Mixing Colors

by Lyssa

Life With Braeburn

The next day I woke up to find Braeburn sitting up in bed with an open book in his lap. However, his eyes weren't on the pages, they were on me. I pretended, for both of our sakes, that I didn't notice. It was easy, since I had only opened my eyes a crack, to pretend I was just waking up. I yawned and stretched dramatically, making noises like a baby foal. After my awakening routine, I shimmied up into sitting position and lazily watched the dust motes dancing in the golden patch of sunlight that, thankfully, rested in between us and not on my pillow.

"Mornin', Sleepin' Beauty," Braeburn drawled, looking up from the book he hadn't really been reading. "You're a late riser, ain't ya?"
I nodded in agreement. When there wasn't something I really needed to do, I tended to sleep late, sometimes even to 1 or 2 PM. I was usually quite the night owl, which I paid dearly for when I needed to attend an early morning appointment. However, when I checked Braeburn's old analog clock (with some trouble- I was used to the easily-readable digital clocks in Canterlot) it was only 10:30. Then again, I fully expected a cowpony like Braeburn to be up before now, bucking apples or something.
"I didn't think you would be in bed still this late," I admitted to him.

A relaxed grin spread on his face. "Ah am usually up before now, but the biggest harvests are over so the apple trees can go a couple days without being harvested, and the apple shop doesn't open for another hour. Besides, Ah thought it would be, ya know, kinda nice for you to not wake up alone. A'course, if you'd slept in much later Ah'd had to have gone," he said. He seemed kind of nervous with his babbling- he was usually talkative, but now it was just kind of odd how extensively he was talking. I looked towards the still-open book, and realized it wasn't his back legs supporting it, if you catch my drift. I had to hide my laughter so he wouldn't get embarrassed. I decided it would be pretty funny to mess with him a little- even though I lived around pretty stuck-up, serious ponies, and I was into refined cultures, I wasn't beyond a practical joke here or there.

I squirmed out from beneath the warm covers and trotted over to the corner where I had dropped my custom cyan bag with a latch that matched my cutie mark. It was covered in marker doodles I made on it when I was bored. I made a big deal about leaning over and swishing my curly tail back and forth. I heard Braeburn quietly grunt in frustration- he may or may not know what I was doing, but I knew either way he would be frustrated and embarrassed if he stood up. Finally I grabbed my sparky red manebrush and casually tossed over my shoulder, "I'll just be in the bathroom, freshening up! Join you for breakfast afterwards!"
"Mmkay!" Braeburn called back as I quickly trotted to the bathroom and locked the door behind me.

I quietly snickered as Braeburn chided himself for being such a pervert. As I ran the brush carefully through my bed-headed mane and tail, I almost felt guilty about it. I would have admitted it to Braeburn I was just picking on him a bit, but I didn't want to make it awkward again between us, so I decided against it. No more tricks on poor, sweet Braeburn, I thought as I gave the brush one final flick through my mane to give it a nice finish. I also gave it a quick run through my coat just to make sure it didn't look too scraggly, taking special care of the feathers on my good wing and completely ignoring the broken one. Thankfully, I hadn't rolled onto it in the middle of the night. Once I looked nice and presentable, I put away my brush and sauntered into the kitchen.

The heavenly aroma of fried dandelion greens and hay bacon strips hit my nostrils before I even entered the kitchen.
"Wow, Braeburn, you are really quite the cook," I drooled, beginning to set the table as the busy stallion cooked and fried away. I, myself, was an expert at cooking Daisy-flavored Ramen Noodles. Not much else, though.
After he carefully served up breakfast, he said bashfully, "'Tain't much. Ah'm pretty good at fryin' up apple fritters, so on day Ah just went home and experimented a little. Turns out I ain't half bad at cookin.'"
"Well," I mumbled with my mouthful of delicious bacon, "I'm really grateful you're taking care of me like this. Especially since we just met."

"It's the Apple Family way to be hospitible to a pony in need," he informed me. I noticed he was a fast eater-he was almost done with his breakfast, and I had barely eaten half of mine. I don't know why I kept noticing all these little things about him. I guess I just really liked him and I wanted to always remember how nice he was to me. His voice snapped me out of my own thoughts. "After all, if it were me with a broken, er, Ah guess maybe a broken leg since Ah ain't a Pegasus, then Ah would want somepony nice t' take care of me."

I smiled appreciatively at him. I hurried to finish up my breakfast as I realized Braeburn was just scooping up the last of his breakfast.
"Well, I wanna make it up to you," I told him around my last few bites. "How about I help you with your shop today?"
Another one of those Braeburn grins spread across his muzzle. "Sounds great. Ah'm gonna straighten up n get in my vest, n we'll head into town," he said.

***

The town was a bit nicer than my original impression, I thought, as we trotted together towards Braeburn's apple stand. Sure, there was dust everywhere and not many clouds to block the sun, but I didn't mind. As I thought of clouds, my mind drifted off to flight and then to my broken wing. I looked sadly back at it briefly. It stuck straight up, as it had to be in the splint, and I realized it was extremely itchy. I decided to take my mind off it by looking at the little shoppes in town. Lemons, asparagus, a real live saloon... It was very cute and rustic, actually. We arrived at Braeburn's stand and he dug the key out of a pocket in his vest- there was a small back room in which to have breaks and shade and take inventory. My art-influenced mind wandered to the paper, pencils, colored pencils and markers, probably for some poster idea that never left the theoretical drawing board.

It was a small town, so customers were few and far between. I was also no expert on apples, so I fumbled around when Braeburn asked for a certain kind. A few hours passed and I got incredibly bored. Suddenly, an idea struck. "Hey! You!" I called to a passing yellow pony with 3 horseshoes as his cutie mark. "What are you doing?" Braeburn hissed at me. "Trust me," I whispered back.

"Me?" Asked the surprised stallion. I nodded. He trotted over, looking confused but curious.
"Can you just sit right there, really still, for maybe 10 minutes?" I asked.
He was more confused than ever. "Uhh, okay."
I galloped back to the back room and grabbed a piece of paper and a pencil and began to draw him from the neck up. Now, I was no caricature artist. There was no way I was drawing him in any way less then 100% realistically. I took care in care in coloring it in, too, and when I was finished, I showed it to him.

"Wow!" He exclaimed. "That's amazing! Can I keep it?"
I replied in a carefully calculated response. "Well, I was going to keep it to show the other customers," I baited, "but I suppose I could let you have it for 3 bits."
I got a nibble. "Well, it is an exquisite drawing. Fine, take the bits." He relented, spilling three shiny bits on the table and snatching up the drawing, carefully stowing it in his bag. "Have a nice day!" I called as he cantered away.

Braeburn stared at me slack jawed. "That was amazin'!" He exclaimed. "That was the best drawing Ah've ever-" he was cut off by another interested Apploosan, a pretty green mare with a yellow mane. After her, there were two more ponies. Soon enough a line formed, waiting for me to draw a beautiful portrait of them. This benefited Braeburn too- many ponies grew thirsty in the hot sun, and Braeburn had a few barrels of nice, cold apple cider.

Before I knew it, the pencils were drawn down to nubs (thankfully there was a sharpener, or I'd have gone out of business much faster) and the line was gone. There was a pile of bits to my left and we were all out of paper. I grinned and hoof-bumped Braeburn. What a great money-making scheme! "You can have all the bits," I said. "You know, as payment for the hospitality."
He shook his head, almost violently. "No ma'am! " he exclaimed. "You've paid your dues just by bein' here! Lookit all these bits you got me from that apple cider!" He smiled sweetly and looked me dead in the eyes. "Ms. Splatter Paint, you are one special filly."

I blushed at such a compliment. I couldn't believe Braeburn! He was so nice and handsome and sweet! Then I remembered something. "Shoot!" I said. " I still need to make some more art for Manehattan. Is there a craft store around here?"
"Easel's got one down the road aways," Braeburn replied. "Ah could show you it if you'd like."
"Sounds great," I said, glad I'd brought my saddle bag. "We should hurry. She'll be closing soon, right?"
"Oh, yeah!" He exclaimed. "Quick, let's go!"
After he locked up, we ran, giggling like foals, for the craft shoppe.

We galloped in with the ding of a bell to a bored looking earth pony with an orange coat and greenish yellow mane.
"Howdy Braeburn," she said, perking up a bit. "Got yourself a fillyfriend?"
We both blushed deeply and looked towards the ground. "Naw, Easel," he said bashfully, "Ah'm just takin' care of her til the train comes. Her wing's hurt real bad and she needs a place to stay.

The storekeeper shrugged, becoming bored as the piece of gossip slipped from her hooves. "Well, it's almost closin' time, so hurry up now." Her tone wasn't mean, just in the tone of an annoyed mother with two unruly foals.
I galloped through the isles with a basket, picking up eight easels (I only needed five, but three extra paintings never hurt anypony) the colors of the rainbow in paint, plus black and white, and a few other art essentials and extra paper for the next day at the stand. The total was a fraction of what I had to pay at any Canterlot store, and the materials were just as good. Plus, the leftover bits meant I did have shopping money left over. Score!

Back at Braeburn's place, the first thing I did was sit down, set up the travel easel I'd bought (I didn't even know ponies sold these!) and began to replicate the abstract I'd painted on the napkin. Thankfully, both the napkin and the canvas had a subtle grid, it was easy to do. I showed Braeburn proudly afterwards.

"Wow, it sure looks nice on a real canvas," he told me.
"It's not much," I replied, "but thanks for the inspiration."
He smiled. "Come on, lets have some cabbage and clover sandwiches."

Author's Note:

I'm going to be out of town for a few days. If I can get wifi there, I'll try to update; if not, it'll be a few days to chapter four. Thanks to my dedicated readers! I wub you /)^3^(\

~~disregard the above. I have wifi there now so if I'm in a writey mood I'll update. Still wub you guys though :3 ~~

Comments

[Machiniman20]

I feel like the descriptiveness of this chapter has increased drastically from the previous two, for some reason. Whether it has or not, I feel like it's really good! Definitely going to continue reading this one, hope you get more favorites.

[R0CCA]

Hmm. Not bad. Gonna have to keep reading this one.