't know about MLP ponies but the smallest pony that I have been shown through a google search weighs between 200 to 225 kg I haven't looked up the largest but at average a human weighs way less than that so yeah the vibrations in the ground could knock the leaves out of the trees
Easy there, Skywalker
Yeah, no, you already established while it was happening that it didn't match her breathing
That is an extremely silly mental image
Self-deprecation, yay!
Odd answer there. That'd mean "I might think that". Can't she at least be straight about what she thinks?
10048823
I bet earth ponies can feel a disturbance in the force.
Now you’ve got me wondering if it’s possible to hum without it matching your breathing. I’m not convinced it isn’t, at least for someone who has special skills.
It could be effective, though. I bet most of an earth pony’s inspiration comes when they’ve got hooves on dirt.
He might not be wrong, either.
Milfoil means that she might come back as a ghost to see her plants bloom, although that’s not entirely clear from context.
Then it seems to me like the line should say "She might have" (or "she might've") rather than "I might"
10052019
Heh, I wasn’t clear in the comment. The “I” is referring to Milfoil--as in, if Milfoil were to die, she (Milfoil) might come back as a ghost to see her plants blossom.
10055873
Ohhhhh. That makes a lot more sense, yes. But it's not really clear from the text. Maybe you should put the "I" in italics.
10056391
You’re probably right on that. In fact, in hindsight, I’m kind of surprised that I didn’t. Well, it is now.
like the EverFree
11285982
I don’t specifically see the Everfree as a monster, just something that ponies don’t/can’t/won’t control. It does contain monsters in it, but I don’t see that being the fault of the forest--I think the forest is neutral.