Hurricane of Pink and Purple

Chapter I

As much as he disliked parties consisting of more than three ponies, Big Macintosh found himself strangely comfortable, sitting peacefully in the corner of Books and Branches. Some part of him was still puzzled - what notion would push Twilight Sparkle to actually, willingly, host a Pinkie Party over at her precious library?

That's right. Pinkie.

With a sigh, he glanced over to the middle of the room where a considerable number of revellers had gathered in dance. He could see Cheerilee peeking from the crowd as she jumped and twirled around. He knew well enough that little Cheery was a party pony. They've been friends since forever after all.

Nevertheless, the tune wasn't too loud for his tastes, and the already opened "Astronomer's Almanac to All Things Astronomy" looked all but too inviting. He's been reading the book with interest, studying mouth-drawn graphs of the sky. When he had a little free time back at the farm, especially near dusk-time, he would perch himself underneath an apple tree and just gaze at the night sky. Mac found it charmingly relaxing.

Relaxation was something he desired more than anything now. The entire day had been more than confusing for the poor stallion. First, he was set up on an rather awkward... "date" with his old friend he hadn't really talked with for a long time. Just like that, all of a sudden. And then Sweetie Belle brought them those strange drinks. What followed was darkness, as if something hit him harder on the head than in reality it should.

Just to add insult to (presumed) injury, he woke up in a pit on a feathered mattress.

With Cheerilee.

In a wedding veil.

Much of the awkwardness had been since put aside, though something in him still disagreed with giving the Cutie Mark Crusaders his chores. With that trio, something was always bound to go wrong, and his entire day so far had been a testament to that theory.

His shame was supposed to be put to rest at that very moment, as he walked his friend to her house like any gentlecolt should. Unfortunately, it seemed fate had other plans for him as the pair was ambushed out of the blue by none other than the pink, puffy-maned menace. How she knew about the whole ordeal he dared not to think, but in the end, they both got invited to what Pinkie had called "Glad-You're-Back-To-Yourselves-And-Didn't-Do-Anything-Silly" Party.

And you don't reject Pinkie's party invitations.

Luna had already raised the moon hours ago, and from the quick glance he took outside the window, midnight was approaching. Normally, he'd have spent the customary time at the party, and then he would be able to excuse himself back to the Acres without upsetting anypony in particular. Tomorrow was going to be busy day, and even a stallion like him required his rest.

"Hi there Mackie-Wacky-Smacky!!"

And with these simple words, all of his plans shattered, were buried and exploded. Twice.

The music suddenly changed to something much too lively for Big Mac, and time felt slowed down to a crawl. Pinkie Pie, the bane of his social existence, had finally found him. Still, when he thought about it, it had taken her a remarkably long time just to peer over at his corner.

"Oooh, you promised you won't do what you're doing now you!" she looked at him with eyes full of tears. Alligator tears, no doubt.

"This party is JUST for you, Mackie! How can you do such a thing to me? You promised to have fun, just like everypony else, you big lug you! C'mon! Get up! We're getting you to dance!" her attitude shifted between feigned depression and excitement like a river during the scheduled downpour. Mac's mind grasped for a good excuse, his eyes slightly shifting left and right trying to hook an idea.

"Eeyup," he drawled. Nope, nothing. If anything, mentioning Cheerilee would just make Pinkie demand him to dance specifically with her and probably embarrass them both. He heaved himself up slowly, saying his inner farewells to the Almanac. And he only just reached the interesting part about the Canis Major constellation.

"Oh, look at you, you biggie-wiggly you. You can't dance like that, you're all too stiff! Silly, let me find something just for that. Stay here, auntie Pinkie will be back with just the thing for you!"

He blinked, and she was gone. Big Mac was unsure of what would happen specifically, but doom was certainly part of the package.

He dropped himself down quickly and turned the page back to the one he found the book open on earlier that day. Twilight was probably studying something for herself, and it would be plain rude to just shift the page like that.

"I'mh bhaaaaaackh! Mhisshed mhe?!" the pink menace bounced up and down towards Mac, a sense of dread overwhelming the rather calm stallion. She was holding something in her mouth. A small glass vial, half-filled with a strange, purple-blue bubbling liquid. It glowed faintly, too. He wasn't an expert on drinks and liquids aside from apple cider, but he was sure that was not something one should ingest.

She dropped the thing on the ground and held it with her front hooves firmly as she used her mouth to uncork the concoction. A strong aroma of mushrooms and herbs assaulted his nostrils. He had to shake his head and breathe out rather harshly at first. Strangely enough, Pinkie was unfazed by the odour. She took a step... bounce back and nodded at the vial.

"Come on Mackie, drink up!"

He slowly heaved his massive frame closer, lowering his head down for better inspection. All in all, looking at the thing from this perspective, it did look similar to the punch on the other table. But it's still glowing, and the smell is wrong. He probably shouldn't. His mind was telling him not to. His body was repulsed by it. All the signs in the heavens and on the earth were telling him not to do it.

"What are you waiting for? You prooomiiissseeed."

All but one, that is.

Reluctantly, he put his mouth around the top of the bottle and pulled himself up, drinking the liquid, hopefully, in one go.

His taste buds were instantly assaulted by the most abhorrent taste he'd ever felt on his tongue. It was almost as bad as that one time when Applejack swapped his cider with one made from rotten apples a couple of years ago. Still, Pinkie pleaded, and he would oblige.

Breaking his usual stoic, uncaring expression, Mac visibly cringed for a second. He gulped another lump of the strange substance down his throat. He noticed Pinkie looking expectantly out of the corner of his eyes. Oh how easy he was to play. She didn't even have to try, did she?

Finally, the torture ended as the last drops of the repulsive drink slid down his throat. He spat out the vial, letting the glass rebound against the wooden surface just on the verge of shattering itself. His entire body shivered as Mac swayed his head left and right.

"...I knew I should've added some cinnamon. Welp, but you're ready now! Go out there and show those ponies some real applebucking moves!" she finished, looking at Macintosh with an expectant grin.

The music changed again, this time to a more lively tune. He strolled over to the edge of the "dance floor", as much as it could be called that, and reluctantly started to shake his body left and right, sometimes rising and lowering a hoof in a perfect display of awful rhythm.

In moments like these he thanked Celestia for being born with a deep red coat. It was invaluable in helping him hide his blush. A few glances from the main crowd did not help the situation at all. He was beginning to burn up inside from all the shame.

Warily, he turned his head around, frantically searching for the pink ball of destruction.

She was nowhere to be seen. Good. He lowered his hoof and breathed slowly in relie—

"Nu-uh-uh!" came a shriek, right from underneath his belly. Pinkie was lying on her back right below him. She shook her head in disappointment.

"You promised."

"Ee... yup."

She grinned as she rolled over like a ball, disappearing between the dancing ponies closer to the centre of the party.

The rest of the night had been most agonizing. He continued to dance for a little while, making sure Pinkie was just out of sight when he stopped. It seems the pink mare found herself another pony to stalk. Finally taking time to slow down, he felt the mixture working its way through his digestive tract. He felt slightly nauseous, shivering from time to time.

He sat down near the door, taking deep breaths. The atmosphere was becoming too much for him, too many ponies and too little space. He still didn't know what exactly Pinkie gave him, but the effect was certainly the polar opposite of what she could possibly want to achieve.

Frustrated, he peered out of the window. The moon was at its apex. Midnight had come.

Finally.

With almost impossible grace he slipped through the half-open door, letting the cold night air blow through his mane. He breathed in deeply, and sighed in relief. He could still hear the beat from inside the library. It would probably take Twilight a good half of the day to clean up the mess.

Then again, he had his own share of bothersome work. It's wasn't like he didn't enjoy ploughing the fields or bucking trees of their harvest. He'd been doing it for majority of his life. It had become a calm, welcome routine. Actions that made the gears in his mind turn when he had nothing to think about. Blissful ignorance, one might say.

As he walked, he mused about his current situation. All in all, he hated it. Stray thoughts like that were nothing but trouble. This is exactly why he was thankful for the tremendous amount of work each day. At least it was honest, down-to-earth labour. He knew himself all too well, and daydreaming was something he fought with on a daily basis.

Yet, am I really happy wit—no, no, NO. The Acres were just over the hill. He would arrive home, walk upstairs and drop himself dead on his comfortable bed.

Yes, that would do. His eyes were already getting heavy. Just a little bit more.

And tomorrow was going to be a very busy day indeed.

Aileron Leap

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Chapter II

The force of Big Macintosh's hooves almost splintered the ground as he galloped through the forest. At first, he tried his best avoiding the branches and the wild roots, but as the presence of dread chasing him grew closer, he figured he was only wasting his strength.

He busted forcefully through another overgrowth, finding himself over a cliff on the edge of the dark grove. It looked as if some sort of a great blade cleaved the ground, splitting it perfectly in two. Before him was only darkness. A perfect, pitch-black abyss. It stretched downwards endlessly.

He felt the howl of wind blowing against the cold rock. That, and another sound he'd rather not. It resembled a gnawing mouth, thick saliva of a hungering beast audibly dripping down. He could easily turn around and see exactly what was chasing him, but his fear had overwhelmed him.

With a crack of a nearby tree, he knew that the creature was much too close. He could feel its warm breath on his back. Any moment now his end would come.

He jumped, and began falling. There was no end to the steep block of rock he had jumped off, as he accelerated faster and faster. Macintosh started flailing his hooves around. Deep, primal fear overtook him. He screame—

THUD

Book after book fell on his tired, restless back as his cabinet almost emptied itself on him. His head sprung from under the impressive pile of literature as Mac glanced around his room, one eye half-closed from the dreamy daze.

It was very much plain. A large, simple bed sat directly underneath the window. It was easily big enough to contain two ponies, perhaps more would they willing to slightly squeeze together. Nothing less for a stallion as large as himself. The southern wall had been essentially replaced by chiselled, wooden cabinets filled to brim with various books on a plethora of different subjects. He never had time to finish many of them, shame.

The opposite side of the room was organised around a single dresser. A portrait of his family stood on top of it, nestled in a lovely frame recently hoof-fixed by Applebloom herself. The entire piece of furniture was cut with apparent love, apples and flowery motived gliding along it's green-red side. A small detail, easily overlooked by strangers, held one more secret in Mac's room. Hiding behind a slightly unhinged plank on the wall was his, or rather, her little toy. He never got around to returning that thing. As much as he was taught to respect the property of others, something inside that ragged figure forbid him from letting it go. He was still unnerved each time he passed a taught on the matter.

Mac noticed the earliest beam of dawn striking through the darkness inside his room. He should be up in the kitchen preparing food for himself and Applejack in roughly fifteen minutes.

"Haystacks," the large red stallion, alone, audibly berated himself.

Better get down to cleaning this mess.

__________________________________________________________

"Howdy brother," was the first thing he heard from the kitchen. As much as he enjoyed his sister's voice, today he found her volume simply unbearable. Oh, how one night can change a pony.

"How was th' night?" she turned around, beaming a lively smile. She was dressed in his favourite apron, her hat hanged on the chair near the doorway he just stepped through.

Macintosh simply shrugged his brow, gently shaking his head as he approached the stove. He didn't want to narrate his silly nightmare nor really go into detail about his aching back. He felt bad, and that was all that she would need to know.

His reaction was quickly corrected by a firm rear hoof to his flank. This vexed him, making the stallion glare at Applejack far harsher than he ever did before.

"...'s was a bad night," she stepped slightly to the side, her goofy smile turning into a worried glance.

" 's was, yeah. Mah back hurts, Ah woke up every hour or so and Ah crashed mah bookcase," he spoke. Usually, Mac found words taking too much time or just not enough to convey the message. At least that's what he told himself all the time. The situation was largely different in the Apple house. He still was the quietest pony by a long shot, but compared to his interactions with citizens of Ponyville, he was almost a chatterbox.

"That's why ye've been late for breakfast, huh?"

"Eeyup. Now, Applejack, where did ye put all the—"

"In the stove, already roasting."

"And—"

"Over there, in 'bout five minutes."

"Ah've been that late?"

"...eee-yup!" she replied, mocking his usual catchphrase.

"Haystacks."

Macintosh was definitely angry this morning. Mostly at himself, no less. He should have refused that drink yesterday. Celestia knows what was in that concoction. He was also late to his usual chores. He was always the one to cook breakfast. Every day.

Of course Applejack knew how to cook just as well, maybe even better, but his early-day meals were customary.

He sat himself on the chair, pulling one back for his sister as soon as she would be done garnishing the dishes. Granny Smith and Applebloom were still deep asleep. They wouldn't wake up for the next two hours or so. Even then, the old mare would simply relocate to her rocking chair while his little sis would dash to school, late as always.

The sun was much higher now, it's warm rays pleasing to the stallion's skin. He was resilient, but today he swore he could simply doze off right here and now. While the warmth of his bed had been left behind in due haste, Macintosh found comfort in the wooden chair underneath his flank. He spread his front legs on the table, placing his muzzle between them.

Just a minute...

A plate full of apple pancakes landed straight before his nose, their smell intoxicating. Applejack quickly sat herself with her own meal.

"Sho, what ah've whe ghot tho-dho thodhay aht th' farm, humph?" she went straight to the topic at hand.

"Applejack! Yer eatin'," Mac was quick to discipline his sister. He wasn't personally fond of all the royal fru-fru business, but even a farmer like himself should know his manners. And she was one of the few ponies to defy even the most basic etiquette, much to his annoyance. Sometimes, he wondered if she was just as rambunctious away from home.

His sister shot him a most venomous glance, finishing the bite in silence.

"Ah... so, what have we got to-do today at th' farm?" her question repeated now with an empty mouth.

"Well, ye've gotta buck half of the Red Delicious field, 's ready for harvest about now. Ah'll have to check the barn for ol' worn tools and haul them to the smithy. Then we'll have to plough and fertilize th' souther field. Ye and me both," he spoke slowly, with a most content look on his face between each mouthful of pancake.

"And what about this month's paperwork. Ye were supposed'ta finish it yesterday, Mac."

"Applebuckin' hay—"

"Big Macintosh! Watch yer tongue!" it was Applejack's turn to discipline her brother. She had all the right to, rarely did he throw himself off the deep end like that. The horrible start of the day had finally begun taking its toll on the red stallion.

"Ah'm sorry sis."

They spent the rest of their breakfast in questionable silence.

__________________________________________________________

The weight of his yoke was something reassuring. When he was smaller, he had felt it burden his back each day for a good year or so, perhaps more. Then, as he grew and worked on the farm, he became accustomed to that load. Strangely enough, as he felt it less and less he began questioning himself more and more. His body, becoming bigger with each passing night, soon started provoking stares from the few ponies that visited the farm. At first those strangers praised his parents for rising a "healthy young stallion". Later on, kind remarks turned into glances of worry. He was too young to understand back then, though he knew right away that he was not truly welcome outside his home. He started asking himself - just what was he becoming, and just how strong was he?

Half of that answer was given to him back at the day when he almost broke Applejack's spine when they were wrestling in the mud after a childish dispute. It was the last time the two would ever go at each other to such degree.

The other half arrived today, wrapped in a neat envelope. Derpy was always stalwart in her daily mail route, and never had she missed a single message. He opened the mailbox on his way to the barn and shifted his mouth in search of news. The semaphore indicated something of importance. Finally, having to resort to using his tongue, he felt the texture of paper. With a quick clinch, he pulled the letter out.

To Macintosh Apple

The only mail addressed specifically to him was either tax correction (or praise for him correcting them) or another daily dose of advertisements for Playpony magazine. Little shame of his back in the early days when cousin Braeburn used to visit much more often. For some reason, they never stopped bothering him with subscription offers, so Mac was sure to arrive and gather the mail as the only pony on the Acres. It was a thing of honour.

And this mail was neither.

He opened it reluctantly, smelling another misfortune heading his way at supersonic speeds.

Dear Macintosh Apple

I have heard about your most unfortunate incident with Miss Cheerilee and wish you

the very best. Hopefully, you will return to your health as soon as possible.

It is in my, no, Ponyville's interest to see our number one apple supplier to be strong

on his hooves at all times. I am sure Mayor Mare will be more than willing to supply

the Acres with any financial donations required to get the business up to speed.

Even from a one-day's mishap.

However, I am writing to you on a different occasion.

Big Mac's ears instantly dropped down from this point onwards.

No matter how drunk, out-of-your mind or poisoned you were back in the day, the problem

of my DWELLING SUDDENLY APPEARING ON THE OTHER END OF PONYVILLE

STILL STANDS. I HAVE NO IDEA HOW YOU DID THAT, BUT I HAVE WITNESSES

CLAIM TO MY SIGHTINGS, AND DEMAND YOU IMMEDIATELY TAKE THE ACTION

IN YOUR HOOVES. BY CELESTIA, IF MY HOUSE DOES NOT APPEAR WHERE IT STOOD

BY THE END OF NEXT WEEK, I WILL HAVE YOUR HEAD IN THE CANTERLOT COURT.

I am eagerly looking forward to your reply.

~ Berry Punch

All the stallion could do is gulp in silence. He wasn't a slow thinker. On the contrary, his most common problem was that he thought too fast and too efficiently. And too much. Yet, this letter made the gears in his brain simply stop.

"Ah... did WHAT?!" a forceful bellow escaped his lungs as the pieces fell to their correct places.

He knew he was strong. Strong enough to plough through the fields all day without any strain at all. Unless the plough was broken. In which case he would break it down into scrap metal completely.

But... he apparently had moved a building. A real, two-story Ponyville building. He vaguely remembered how a normal house looked back in town. And he had managed to simply force it out of its foundations. With but a pull.

What.

It took him almost a minute to regain inner composure, as he stood there with his mouth half-open, simply gazing into empty space.

Mac looked down on his hooves, rising one and turning it slightly. In a long time, he was once again horrified of himself.

"Haystacks."

__________________________________________________________

Apple bucking was something that came to Macintosh naturally. Maybe it was his large build or ages of experience, or maybe even his special talent. He hadn't really paid it any mind whatsoever. It was another chore, and it had to be done. There really was not much philosophy to it.

He was, without a doubt, better at it than Applejack. Each tree took only a little bit of time to clear out. First, Mac would measure it's resistance. He would then gently tap it with his hind hoof and enjoy the bountiful harvest. Lugging back the baskets was another thing, however.

The sun finally dawned over the horizon, displaying it's magnificence in all its glory. He was glad it did, as it became too warm to enjoy a little sleep. Maybe in the shade, but he had no time to stop and try his theory. Applebloom raced out of the house, half-eaten apple fritter bouncing up and down from her mouth as she dashed over to Ponyville. She only managed to mumble something vaguely resembling their names as she almost tripped herself waving over to her siblings.

Granny Smith peeked from the house exactly once, calling Applejack and Macintosh over for some refreshments in the middle of their field work. It wasn't anything special, just normal water and a hoof-polished apple. Granny wasn't too busy today, she had time to spare for now. She did promise to help Caramel and his relatives work on a new recipe involving apples in the evening, and knowing just how work goes in that household, she probably wouldn't been seen at the Acres for another day or two.

Mac, in his breaks between one tree and another, would gaze at the sky and either count the clouds or peer at the sun's position, estimating the hour. It kept his mind busy. That, and chewing on his hay stalk.

Life is wonderful, isn't it?

Then again, ever since the Flim-Flam Fiasco, as he liked to call it, he wondered to himself. Maybe they were really right. To a reasonable degree, of course. The Acres were making good business as usual, but the fact they were rather stagnant was quite apparent.

Maybe it is time to really expand? Hire some ponies, show them the ropes. Possibly request to expand the farm over Everfree a little bit more?

Not that he was unsatisfied with their earnings, but an extra bit surely wouldn't hurt. Even more so during the winter season.

By Celestia, he was lapsing into those thoughts again. Back to bucking. If he hurried the last dozen trees he would be able to take a slightly longer break than usual while Applejack catches up on her quota.

"Ahm home!" came a familiar shriek. The little filly came early, Mac thought to himself as he gave the last tree in his share a good hit. One of the apples found its unfortunate way on his head, prompting the farmpony to glare at the flora.

Oh, so the sun had moved that much already. Applebloom wasn't early at all, it was the usual hour for her to come back from school and wreck havoc over at home.

Applejack was still in the middle of her field, and he already lugged the last batch of apples on the cart. And with his youngest sister ransacking the farm, all of his hopes for some rest quickly died down. He still dreaded the idea of the little filly asking him to help her with her mathematics homework. Curses, he was so easy to play. Just a single glance from her and he was stuck solving all of her problems right off the bat. No wonder her grades were slowly hitting the new deep.

He sighed. Not much to do then. With a quick thought Mac decided to drop down in the shade and wait for his sister to finish her section. He slowly heaved himself to his usual resting spot, situated right underneath a rather impressive tree. From this angle, he would have a good vantage point for both Applejack's chores and Applebloom's machinations.

Speaking of the devil, a bright-red tail quickly hid itself inside the barn.

What was she looking for, that filly? He decided it was better to investigate, and preferably with due haste. Applejack shared his look of concern as they noticed each other across the field. She simply nodded and beckoned her head to the door. He replied with a single tap of his hoof before heading around the barn.

"Howdy Brother," Applebloom greeted him as she walked out of the barn nonchalantly. She was carrying a hammer sticking out of one of her saddlebags, and he could hear the clattering of nails in the other.

For once she didn't break anything.

Mac slightly berated himself for anticipating the worst so easily. She was a troublemaker, no doubt, but she was also an Apple. Credit of doubt was the least he could give her. Relieved, he turned around and nodded to Applejack, who shared a sigh.

In fact, she made considerable progress while he was busy checking up on Appleblom. At this rate she would be a minute or two before the two could begin fertilizing the last field. He should check out his plough and perhaps fasten it already. The sooner he got to it the better, there was still much to do today.

With the next step of his hoof, he heard something metallic tapping against a surface. And then something snapped, landing against the barn wall with an audible smack. Mac turned around and noticed a cart, filled to brim with hammers, nails, sickles and other tools rolling down the hill out of the barn.

Haystacks! They were supposed to organise them and put them in place. Not pile them up in one place and call it a day. Curses, curses, curses!

Stupidly enough, Mac was too busy berating himself, again, to notice that the cart was headed straight for little Applebloom. The filly was apparently absorbed in studying how the nails were embedded in the cross-sections of the fence below.

Without thinking much more, he hit the ground and galloped straight after the cart, hoping to possibly peg it out of the way. Pieces of dirt began flying as his strong hooves beat against the ground.

"Applebloom! Appleblom, watch out!', shrieks of terrified Applejack reached his ears as he dashed with all his strength.

No use.

Even though he was running downhill, the cart was loaded enough to make it go just a little faster than Macintosh. The two were practically moving at the same speeds, and the object had a good few meters advantage over the red stallion. He didn't really waste time and energy shouting warnings. Instead, he focused solely on running. Plans and calculations were going through his head at an incredible rate. Different alternatives, possible routes for the situation to solve itself. Probability calculus in regards to the tools falling out and slowing the cart, even by the tiniest silver.

It all came out in negatives.

His little sister only just now realised her situation, turning around with a sour expression on her face.

"Geeze Applejack. Can't Ah even do some... ah...aaEEEH!" the filly screamed seeing the lump of wood and metal heading her way at break-neck speeds. She could possibly jump to the side, yet it was evident she was petrified with fear. Even blinking would be a wonder at her current state.

He really pumped everything into his hooves. He really did. Never had he ran as fast as now. Adrenaline was just making it worse by stretching time inside his mind. All he could think of what how he won't make it. Whatever plan he thought of ended in failure.

No, it's useless. But can't give up.

Giving up right now would be the most horrible thing to do. Even if logic said it's all useless, he would still do his best to act.

No. Macintosh, just shut up. Run, don't think.

Run.

Mac closed his eyes, trashing his head to the side lightly. He stopped thinking, a rare occurrence. If there was anything left to do, it was to pray. Pray for a miracle. Celestia help them.

He jumped, foolishly thinking it would help at all.

__________________________________________________________

The overloaded cart crashed spectacularly against the white wooden fence, sending splinters and broken planks flying into the air. In fact, the wagon itself managed to achieve some flight time as it descended into the small ravine at most impressive speeds. Another loud sound signified just how much valuable equipment had been sent to the other side.

Still shaking and throbbing, Macintosh opened his eyes. Everything was blurry from having shut them so tight. That, and tears. Something was tugging against his head. Quickly, he noticed strands of bright-red waggling before his eyes. He opened his mouth as the little filly dropped down on the ground, just as shocked as he.

Finally, Mac saw that he managed to dig himself quite deep into the ground with his hooves. He had slid across the field, apparently. He didn't really have time to look around what happened as another strike hit his chest.

"Thank ya Big Mac. Thank ya, ye're the bestest brother ever!!" Applebloom was basically crying her not-so-little eyes out into his coat. Something in him ticked as a warm flush rushed over his entire body. Tears, no longer from exhaustion, began forming in the corner of his eyes.

"There there, sugarcube," he managed to mutter as he gently pat the little pony on her head, letting her drop down and simply cuddle against his other leg. He hadn't seen Applebloom so... emotional since ages. The fact his little sister is safe made him more than happy. He could literally drop everything right now just to stay with her for a little longer. Macintosh beamed a large yet somehow subdued smile and once again closed his eyes in a nod, letting a single tear shed down across his cheek.

He felt the pressure on his leg disappear. Instinctively, he gave the filly another pat.

"Alright sugarcube, let's tell sis ye're all fine," He was rapidly approaching his daily record of words per minute.

"Uhm... am...hh m...," the filly stammered, unable to form a coherent response. Mac raised an eyebrow in response to the peculiar show.

"What is it, sugarcube?" he asked inquisitively, gently uprooting himself from the four mounds he made. No response came from Applebloom, her jaw firmly planted into the rich Acre soil. This confused the stallion to no end. Maybe she got another strange idea coming through her head? Who knows. He turned around, waving his hoof to Applejack, trying to signal that all is fine.

He swore that that expression unnerved him more than anything. The older sister, mimicking little Applebloom, also unhinged her mouth to dangerous levels. She stood there, dumbstruck, with a cart full of apples still fastened to her back.

Mac shrugged, bending his head slightly to gently tip a stray feather on his wing with his muzzle. He hadn't done anything special. She would've done the same thing were she in his place. Of course, this means their daily chores would be altered significantly, putting away the field fertilization for tomorrow as ne—

My what?

The stallion's eyes opened themselves fully in absolute bewilderment. He saw something that wasn't there before. Of that he was quite sure. There, touching his very face, was a large and imposing mass of red feathers, as deep and vibrant as his coat. Wings. Not those magical gossamer and morning dew enchanted wings. Not a mechanical, steam-powered contraptions he read books about.

Real. Pegasus. Wings.

Surely he was dreaming. Or maybe he had hit his head against the ground when swooping up Applebloo—

Swooping.

The sudden acceleration, the trails in the ground from his hooves. Suddenly, it all made sense. Or rather, it tried making little less confusion.

He tried wrapping his head around this, some notion of him still calling out the sheer ridiculousness of the whole situation. He had to silence it somehow. And he knew just the way.

Instinctively, he flapped his wings.

His entire body quickly got covered with ice-cold sweat. He felt his muscles, those he never used before, move to facilitate motion. He could feel the new appendages move through the air. He never experienced something like the before.

Before he knew it, the stallion's face turned to resemble those of his sisters. The cold in his body intensified, he felt blood rushing out of his brain.

"Hhaysth..." Macintosh managed to mumble before the behemoth of a pony fell to the ground with an audible smack.

Everything went dark.

Apple-scented Raindrops

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Chapter III

Blobs of colours slowly crept up Macintosh's vision. Finally, his ears began registering the flickering sound of fire, wood burning up and falling upon itself in a warm pyre. He felt his legs resting comfortably against firm, slightly worn cloth. Ever so slowly, the big stallion blinked his eyes, trying to take in more of his surroundings.

A plain, rolling carpet stretched before him. It was rather simple but knit with love. Brown colour dominated the centre as an array of apples formed circles on its out edges. He recognized it, walking over the tapestry day after day.

Finally it dawned upon him. He was resting on the couch in the living room of Apple household, the lit fireplace keeping his side warm. He felt peculiarly reinvigorated.

What a strange dream.

He had probably keeled over on the couch right after that party. He could vaguely remember struggling to keep his eyes open on the way home. It all slowly made sense. Granny Smith had most probably tended to him after his sudden arrival. Judging by the lack of any other noise, everypony in the house was still sound asleep.

Maybe if he hurried, he would make it before Applejack wakes up. His apron was basically calling his name at this point.

He had to keep quiet. Gently rising his hoof, Mac gazed through the window to judge the time of day. His eyebrow rose inquisitively. Stars? Just how long had he slept? More importantly, though - what was the hour and day?

Curiously, he felt refreshed and full of vim. Still slightly tipsy though. It had to be the middle of the night, still fresh from Pinkie's party. Mac guessed the best course of action would be to simply rest down at his room. Little miss Smarty Pants was probably anxious for him at any rate.

Something didn't quite tick as he moved his legs off the couch.

They felt heavy. It was a different type of exhaustion - not from being worn after a long day. It reminded him more of the Running of the Leaves, but it's been years since he had participated. Applejack had steadily competed with him back in the day. They were equal in more ways then one. Stamina, speed, agility. Unfortunately, it didn't last long. As time went by, Macintosh noticed he was becoming increasingly bigger. He became more resilient, he tired less easily. His natural dexterity suffered greatly, and soon Applejack was running circles around him.

Still, his biggest worry had always been his strength. It came slowly at first, and steadily grew with each moon over the Acres. Accidents happened, but were mostly menial or inconvenient. Bent steel, broken plough, door torn from the hinges. It worried him, but he would always be confident in his self-control.

Until I wrestled Jacks in the mud.

Reality ensued quickly. His legs, still worn, just didn't agree with the rest of his body. The large red mountain was quickly thrown off-balance. Whoever was asleep in the household wouldn't get much more of it, that's for sure.

Brace for impact.

To his surprise, there was no sound. In fact, he didn't even crash against the floor. Skipping over on his two legs he somehow maintained his balance. Awkwardly he began slowing down, finally setting down with a heavy sigh of relief. There were always bright sides. This time, he had managed to avoid waking up the entire house, Luna knows what hour would it be.

Macintosh shook his head. He ought to really return to his bed proper. His sore hooves were a testament that he had done something of great burden the day before. Details came together. Something about the barn, the Cutie Mark Crusaders failing at their job. A leap. He must have hit his head harder than he could remember. He shrugged, and his head darted to his side immediately.

Hiding in the corner of his eye was a wing. As far as Mac could remember, it was his wing.

And he did not dream that day at all.

It came like a wave, the sensation of every muscle tensing flushed over him quicker than he could even comprehend. Ice-cold sweat once again started forming all over his large body. His breath became deep, chest pumping up and down furiously.

He swore he was freaked enough to run into a wall. Then again, a rock was a better choice, at least that would put him out for longer.

Macintosh once again focused on his back, on his new appendages. Consciously, he flapped them once and twice. He actually managed to tap his right wing against the edge of the couch, reminding himself that he is in fact not in high fever and this is anything but a hallucination.

How did this happen, he had no idea whatsoever. His mind began racing, trying to piece together scraps of the overarching story. Still, as his breath became more and more erratic, he started having trouble focusing. A sense of some sort of primal, irrational fear overtook him.

"Mwh.. wham... ah.. hwmhg.." he began to stammer. It was by all means a first. Were Macintosh to think, he would always do so in absolute silence. He could solve vastly complex riddles or ponder philosophical questions with ease and nopony would even see his snout change his expression. Were the need be, he would reply with a simple yes or no, in his usual and rustic style. Sometimes, very rarely, he allowed himself to speak more. Still, the stallion was laconic and to the point.

And now he was standing in the middle of the room, his hooves nervously clopping against the (thankfully) muffled carpet. His wings flapped up and down just fanning the flames whereas his mouth yelped like he was a little colt all over again.

His erratic behaviour changed for the worse quite rapidly as the large stallion began trotting around the outer edge of Granny's tapestry. The feathered limbs still moved up and down rhythmically. He managed to knock down a cup of water from the edge of a small table right next to the couch. The liquid spilt itself all over the wooden floor. Still, Mac was too busy to even notice.

In all of this fervour Macintosh became completely oblivious to the presence of another pony. A mare had descended down the stairs as he began his fit. By now, Applejack was standing right outside the reach of his feathers, eyeing his brother with both worry and subdued bewilderment.

"Ah... Mac?", she muttered at first before finally voicing his name.

The red blob of nerves stopped and piqued his ears up instantly. His wings were quickly to follow that motion.

"Jacks'? Jacks what's happenin' t'me!?", he yelped. She hadn't seen him in such a state for years now.

"Ah... Ah don't know brother. Uhh, settle down now, lad. Yer trashin' the livin' room," Her attempts at calming her elder brother weren't working quite as she had intended.

Macintosh flapped his wings again, trying to prove a point. "Ponies don' grow wings overnight! Ah haven't see ye grow a horn Jacks! Ahh! What's happenin'?!" the stallion almost reared.

With a quick nod to herself, Applejack stepped forward and quickly threw herself at her brother, taking his neck into an embrace, balancing against him on her rear hooves. A breeze of wind followed Mac's sharp wing beat. Both of them stood spread, facing up. The silence was practically audible.

Slowly, the feathers descended as the stallion gently tucked them against his sides. The mare simply ran a hoof through his mane, comforting her brother. It was a gesture the two would share since the most early days, back when Big Mac wasn't yet called "Big".

He was her older brother, an example of self-composure and rational mind, but even his ever-so-calm self would break under pressure. He was the eldest, he could not show such obvious weakness. There was nopony else to show his sisters how to deal with the farm - Granny was becoming too senile for such business. As such, he would lock himself in his room, crying himself to sleep every odd month or so.

It wasn't until Applejack forcefully bucked doors ajar and comforted him that Mac finally opened himself. Overcoming his drive to be a good older brother, he would share his problems with his little sister. True, they were petty at best, but they piled up into a fine mess. Still, she was always there, ready to listen when the time was right. As they both grew older and Applebloom came into the world, he began to deal with his himself a bit better, trying to set the little filly an example.

And now, they stood in silence in the middle of the room, simply hugging each other.

"There there brother. Sit yourself down and let me clean 's mess up," she finally drawled out, disengaging from the embrance.

Macintosh took a step back, almost dropping his flank down on the floor. Applejack helped him slightly, guiding the sullen mass back unto the couch. He stared at the distance through the window, tears flowing down his face.

"Jacks... auh... just what am'Ah?", he muttered under his breath.

"Yer Big Macintosh, my brother, why d'ya ask?", she replied quickly before grabbing some cloth off the kitchen rack.

He once again flapped right wing, eyeing it with curious disinterest, fright perhaps. He was worn out emotionally, so much was clear.

"Bu... how can Ah work like this?"

"Lhikeh whhath?", she tried to sound as normal as she could. Fact was she was just as confused by the situation as he was.

"Yer still the same ol' big pony as ever. Ah mean, Ah haven't seen ye doing loop'd'loops like a certain friend o'mine," Applejack added after spitting the soaked cloth back unto the counter, heading back to the kitchen for some tea.

Mac turned over to her, tucking his wing slightly. "What if customers come over to th' Acres? We're earth ponies, sis. No Apple was anythin' but."

"Ah'm sure they'll understand," she scowled from the other room.

"Ah'm sure they won't. 'sides, don't pegasi have some different structure or somethin'?", he barely could construct a sentence. "Ah mean... how can Ah pull the plough like that?"

"Yer yoke still fits," she deadpanned. She couldn't allow herself to become mellow as well. It was bad enough that Mac was crying.

"And th' buckin'? Ah never bucked with... uhm... six li—"

"Hush. Ah've ghoth yhehr theah," Applejack walked over carrying a small cup with her mouth.

He smiled slightly at the notion, carefully taking it over on his broad hoof. He pulled it closer, tasting the apple-scented flavour.

"Umm... Mac?"

He finally felt a slight squeeze against his right wing. The mare sat herself right next to him on the couch, just as he was trying to tuck the thing in. The result was an awkward hug-like expression from the large stallion.

Macintosh almost spat his tea, quaffing a bit and quickly drinking it down as he quickly tried to correct the position. Unfortunately, Applejack squeezed against his feathers slightly, making him unable to fully move the limb. The wing flayed around a little bit as he desperately tried to fix the situation.

"Mac, stop it. 's fine!"

The red appendage settled over her once again. He knew pegasi had large wings, almost four times the width of their head across. But his were truly humongous, almost capable of touching to the ceiling were he to spread them out. As the situation was, he almost completely covered the mare to his side.

"Ye know brother? 's doesn't feel half-bad."

Macintosh almost spat out his tea, again.

"Bh... Jacks, 's ain't right."

"Ah know sugar cube," she caught herself uttering her usual phrase against somepony absolutely inappropriate of build. "We'll figure somethin' out, right? My friend Twilight knows all about s' kind of stuff," she spoke reassuringly.

"Wh'... Wait, ye want me to... No, no Jacks no. Ah can't leave th' farm like that," the red stallion protested. Reading his emotions was easier for Applejack and Applebloom than for anypony else. Now it was less than trivial, his large wings gesticulating more than he had ever in his entire lifetime.

"Watch it Mac. Still, Ah could get Twilight over 'ere if yer... y'know."

The large wing almost smacked the mare over her head. Almost.

"Ah'm not lettin' a lady trouble herself over me. Uhm... Ah guess Ah'll go," he said unsure of himself.

In fact, he wasn't truly sure of anything anymore.

Applejack smiled at him, almost making him drop his tea as she once again embraced her brother in a familiar hug.

It must have been the tea, but Macintosh felt at strange ease. His thoughts were still swirling around like a tornado in his head, but he could swore he found the eye of the storm for the time being. He gently put the cup away.

And returned the hug.

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She wasn't spying or eavesdropping. Far from it. It's not spying if they talk loud enough to be heard through the whole house. She's not being rude if they're discarding their privacy altogether. Of course it's fine. Nopony can blame her.

Right?

Such and similar thoughts haunted little Applebloom in her sleep. She didn't fully realise just what had happened that day. She was supposed to expand the tree-house. A new floor was something the Crusaders could use. A new room dedicated just for planning their endeavours in finding their special talents.

She already had sketched it out, measured the dimensions in her head. She even began studying how their own house was jammed together. It wasn't too hard. She only had to add and subtract.

Nothing she couldn't handle.

But as life would have it, again, something went wrong. A cart full of tools which Scootaloo insisted on stacking had suddenly cut loose from Sweetie's messy hoofwork, and even her own nails couldn't keep the fabric from tearing. If anything, they probably just made it worse.

She had never felt so terrified as back then. She could almost see her entire life flashing before her eyes - her first birthday, her first bucked apple, the first day at school, the feeling when Snips was first to get his cutie mark, how Diamond Tiara bullied her over being a blank-flank, Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle, founding of the Crusaders.

Something had then tugged her by her tail, and she closed her eyes from fright. A few moments later she had found herself face-first in dirt after Mac dropped her down from his mouth. It had taken her mind a second to catch up to the situation, but she was quick enough to return the gesture as best as she could - with hugs.

But for the hay of her she could not remember Big Mac having wings before.

She tugged her sheet with her mouth, trying to cover herself entirely. She and Applejack had spent enough time trying to drag him into the house, and by the time everything settled down in the filly it was already extremely late. That, and eavesdropping on their little conversation later on.

Wait. "Overhearing". Better.

Point was that little Applebloom couldn't sleep. It was well past her bedtime, and now she was most probably stuck awake all night, counting sheep or fondly regarding the wooden planks that made for her ceiling.

She heard a sound of something hitting the wooden wall outside, but was quick to shrug it off as the planks shrinking from the cold.

That is, until she heard it again.

The second poke worried her. Apple thieves? Winona should barking her little lungs out if that was the case. A stray bird? They were more intelligent than that. What if... it was a ghost? The lil' filly was shaking by that point.

Something inside, however, drove her to investigate. Maybe... just maybe if it was a ghost she could scare it off and even earn a Ghost-Busting Cutie Mark! That silly notion pushed her forward.

As she approached the window, a large shadow almost crashed through it, just barely hovering its hooves over at the windowsill. She could feel the weight sliding down both the wall and down her throat.

With a quick jump to the side, she prepared her hind legs. If something was trying to assault her room, she would give it a well-deserved buck to the face. She crawled slightly under the window, assuming the right position as she rested her hooves against the wall.

The creature struck against the wall, this time clinging to her window. She could, by now, feel it rasp its hooves or feet or ethereal tail against the opposite side. It was... falling?

Applebloom turned around and gazed through, noticing two large red hooves with rather messy fetlocks.

"...Mac?!"

The filly didn't think twice, quickly jumping out and grabbing her brother with her mouth. She wasn't very strong, but she hoped her weight would at least help her brother climb up. She wasn't good at physics - far from it. All the formulas, even most basic ones, confused her endlessly. When it came down to practical application though, she always aced whatever the task at hand.

This time was no exception, as the large stallion came rolling in over the window into her room, leaving stray feathers everywhere. The two untangled each other from a collective mess of hair, hooves and wings with just the minimum amount of wincing.

"W-what are ye doin' Big Mac?!" She was, at very least, unhinged by the experience, yet years of addressing her brother in the usual manner held adamantly.

The deep-red stallion said nothing for the moment, eager to first make the spinning in his eyes stop. As soon as he could differentiate between down and up, he gently focused to move his wings, eyeing them with slight contempt.

"Ah... Ah can't sleep. They keep itchin'," he flapped the offenders slightly.

Applebloom couldn't help but giggle. This just prompted Mac to raise his eyebrow in question.

"Uhm... so Ah figured they need some... eh... exercise," he began to trail off into explaining his actions. As much as Applejack helped him calm down, he was still mighty perplexed by the situation he had somehow gotten himself into. He had read about pegasi anatomy some time ago, among other subjects in his prized collection. Apparently, since these ponies are biologically designed to spend majority of their time in the air, their wings demand to be kept in shape by themselves. If a pegasus was to ignore such routine, his back would start itching to remind him of the bare necessities.

By the time he had finished recapping this particular chapter to himself, Applebloom was already behind his back, poking his feathers with her muzzle, giggling.

"They're so soft Big Mac!"

He moved around trying to spot the filly, but he just managed to push her over on her flank with his wing.

"Mighty sorry sis," he drawled opening his eyes. Did he hurt her?

A laughing fit confirmed the contrary. The little filly was too busy enjoying the soft feathers on her coat as she played with them like with a new pillow.

"Uhmm... Applebloom?"

"Ahehe... sorry Big Mac, they're just awesome."

They're what?

"I mean, y'can fly? How cool is that?"

"Eh, Ah..."

"I bet y'can race Rainbow Dash! Scootaloo will die from envy when my big bro wins with her!"

"Uhm... really now..."

"Oh! Oh! Ye could teach Scootaloo how to fly! She's been askin' Rainbow for lessons but she always declines!"

"Applebloom, please," Mac finally managed to squeeze himself into the clearly one-sided dialogue. He found himself much more opt to vocalizing himself at this state of mind.

"As ye can see, Ah'm not really a good flier mahself... and Ah'm definitely not as fast as Miss Dash," he heaved himself unto all fours, finally rising up. The filly was quick to catch up, following his new wings with fascination, completely unlike the first time she saw them. Now that she managed to put the two and two together, she could only wonder how did it feel to actually... well... fly!

"Listen sugarcube, 's late. Ya go to sleep now, ya need t'rest before school like a good filly. Hush hush now."

"But Big Maaac!" she tried to protest but was quickly shot down by a stern stare from her older brother.

"...agh, fine."

She turned around and took a single of Macintosh's feathers into her mouth, fixing it into her mane with a few quick gestures of her hoof. She turned around, giving the red stallion a most infective grin.

Infective enough to cause him to smile on his own. Something he hadn't hoped to achieve tonight.

He gave her a reassuring pat as he helped her up to her bed. He turned around as she followed him with her eyes, as if expecting something. With another thud, Mac took a step back. He forgot to tuck his wings, springing his entire body backwards as they jammed between the tight door frame. With a mutter, he finally brought them closer and walked outside. Closing the door, he popped his head in to turn off the light.

Applebloom was lapsing into a giggling fit again.

Finally, he gently pushed the switch with his muzzle as the room bathed in Luna's moonlight.

Maybe... maybe it's not so bad after all? I guess... ouch they hurt.

He gently tried to flap his right wing, only for the searing sensation to come back immediately. There was some ointment in the bathroom, as far as he could remember.

"Haystacks."

Whiff in the Prismatic Morning

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Chapter IV

The morning sun's rays effortlessly pierced though what remained of Macintosh's thinly-veiled dream. They were surprisingly lurid today. Slowly stretching the legs under his body, he savoured the last remnants of rest. It had been a good night, strangely enough. Even though he managed to crash himself multiple times against the wall, almost break the bones in his new appendages and startle both of his sisters, he somehow still got a lion's share of sleep. Yawning, he finally decided to open his eyes and raise up. Winged or not, he should at the very least prepare his ceremonial breakfast.

Though doing so from the roof of the Apple household seemed counter-intuitive at very best.

He sleepwalked. Sometimes. All in all, it might had happened twice or thrice before. Usually he would drop himself near the fireplace or relocate to the barn, waking up head-covered in hay.

But this time, he somehow managed to fly himself on the roof.

Why can't anything be easy any more?

The house wasn't that tall, he tried to reason with himself. He also had wings. It can't be that hard getting down. Take a slight jump off the side and glide to terra firma safely. He didn't have any other choice anyway - climbing down the chimney would be awkward and he could swear he'd jam himself somewhere around the mid-point.

Mac slowly walked over to the edge, looking down and judging the height. The choice was simple. He could either wait for Applejack to wake up and ask for a ladder from the barn. Which would not only embarrass himself but also needlessly task his sister. Or he could jump and try to land.

Here goes nothing.

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Applejack was woken up by, strangely, not the chicken's screech. Instead, the sound made her think about somepony trying to violently hit the chicken with a heavy object. She dismissed the silly image and quickly picked herself up from her bed. Grabbing her towel from the rack, she immediately headed to the bathroom. She had to be fast if she wanted to stir something good up for her brother. After what he had gone through yesterday, he well-deserved it.

As she entered the bathroom, the first thing that caught her eyes was the horrendous mess all over the sink. Granny Smith's favourite ointment had been spilt all over the floor, somehow even managing to land on the rear wall and stain the window. Applejack grumbled something before trotting over to the counter, pulling out a mop with her mouth and dragging out a fibre with her hoof. It seems cleaning herself will have to wait; cleaning the room comes first.

__________________________________________________________

His hay stalk held firmly in place, Macintosh was finally enjoying himself after the horrible gauntlet of unfortunate events. With quick jabs of his mouth, he sent the pancakes flying from one pan to another. Apple fritters were already roasting, the pleasant aroma filling his nostrils. Stewed apples bubbled pleasantly. He always wanted to try the recipe after one of his cousins from Stalliongrad shared it with him on the last Apple Family Meet-up.

They're actually somewhat useful.

The intense heating rising from the stove was constantly beaming against his face. The light from Celestia's sun didn't help much either. Strangely though, he found his wings invaluable in such situation. He flapped them up and down, slowly, taking large arcs to gather as much air as he could, cooling himself bit by bit.

With a twitch of his ear, he managed to hear the wooden stairs creak. He shrugged slightly; she'll have to wait for her meal a little bit longer. With that, he grabbed the pan and flapped the pancakes around once more.

"Mornin' Mac," Applejack said still almost half-yawning. Her hair was a bit messy - she clearly didn't put enough effort in her (still minimal) grooming.

"Ye seem t'be feelin' better today," she continued. The large stallion turned over his head for a second, gently nodding.

"Eeeyup."

"When's the food?"

"Five minutes."

"Sweet. Eh, Mac..." Applejack finally made the attempt to stir the topic in the right direction, leaning against the frame to the living room while her brother shoved himself around the kitchen left and right.

"Eeeyup?"

"Ah stayed up a tad and managed to sew ye somethin' for today, least Ah could do."

He gave her an inquisitive expression.

"We had some ol' fabrics and scraps lyin' around the closet so Ah figured we might as well put 'em to good use. Ah made ye a cloak to hide them wings of yers," she smiled sheepishly.

"...that's mighty nice of ye Jacks."

"Don't mention it. As Ah've said, least Ah could do."

The realization finally shot through his head. That, or the cork of the kettle as the water finished boiling.

"Whadd'ya mean ye ain't comin'?" he asked somewhat confused, massaging the temple of his head from the fresh hit.

"Well, Ah don't know if ya noticed, but somepony has t'keep an eye on th'farm. Ya don't leave 'ere all too often, but now Ah guess it's my turn to keep watch," she replied with a slight hint of sarcasm. True, he was the one to stay at the farm. He or Granny Smith. But since the old mare wouldn't be coming back to the Acres until later this evening, the obvious task really did fall on Applejack's shoulders.

"Ya'll walk Applebloom to school then, and drop by Twilight's on yer way back. Say, how long has it been since y'walked the filly, hmm?"

"About... three years or so?"

She only replied with a snide smirk.

Something fizzled behind Mac's head.

"Drat, pancakes!" he yelped as he quickly turned around fanning his wings to cool the thing down.

__________________________________________________________

The rest of the early morning was rather dull and thankfully uneventful. The two ate their breakfast in relative silence, Applejack trying for her worst to stir up a conversation. She insisted that if he's going to visit Twilight on his own, he should be at least able to tell her more than Eyups and Nopes. If he's trying to find help, he needs to go out and ask for it, instead of waiting for someone to guess his problems.

Macintosh didn't really pay attention to half of her rant, though he did register her making a few valid points.

It's just the fact he wasn't comfortable speaking to other ponies. Of course, he knew all of Applejack's friends, and even some other individuals such as Lyra, Bon-Bon and even Caramel. Still, they didn't know him. He could possibly hurt them, or come off as insensitive or plain rude. For the better, he had been limiting his interactions with other ponies for years now. At least that is what the stallion kept telling himself.

Soon Applejack went out into the fields for her daily share of chores, today doubly so as she took her brother's duties upon herself, again. Helping the only way he could, Mac was content in cleaning the dishes and putting away the stewed apples to cool off. Just as he pulled the fritters outside, another filly descended from the first floor.

"Mornin' Big Mac!" Applebloom was ecstatic. Unlike her older sister, she was well-kept and rested. His red feather was still hanging from over her right ear. As she trotted closer, her eyes instantly went wide. With a quick swipe and a slight jump, the filly nagged one apple fritter from the plate, which was still held in Mac's mouth.

I swear she's too good at this.

"Umhm, Big Mac, why arn't ye in the fields?" she stopped munching on her meal half-way, turning over at her brother from the chair.

"Ah'll be walkin' ye t'school today. Ah've go—"

"Whaa, ye haven't done so in... in a very long time! Ah swear ye won't recognise some of my friends. Hah, they won't recognise ye too!" she mused to herself while happily devouring the fritter. In no time, he could swear she learned magic just to make the batter invisible. She was such a motor mouth. Macintosh couldn't even explain the situation at all as the filly kept rambling on and on.

Soon enough, both of them left the house, the stallion dressed in a makeshift, multi-coloured cloak tucked under his yoke.

__________________________________________________________

As the pair left the Acres far behind them, the distinct buildings of Ponyville came into view. It was still some time before they would arrive, and little Applebloom did not waste a minute gushing about even most irrelevant topics. He managed to filter out most of her silly banter, content enough to enjoy the view of the clouds in the sky. Something was drawing his attention to the white blobs high above him.

Of course, it's no secret that natural pegasi magic allowed them to interact with the ethereal puff like an earth pony would do with his tools. The city of Cloudsdale was forged entirely out of the white material. Finally, a most silly notion came through his mind.

...Maybe I can stand on clouds now, too? I... I do have wings, that's not much of a stretch.

Applebloom's nagging became more and more apparent. Even he could no longer ignore her. He could swear she also started speaking with a few new voices. He quickly shook his head, clearing his stray thoughts.

The two were almost in the middle of Ponyville, crowds of ponies walking around them busy with their own lives. Some of these politely slowed down and exchanged nods and greetings with Applebloom. To his surprise, they even gave him a polite bow of their heads. He didn't recognise any of these ponies, but as good manners would have it, he returned each and every one of them a nod as well.

He really didn't appreciate the commotion. Sometimes ponies would dash right beside him, almost running into him - or rather, he would run them over instead. He didn't mind crowds - he enjoyed his peace and quiet. He could easily suppress that silly need. Mac, however, did mind the stray pony's physically interaction with him in one way or another. And many of them weren't neither as experienced as Applejack or Applebloom. One wrong movement, one wrong step and he could be charged with assault or even send an innocent to the hospital with a broken hoof or two.

Still, the siblings managed to get through half of the town without causing any calmor. If he managed well so far, he could surely hold out for the rest of the trip. Macintosh even managed to spot the Books and Branches resting over the hill, his destination as soon as he's done dropping off Applebloom at her school.

And Macintosh would mean "drop off" literally, as the little filly had since climbed on his back, resting over his wings.

"Applebloom..."

"Ye said they itch, hmm? Well, how about Ah make sure ye don't do anything stupid and accidentally flap them or somethin'. 's just a piece of cloth," her explanation was shoddy at the very best, but he would oblige. It's his little sister after all.

He had grown to using that explanation for anything now, hadn't he?

The two had left the crowded, busy side of the town, now making their way through a much more spacious district of lush gardens and small rivers. The sparse pony traffic was a source of relief for the big stallion. Still, some of the passerbyes he only knew by glance would flock even closer to him in their greetings. Sometimes commenting silently on his brotherly devotion.

They really think I can't hear them from here, do they?

The paved road they walked on was nearing its end, a single stone bridge would lead them over the river into the school grounds. Aside from trees and bushes, this area was almost empty.

Just a single, large building stood out like a sore hoof. The ground underneath it was slightly tilled, marks of something incredibly heavy dragged along lead directly to the walls. There was a single purple pony with a dark mane overseeing the building, trotting around it and paying curious glances to the walls and the ground around it. She was a peculiar sight, as the mare lapsed from a happy grin to a look of fury as her eyes jumped between the pristine planks and the ravaged soil.

Celestia have mercy, because Berry Punch surely wouldn't spare none.

In a cruel, though unavoidable, twist of fate, the violet mare turned her eyes away from her household just at that moment. Her gaze instantly locked down on Big Macintosh. A most sinister grin crept on her face. The stallion could swear his heartbeat suddenly got unnaturally fast. Even though he could feel his entire body tensing up, he would display none of it.

At least, under normal circumstances he wouldn't.

As soon as she made a step forward, his wings instantly flared up in shock. Little Applebloom wasted not a second, spreading herself across his back trying to hold them down. It looked awkward, to say the least. With each step, Mac's expression would remain unchanged, yet his back would bump up and down furiously.

"Big Mac, heehsh! Calm down! Ye'll blow ye cover!" the filly tried to mumble to his ear, although it proved to be more than troublesome.

Finally, Berry Punch stopped.

Right in front of the red behemoth. His perfect poker face betrayed nothing, unlike his back. Applebloom was still wiggling around against his wings. Finally, her patience had ran out as she bucked Macintosh forcefully on his neck. Even though he did not budge, it had a positive effect - his wings simply froze. Success.

"Good morning, Macintosh Apple. And to you too, little Applebloom," she spoke in a surprisingly soft tone.

"Howdy," Appelbloom replied from her brother's back. He, however, remained silent.

"Beautiful weather we're having now, hmmm?"

"Eeeyup," he finally drawled.

"Ah, I'm glad you share my enthusiasm towards weather-gazing. See, I enjoy the warm sun's rays beaming through my window, gently waking me up each consecutive day. There's just this tiny problem, a petty one you see. I'm sure you find this a laughable subject, really..." she trailed off.

Mac knew well enough where this was headed.

"...but I find it hard to enjoy my mornings now that my quarters face the west, you see?"

This came as an absolute shock to the stallion. He had braced himself for a most impressive shout, but it never came.

"Somehow, just yesterday, my house had found itself dragged across the entire town. I'm sure you noticed the trails leading all the way here. I swear I was dreaming that day, it was just so surreal. Like one of those abstract paintings. But, I'm sure you know, that was not a dream. It was real, yes? Of course it was. Because that RED STALLION WHO PULLED MY HOME OFF ITS FOUNDATIONS AND HOPPED MARRILY THROUGH PONYVILLE WITH NOT A SINGLE WORRY ON HIS DARNED HEAD WAS YOU, MACINTOSH APPLE!!"

His winged bumped up against Applebloom one more time.

"Eeyump. Ah'm mighty sorry Miss Punch."

Mac noticed something he hadn't before. Right there, lying behind the opened door - rope.

"Glad you are. So, how about we get to fixing this little inconvenience. That's why you're here after all, yes?"

"E..eyup. Ah... nnope... ugh..." she had him deadlocked.

"Let me get the necessities then..." the mare muttered as she turned around.

As on a cue, Applebloom quickly jumped on Macintosh's head, hastily making a mess out of his mane.

"Work with meh, Big Mac," she whispered to his ear just before forcibly pulling it down. The filly slid down back unto earth, tugging the cloak's side around his yoke, covering his front a bit more.

By the time Berry Punch turned around, rope in her mouth, the presentable stallion looked as if he had seen nothing less than a windigo blizzard.

"We're sorry Miss Berry Punch, but big brother Macintosh is here just to drop me off t'school. He'll be going for his medicine right away and then stay at bed t'whole day!" she exaggerated her gestures to a ridiculous degree.

"Whehl..." she spat the rope down. "If that's the case, then why didn't you say so sooner? I wouldn't have insisted were I to know your brother's so sick."

He was bad at lying. Not as bad as Applejack, though if there was anything that would break his stalwart poker face, it was a blatant lie. He decided to remain silent in this conversation.

"Thank'ye for understandin', Miss Berry Punch!" Applebloom's head was basically constantly bobbing up and down.

"Ah, don't worry Applebloom. Pray tell when your brother gets better, alright?"

"Will do Miss Berry Punch!"

The mare gave the filly a gentle pat on her head as she moved closer to Mac.

"...next week."

She walked away from him, and for a second he could swear he was standing right next to himself. His little sister was resting against his right leg, breathing heavily. Her peace was quickly cut short by a familiar bell ringing from across the river.

"Drats. Ugh, ye won't meet mah friend then, Big Mac. Got to go!" she was already on the bridge shouting the last part before disappearing behind the chiselled rock.

And thus he found himself alone, with a certain mare's gaze weighting him down more than any physical exhaustion. She circled him like a wolf, slowly closing distance to its pray. Nothing could escape her inspecting eye.

"You don't look that sick at all. Normally ponies are all flared up when sick. Or at least I am.... It's the coat, right?"

"Eh... eheyup," he muttered slightly. He wasn't technically lying - his red coat did help him hide both flares and blushes.

Like it did now.

"Why are you wearing this old rug anyway? It's not like you're heating up before a warm bath or anything," she continued, getting uncomfortably close. Finally, she nonchalantly prodded his covered side with her hoof.

His wing reacted appropriately, though Mac was slightly more conscious of them after Applebloom's direct approach, fluttering slightly and making the cloak shake a bit.

"Ah... what's that?" she had already raised her hoof when Mac finally turned around, nervously stepping back.

"Oh, you're hiding something? Don't, I know it's something to further break my house down. I'm sure of it. Now spill the grapes!" her voice much more demanding now.

"Eeeh...yu... Ah mean nope! Enope!" he muttered slightly, trying to look as inconspicuous as possible.

Though his face was twisting and turning in a series of horrible grimaces with each sound coming out of his mouth.

"Ah, tell me, you! I can't let you work with my house if you're going to blow it up! Or set it on fire! Or paint it red! Or..." she continued to list reason after ridiculous reason.

At this moment, Macintosh felt something cold against his flank.

Haystacks.

He bumped his rump against the dead stone of the bridge, and Berry Punch's slow trot was unrelenting, just as her more and more pressing demeanour.

"Oh, good morning Berry Punch, Macintosh."

A soft, methodical voice quickly interrupted whatever mania Berry Punch had gotten herself into. Mac felt incredibly relieved. A purple unicorn stepped down from the bridge, giving them both a polite nod. He returned it quickly, while his assailant hesitated for a second before once again going through a complete flip of personality.

"Oh, good morning to you too, Twilight Sparkle. I see the book delivery went swimmingly?"

"Not as bad as I planned for it to go, no, so I guess I should be grateful for that. And... umm... what brings you outside the farm so early, Big Macintosh?" she turned her head towards the stallion.

Come on, come on. Speak to her. She won't help you if you keep mumbling like you always do. Just this once.

"...ah... Ah guess Ah need some help from ye, Miss Sparkle," he finally spoke out of his own volition, though as soon as anything cohere came out of his mouth, he quickly broke eye contract with the purple unicorn.

A mild expression of shock jolted over Twilight's face, making her raise an eyebrow in regards to Macintosh's curious behaviour.

"I guess it's pretty serious if came to me directly. It's about the farm, isn't it?"

"Eeyup," it was not a lie, per se.

"If I am to help you, I'll need peace and quiet to evaluate the problem. Let's discuss everything in detail at the library, all right, Big Macintosh?"

"Eeyup."

"He's sick," Berry Punch interjected bluntly.

"Oh! Well, I have a book just with a few simple remedies, though I'd still suggest you go talk to Nurse Redheart."

"'s not about that," another look of shock went through both the stallion and Twilight.

"Well... um... I guess we should get trotting then."

"Eeyup," he drawled slightly more enthusiastically than he should.

"Well, good day then. And remember Macintosh Apple. Next. Week."

The purple earth pony finally gave up, turning around and slowly walking back to her migrated household.

"Now... what was that about, Big Macintosh?"

__________________________________________________________

The walk to the library was mostly uneventful. Majority if not all ponies were occupied, tending to their work or busy being somewhere else but the street the pair had decided to take. They walked slowly in solemn silence - something usual and cherished by the stallion. Still, he could feel her analytic gaze stuck from on his right flank, though for far different reasons. His cloak was slightly rugged from the earlier hassle, and it managed to loose itself right at that spot, revealing just a tiny feather of his wing.

Still, she said not a word. He was becoming unsure if this suited him any longer.

Finally, they reached the Books and Branches. Macintosh stopped before the door, stepping aside with a polite nod. Twilight returned the gesture as the door swung open from a magical grip.

The inside was a nice sight for the eyes - the entire main room was bathed in strands of sunlight cutting through the windows. Placed right in the middle of the circular area was a single "table" - a piece of the hollowed tree left to imitate furniture. One could see specks of dust dance in the beams illuminating the books. Still, these were sparse, a testament to just how well Twilight and her assistant managed to keep this place.

"You're back home early. Have to wait for your lunch though, I wasn't expecting you back so fast!" came a familiar voice from over to the small passage to the left of the library.

"It's fine, Spike. What are we having anyway?" the mare replied.

"Roasted dandelions."

"Good. Get to it, I have some work to do over here myself," she finished on a warm note.

"So then. What's the problem? If you're sick you should have really went for the hospital instead. I... I know some herbal remedies and traditional cures from my books, but this doesn't change the fact I deal mainly in magical maligns."

"Ehh... Miss Twilight... Ah... about that," he was unsure how to start.

"Ye may wanna sit down."

She only manage to make a curious face, slowly walking back to the table.

Macintosh gently tucked against his cloak with his mouth. It didn't want to come off. It seemed Applebloom had shoved it harder underneath his yoke than he would like.

"Um... would you like some help with that?"

"Nhphne, Ahmhm fhine."

Darn she bound it well.

With no other choice, Macintosh pulled a side of the cloak forcibly and, at the same time, unfurled his wings. The piece of stitched materials quickly shot up, building an impressive hump on his back. It lowered down quickly, the clothing apparently tied in a knot underneath his belly. He would have to try again with slightly more force.

Not that Twilight didn't have her jaw already down on the floor by this time.

One last time, Mac simultaneously pulled his cloak with his mouth while spreading the wings as hard as he could. Finally, with a satisfying rip, the coil gave away to pressure. The tattered sack came flying down from his back, dropping down on the floor near him in an impressive storm of loose feathers from Applebloom's charade. He himself spread his additional limbs to their fullest, finally letting them catch some fresh air.

Attaining their maximum length, his wings towered over both him and the mare, reaching all the way to the impressive ceiling. Were he to jump, he could actually tip it. Still, he swung them down, trying to get a feel of them whole. Stray feathers, still clinging between one another, we left in the descent's wake. With a final deep breath, Macintosh tucked his wings, though not entirely. They hovered at his sides, still catching as much air as they could.

For most of the spectacle, Twilight just stared blankly at Macintosh, her mouth dangerously unhinged. She managed to mutter a silent "whoa" when he had brought them down. Now, slightly more composed, she just looked at him with her mouth closed, breathing in and out deeply through her nose.

"Ahm sorry Miss Sparkle... Ah... Ah kinda had t'a."

"You came to the correct place indeed," she muttered, her mind still running wild through the possible causes. Methodically, she trotted over to Macintosh and began examining each and every bit of his body.

"Could you flap it once for me, Big Macintosh?"

"Eeeyup," he said somewhat unsure of himself.

"That's good... umm.. fine, now the other one please."

In the coming minutes she had scanned him thoroughly. Technically, every bit of his body was where it should be. His legs were correctly joined, his neck wasn't deformed, his flanks were still standing correctly in relation to his tail.

But for some reason, his shoulders sprung outwards into two large claws of flesh, bone and sinew. That, and feathers.

With a fizzle in the air, her horn began glowing with the lavender miasma. A series of four books flew from random sections of the library, dancing around her in a matriculate manner. Every so often, one would lower itself down and open before her gaze, its pages flipping on an invisible wind. Then, they would stop and the tome would float away as another took its place.

She finally noticed the large stallion staring at her with worry in his eyes. His mouth was half-opened, as if he was trying to start speaking. She didn't give him a chance.

"It's fine, really. Make yourself at home while I figure out what's wrong with you, hmm? Earth ponies don't grow wings overnight just-like-that...".

"That's what Ah've been sayin'," he retorted silently, turning around over to the impressive collection of literature.

He walked over to the shelf, neatly labelled as "Sky, Astronomy and Space". Searching up and down, he finally found his favourite Almanac.

"Miss Sparkle, can ah—" he turned his head only to notice a hurricane of scrolls, quills, inks and most importantly, books and tomes of all kinds swirling around the unicorn as she muttered phrases and exempts from them to herself.

I guess she won't mind at all.

He grabbed the book with his mouth with utmost care. Such things were highly praised by the stallion, and he would make sure no harm would come to these classics. Twirling around, he set out to the unoccupied table. As he gently dropped his new reading material, he noticed a small drake standing in the doorway, shocked with its jaw agape. He himself was locked in the middle of an awkward pose, teeth still gently touching the firm cover. He opened his eyes to their fullest, a sense of embarrassment creeping over his mind.

The only thing piercing the awful silence was Twilight's constant, low and absent-minded mutter.

"Wow, allergies hit hard, don't they?"

Melody of Meek Windchimes

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Chapter V

Hour by hour crept past, accompanied spell by another confusing spell. Macintosh slowly began to had enough. He could easily judge it was well past noon - the luminous rays subtly changed their angles since his arrival to Books and Branches. And in all that time, he had barely managed to read another chapter from his astrological book. Wave after wave of magic flushed over his body, either doing nothing in particular or inducing another crazy effect. And of those he swore he could make a list by now - he had been shrunk, grown, his mane and coat had been re-coloured a dozen times, he changed into a pig, a sheep and a bunny. He swore he could feel his tail turn into a fish's flipper one time. Finally, Twilight somehow managed to show him what it meant to be a mare. Thank Celestia that change was the briefest.

As he mused, another flash of light blinded him momentarily. Twilight, yet again, sent a magical probe through his body before they both collapsed. Mac had tucked his wings down and took on a most defensive position, still afraid he would somehow end up a splatter on the wall, just like back when the unicorn made his hooves all slippery.

The mare, on the other hand, let her head hit the ground in with audible thud. She sighed forcefully, blowing a gust of warm air from her nostrils in apparent frustration. A single wooden cup of water slid by her face as her eyes met with those of her small drake. Somehow, he managed to sneak by the two unnoticed.

"You're giving up now or should I prepare the broom in case of another hurricane?" he asked sarcastically, grinning slightly at his sister.

"..." Twilight's response consisted only of silence as she gulped down the refreshment with aid of her telekinesis.

"I just don't know. I tried everything - every transfiguration spell, every physical enchantement, thanks for the water Spike, even that one spell Starswirl deemed too dangerous to use on other ponies. Nothing. Not. A. Single. Reaction. It all comes bouncing back. Argh, my mind is in shambles," she fell rolling over on her back.

Mac had almost forgotten being turned into a clay saucer for a minute. He simply couldn't fathom Twilight's fascination with bowl-making spells. Still, he let that thought slide. A much more dire sensation came over him quick enough.

The Element of Magic and probably the only unicorn in the entire area with such deep understanding of arcane lore, couldn't help him. His wings remained connected to his back, taunting him with their mere existence. He gave them an angry flap before tucking them down again.

"Ah... Ah'm mighty sorry for troublin' ye like that, Miss Sparkle," his voice was laced with sincere regret. He barged into her home and needlessly pestered her, even though she probably had much, much more vital task to do.

"Think nothing of it, Macintosh."

His eyes and ears (and wings) momentarily perked up. He was not expecting such response.

"You're a challenge for me. I thought I had known most of transfiguration magic like the back of my hoof. It only took a few chapters to turn bunnies into stallions and give Rarity her own pair of wings... yet no matter what I do, I can't seem to take yours away," she started with a mutter, and quickly escalated into a lecture on the history of her magic mishaps.

"No, you're not troubling me. At all. In fact, stay a little longer. I'm not giving up before I solve this riddle. That, and you're a friend of mine - friends take great lengths to help friends, don't they?" she finished with a cheerful grin before snapping her head to the side - another array of books covered in purple mist jutted from the case and levitated before her.

"Ah'm... uhm... thanks, Miss Spark--" he drawled underneath his breath, but was quickly interrupted by the unicorn.

"Sssh, I'm trying to think here," she gave him a rather soft warning and an audible hush.

The big mountain blushed once again, gently taking a step back over to his table. He always considered Twilight Sparkle to be a mysterious, introvert mare. Of course, he had heard of her many adventures, most of those retold first-hoof from his own sister, the Element of Honesty herself. Still, the leader of their party was an unicorn - they worked with magic, practically breathing it in their every step. It was helpful, yes, but it facilitated tardiness.

How can one truly know the burden and dedication of hard work if one could just wish everything into place with a fickle of one's horn? He always stood fast in his belief - all unicorns are the same. The occasional customer from Canterlot would only reaffirm his beliefs. For whatever reason, all of the magical ponies from the capital took bonus time to rub in just how superior they are to everypony, even if they just came to order a few tonnes of apples for another of their silly royal parties.

Yet the storm of knowledge and writs behind his back was a nasty scar on his theory. She had probably forsaken her entire day just to help a stranger like him. She endured almost four or more hours of casting her spells, a chore clearly as tasking to her as pulling a broken plough for him. When that failed to bring any resolution, she simply whiskered him away and continued on her research into his matter. Macintosh understood that for a pony to be truly strong, one should have both able body and an illustrious mind - and working on the former was just as important as on the latter.

Can't believe I'm thinking this. I'm admiring... an unicorn?

He shook his head, trying to clear his mind once more. Maybe a few chapters of the Almanac would do him just good enough? He trotted over to his table only to find his prized book... missing, replaced by a small dragon trying to read his text upside-down.

"...I don't get it, it's gibberish," he put the book down on his laps, looking quizzically at Big Macintosh.

The stallion simply nudged the hard cover with his muzzle, turning it around. "There."

"Huh?" was Spike's only response. He looked at the pony with puzzled face, provoking the same response from the stallion.

"Somethin' wrong?"

"You are."

With these words, Macintosh looked mighty offended at the assistant.

"I mean, you're speaking. I haven't seen you saying more than yups and nopes since... darn, almost an year or more!" the young dragon's frankness drilled through his calm demeanour.

He's right.

"Ah'm... not a talkative type," he retorted conscious of himself.

"Heh, sure you aren't. I mean, it only took your entire world flipping upside-down... literally... to get you to talk," the drake chuckled.

Mac simply stood in silence, not sure how to respond to that.

"I didn't mean to insult you or anything... I was just laying down the facts," he shrugged, breaking eye-contact. Spike took his claw and turned the page, revealing another mouth-drawn graph of the night sky and a dozen of constellations.

"What do you see in these anyway? I swear they made more sense upside-down. At least they looked prettier."

"Ah don't know. 's just... helps the mind wonder, y'know? Ah like to think 'bout... things when Ah'm tired.".

Drat. Spike almost effortlessly coaxed the stallion in a conversation.

"So... they're just drawings for you then?" the dragon looked flummoxed.

"Eenope. Some of these have a practical use. Ah mean, 's the Ursa Major, yup? This star shines th' brightest in the night. Ye can't miss it. An' it's always poitin' north to boot."

"That's... interesting. And this one?" he pointed to another graph with his sharp little claw.

By this time Big Macintosh found himself seated on the floor with Spike lying on his belly just near him. They both peered over the "Astronomer's Almanac to All Things Astronomy", the stallion tapping his muzzle dot against dot, explaining the significance of each star in the night sky. The draconic assistant would listen, something in Mac's voice drawing his attention. His explanations were much more down-to-earth and laypony. When Twilight explained him her thesis, he would doze off instantly - it was so... alien and simply impossible to understand. Yet the red giant near him managed to put all of this arcane material into words simple enough for even the most stubborn to understand.

On the other side of the argument, Big Mac found spending his time in... enjoyment. He was talking, constantly almost, going into every little detail he could remember while the little dragon would just nod or occasionally ask an easy question. It must've been the unicorn's influence - he was much more receptive to learning than little Applebloom. A shocking thought crossed Mac's mind - he was speaking to a stranger and enjoying it. Almost as well as he did teaching his sister basic algebra. He felt something tingle in him. An emotion that hadn't surfaced for ages now.

He felt he was making a new friend.

__________________________________________________________

They managed to study what amounted to good four chapters of lore and sky analysis before the little dragon lost his interest. Big Macintosh continued to read, regardless. Twilight was still busy, trotting up and down the house. She would leap into the kitchen and then backtrack all the way to her bedroom. All that time a long line of books followed her. The stallion was amazed by her coordination - not only did she manage to flawless navigate a flight of stairs and evade all the previously discarded tomes on the ground, but in fact she never even broke eye-contact with her current subject, reading as she went.

His newly forming rope of thoughts was quickly cut short by a gentle tug on his side. He felt something, or rather, someone poking at his left wing. With a most content and gentle smile, he unfurled it slightly, catching the little custodian off guard. Unlike his sister, he only took a few steps back.

"So... have you ever tried flying with these yet? I'm kinda envious..."

"Eenope. Well um... Ah did, but Ah wouldn't call that flyin'."

The dragon chuckled. "What, did you fly into a barn or something?"

"...eeyup."

"It's harder than it looks, isin't it?"

"Eeyup... wasn't that obvious?" Mac added with a tiniest hint of sarcasm. Spike was definitely rubbing off on him.

"Rarity had no trouble going airborne as soon as she got her pair. Granted, they weren't real..." the dragon gently pulled on his non-existent beard.

"You know, you should really try to give it one more shot. If I were you I wouldn't stand sitting on the ground like that and just let them go to waste," he continued, electing to pester the stallion with more pokes to the delicate feathers.

"Why do ya wanna fly so bad?"

Seeing through Spike's badly-hidden disguise was a foal's play.

"Umm, duh? I'm a dragon, remember? Too young for that, true, but one day... I'll have my own pair of wings! And when I'll grow big, I'll be able to take other ponies on flights around town! And... and... maybe I'll be able to take Rarity on a lovely fly-over of entire Ponyville?" the little creature was lost in his blissful thoughts.

...which were quickly interrupted by a pained groan as the owner of the library slammed the door leading to another section of the building, walking in as she discarded the last book onto the rather impressive pile...

"I can now fully, absolutely and with no hint of guilt say that I've managed to read through all the magical reference manuals in this entire library and find exactly nothing relevant to our case," Twilight Sparkle almost shouted in frustration before she lowered herself down on the ground, lying on her back against the stairs, exhausted. She held her hooves by her head, rolling left and right.

"'s fine Miss Sparkle. Ah'm... Ah don't mind them too much...".

I do. A lot.

His lie was blatant, with both her and Spike looking at him in sheer disbelief. The unicorn more so than the dragon.

"Ummm, I might be stupid saying this but... what if the cause isn't magic-magic? You know Twilight..." his voice slowly lowered itself until it was barely more than a whisper.

Another beat of silence. Mac was becoming awfully irritated with these.

The unicorn's mouth opened slowly at first, and then gradually sped up until she stood up, flabbergasted. The stallion could swear he saw a small twinkle of a star in her eyes before she quickly galloped into the kitchen.

"Spike! Where did you put that book Zecora gave me on Monday?!" came a yell from the aforementioned room. The little dragon quickly got up from his rump and dashed over to one of the piles, digging in like an experienced diver.

The large red stallion still sat there, his mind trying to wrap up what had transpired around him. An idea was hatched and an order was swiftly issued. The atmosphere changed completely. The little assistant, just as suddenly as he had disappeared, pushed himself out of the pile. He was carrying an old book, green soft-cover. It was visibly old and well-worn. A small inscription of a herb and a mortar adorned it's front.

"SPIKE?! What's the meaning of this?!".

It didn't sound like Twilight at all. In fact, Mac could swear somepony somehow managed to sneak an Ursa Minor into the kitchen. The mare slowly walked outside, a single empty vial held in her magical grip. Small drops of liquid had gathered on the bottom.

"I... umm... I have no idea, honestly," he stammered slightly, but was quickly regaining his composure. It seems the dragon was well used to such outbursts, seldom they were.

"You were supposed to keep it off the stove. We needed that to ferment before I could work on the recipe any more. Why did you..." her tone had changed yet again. She wasn't frustrated, or even remotely angry. The mare sounded disappointed.

"Now wait right here before you get all "I'm not angry I'm just disappointed" on me."

They really are like siblings.

"I tucked it away on the windowsill. Maybe you should ask Owlowiscious if he managed to grab himself a shiny bottle last night, hmmm? Now, where did you find it."

"Discarded at near the trash bin.".

"Well, I haven't touched it then," the dragon crossed his arms and huffed.

Haystacks.

"I don't know who touched it, but this doesn't change the fact I had a base of a potion ready to ferment yesterday and now I'm left with a shoddy excuse for a clean bottle," she proceeded to shake the vial left and right a couple of times to make her point.

Macintosh managed to rather easily grab their attention by railing himself up and spreading his wings again, his posture expanding well enough to bathe almost half of the room in red. As soon as the two were done with their squabble, he tucked them in and coughed slightly, his eyes avoiding Twilight.

"Ah'm... Ah may had somethin' t'do with that, Miss Sparkle..."

"Ugh? What do you mean? You weren't here in a long while no—"

"At th'party, Miss Sparkle."

Something clicked in her mind. "But I locked the kitchen. Only Spike and I had the key."

"Miss Sparkle... 's was Pinkie who umm... forced me t'down this thing," he hesitantly pointed his hoof at the vial.

He could swear the gears in the mare's head were basically falling down upon themselves in a fiery inferno.

"And Pinkie got inside the kitchen how exactly?.

"Miss Sparkle..."

"Yes, Big Macintosh?"

"Pinkie Pie," he looked awkwardly at the ground.

"...you have a point," with that, the unicorn quickly turned around and went back into the room from which she came, dropping the subject quicker than he would make apples fall after a good buck. Spike, meanwhile, found himself busy packing her saddlebags with the book and the half-emptied vial. The dragon managed to notice Mac staring at him.

"Well, if you lived with her for as long as I did, you'd knew what this means," the little creature replied in a wry tone before picking up another book - this one much better preserved.

"Ah dun' get it," the stallion replied.

"You're going to Zecora's place, that's what. Twilight's been dabbling with alchemy barely enough for a week now, so if your little "malady" here is the cause of that, she'll probably take you to somepony more knowledgeable."

He knew Zecora from sight, and from his sister's tales. A zebra, creature he only read about in stories and ponytales. And she apparently lived right in Everfree forest, one of the few places he was truly afraid to venture into. As far as he recalled, the ponies of Ponyville had grown to accept the... could he even call her a mare? Yet, as much as he tried, he just couldn't find himself capable of... even looking at the creature. There was something alien, unknown about her. He wasn't sure if he could truly trust her - for all he had known, Applejack shrunk and Applebloom managed to brew almost three deadly concoctions so far.

And now he would have to go and personally visit the enchantress.

Haystacks.

__________________________________________________________

"I said don't move. Just one more tug, I'm sure you can handle it..." Twilight sparkle muttered as she focused her magical grip on a long strand of bandage material. It came from underneath Macintosh's belly, and was long enough to make at least two more turns around the stallion.

If he wanted to get rid of those wings, he would have to visit the zebra in Everfree. And this meant leaving the library's sheltered space. Of course he would do anything to hide his current condition, but without his sister's patchwork rug, concealing a pair of giant, feathered appendages proved more than a challenge. He was in luck however, for the unicorn magician hatched a simple plan quicker than he would even dread to think of such an idea.

So there he was, wrapped thick in innumerable layers of bandage. With a snap of last strand, Twilight levitated her own saddlebags over and gave the front door a good punt, letting the fresh air blow inside Books and Branches.

"We'll be back by sundown, try to keep this place in something remotely similar to order," she turned around already outside, smirking at her assistant.

"No worries Twilight. I'll try to wrap up your magical hurricane and that tidal wave as soon as I can. No need to worry, it'll just take mere minutes," his reply laced with sarcasm, dripping down almost visible holes to Big Mac's eyes.

With another slam of the door, he was more than sure there would be no turning back. The village before him was bathed in warm, afternoon sun. The morning hassle was long gone, replaced with a leisure atmosphere of everyday ponies either tending to their stable businesses or slowly trotting to and fro in their spare moments. Normally, he would notice Applejack's strand near the Sugarcube Corner, catching stray ponies in her clever merchant traps. She always made good business.

"Big Macintosh, are you coming? Ummm..." the mare looked at him with a somewhat worried expression, her voice quite clearly signalling she was unsure what to say.

"Ah'm sorry Miss Sparkle... on mah way."

"You don't need to apologize all the time."

"Ah'm.... so... eeyup," he decided to end the disaster of a statement with his trademark phrase.

By the time he caught up to his unicorn companion, the two were already entering Ponyville's square. Once more, Mac found himself assaulted by all sides. Strangers of all shapes and sizes would steer over to them and greet them, again, with a polite nod. Twilight Sparkle replied to each and every one of them, occasionally stopping or slowing down her pace to strike up a passing conversation about unreturned books or simply to give good advice.

The stallion remained quiet through most of the trip, only returning the salutations when necessary or politely bowing his head when asked of his own opinion on the subject matter. Still, the ponies stayed far enough from him, of which he was more than glad.

That is until a certain other, caramel-maned stallion crushed straight into Macintosh's chest. The red mountain took a slight step back, his bandages bumping up slightly with a barely audible rip. Thankfully, Twilight layered them enough to stop his frightful strength, at least for now.

"Agh, haystacks, Caramel! Watch where'ya goin'!" he spouted in the spur of the moment. He didn't mind the clumsy pony at all. In fact, whenever the other stallion would come to work at the farm, he would have a quality laughing time one way or another. Still, he pondered whether "being a ditz" was a viable cutie mark...

"Ah... ah I was just looking for you Mac! We're finished with the new recipe..." he slowly picked himself up from the ground, clopping down his front hooves slightly to shake off all the dirt from his coat.

"...and Granny Smith is good to go, but ummm... let's say there was a minor incident and our kitchen and the living room is in no state of use... Chance-A-Lot and Toffee are already working double to make up for all the damage, but we could use a spare set of hooves... umm.. think... umm... you could uh... help us a bit?" the lithe stallion started gushing, but his tempo dropped significantly as he approached the proposition. Mac couldn't do anything more than just raise an eyebrow.

"Ah guess I could, when's..." he stopped as the purple mare gently pushed herself against him, reminding him of just what mess he was in.

"Ah'm mighty sorry Caramel... Ah.. Ah've got some things to take care of fe' now... Ah guess Ah could help ya tomorrow or in th' comin' days. Eeyup," Mac finished with a slightly forced smile, closing his eyes for a brief moment.

"...pity. Still, I doubt we'll finish by tomorrow, so feel free to drop by any time you want. Oh.. and hello there Miss Sparkle," he replied nonchalantly, his eyes momentarily zoning out as they met with the mare's.

"Good day to you too, Caramel," Twilight simply smiled at the ditz.

"crud... I... I need to be somewhere fast right now this instant thank you for your time both of you goodbye Big Mac goodbye Miss Sparkle!" the small pony almost lost his breath while speaking rapidly like a waterfall. By the time the two managed to make sense of his squabble, he was already gone.

"...was it something I said?" the unicorn asked Mac obliviously.

"Eenope."

__________________________________________________________

The wall of wild, untamed trees stood before them, almost ready to mock the two ponies who would dare enter it. Strangely enough, in sharp contrast to the inhospitable wilderness stood a small wooden cottage. In fact, the whole little glade was a serene oasis compared to the lush right near it. Dozens upon dozens of small critters frolicked, minding their own business and not paying the slightest attention to the pair.

Mac was somehow relieved by this.

"That's strange..." Twilight's voice again pierced his musings.

"Fluttershy should be tending to the ducks... she doesn't leave her doors open like that. Big Macintosh, could you wait here for a second? I... I need to check up on her," the mare finished before galloping over the much-too-small bridge, disappearing inside the hut.

She's really worried...

Still, one way or another, he couldn't do anything. The little pegasus he had heard so much about was but yet another foreign pony to him. Of course, she would visit the farm time and time again, and he would catch glances of her pink mane. He did hear stories of her being a bit of a curiosity - timid, slow, completely unlike your average pegasus. Some even said she was a better earth pony than half of the town together.

Truthfully, that claim annoyed him.

Still, he stood right next to the dreadful Everfree. In a place filled with so much kindness he wouldn't expect it the least. Slowly moving closer to the little stream, Macintosh dropped himself, waiting for his partner to return from her search. A school of ducks managed to catch his attention. He was an earth pony himself, and as myth held true, he was more in touch with the so called "spirits" of the soil and animals than any other pony. Majority of the Apple family's success stemmed from that simple fact indeed. A normal unicorn or a pegasus would probably laugh in his face should he mention of "understanding the apple trees".

As he pondered his own kind, something wet splashed against his muzzle. One of the little ducklings swam much closer to him than any other animal otherwise would. As he realized what just happened, Mac noticed that much of the other stray animals gathered around him. Normally, he didn't have problems with all the different creatures, and approached them freely. Still, for them to do the reverse without any consent?

She... she made them like ponies? Just like that? Unbelievable.

"Big Macintosh? Oh..." Twilight stopped, peering at the distinct display of nature's little curiosities. Maybe not so little, in one case.

"...umm, Fluttershy is all right, I believe. In fact, we may even run into her in Everfree! Say goodbye to your new friends and let's get going," she finished the sentence already well on her way towards the dreaded lush.

Mac was, once again, dumbfounded. He rose, the little duckling desperately trying to get his attention visibly saddened.

"Ah, there there..." he tried to comfort the animal. Turning around, he trotted behind Twilight. For a brief second, his heart stopped pounding. That purple mare entered Everfree... just like that. She simply hopped over. For all he knew, a bear or a snake... or any other dangerous creature could jump her the very moment she put her hoof down in their territory.

And yet she continued on, paying his little tale no mind.

The red stallion followed her, realizing he was making a foal of himself at this rate.

...this unicorn... just... I don't know what to think.

One way or another, the two ponies now found themselves in a place much different the previous plain. Tall, dark trees gnarled at them with their twisted barks. The thick canopy obstructed most of the light, bathing the wildlife in sparse strands of yellow and white. He wasn't easily frightened, but he could swear strange shapes, globs of darkness, crept up on the corners of his vision. He would almost feel their breath at his neck. The bandages were still holding steadfast, thankfully. He, or rather, his wings would act on instinct, whenever he heard a crack or even any sound for good measure, they would try to unfurl themselves and rise him to safety.

Not with Twilight's hoofiwork.

In fact, the unicorn mare was trotting before him, her face up and... was she smiling? He tried to focus on her, at least to filter out the petrifying situation he had gotten himself into. Now, his mind solely locked on to the magician, he could hear she wasn't just eyeing the trees. In fact, she was muttering something most cheerfully.

" ... you gotta stand up tall, learn you face your fears.."

Is she... singing?!

"You'll see that they cannot hurt you, just laugh to make them disappear..."

He couldn't even try grasping what was happening. A normally collected Twilight Sparkle, someone he would always imagine spending her time buried in books and approaching everything with an emotionless analytical eye... was singing a foalish song, her hooves popping up and down from the ground to rhythm.

"Uhh... Miss Sparkle?"

She turned around, beaming at him like they had never left Ponyville.

"Yes, Big Macintosh? Anything wrong? How are your wings holding up?"

"Ah'm fine, Miss Sparkle. But... umm... what are ye singin'?" his question honest.

Twilight's coat took on a curious shade of red.

"Oh... this? This is just a little song a friend of mine thought me back when we first visited Everfree. I... I don't know, but it's really something, you know? At first I pretty much dismissed it as incredibly silly, but now I can't stop myself from musing it under my nose whenever I visit this forest," she turned her face away, giggling slightly.

"...eeyup, Ah understand."

"So..." she took a slightly deeper breath. Mac turned his head, rising an eyebrow. She gave him a single wink.

"Giggle at the ghostly, guffaw at the grossly, crack up at..." she didn't finish, merely drawing out the last vowel in a suggestive tone.

"...creepy?" he was unsure if he really wanted to go along with this.

"Whoop it up with the..."

"Weepy..."

"Chortle at th—" she would try forcing him one more time, but the mare was pleasantly interrupted by Macintosh unleashing his deep voice in a subdued manner.

"...at the kooky."

"Snortle at the spooky," the sang the last line in unison, the stallion lagging slightly behind as he picked up the words and quickly filled out the rest of the verse on his own.

__________________________________________________________

He still couldn't believe himself. In fact, the whole situation resembled a silly dream more than reality. Unfortunately, the lucidity had confirmed itself all too often for the poor stallion. What was a creditable fact was his presence in Everfree, happily trotting along Twilight Sparkle... talking.

As the mare finished chanting another of her friend's songs, this one about cupcakes, she moved on to a more modest topic. They would discuss how the weather ponies had little dominion over the forest or how sudden changes of humidity affected apple harvests in mid-summer. In these matters, he was the one leading the conversation. Though, occasionally, Twilight would lapse into her own little courses on magic theory.

Just as she wasn't absolutely silent on his weather analysis, neither was he on her inhibited arcane flux theorem.

Of course, he only had a passing knowledge of the subject matter. He supplied himself with advanced calculus, apparently used extensively by the unicorns in determining just the right amount of their energies to put into the spell matrix. Or how to weave the enchantment not to break their bones and the bones of everyone around in a five-block radius.

He felt strangely safe with her. This emotion caught his attention immediately.

She's... she's not Applejack. Yet, she feels like her. Not in that way, but similar.

He mused on that - for the longest time, Mac found himself enjoying presence of another pony. He was still worried about hurting her least he let his mind wonder. Even so, he would trust her in a sense he could not... or would not explain rationally. For a second, he could swear he had shared the feeling a long, forgotten time ago. Back in the day he was not so ridiculously huge and strong, and he could enjoy the presence of other ponies unhindered.

Twilight stopped her little lecture, planting her hooves firmly in the soil. Big Mac would soon follow. Their happy trot to Zecora's cottage has been, once more, interrupted. A strange, deep growl reverberated through the gnarled mess of trunks and branches.

"Miss Sparkle, do kindly stay back," he muttered, taking a step before the mare.

She replied with a quick flash of her horn.

"I can defend myself, thank you," she returned with a subtle smirk on her face.

Wary, the two ponies proceeded towards the ominous source of the disturbance. As they drew closer, the ghastly sounds took on a new meaning. Slowly, they managed to pick up words from the mysterious chant. After a few more steps, Macintosh peeked his head from behind a tree, the unicorn right by his side. A large cave, naturally fell in the mountain, loomed its dark mouth before them. Somepony... or something was inside, humming an infernal tune.

"Ah think 's not a good idea t'go inside, Miss Sparkle," yet before he could finish a strong tug of magic on his short tail pulled him back.

"Somepony's coming..." she uttered below her breath.

They both took shelter behind a large bush, clearing the leaves just enough to let them see.

Neither of them expected what would happen.

Slowly, a bright-pink mane was illuminated by the sparse Everfree light as she came into view. A small, fragile yellow pegasus, three butterflies for a cutie mark. She wore a linen necklace, two vials - one red, one blue, corked, dangled carelessly, occasionally bouncing against one another. Mac's mind was severely wounded by what had just transpired. A stallion, as big and powerful as himself, was deathly afraid of entering the forest. And this little mare, almost a foal in his eyes, was hopping light-heartedly from inside a cave painted in all shades of death.

...and speaking in the deepest baritone Macintosh had ever heard on this side of Canterlot.

"'s that yer friend, Miss Sparkle?" the stallion spoke softly, trying his best to remain unnoticed.

"Yes, we should show ourselves... try not to startle her, the effects can be... severe," she replied meekly.

How severe can a little yellow filly be?

He would oblige. With a slow nudge, he tried to back down from the bush, and slowly approach the stallion-voiced mare from behind the tree nonchalantly. As luck would have it, Twilight shared his plan and the two bumped to each other. Her lithe body was no match for his large frame, and the two tumbled inside the bush causing the leaves aflutter.

"Who's there?! S...show yourselves!!"

Mac could only see a brief flash of light as the unicorn bailed out of the situation. Still, his mind failed to register the sensation completely. His whole frame became stiff. It was unlike anything he had experienced before. Somepony made a demand, an absolute directive. And neither his mind nor his body would deviate from the given task. Enthralled, he stepped outside the bush, his gigantic frame leaving the mess of flora inch by inch.

And Fluttershy's mouth opened itself wider and wider.

Another flash of purple light signalled Twilight leaving her magical slipstream.

"Shhh, it's just me Fluttershy!" she began immediately in her usual tone, trying her best not to cause any more fright to the little creature.

"Wha--wahha---aaah... Twilight! My... my you almost startled me."

She tried her best. She really did. As much as she willed her mouth shut, a laugh escaped her, soon causing the unicorn to fall and roll around. This pierced Mac's daze, slinging his mind back where it belonged.

...the hay just happened?!

"Oh... ummm, yes..." the pegasus was quick to mutter to himself, before pulling over the red vial and taking a small sip. She shivered as the liquid forced itself down her throat, but was quick to reassure her stance.

"I'm... I'm sorry for using my Stare at you and..." her response came in her usual timid, meek and quiet voice. Mac's eyes were fully opened by now, gazing into the little menace of a pony.

"...and Big Macintosh...eepehm... umghgm... ummm... I... good evening," she tried her best to cover the entirety of her face with her bright-pink mane, to no avail.

"Eeeyup, howdy," the stallion replied calmly, though one could still feel the hint of stress running through his throat.

Twilight was blissfully unaware, slowly recovering from her laughing fit.

"D--don't tell me you're drinking poison joke extract.. hehe..." the unicorn finally stood up.

"Ummm... I.. ah... I do, but it's not for me, no, no!" Fluttershy was quick to protest, shaking her head left and right as the vials resounded against one another.

"You see ah... ummm... it's Henry."

Who's Henry?

"Isn't he a lie?"

"He... used to be, but then I really met a bear."

...a what?!

"...is this the same one you...?"

"...umm... yes."

"And now you're doing what exactly to him?"

"Singing lullabies, of course," she was proud to remark.

A little, timid pegasus mare, almost deathly scared of her own shadow.

Was singing lullabies.

To a bloody bear!?

"He's... he's barely out of... ummm... cub-hood. His mother is away so he started visiting my cottage more often, and I can't let him linger around the other critters, he might accidentally stomp one of the ducklings or swash a birdie... So I usually take him back to his home cave and sing him to sleep... but he was becoming restless and my usual voice couldn't cut it any more..."

Strange as it was, the little filly found more of breath in her underdeveloped lungs than Mac thought was physically possible.

"...so I asked Zecora to brew me an extract from the poison joke. I... I don't like this voice but Henry seems to think of his mother when I sing to him like that, so..." her eyes trailed into the dirt as she took a single step back, looking left and right as if trying to escape from an invisible foe.

"heh... It's fine, Fluttershy. You're just caring for another animal, yes? Glad you're not changing in that field at least. Mayor Mare says you're doing an invaluable favour to the whole town; without you we'd have to have the Guard patrol the border and maybe even scare the stray creatures awa—"

"Scaring little creatures? Oh... oh no that's not going to work! You know some of them tend to become very... very nasty and moody when you try to scare them! You need to be extremely gentle, especially with the rattlesna—"

"I. Know. Calm down now, Fluttershy. We're going to visit Zecora, you feel like walking with us?" Twilight finally got her say in.

"I... umm... I guess... if you don't mind me walking with you that is ummm..." she began stammering like she had swallowed the said bear.

"Of course we don't! Right, Big Mac?" the unicorn smiled at her mare friend before looking at the red mountain of a stallion.

Who stood there, eyes still wide and mouth slightly opened.

"Ee...eyup."

Just what did I just watch? She's a pegasus. She's scared of her own shadow. She can't even hold a conversation straight (hypocrite!) and she seems to be on the border of fainting right here and now. And now you're asking me to believe she's singing haystacking lullabies to a bear who could rip me apart easily, let alone that little filly. Just what is she?

__________________________________________________________

The three ponies walked in silence, the relative quiet pierced now and again by Twilight's insightful question or a similar remark. The little pegasus barely spoke, only taking enough trouble to add something to the other mare's deduction or correct her on a bad assumption regarding the wildlife.

Mac himself kept to the back, letting the two other ponies serve as his guides in this gloomy forest. In fact, he had paid less and less attention to the surrounding lush as his mind trashed upon itself in efforts to figure out just what he had encountered. His eyes were firmly stuck on Fluttershy, investigating her with mathematical precision.

To his eyes, she was just... simple. Her pink, bushy tail heaved left and right as she walked, and she would occasionally flare her wings up in an expression and immediately tuck them back in. As she did, Mac's own pair would rustle beneath the wrapped bandage. It had been hours since he last gave them a good swing. The itching was slowly becoming nigh-unbearable.

...but how? I'm an earth pony. I can talk to apples, sort of. I understand exactly what the trees need of me. Yet here, I can't even hear the ground. Or rather, I can, and it's screaming at me.

How is a pegasus coping better than me?! She can't even speak the language. But the animals understand her... better than they understand me.

Mac stopped for a second, analysing just what exactly had passed his mind. It was a first, that's for sure. In all his days, he would never... would it be called envy? All the ponies he had met, he ended the relationship on a positive note. True, he was slightly prejudiced against the unicorns and the pegasi, but he had overcame that hindrance. Everypony had a place in the society - his kind would tend to the soil, the winged ones would run the clouds and the magical kin would keep the whole world stable.

But this yellow mare stripped his ideology. She would violently rip it from his mind and stomp it down with glee on her face.

Mac breathed somewhat loudly through his nostrils in frustration. He was conflicted like never before.

"...umm... something wrong... eh... Big Macintosh?" the subject of his musings turned around, looking at him with a worried glance. He had to quickly put on his best poker face before she would notice anything out of place.

"Eeenope. Mighty thank'ye for yer concern, Miss Fluttershy."

As soon as her attention turned elsewhere, Mac once again shook his head. He was furious. He had no idea how she managed to read him. She wasn't even paying attention to the stallion. Yet, she was able to pick up his subtle gesture faster than Applejack would ever read his face.

She was like an earth pony locked in the body of a pegasus, possessing the best of both worlds.

And this fact, this subtle abuse of the social ladder was slowly proving to be more for the red pony to bare.

"Oooh---oh! Is that Heart's Desire?" Twilight's exuberant shriek broke both ponies out of their silence.

"Ummm... yes... yes it is. What is so interesting about it, Twi... that is... if you don't mind telling us..." Fluttershy replied meekly.

"Zecora left me some notes in that last batch of plants I borrowed for my experiments. This is a rare plant, and very potent. I need to get my hooves on some samples. Oh, this is just what I need!" she quickly deviated from their course, galloping over to the large patch of red flowers.

"Don't mind me! Rest up while I pick a few!" she only managed to shout as she turned her head mid-dash.

And like that, the red behemoth was stranded alone with the smallest yellow mare he had ever seen.

They stood in absolute stillness for a good minute. Mac was almost capable of hearing her every heartbeat between the occasional rustle of leaves and sounds of wildlife. He was more than sure she could hear his. To somepony like him, little signs such as these meant so much. To his mind, talking really was overrated - subtle body language and facial expressions are more than enough to convey a message.

...let's see just how good an earth pony you are, miss...

He gently swayed to his side and rose his hind hoof before putting it against the ground. This would normally mean his legs are tired and he would request some place to lie down for a moment. Such base instincts and movements were beyond the scope of a complex code - beauty in simplicity.

The mare gently moved her tail to her sides, her head bobbed up and down slightly as her eyes focused no where in particular. She agreed, and even suggested he would rest under the large, hollow tree before them.

Impossible!

A single moment taken too long was worth more than an entire month of a sonorous discussion. And he was about to waste it. Trying not to betray his stoic demeanour, he accepted her idea with another bob and walked over, resting himself against the tree. As soon as he moved himself before the mare, she coyed her head away from him and beamed the tiniest of smiles. For Mac, it was more than a firework display, even though he was unsure how to interpret that.

Was she mocking him? Is she laughing?

It had to be something different. Just as quickly as the two started "conversing", Fluttershy became... unreadable. Her movement was neutral, and she betrayed naught emotion outside her standard array. She trotted over to Mac, avoiding looking at him. Whatever was her plan, she was enjoying it.

Anger overtook him. His hoof scarred the earth, giving a solid buck to the large tree behind him. This fetched a quick reaction from the pegasus as she jumped up and landed, looking around frantically before finally setting her gaze on the red stallion.

"Ah'm sorry, cramped leg," he cooed.

She gently trotted over, smiling at him without any hint of deception. "It's fine. Should I take a look, I can massage it if you want... umm... that is... if you don't mind."

It finally hit him.

She's not mocking me. She's... she likes talking like that! She was enjoying it!

"Ah... Ah..." He was shocked, frankly. For the first time outside of his family, he felt a mare enjoy his presence, or so he thought. Twilight was a similar case, indeed, but she acted on virtue of helping him with his untimely problem. Fluttershy, on the other hand, seemed similar to him. Eerily similar. In fact, he would compare them to a mirror reflection, twisted and turned.

She was a pegasus who was a better earth pony than he used to be.

He was an earth pony who was a worse pegasus than she is.

On second thought, they weren't all that similar, at least in those mat—

His leg jerked back immediately as he felt a warm hoof skin along his coat.

Still, his reflex was cut short by another strange, orderly voice - "Please stop."

"...my, you're so tense. No wonder you had trouble walking..."

She was correct, though the reasons for his muscles clenching up like that were all the different.

"...I knew you were... umm... big, Big Macintosh, but... I can't reach around your flank like that... ummm... could you turn around?" she gently prodded his side.

"Ah... Miss Fluttershy, ya... ya don't really need'ta."

She stopped that very moment, slowly sitting down near him instead, her face discouraged.

"ah... umm... alright. I didn't mean to be off—"

"Ya weren't Miss Fluttershy. 's all right."

He questioned what had just happened. Applejack would often help him against his will, and even hammer her reasons for her aid into his head nearly with a hammer. But... that pegasus was a stranger, not knowing him more than from second-hoof impressions. And yet, she did not hesitate a bit to help him with his apparent problem. Such behaviour puzzled him - ponies were usually trusted, but... you can easily burn yourself by extending that trust too much.

Why?

He shook his head gently, looking at the mare. She was right beside him, peeking intently at Twilight picking the Heart's Desire to her... heart's content. With another signature sigh, he looked up to peer through the thick canopy. Maybe he could see the sun and see what time it is? The idea of visiting that zebra by night was all more dreadful.

Instead of the brightest star, something else caught his attention. A small splinter almost fell into his eye just before he managed to close it. Peering up again, Mac noticed a large, thick branch slowly breaking off the hollow tree. The crack travelled downwards, marking the unstable area larger and larger. Soon enough, a good half of the tree was ready to fall on the pair of ponies.

Hay. Stacks.

Crack.

The large mass of rotten wood was already falling, he had noticed it too late. There was little time to get away, lest they both suffer injuries. Then again, it was just wood. If what had happened yesterday was true, and Berry's new neighbourhood was an undeniable proof, he could just well take the blow for the pegasus mare. Still, it looked rather sharp.

No helping that.

Before Fluttershy could even look up and notice what was headed her way, Macintosh quickly jumped up and forcefully covered her entire body with his. She immediately went limp, as if he was about to commit some heinous act. In fact, to a bystander, it wouldn't look too different. The red stallion was straining his face, his eyes closed and his teeth glaring. The bandages were done with most amazing expertise. Still, he was stronger.

She couldn't even begin to comprehend what he was doing above her. That is, until she noticed a ferocious... hand of gnarled bark, almost twice as big as herself, heading at them from high above. Big Macintosh did not suddenly go crazy - he was trying to shield her... with his own body. She still could not fully understand his frustrated face. Was he bracing for impact?

A second satisfying sound of ripping material announced the beginning of the show. Quickly, two large bodies of feathers spread themselves from the sides of Mac's back. Stray red quills danced in the updraft as he spread his humongous wings, almost as big as himself, to his sides. Fluttershy's mind became slow, and with each passing moment she understood less and less. Bandages and red feathers floated all around them, and she swore she was dreaming.

Mac, for a moment, had the most annoyed and gruelling expression painted on his face.

Smack.

Splinters of rotten wood were sent flying in all directions, large portions of the hollow tree dropping down, broken into smaller pieces, from the stallion's back.

A bright flash to their side declared somepony's sudden arrival. "What happened?!"

Neither of them responded. Fluttershy was still on her back, turning into the same red hue as her saviour. Mac, on the other hand, flapped his wings a couple of times, letting the last pieces of hollowed grove fall unto the ground. He gently tucked the larger parts away with his hooves, making as much space for the mare to pick herself up.

He stepped back, however, he did not hide his wings, instead opting to leave them half-spread over his sides to catch in the refreshing air. He looked at the yellow pegasus with a worried glance, once again engaging in their own form of conversation.

No response.

Her breathing was becoming rapid, as if she had seen a monster. Her eyes ran across Mac's imposing frame, registering his new appendages with fright and amazement.

"...ah," she only managed to whisper before she closed her eyes, her head hitting the soft ground.

Gentle Flutter

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Chapter VI

She dug her head deep in her fluffy pillow. The sun was still down, or so she had thought. All of the animals were mostly asleep, and Angel would remain that way longer than any other of her little friends. As usual. Still, she had some time before the feeding hour came, and seeing just how exhausting her previous day had been, she would enjoy every last ounce of it. She snuggled her warm blanket, wrapping it around her slender frame, efficiently turning her into something of a pony-sized cocoon.

Sometimes, her mind would wander into unknown territories. She pondered being born something different but a pony - a squirrel, maybe? Those have a simple life, and nuts don't taste too bad. Or maybe a tree? No, that's too... tree-y. Finally, her still drowsy thoughts settled on a butterfly. The most gentle and charming creature.

As much as her consciousness was still deeply immersed in her personal dreamlands, her body had slowly started waking up. Soon, her legs started trotting in the air and her front hooves caressed her pillow tenderly.

"Ooh... no, no mister Hoofflebump. You don't eat that. That's for the swallows. Hmm... ah..." she began conversing with an imaginary critter. Without proper coordination, her absent-minded mutter stopped in short order, her mouth now full of the fluffy pillow.

"Ahumm... Miss Sparkle... a'lil help 'ere?"

Her eyes wrung themselves open in a frightful gaze. The drastic shock of reality hit her harder than a falling Rainbow Dash. She wasn't in her home, and it wasn't early morning. There were no critters to tend to, and Angel was probably already turning her little kitchen into a battlefield.

She was riding Big Macintosh's broad back, her hind legs wrapped in his deep-red coat and her head enfolded, mouth nibbling on the light orange mane. Her startled gaze met with Twilight's most confused look. After a slightly too long awkward silence, she felt the muscles underneath her shift. Finally, the red stallion had turned his head over, looking with worry at the mare.

Worry and slight befuddlement.

Without saying a word, Fluttershy opened her mouth and let the strands of hair fall down before backing away clumsily from Macintosh's neck. Her tail, however, gently brushed itself off against something fluffy. She whirled her sight over, noticing a large wing extending itself from his shoulder. Only then the pegasus remembered what exactly had happened before. She only managed to let out a faint "meep" before, again, dropping flat on his back.

__________________________________________________________

Mac walked slowly, making sure the sleeping figure wouldn't slip from his back. It was easier now, as he was capable of covering his sides entirely with his wings, forming something akin to a living carriage. Nevertheless, the sullenness prompted his mind to think. What he had hoped to keep a secret, revealed only to a selected few, escaped his mouth's grasp faster than a fleeting chicken. He wasn't sure if it was just the mare's innate meekness or...

Am I really such a monster?

He questioned himself. So far, he would consider two contrasting opinions. On one hoof, he knew earth ponies don't suddenly grow wings. He was an abomination to his own eyes, and quite frankly, to the whole of his species. Fluttershy's reaction had been an iron testament to that. On the other hoof, however, he remembered Applebloom's reactions. She was little, most certainly too naive to tell right from wrong in this situation. Yet Granny Smith, in her venerable wisdom, had once told him that foals, while still being foals, each hold a grain of truth more valuable than an entire orchard in the middle of the Applebucking Season. A second good reason walked right beside him. Twilight had proven herself time and time again more apt at handling the situation than he would give her credit for. Aside from a slight slip when he had forgotten himself in the library, she was most fascinated with the two new growths on his back.

In the middle of the conflict stood Applejack. He had always been able to connect with his younger sister on a fundamental level. Hay, the two could well enough converse without words be the need. She would see right through him, and he would return the favour. Only his most treasured secrets held against her unrelenting assault of questions and interrogations. But, since recently, he just couldn't read her any more. She seemed somewhat distant, as if she was unsure of her own actions in this ploy of things.

That's just stupid. Forget this, get to the hut and talk with that crazy zebra.

Then there was the zebra. He couldn't quite place his fright. All in all, he realized well enough just how utterly ridiculous his reaction was. She was, as far as he would assume, a normal earth pony, just like him. That is, like him if he had been born in far away lands, was black and white and spoke in a strange dialect, living in the middle of a Celestia-forsaken backwood practising enchantments and other vile arts all day and night long. He knew that she was, at least for majority of her time, harmless. The citizenry of Ponyville grew to accept the odd sheep into their flock. Indeed, he had almost encountered the creature on Nightmare Night. The three fillies in his cart were most unpleasantly surprised when he had turned around almost instantly, sending the trio flying face-first into a basin of apple-hunting game.

But the simple fact she preferred to inhabit Everfree to a town would fuel his mind with just enough theories and frights to keep even a stallion such as himself afraid. For all he knew, she could still be dangerous. Harm doesn't come in just physical flavours. Were he to have his say in the household, he would absolutely forbid little Applebloom from visiting the witch. She was a bad influence.

"Mac, do you think we could... wake her up? I think you owe her some explanation. In fact, we both do," Twilight interrupted his inner monologue.

"Oh... Ah... Ah guess. Think ye can do it?" he looked at the unicorn with concern. If anything, him waking up the pegasus would most probably only lapse her back into a coma.

"I have an idea. Settle her down under that tree and hide somewhere. I'll try to talk her into what happened and... well, let's just don't reveal your new additions too fast to her," she smiled at the last word, filling Mac with hauteur.

The stallion went to great lengths to slide the little pegasus off his back. The two ponies had picked a rather solitary grove, shaped in a semi-circle of lush bushes hiding away a small glade of flowers underneath a large tree. Strangely enough, this was the only area he had seen in a long while that had a clear view of the sky. Glancing up, only a dull scarlet glow graced his eyes. Celestia was in the process of hiding the sun. Soon, Luna would take her charge and rule the world for the rest of the natural day. He felt something on his flank.

Turning around, he noticed a large purple mist of energy prodding him. Twilight's horn was sharing the same glow, her face twisted in irritation. Go on, get out already, he could practically hear her think. Mac bucked the apparition, dispelling it swiftly - he only felt a slight opposing force before the spell broke down into sparkles. He flapped his half-tucked wings once, breathing out audibly through his nose.

Twilight was tapping her hoof by this point.

It proved far too easy to hide himself in the thick briar. Remaining stealthed, however, turned out to be quite a challenge. He never had trouble remaining calm and quiet. All in all, some ponies in town passed jokes that being silent was the real meaning of his cutie mark, or so had Applejack claimed. The feathered appendages, however, he was unused to - slowly, he began to realize how it felt to be a pegasus himself. They were always too active and expressive. Even such shy ones as little Fluttershy. He could read them with exceptional ease, unless they would actively try to mask their intentions before him. He would pick out the subterfuge no bother.

He tried his best to keep them stationary, but as soon as the unicorn began waking the yellow mare up, they would bob up and down, spread themselves to the sides or cover on his back. He was gesticulating with them, to say the least. He would sometimes let his ears do the talking, especially when he was thinking deeply about something, alone.

Needless to say, a pair of wings is slightly more unwieldy to hide than pony ears.

The purple unicorn prodded Fluttershy with her horn, a quick spark jumping from its tip straight between the sleepy pony's eyes. She wriggled in spot, slowly ascending from the depths of her sleep.

"Hey... Fluttershy, wake up. Can you hear me, Fluttershy?" the unicorn spoke softly.

The pegasus murmured something, alas it was much too difficult to discern its meaning.

"Five more minutes" is not a good excuse at the farm, you filly!

"Come on, Fluttershy. Hey, wake up," Twilight had finally used her hoof, gently touching her friend on her shoulder. The other mare's immediate response was a slight push of her wing, and another murmur.

"...Angel is hungry..." the unicorn deadpanned.

Fluttershy's eyes stood ajar in a flash. "Wha-wh?! I overslept again? Oh dear..." she yelped as she took in the surroundings.

"Sorry I lied. You wouldn't wake up," the unicorn traced her hoof against the ground.

"Oh... oh it's nothing Twi! Thank you, I spent too much time asleep anyway umm... where's Henry? Last thing I remember... umm... that is..." she opened her mouth slightly, putting a hoof to her chin in thought.

"Henry is fine."

"Wh... where's Big Macintosh? That is... if it's not anything..." she stammered, clearly worried about the stallion. He picked up the lace of anxiety in her voice immediately.

...why is she so concerned about me?

Twilight began to look at the pegasus, trying force a focus on herself to explain the situation. "Ah yes, about him, you see... there's this tiny little problem and I'm sure you'll understand, but it's better if you try to tak—"

"He doesn't even know how to fly! And they're so delicate! I mean... he's big and strong and... all... but he can easily break his wings in half if he doesn't take care of them right!" Fluttershy interrupted her horned friend mid-sentence.

Twilight's jaw dropped.

A pair of red wings jutted from the nearby bush, sending old leaves into the air.

...

Mac's mind was absolutely blank

"My! Get out of this bush, you'll scratch yourself!" she flared her own pair, gracefully gliding over to his hiding place. She didn't touch down, instead opting to float slightly above the soil. Unable to gather his thoughts into anything resembling form or matter, he simply moved out of the greenery. Sounds of twigs and wrapped vines snapping accompanied his emergence.

"Oh, no no nonono..." Fluttershy began shaking her head, floating over to his side. Using her hoof, she carefully untangled the few trails still in his coat. "You're not only hurting yourself but the flowers too! They could have bloomed later this season."

...

"Oh my oh my... look at those. Where did you get this mess into them?" he felt a soft touch over his right wing. "Is that... ointment? You don't apply that like that, silly. Your feathers are stuck together now."

...what is she doing?

"You're missing a few... oh, so typical. I remember the time when I was molting excessively... hehe..." she let out a chuckle.

...miss Twilight?

His sights wondered through the grove, spotting the unicorn mare sitting on her flank. In place of her bedazzlement now stood a sly grin. Without a doubt she had seen the pegasus in a similar state before.

And she wouldn't spoil Fluttershy the fun.

“There, all done now. Please, could you flap it?” the pegasus' timid voice forced him to focus on the matter at hand. He gave his right wing a gentle push, spreading and retracting it from the air.

It felt amazing.

He never had a chance to examine his new “legs” with a calm mind. Either he was afraid of them or somepony else was pestering him with an uprooted house. He couldn't stop himself, instinctively giving it yet another thrust. If he could compare the sensation to another, it would be close to a cold gulp of apple juice after a hard and tiresome day with the plough.

His eyes opened as Mac realized what had just crossed his mind. He started trashing his head left and right, trying to banish the incorrect thoughts.

“Oh... oh, please don't... did I do something wrong? Ummm...” the pegasus mare dropped down on the ground, cowering as if she drove a train over Big Mac's leg or something entirely more horrendous.

The crimson leviathan stopped as soon as, somehow, her voice reached his ears. Settling down, he slightly lowered his head.

I'm so miserable.

“I... I'm sorry if I... umm.. that is...”

“'s fine, Miss Fluttershy.”

“Aumm... tha... if you say so...” she finished.

Twilight only watched as the two ponies stood side by side, avoiding each other's gaze. Mac's wings were still half-spread, though they were angled closer towards the ground. Fluttershy, meanwhile, was scraping against the soft grass with her hoof, barely even bending a stem.

“Emm... Miss Fluttershy,” Macintosh was first to break the silence.

“...ymm... yes?”

“Would ya... ummm...”

“Of course, that is... if you...”

“Eeenope.”

“...sure.”

The unicorn couldn't even begin to comprehend – just a minute ago it seemed the two were ready to gallop away from each other to the other side of the globe. Now, Fluttershy was, although reluctantly, tending to his other wing with almost as much glee as she did before. They didn't even speak so much as they turned their heads and blinked at each other a few times.

“Just a little bit more away... if you don't mind... ah, just like that.”

Soon enough, she could hear another flap from the general direction of the two ponies.

“Miss Fluttershy, Ah'm mighty thankful for ye... ehm...” he tried to express his gratitude, somehow.

“...it's nothing, really. Sometimes the birdies fall into mud and I simply have to remove all the dirt like that,” she beamed at him.

Fluttershy beamed at Macintosh. She never even smiled at other ponies during their first meeting. When Twilight had first met the pegasus, she was on verge of breaking down emotionally just after she had asked her for her name.

Big Mac, on the other side of the little scene, shared similar questions.

I don't even know her. She does know well enough I'm an earth pony. Why is she helping me?

“Umm... not that I mean offence... but uhhh... I noticed you were... flapping your wings... well... wrong,” Fluttershy said as she rested her hoof against his still half-spread appendages.

“Ah... Ah wouldn't know. Ah never, umm... y'know,” he tried to reply, though he faced tremendous problems with stringing together words not to offend the mare.

“It's... not hard, really. I mean, we have flights schools at Cloudsdale... amm... I could, you know...”

“That'd 'e mighty fine, Miss Fluttershy, but Ah thi—”

Finally, the unicorn picked herself up from the grass, shaking herself slightly to clear all the dirt from her belly – the little pegasus' cleaning ritual took long enough for her to lie down comfortably for a while.

“I think that's... well, I'm sure you could teach Big Macintosh sometime else, Fluttershy. It's getting dark, and we are in the middle of Everfree. We should hurry to Zecora's place.”

Twilight's words bore logic and meaning. The two ponies looked each other in the eye before, in synch, looking up at the night sky. Stars were slowly becoming visible as a faint aura of golden-red retreated itself from the west.

...we wasted so much time.

Another glance at each other confirmed just how similar their mind had worked. To Twilight's amusement, the two looked quickly away from each other, again, in perfect harmony.

She chuckled.

__________________________________________________________

The rest of the way turned out much less eventful. Twilight was leading the one-and-a-half pegasi down the familiar road. To the unaided and unfamiliar eye, it was a path like any other. The unicorn, however, trotted down it many a time. Subtle signs such as little carvings, a small idol or a tiny mask near the bush, on the branch or right on the bark marked the correct way to Zecora's dwelling.

Normally, the red stallion's mind would be running wild, him being so close to the object of his prejudice and fear. As luck would have it, he had managed to find himself a work of sorts. In fact, one could say work had found him. Not soon after the trio embarked on their continued journey, Fluttershy suggested a little activity for Big Macintosh. All the way, she had been most focused on his wings. It was a different sort of fascination - Twilight gazed at them with an analytical mind. She would wish to discern what had happened to the stallion, to learn the arcane and alchemical formulas and replicate or alter the effect.

The yellow pony instead eyed them with warmth. She studied the way Mac moved around, his feathers swaying half-spread. She took in every single twitch, every gesture. He could feel her eyes upon himself, but was unable to grab their intent. Still, she unnerved him. Much less than before, so much was granted, but the strain had remained. She showed him such kindness and such care, even though he was a stranger and a freak of nature. This reminded him of a similar pony in his life. Somepony who would not turn him down even after he outgrew her almost twice over.

Mother, I miss you and dad.

Slowly, pieces fell into place and gears started turning. He was sure, more than certain his whole life, that all the ponies are, in fact, much different. One could not compare unicorns to earth ponies, and the latter certainly are unlike the pegasi. Each of the species had their own customs, their beliefs and their history. It began as stories from his father, and only grew after the earth stallion's passing with Mac taking interest in pre-Equestrian history.

But... this creature next to him defied everything he had learned, everything his father passed down. What if there were more ponies like her? Was his father...

"Umm... Big Macintosh?"

...wrong? Possibly. No pony is perfect.

"Eeeyup, sugarcube?" he drawled to the filly.

...did I just call her "sugarcube"?

"Ummm... I noticed your wings are... well, you don't work them correctly... maybe.. maybe I could help... if you don't mind, that is..."

He had wounded her once already, and he wouldn't do it again.

"Ah'll be glad, sugarcube," he smiled. At first, he had been sure it would take much effort to mimic such face. It came out naturally, to his great surprise.

On that moment, Fluttershy had floated unto his back and spread her wings.

Since then, the two had been practicing flaps and strokes. He didn't plan on flying - he was awful at it. That single instance a night ago proved his point. That, and a large dent in the wall of their house. Still, that had given his mind the rest it needed so much. He would focus on each swing, perfect it almost to an art form. He could feel his muscles tense and relax, and he would analyse each motion. Every time the mare called a mistake, he would try again and correct it. Was it too rapid? He lengthened it. Was the flap too short? He would spread them further. Was it too weak? His next beat would contain all of his strength.

He had startled Fluttershy immensely as he had almost managed to take off.

It didn't them too long for the pair to synchronize once more. Soon enough, they would flap their wings in unison, with Mac adjusting his own strength and speed to match her motions. All in all, he was enjoying those little spare lessons. There was something hidden deep within him, a strange notion he had been quelling since the two limbs sprung from his back. He knew how to move them, but the fact his flight was missing left him puzzled. He was an earth pony, a darn good one at that. He had silenced his thoughts on the subject.

But now, they resurfaced. There was no hiding it - he felt embarrassed of himself, of all ponies, for not knowing how to properly propel himself in the air. Maybe it was his slight need to strive for perfection or just the long tradition of evening out everything one does at the farm. Still, it shamed him to a degree. Why was he angry at himself? He was never meant for flight...

...but it's a waste to let anything, well... go to waste like that.

Should he ask the mare for more lessons? That would essentially mean betraying his nature. But, were he to deny them, he would betray himself more so. His choice was similar to many ancient Pterrippi tragedies he had read as yet another hobby. Either way, he was on the losing ground, and the battle would end in mental bloodshed.

"We're here!" Twilight signaled.

Fluttershy left his back immediately, hovering before his head. "Oh my, she surely redecorated. Pinkie would be in heaven!"

Before the trio of ponies expanded a glade. Many exotic trees lined the border between the relatively empty grass and the lush of Everfree itself. A single large tree stood in the centre, it's crown towering over the other flora. Many branches of were filled with holes, covered in foreign glass. Still, majority of the housing seemed to be focused on the ground, with the higher windows probably connected to the ground floor with stairs if anything. Outside the majestic tree was a small garden, arranged in a semi-circle twisting behind the main dwelling. Plants and herbs of most exotic origins rested underneath the subtle moonlight. A few luminous examples shed their own glow, tiny specks of pollen dancing on the gentle wind.

All in all, the most defining trait of the whole area was it's aesthetic. The grass was turning into slight yellow, definitely shorter and rougher than that of the rest of the forest. The zebra had put a frightening display of masks and bottles, all of them scattered in apparent chaos on the ground or hanged with linens from branches big and small. Some of the concoctions beamed faint light, while others remain inept. Some glasses were even empty, though Mac could not fathom why. The wood-carved masks menaced with grimaces and grins of all sorts. They were adorned with feathers and sigils he could not recognize. Applejack had told him they all meant for greetings and hopes of good fortune. He found that hard to believe.

Upon closer inspection, an eerie green glow emanated from the lowest windows, and a thick mist spewed forth from the unhinged, circular door. These themselves were adorned with a thick black symbol, swirling into a spiral with small triangles placed around it at regular intervals.

His mind jumped back to the rear end of his skull. Were it not for the two mares before him, he would gladly turn around and gallop straight back to the farm. His wings had no qualms in revealing those intentions, as they began flapping angrily up and down much to Fluttershy's surprise.

"Everything will be all right," she nodded, slowly turning her neck to face the stallion. She gave him a reassuring smile.

"Well, I'll go see if Zecora isin't practising her pole tricks or meditation. It'd be rude to have her interrupted as the last time...",Twilight barely managed to finish before, after a slight glow of her horn, she blinked away from them, appearing right underneath the door. From the distance, Mac saw he gently sneaking her head inside, followed by the rest of her body.

"...you really don't need to be afraid. Zecora is a good zebra. I'm sure she'll help you," Fluttershy once again spoke, though his trembling wings gave away the poor integrity of the stallion.

"Ah... Ah know, 's just..." Their roles have been swapped. He was the stammering little colt, whereas the pegasus had retained her cold, or rather, warmth. She spread her wings, floating over to his face, gently prodding the tip of his muzzle with her hoof, smiling.

"Hush now, quiet now..." she began in a melodious voice...

Haze of Chalk and Onyx Dust

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Chapter VII

He could easily listen to the melodic voice forever. This honestly drove the stallion into confusion - the filly, no, the mare before him reminded him of another pony more than he would find comfortable. Years ago, when he was just a young colt, the only Apple child at the time, his mother would sing him to sleep. He could still remember the lyrics, as he would occasionally lull himself with the well-known verse. Silently, recited but in his mind. Not even Applejack suspected him of this little secret. As soon as she came to the world, Mac had learned enough words to share their mother's duties. They both stopped listening to lullabies some time after Mac had reached relative maturity. When little Applebloom was born, it was her older sister's turn to practise her voice; he himself had been too busy with farm work alongside his father.

Childhood memories meant much for him.

On the outside, Big Macintosh stood idly, his eyes half-closed even more so than usual. His body had gone limp, though his thick red coat concealed such state. What it couldn't conceal were his wings - loose, sprawled around the soft, wild grass. His ears would sometimes jerk up and down, reacting to the subtle changes in Fluttershy's voice. His innate accuracy would pick them all up, enhancing the simplistic melody.

His mind was too busy enjoying the serenade to care about his surroundings. For a short time, the worries about the zebra, the forest and his own pair of wings simply ceased.

Something warm prodded his side, a rather large something, in fact. His body was slow to react, however, still dazed and relaxed from his short lapse into a better place. Mac slowly lowered his head, breathing in and out slowly. He spotted something pink near his left side. He could feel her breath against his coat. The silly mare had managed to sing herself to sleep.

Should I wake her up? I can't really move otherwise. Unless I suddenly grow a horn as well, that is.

As gently as he could, Mac shuddered left and right. Her reaction was immediate - a soft and silent muffled groan. The warmth receded off his body as the pegasus mare began to support her own weight.

"...ah...umm..." she shook her head. "Are you... feeling better now, Big Macintosh?"

For once, since a long time, he beamed her a most vibrant smile.

"Ah sure am, sugarcube."

Fluttershy covered right away, her hair concealing her expression. Of course, sight was not necessary at such close distances. He could feel her heartbeat at this range, hear her rapid breath. He wasn't sure again - did he say something offensive or was she just that shy?

"Ahm... eee... I think Twilight is waiting for us... she didn't really come out yet, so..." her voice was becoming more silent by the second. Mac decided to take action before she would completely wrap herself in her shell.

"Eeeyup, let's go, sugarcube."

Why can't I stop smiling, 'tarnations?!

She was first to make a move. His voice was like a command to her. Fluttershy quickly lifted herself with a little aid of her wings. Macintosh, on the other hoof, took his time to raise his heavy body from the still-green grass. His own pair of feathers moved erratically, finally settling down on his sides. He noticed it took him considerably less time to fold them since his attempt at Books and Branches. Her lesson was paying off.

As they drew closer to the ghastly tree-home, Mac's previously quelled fear began to resurface. The shady shapes took on a new, vicious meaning. He could swear the hardwood was ready to eat him whole. It seemed oddly familiar, in fact. Still, he would not run tonight. If she could withstand the mental assault, so could he. It would give the worst impression if he wouldn't. The petite mare near him remained steadfast, her entire body betraying nothing of her undoubtedly lingering dread.

...what if she's really not afraid?

__________________________________________________________

Both of the ponies peered inside the mysterious dwelling through the half-opened doors. In a gentlecoltly manner, Mac insisted he'd go first. A stallion should always protect a mare and tread the dangerous lands before his lady. His head peeked slowly, emerging from behind the solid woodwork.

The room was exquisite and exotic, but even that was a major understatement. In the middle of the chamber stood a large iron cauldron, heated by what appeared to be a small campfire. It was bubbling with a strange, repulsive green liquid. As various foams traveled up, they would form bubbles on its surface. With each pop, tiny amounts of purple-green haze lifted themselves above the concoction, spiraling down unto the ground and slowly travelling towards the nearest exit. Macintosh could feel the "evil air" around. Additionally, various vials and bottles lined themselves both on the floor, inside the various trenches in the walls and hanged from linen ropes hanging from the ceiling. There was a small counter on the side, laded with various herbs. Colourful bags rested against it, filled to brim with plants he had never seen in his life.

Finally, his eyes traced a familiar figure. Twilight Sparkle sat to the left of the chamber, covered from the outside by the door. She watched another mare - alien, unfamiliar, stripped and with a strange body language. The enchantress was busy, her hooves and mouth shuffling through an assortment of potions. She was brewing something, as he could smell the fresh scent of milled herbs and even see the recently used mortar. She muttered something under her breath, but he was far too preoccupied with his own overwhelming sense of dread to hear or discern the meaning of her words.

Macintosh's eyes soon found themselves locked on a small object - it was a stick of wood of some kind. Neatly carved, ultimately plain. Still, a small hole roughly in the two-thirds of its length gave an impression of the implement being used to the wrong cause. It was at this time that the unicorn mare decided to turn around. She instantly spotted the large mountain of a pony trying his best to sneak inside the zebra's dwelling.

And failing miserably.

Before any of them could do more than barely exhale, Mac notice an oddity on Twilight's face. A sore, thick red stripe ran from her horn all the way down her nose. Her large eyes were watered, but otherwise, she seemed fine. In fact, she was smirking at him slightly.

"...still make quite a ruckus."

The voice was different, slightly melodic. He was sure it wasn't Fluttershy's. It carried a slight hint of hearse, the speaking pony being of adult age or more.

"Welcome to you, Fluttershy, dear.

What could possibly lead you here?"

Mac's wings sprung up instantly. Somehow, the pegasus mare not only managed to sneak pass him unnoticed, but she also casually trotted down into that zebra's house, starting a conversation like it was nothing.

...h..h..how?!

"Oh, good evening Zecora. Thank you for the extract. Henry really appreciates it."

"Truly, it was no ordeal.

A stranded soul like him you healed."

There was a slight groan from the unicorn, still sitting in the middle of the conversation.

"Speaking of mending, the apprentice is right,

I shall brew the cure-all salve with all my might," the zebra nodded before turning around back to her work-space.

Mac managed to recognize aloe and a few other herbs as the foreigner settled them into the mortar. Clenching the pestle, she began to tenderize and eventually mill them into a powder or a fine mush. His fear was still great, but his curiosity had gotten the best of him. The large mountain tried to slide closer. He wanted to peer at the working alchemist. He knew his own share of biennial remedies, passed down from Granny Smith herself down to him and Applejack. He did his best to lengthen his thick neck.

"Twilight Sparkle, what about our third guest?

Will he step in only on my behest?"

With those simple words, Macintosh lost his balance. She somehow managed to notice him. The door slammed open as the large ball of red coat, hooves and light feathers rolled into the room. His face was sprawled clean against the ground, looking up in embarrassment at the two mares. Indeed, he was a sight to behold. His flank rose high in the air as the front of his body descended neatly into a lying position. His wings stood semi-erect, twisted in seemingly painful ways. Once again, Mac praised the colour of his hair.

"...we were wondering when you'd finally show up," the unicorn added with slight sarcasm. She was enjoying this.

"Umm... are you alright, Big Macintosh?" Fluttershy went directly to the point.

"Big Macintosh, I see you're well here.

Though I am boggled as to why downwards you veer."

Zecora did not even turn around, she was too busy gently pouring the herbal dust into a heated vial of water.

How does she know my name?! I... she is evil! Celestia help me!!

"Little Applebloom told me what gallant brother you are.

It will be my pleasure to aid— ...oh my."

His wings were fully up by that point. Were it not for the presence of his two new friends, he swore he would have be trashing this place like an elephant in a glass shop by now. Finally, their eyes met. The red farmpony stared with tremor while his zebra host simply replied with befuddlement. He would not break his glance, tracking her every movement as if his life depended on it, Zecora casually smirked, looking at her new unicorn apprentice with a smile.

"I see you've cooked a truly vile brew.

I, for one, wouldn't put it in my stew," she added in jest.

Suddenly, Mac's piled-up anxiety came crushing down. The joke had caught on him, prompting a faint smirk he wanted to hide more than anything in his life before. His mind tried rationalizing - she's alien to Equestria. She knows Applebloom too well. She can be dangerous. She can easily poison him. On the contrary, the part of him skilled at reading ponies flared up to action. The zebra wasn't masking anything. Her gestures were plain and frank. There was nothing hidden - she really did wish to aid him. The casual smile and the off-hoof quip made it all more apparent.

I can't just... she needs to prove herself! I... definitely she needs to!

"Patience, my friend. I'll be with you like a bat out of hell.

Let me just help some mare," she spoke turning around.

The previously colourless liquid had since turned vibrant white. It was no longer water, instead taking on like a gooey substance. Mac was reminded of clay, or a herbal oil Granny would often smear into his bruises back when he was first wielding his yoke. The zebra picked up the vial and trotted over to Twilight, pouring some of her concoction on her own hoof. With deft movement, she spread a thin layer across the unicorn's sore mark. The other mare itched a bit, her body shaking from the cold jelly touching the inflamed skin.

"We've been through this, please hold still.

Unless you want me to grow ill."

Twilight groaned, nodding as Zecora withdrew her hoof.

"..t-thsk... thank you, Zecora."

"Make nothing of it,

I won't charge a friend one bit.
Now, all is done, your head will mend.

How can I help your aide... so curiously bent?"

So glad I'm naturally red.

__________________________________________________________

Macintosh sat firmly on the wooden floor, the front of his body supported by his hooves. He did not even move, aside from the seldom twitch of his wings. The sap green eyes darted left and right, scanning his immediate vicinity. Zecora had told them all to make themselves at home, and the two mares obliged. Twilight quickly took to her alchemical mentor, both of them busy over a small desk with various apparatus, passing vials and mixtures to each other with hoof and magic. On the other side of the room, the meek Fluttershy was browsing some bottles, commenting each and every one with glee to a small spider that had perched itself right on her small nose.

Meanwhile, the stallion's muscular chest heaved in and out with every, barely audible, breath. He found himself in a familiar situation. The anxiety in the air reminded him - when he was small, and still the only colt of the Apple family in Ponyville, he had managed to break his leg in an unfortunate accident involving a ladder and a bucket. He never cried as much in his life. His mother had forsaken her duties and took him right to the local hospital.

Almost everything since then was a parallel.

Back in the day, the little colt suffered from an irrational fear of doctors. There was something about their reluctancy in offering aid to ponies on certain matters and their generally aloof demeanour. When he had been faced with a personal visit, he could remember his heart beating faster than it ever did up until that point. Were it not for his mother's soothing presence and the frequent word of encouragement, he would simply let the leg be, risking a major fracture or even ripping it apart further.

Much to his surprise, the doctor tending to him had turned out to be a mare of rural origins, similar to the Apples' own. Her execution was flawless, and the little colt was bandaged in no time. When she had been busy tying the sheets over his leg, the two of them alone, she would be the one to first start a conversation. She had inquired about the daily subjects - how were the trees hanging, was the last season fruitful, was his mother doing fine in her pregnancy, did he want a sister or a brother? He, too, would answer truthfully. At first, he had stammered, but ice had been broken fast and the conversion soon flowed gracefully between the two.

After her promotion and subsequent moving to Canterlot, Mac found himself wishing to meet the now-old mare once more.

The sound of a popping bubble thrust his mind back to the present time. The witch doctor was still busy discussing the brew with her unicorn apprentice, and the pegasus mare had since taken to prodding the spider around, playing tag with the creature on the ceiling.

A thought came over Big Macintosh. Comparing himself to his own, past self, he noticed that he had grown considerably as a brother. He managed to blur the border between an aloof, inspiring older sibling and a closer, warmer kin. With him around, Applejack always behaved in a respectable manner. Applebloom, too, showed a much more caring and creative side. Something about him drove her to better herself. In a way, that was exactly what Mac had planned. He was supposed to be an exemplar pony for them, so that they, too, could one day be a paragon to their own offspring.

Yet in the end, a fault appeared on the pristine surface of his design. A fault that would grow bigger and more apparent, day after day. Soon, his sisters had inverted the roles. It was them who began lecturing the big stallion. After Applejack became an Element of Harmony, their efforts essentially doubled themselves. Something went wrong, and Macintosh found himself questioning the exact nature of his failure.

Another twitch of his wings and the short, audible gasp of his allowed his mind to find the missing piece of the riddle.

While he had grown considerably as a brother...

...have I really become, well a better... me?

__________________________________________________________

"... would you kindly hand me the vial?"

"Mmhmm... t-this one, yes? I... don't want to ruin anything."

A purple glow wrapped itself around the glass, slowly releasing it from Fluttershy's hooves and planting it right on the rack near the others.

"Be careful with your magical hex!

Carelessly, the brew you could vex," Zecora scolded the unicorn.

Twilight did not respond, merely limiting herself to a nod. Were it somepony else, Mac could swear the unicorn wouldn't let them hear the end of it. Now, instead, the mare exhibited strange personal inhibition. She drank each word of the zebra with strange accuracy. She wasn't afraid, she was eager.

"The recipe I do not guess.

Perhaps you have made a new case?"

"I... I invented a new potion? Oh, please, don't be silly!"

"I dare not play on funniness.

I speak with utmost seriousness

What I see before me is no ordinary formulation..." the enchantress spoke, pulling the half-empty vial to her. Small bits of the glowing purple concoction still shimmered on it's very bottom.

"I fear I must give it a tasteful investigation."

The next action shocked everypony in the room. Everypony sans Twilight, who stood in silence, her eyes looking at the older zebra with admiration. Fluttershy covered her mouth with her hooves whereas the red stallion spread his wings further in amazement.

...did she just drink it for me?

"...my tongue tastes cinnamon and pegasi' plume.

Any more darkweed would spell his doom," Zecora added with a grave face.

A single drop of sweat slid down Mac's brow. Both of the other mares stood silent. The unicorn barely turned her face to the mountain of a pony. Her gaze was frightful and apologetic.

"But fear not, all is fine.

The cure can be made in a dime.

Unfortunately, additional herbs I must facilitate.

Would the gallant stallion help me accumulate?"

Finally, broken from her alchemical trance, the zebra turned around nodding at the two ponies. As she finished her sentence, she shot Big Macintosh a most significant glare. He could feel her accusation. His paranoia and fears got the best of him, and while the other two were quick enough to dismiss it as the apparent sign of stress about his wings, her experience picked up on the not-so-subtle signs flawlessly.

"Do you want me to work on something, Zecora?" Twilight asked eagerly, but the only response she had gotten was a firm shake of the zebra's head. Fluttershy was too busy cleaning the discarded and dirty bottles to bother responding - she managed to find herself a task already.

...t..there's no way I'm getting out of this, aren—

His witch doctor was already standing by the door.

"The large bag to your rear.

I wish you to bring it over here."

Macintosh reacted on instinct. He tried not to think what would happen, the future was too uncertain. Right now, his "friend" needed the bag to carry her supplies. With a weak flap, he managed to pick himself up from the sitting position without putting any strain on his legs at all. With the same motion, he tucked his wings to his sides. Fluttershy's lessons were really paying off. Trotting over to the other desk, he grabbed a large cotton bag with his teeth. It was mostly empty, but the residue from previous herbs still lingered, scenting his nose with a mixed fragrance. Turning around, Mac sped to the door. Zecora had already disappeared.

The stars outside shone brightly. Luna had taken exceptional care in spreading an intricate pattern on the firmament. It dawned upon the stallion - the immediate area around her hut was strangely calm, unlike the untamed wilds of Everfree. Of course, it left much to desire compared to his farm of even Ponyville itself, but in a green sea of chaos like the dreaded forest, her humble abode had proven to be an island of calm and peace. A subtle gust of wind blew green spores before his eyes, their tender light dancing in his sight. The zebra was to his right, surveying her slightly untamed yet impressive garden of plants.

She was trotting before four patches, absorbed in surveying one after the other. She would dig her muzzle into each, sniffing deeply, sometimes sneezing. When she approached the green ones, she took a bite off one of the leaves, munching it slowly, discerning its taste.

In all that time, Big Macintosh stood idly, the bag still clenched in his mouth. He was entirely red and on verge of exploding with frustration and anticipation. He couldn't make sense of his stray thoughts. One side of his mind yelled at him to run away, protect his friends from the alien creature before him. The other, more calm and analytical part had laid each and every situation he and the zebra took part in. It stated how she neither brought him harm nor harboured vile intents.

I... I don't know anymore. I should give her a chance, shouldn't I?I mean... she could've omitted the fact I, well, almost died. And now she's... she's so similar to miss Twilight and miss Fluttershy. Her tail is strangely rigid. Is she angry at me? Am I being so transparent?

"Tell me, my friend, how would you feel,

If your family were the ones to be feared?"

Zecora had failed to move a muscle. Her voice came out dry and barren. This startled Big Mac, but in a way he did not expect. His wings, for the first time, failed to react. In a daze, his mouth had dropped the linen bag, covering his front hooves in worn fabric. His mind was a mess, random thoughts and strings of responses flooded his head, yet nothing would come out. He had no response.

The zebra finally turned around, placing hoof after hoof in a melancholic manner. While her body betrayed a certain hint of sadness, her face had none of it. It was as solemn and unchanging as before.

"Fear is only a natural thing for ponies to do,

My coat being black, my tail being striped.
They run from me as I whisper boo,

But why of all creatures do I face this strife?

I make my place in this stray tree,

Away from those too blind to think.
Why do you still fail to see,

After your friends passed this brink.

Your sisters come visit me here,

They weave stories of your gallantry.
Yet one needs to be no seer,

To see those fed on dishonesty."

Her words flew forth from her mouth, coalescing into a shining, sharp blade. With every drawn breath, the imaginary implement struck deep blows into Mac's pride. She was right, straight to the point. He was foolish and irrational. The stallion stood there, filled with grief. She dared to insult him by way of his siblings. In any other situation, the offending pony would receive a solemn beating, either physical or verbal.

Yet the red leviathan of a stallion simply sat there, his expression slowly cracking underneath the pressure of truth. His lower lip began to quiver.

"I have grown used to such hate,

To the accusing eyes behind my back.
But what my heart still cannot relate,

Is how you trot in here without a tact.

My heart's desire is to mend,

Help ponies in their dire straights.
Silently, I weep for each my sight may rend,

As they consign themselves to their sad fates.

But your brashness is like a thorn,

Embedded deeply in my soul.
Have you truly made an oath,

To wound me like the fields you plough?"

The silver-tongued knife was viciously ravaging his chest, piercing his heart with each stab until nothing was left. She was right, painfully so. Macintosh realized he had never truly become an adult. All this time, deep down, he was still a colt. A misguided, judging and biased colt. All he had based his flawed accusations on were urban legends and telltale stories.

I... ighm... 's true... my sisters, they're right. I'm nothing more than a foal. How... how could I... oh sweet Celestia. 'm not a... oh Celestia help me...

His breathing became irregular, his massive chest beating up and down. Slowly, his wings started shaking, just as the rest of his limbs. His ears dropped down, and his face twisted into an expression of anguish. With each twitch he would try to draw air in through his nostrils, weeping thinly through his throat as he did. Zecora, on the other hand, stared at him intently, slowly lowering her head in apathy.

"Know that you have pained me greatly,

But I shall help you in a debt.
Consider yourself lucky I do so innately,

Without the need of you sisters' abet."

What followed was only silence, the zebra staring blankly at the large stallion almost thrice her size. She had remained composed, turning around slowly back to the herbs. Mac, on the other hand, was down in tears. He still throbbed, forsaking calm movement. His wings were shaking, and meek cries could be heard gliding on the air. His eyes were watered, thick streams of tears dropping down his muzzle.

"..."

"Is there anything else you wish to say?

Empty words easily fade away."

"..."

The mutters were hard to make out, concealed beneath Big Macintosh's impressive deep voice laden with coughs and cries.

"...ah'm sorry..."

Zecora simply stood motionless, her own ears alert.

"...ah'm sorry... ah'm s'sorry fe'... fer everythin'... ah... ah've been such a foal.. ah... ah'm sorry! Ah know what it means t'be a reject, Ah really do! Ah.. ah trust 'em ponies with mah life, but 'er still 'fraid o' me! Ah really know, m-miss Zecora! 'ey pass meh glances an' warm words, but 'ey 'r sti' 'fraid... a' 'orry mi' Zecora! A' 'ely ahm..."

It wasn't much longer before the impressive mountain of a stallion crumbled down on itself. The zebra was now faced with a red blob of hair and feathers, lying in the middle of her garden with its face buried beneath its front hooves, moans and cries filling the serene night sky. Nopony could even begin to decipher what Mac was saying, his normally composed speech compromised and replaced with sobs.

...stupid... stupid...stupid... stupid...stupid... stupid...stupid... stupid...stupid... stupid...stupid... stupid...stupid... stupid...

Something prodded his side, alas he did not care. Any remains of his rationally were buried underneath a pile of self-loathing and embarrassment. His own voice rang heavily in his head, silencing anything coming from outside. His wings were flapping half-spread, reminiscent of a broken bird more so than anything else. He swore he would easily put his head before a rolling boulder this very instant. He was so blind, so insensitive. Completely unlike what the others held him to be. The only other pony in whole of Equestria, somepony who could truly relate to him, has been lost to his petty prejudice.

A soft scent of fragrant flowers filled his nostrils, causing the stallion to choke on his own tears. He had to clear his muzzle with his hoof, uncovering his face. The spores got deep inside, and still penetrated his smell. Having his brooding interrupted, he glared before him in annoyance. Why wouldn't the world let him spill his sorrows in peace.

Mac's wings descended slowly, spread fully against the grass. Before his eyes, all around him, was a many-coloured ring of flowers. Some of them shone, reflecting Luna's moonlight. The others still spread their spores, small orbs of light in the darkness of the night. Before him sat Zecora, her hooves still busy with planting and arranging the last large blossom. Her face looked disinterested as ever, though he could notice her feelings from the movement of her front legs. Soft and steady, almost tender like a mother soothing her own child. She looked at him in the face, gently rising a hoof and wiping one of his tears away. Her expression did not change the slightest.

"Sometimes one should stop and give the world another view.
Gaze both ways to the old and new."

__________________________________________________________

Twilight was content enough to sit before the bench, absentmindedly tossing the empty vials and segregating them according to size, width, height and previous content. In her brief week as an apprentice alchemist, she had already figured out half a dozen of sorting algorithms for each precise need. At first, they took considerable effort to roll out flawlessly. By now, she could easily guess the exact size and shape of the bowl as soon as her magical miasma touched upon the glass object.

Fluttershy, on the other hand, was spending her time in a vastly different manner. She had been trotting around a circle for the entire time since Mac had left the building. Muttering underneath her breath, soon almost ten spiders, three bats and a small dark hare joined her in her panicked pace.

"B-bb...but what if he gets s-sick or something?" she was stammering, worried sights jumping between each spider. She had apparently given them names.

"Yes, I'm afraid too miss Strignylegs. Mmhmm, you are absolutely right, sir Spinalot..."

"They'll be fine... though I am worried she'll trounce him too hard. If what Applejack keeps telling is true, he'll have to deal with quite the scolding..." the unicorn reminded her pegasus friend of the obvious once more.

"I--I hate scolding... or being scolded..."

"Don't we all, Fluttershy?" Twilight's voice stopped as she heard the doors creak.

The dark regress opened slowly, each second filled the room with sound of dry wood scraping heavily against another. It stopped half-way, in the exact same position the pegaus had left them in when first entering the tree-hut. With solid clops, Zecora stepped in. She carried a faint beam on her face, her eyes watered slightly. Her movement was temperament, though she gave of an aura of relief. As the three mares caught sights of each other, their soft smiles intensified in a chain reaction. The unicorn was about to open her mouth when a large thud came resounding from the outside.

The zebra replied with a silent nod, stepping to her side with an elegant flourish. The doors once again began to move, making way for somepony much greater in stature than the enchantress. Emerging from the dark night, Big Macintosh looked different, to say the least. Fluttershy's instincts came in first as she had quickly spread her wings, almost taking off. A gentle tug at the base of her tail, the shimmering magic of miss Sparkle, drove home the unicorn's intentions. The yellow mare settled down without as much as protest. The red stallion before them exhibited a curious expression. His eyes, not unlike Zecora's, were watered, albeit to a much greater extent. Moist trails on his coat did nothing to cover the embarrassing situation he had gotten himself into a dozen minutes ago. Still, his muzzle, clenched over the now filled-to-the-brim bag of herbs, betrayed a delicate grin. His wings, the only sure tell to his true feelings at this time, showed absolutely nothing. They were tucked in gently at his sides. Indeed, he had taken minimal effort doing so a while before. Fluttershy's lessons were finally paying off.

The two mares bore faces of amazement and confusion. Twilight knew well enough what her alchemy teacher was capable of when angered, and it was not a pretty sight. Moreover, knowing Applejack's honesty, Big Mac was a much greater softy than he appeared to be. How he had happened to survive that encounter was beyond her. Her pegasus friend shared her face, looking at the newly-arrived pair of ponies in disbelief.

" 's here, miss Zecora?"

He had spoken first. To the Zerbra. Both of the mares' jaws dropped.

"Indeed, place them by the work bench.

Make sure to leave them firmly entrenched."

" 'll do, miss Zecora."

"Your help is invaluable, my friend.

Your ailment we shall soon mend..."

The reminder of the night graced the four ponies with relative peace. Each one of them swore to fulfill a different role, just for the sake of making work go faster. The zebra, along with the unicorn mare, hovered over the alchemical table in focus. The elder would mix herbs and pre-brewed concoctions, forming one potion after another. Were the ingredient too far away, she only had to call two words and it would float right over to her, enveloped by the magical miasma. Twilight absorbed what transpired before her on the table with impossible accuracy, determined to learn everything she could from the brief yet valuable experience.

Fluttershy, on the other hoof, found herself helping with water supplies and cleaning. Whenever a new recipe blew spectacularly or was just not good enough, the winged mare would either refill the water bowl at the nearby spring, ready to be used for more magical mixtures or drain the spare potion into Zecora's garden. Either way, nothing went to waste. Wet cloth failed to leave her muzzle for more than a minute at times. It was not long before her natural, rustic charm attracted a plethora of woodland critters. This act had effectively tripled the mare's effciency. Rabbits and hares of all shapes and sizes distributed clean and empty bottles alike. The ants formed a line to the stream, where a small group of badgers took care in refilling the bowls.

On the other end of the room, Macintosh helped with his oversized body as best as he could. The zebra had lent him a wooden plate, and his hoof served in place of a pestle. By using just a bit more of his strength, even the most elusive herb was turned into a fine paste or dust. He could feel the texture and strength of the wood, which helped him discern just the right amount of force needed. Otherwise he would leave a rather permanent signature in the Zecora's floor. The yellow mare would occasionally replace the bowl to his right he had used to clean his hoof between each grind. Were remnants of his previous job somehow get in into the mixture, his "cure" would become yet another ordeal to go through. Or worse.

He stallion himself worked over his menial task with care. He wasn't trying to kill his mind or time. His wings rested leisurely against his sides. For once, in a longer while, he was at peace. Though hints of enmity - out of shame more so than anything else - remained, he would now gaze at the zebra as another friendly soul, and not an enemy of the ponies. In fact...

Why was I afraid... anyway? She's a pony, like us, after all. I don't even mind the gryphons, yet I was afraid of another pony? Silly.

The night had dragged on and on. Soon enough, Fluttershy abandoned her post and fell asleep underneath Mac's wing. The impressive legion of animals would substitute for her for the time being. His hoof, too, soon began moving in a semi-automatic motion. Twilight was quick to pull the implements away.

"You ought to rest a little. We can handle it just the two of us from here."

As much as he wished to oblige, his body held different opinions. The two ponies fell into light slumber. He could feel the yellow mare's warmth close to his body. It reminded him of little Applebloom. One day, long ago, the filly had seen a shadow of a bear prowling dangerously close to the Acres. She wouldn't sleep, and Big Mac spent the entire night telling her stories as she cuddled to his side.

While the pegasus mare ceased to interact with the outside world, the red mountain still had kept a firm touch on reality. Without his eyesight, his ears worked overtime, twitching and adjusting after each spoken word. Both Zecora and her assistant were growing wary, and the countless hours proved that they made no progress since the beginning of the ordeal.

The unicorn groaned audibly, scolded by the zebra's firm tone at first. It wasn't long before the enchantress herself became maddened over the lingering issue. He could hear them chatting over something, but failed to pick up any solid words. They continued their discussion for a little while, Twilight eventually lowering her voice in solemn acceptance. What followed was the sound of hooves trotting against wood, stopping right before them. Mac had opened his eye lazily. Stripes of black and white ran from all the way to the top of his vision, ending on a soft smile.

"My friend, grave news we bear.

Your condition is beyond rare."

"I'm sorry Big Macintosh. We tried everything we know..."

"Not everything, Twilight Sparkle.

But my methods would find you quite startled.

I know arts I am willing to teach,

But I share them to you a time each."

"...what do you mean?"

"I shall look for the cure on my own.

The focus needed can be gained only alone.

I will come to your apple garden in a week,

Hopefully carrying the answer so unique.

For now, rest.

Return to your dwellings you best."

Zecora nodded. Her face appeared determined as never before. Her eyes were staring intently into his, sharing multitude of information no other pony could possibly understand. He knew she no longer meant him ill. She finally accepted him, just as he accepted her. In a way, the two had become friends. As her gaze twitched, he noticed she was still condescending towards himself. She had the full right to.

Perhaps one day I'll make up to her? No. I will do so. It's only right.

He felt a warmth engulf his back. He quickly rose his wings, spreading them slightly to his sides, once again forming the makeshift body-carriage. The purple miasma faded.

"I hope you won't mind carrying Fluttershy as we walk?"

"...eenope!" he beamed.

Breeze of For and Against

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Chapter VIII

" 'rite, 'rite! We're leavin'..."

Mac swore he could resonate with any animal. It only came natural to him, his innate earth pony magic helping him greatly. The animals around Fluttershy's cottage were even more prone to spending time with him, and he was overjoyed with their eagerness. In some way, they were different than ponies. They had no prejudice to hide behind.

And yet this white bunny was more than content to keep assaulting the large behemoth with wave after wave of knives laced with the most deadly venom, coming straight out of its eyes. Were it able to speak, it would probably yell obscenities at the stallion, most probably accusing him of being a freak of nature, of holding away the pegasus in the dangerous forest and possibly for a plethora of other nonsensical reasons.

"Macintosh, just... ignore him." Twilight added from outside the hut. She had barely moved her mouth, instead a faint sparkle on her horn betrayed her spell. Was she projecting words straight into his mind?

"He's simply made that way."

As Mac walked outside, the doors promptly shut themselves after him, enveloped by the unicorn's shimmering aura. He heard a few clicks from inside, mechanisms sliding across metal surfaces. The mare before him stuck her tongue out as if she was busy solving a puzzle.

"...all done, locked up. I hope I didn't forget any keys... she usually locks herself longer than this."

"Miss Twilight...?"

"Yes, Macintosh?"

There was something in her voice that worried him. Since their visit to Zecora's hut and the almost whole-night-long chore of potion brewing, miss Sparkle had dropped the "Big" part of his nickname. He had been touched by the change as well, realizing so just now. To him, she was now "miss Twilight". His ears perked themselves at that thought. Luckily, she would not notice, or at least sign it off as a mark of his attention.

"Ummm... 's night an' all, but..."

He spread his wings to their fullest. The sun was still hours before dawn, and so far away from Ponyville, he was safe from any stray gaze. She looked at him with a curious face.

"Yes... that may be a problem. You had to rip that bandage apart, didn't you?"

He smiled embarrassed, his cheeks flaming up slightly.

I'm still so stupid sometimes.

"I can't help you too much there, you have to figure something out. I'll have Spike drop by your place with a new set of bandages, but for now... ummm... oh! This can do!" she added quickly, closing her eyes. With a smirk, her horn sparkled. As the glitters intensified into a strong glow, an ethereal aura spread from its tips, splitting in two large clouds of glimmerdust as they settled on his wings. Strangely, they lacked touch. In all ways, they did not exist to his senses.

Where'd they go?

To make sure, Mac flapped his wings. He still felt his muscles, and the air drove to motion at his act. But there was nothing, his usual red hair rested on his sides. No feathers whatsoever. As much as he would like to cherish that moment, he knew well enough of it being but a fleeting illusion.

"I can keep the enchantment on your wings for about an hour and a half, possibly less.I'm sorry Macintosh, I'm tired. The clock is ticking, so I guess we'll see each each other tomorrow", Twilight said as she smiled happily. A single tear of sweat slid down from her forehead. The spell was putting a strain on her.

" 'rite, Miss Twilight. Thank'ye fer all you've done fer me. G'nite."

"Sleep well."

He began his trot back to the Sweet Apple Acres.

Faintly, in the distance behind him, he could swear he had heard the unicorn's voice yelling, weakly, about the fragility of the spell and something about not touching anything.

Or maybe it was just his tired mind.

__________________________________________________________

The early phase of dawn is a curious time.

The sun, barely visible as an aura of red and auburn on the horizon, is slowly creeping up the skyline. The stars are still plainly visible and their patron, the moon, shines even more brightly than it did during the night time. The pony world, still covered in an umbral shade, takes on a curious and mesmerizing plethora of colours. Shadows lengthen, twist and fade and mundane objects return to their usual shapes, the dark haze responsible for their sometimes monstrous appearance fades away. On the other hoof, many nocturnal ponies see this time as an end to their curious hobbies.

Finally, this time of wonders and mystery dissipates back into banal day.

The soil below Macintosh's hooves felt warm, welcome. Unlike the wild and roaring land of Everfree, the way to the Acres was almost awaiting his return. Each step filled him with a sense of nostalgia, yet remembrance. The forest was indeed untamed, but as he had spent time amongst its thick lush, slowly the roars turned into voices, which in turn subdued themselves further into mere whispers. The realization struck him only just now, prompting a familiar thought.

I'm so blind. This place and Everfree, they're the same, all in all. Different, uncivilized, but in their fundaments, they're alike. Heck, Granny probably remembers when this place was just as dangerous as... wasn't Everfree bigger back in the day?

He chuckled to himself slightly. The very road he had trotted back and forth day after day was once nothing more than jungle he had just escaped. He wouldn't put the two and two together for his life were it not for the visit to Zecora's little glade. That place was still brisking with the savage side of nature, yet it was much more quiet. Not completely silenced like Ponyville. Simply muffled.

His heart began pounding heavily against his chest as he looked up. The familiar sight - the wooden fence painted red, the old barn sitting on the hill, his house. Finally Macintosh found himself home. Nonchalantly, he walked through the gates. As if on a cue, a small, dark-brown shape dashed across the field, her white fangs glaring at the "intruder". All that he needed was a simple smile, and the dog immediately stopped scaring the potential apple thief, welcoming her other owner instead.

Winona nuzzled herself between Mac's legs as he continued his slow walk to the Apple household. The two had moved in such a formation for years now, and while the stallion could easily crush the little creature with little thought, both of them had perfected each other's moves to resemble a flowing dance. As he approached the porch, he swung his tail in a peculiar manner left and right, mesmerizing the canine. With a swift tuck to the left, Winona left dashing back to the barn.

When will she ever learn I don't have balls in my tail.

Each plank was a trap to an unwelcome guest, but to Macintosh, each was a familiar step. Not a single creak was given, even as the wood bent slightly under his impressive weight. He nudged the doors open with his muzzle, trying to remain as quiet as he could. Applejack would still have approximately half an hour of sleep, maybe more. Depriving her of that leisure would be a sin to an older brother such as he.

He stealthily moved through the living room, but a flicker caught his eye. As he pushed his head beyond the door frame, he noticed the fireplace was still lit. Somepony was there, rocking back and forth on Granny's favourite chair. Warily, he had spread his now-invisible wings. At best, were he to tackle the intruder, he would have two more limbs of advantage. Still, why would they decide to snooze off on a rocking chair in the middle of a hei—

"..ghm... 's time already? 'tarnations, Ah wanna sleep 'lil bit longer... Applebloom... get ye flank back t'bed..."

Applejack was shuffling herself from one side to another. He immediately tucked his feathers in, approaching the chair from the other angle.

His sister looked dreadful, to say the least. Her tail was tucked underneath her, the band gone somepony knows where. She rarely spread her hair to such extent, apparently ashamed of their colour or texture. Mac found the notion silly. Still, the blonde carpet was wrapped around her right leg as she trashed on the chair. Her mane was, on the other hoof, kept tied, though the binding moved at least halfway up the length. It was ruffled horribly. Her eyes were baggy. Whatever happened, she was sleep deprived and worn. Though upon closer inspection, he noticed that neither her front nor her rear hooves were truly used. They were kept relatively clean. She wasn't working hard in the fields that day.

Her next shift had taken Mac by surprise, as the two poked each other on their muzzles gently. The stallion tucked his head back slightly, shaking and smiling. Applejack did not react at first, yet slowly her eyes began to open.

"...Applebloom? Why'ye suddenly s'big?"

"...'s me, Jacks."

He swore were she to buck trees with the same force he got pounced now, she could very much compete with him in the number of obliterated trunks. Maybe even win. Were it not for his incredible build, he would very possibly be down beneath her on the floor. Instead, the orange mare hung around his neck, essentially doubling the weight of his yoke.

Once again, there was nothing but silence. Awkward, but favourable silence. The kind of hush one basks in. The soft cracking of wood consumed by the homely hearth resounded through the living room.

"Ye didn't sleep 'cuz of me, eeyup?"

"How could Ah sleep with ma brother away in th' Everfree?"

His ears perked up in curiosity.

"How did'ya know?"

"Spike came over 'ere in th' afternoon."

He gave a responsive nod.

"So... how was it?" she asked him, finally letting go and sliding down onto the floor.

"Ah... y'won't sleep fer the rest o' the night?"

"Nnopes."

He sighed heavily, turning around towards the kitchen.

"Ah'll make ye some te—"

"Mac?! Where's ye wings?! Did it work!?"

The stallion, once again, sighed heavily in frustration.

"Settle down 'sis. Yer wakin' the whole house up."

He unfurled his left wing, gently tucking it against the door frame. Applejack's eyes went wide as suddenly, empty space began cracking. Purple light shone from beneath the impossible, glass-like structure apparently hanging in the air. It intensified as the little chips multiplied. Soon, the ethereal marble turned into dust, gilding away into non-existence. Underneath the mystic carapace, Macintosh's wings were still intact, red and glaring to both of the ponies as "normal".

"H--'ow did ya do that?"

"Miss Twilight. Now settle down y'self, Ah'll get ya some tea."

As he walked further into the kitchen, he gave the other frame another nudge from his right wing, repeating the process. He was thankful magics most often made no sound.

__________________________________________________________

Applejack drank the last sip of her apple-scented tea as if she had nothing to drink for the whole day. Her ears were high in the air, her hat lying discarded on the handle of the couch. It was something she didn't do often. Mac knew well enough just how close she was to their fatherly hierloom. His escapade scared the living daylights out of that mare. He felt fitting to apologize in an appropriate brotherly manner.

He pulled his right wing, adjusting it behind his sister's back.

"Ah... Ah can really grow used th' those wing-hugs..."

"Enjoy it while ya can."

"So... did Zecora get ya a cure? When will 't be ready?"

Applejack asked, hope in her voice. Perhaps she didn't really mind the additions to his back, yet he could easily feel she was sorry for him on a different level. He knew it was wrong to tell her the truth, to crush her spirit. Though neither he nor she could tell a lie with a straight face. She'd guess in no time.

"So...?"

He shook his head - "Nnnope, Ah'm sorry sis."

The next thing he felt were her front legs wrapping around his midsection. Mac's eyes opened themselves slightly more from their usual slumber.

"We'll figure somethin' out sugarcube. Y'need t'get to bed. Ye've been out there fer th' whole night."

The very idea was resenting. He breathed out through his nostrils in a subdued manner.

"Ah'm not lettin' ya work th' whole field alone, sis."

"Sure as heck ye are."

"Ah worked 'em all th' last day!"

"And Ah'm not lettin' ye exhaust yerself like tha' anymore!"

Here we go...

When the two would begin a conversation with any combination of these words, such only foresaw conflict. Petty, sibling rivalry, yet still overtaking any other subject almost immediately, rerouteing the discussion into an heated argument for and against any given subject. Macintosh braced himself for Applejack's coming assault of words, already trying to string together a counter-argument.

The mare giggled. "Ye're surely vocal t'day."

"Now, Jacks, how many time d'Ah ha--"

He blinked as she giggled some more. Soon enough, she let him go, twisting out of his feathery grasp. With a precise flick of her tail, she had sent her hat spinning through the air, landing fair and square on her head. Mac still sat on the couch, barely moving as his sister trotted slowly into the kitchen.

"Ah think ya left me some leftover apple pancakes in th'.. ah, there they are! Without ya, there's no need t'cook so early. Applebloom doesn't wake up for the next hour or two, now does she?"

After a sound of rummaging in the kitchen, the earth pony mare came out, a single old and spongy pancake hanging from her mouth.

"Lhisthen nhowh, Mhahch. Yhah ghoh gheth shomhme shleeph whilhe Ah gho plhough th'h fhielhd. Yhah chnah jhoin mheh in 'th ahfthernhoon. Slheeph thight."

Slam.

Mac sat there alone, in the living room. The cozy fireplace was beginning to wane, the red flames already finished consuming their most recent wooden foe. Celestia's sun was beginning to shoot its morning rays through the eastern windows. The crimson colossus had his wings bent in an awkward angle - the left on hanging limp from his side and the right still cradling an object no longer present. His mouth was slightly opened, his eyes blinking occasionally at the empty space before him. Finally, he shook his head, smiling at his defeat.

Clever mare...

__________________________________________________________

Sometimes Applejack was right. He was shamed to admit so most often, but she was indeed correct on so many subjects. Still, the status quo was upheld, as he would too nail her secrets and needs with high frequency. Even if, just like he, she would not admit. His eyes were half closed as a unnaturally wide grin adorned his face. He was almost jumping up and down in his slow steps.

There was something uncanny about this particular night's sleep. Or rather, morning's sleep. On the usual day, he would drop himself into his bed at the normal hour, sleep his mandatory six to seven hours, rise up and cook a, to himself at least, tasty breakfast for everypony in the household. A well accepted and welcome routine. Yet not even after he had spent the entire day mercilessly ploughing through the field would his sleep give him such vim and vigour. Even his wings seemed like the tiniest problem, as if they could be taken away momentarily with a hoof's touch. It wasn't true, so much Mac took for granted, but his almost unnatural cheer would not allow such thoughts to linger for more than a fleeting moment.

As he descended down the stairs, his eyes caught sight of little Applebloom. She did not pay him any mind at all. As usual, her saddlebags bobbed up and down as she dashed to the door, slamming them behind her tail.

"Ah'm out'ta'school see'ye'later big'sis!"

If he was the silent and quiet type, his littlest sister's ramblings would occasionally drive him over the edge. She was late again, without a doubt. Still, she pulled through class after class, year after year. This one would be no exception.

Macintosh's nostrils seized up, opening themselves wide to take in the delicate scent of fresh food. After yesterday, he was famished and his stomach rumbled for nourishment. His senses sharpened by hunger, he could almost taste the delicate crust on the side of the pan. The juicy and tender filling made his mouth water. He was alone, thankfully.

Darn them manners.

His tongue flapped down from his mouth as he almost glided to the kitchen. Appropriately, even his wings unfurled themselves slightly. His tail was waggling from left to right, working as a tiny propeller, pushing him closer to his feast. Finally, he willed his eyes open. It stood before him, his sister's trademark apple pie. It was still fresh from the oven, a subtle immaterial glow of warmth steaming from the top. Mac pulled his tongue back in lest it would leave his salvia all over the counter. Only then had he noticed that the pie was already cut, a small bit of it missing. Below the pan, two sheets of paper were left nestled by some pony.

I took some break from bucking to make my sodding brother this little thing. Enjoy, big bro!

~ Jacks

She even signed it the way he had called her. Such a tease.

Sorry big brother, I was late and hungry. Hope you don't mind!

This note has been left unsigned. Applebloom was in too much of a hurry already, and spending time on a signature Mac could have guessed was a waste. Oh yes, he had taught her well. As much as his ravenousness was grand, he still chuckled silently at his little sister's approach.

I don't mind, silly. I don't.

That was the least important at the time, as Macintosh finally let his inhibition wane. With a simple thrust of his head he had burried his muzzle deep inside the soft pie filling. His wings spread slightly from sheer happiness. Sounds of soft pie crumbs falling on the floor were the only other things heard in the kitchen. Everything else was silenced by his overwhelming feast. Mac ate the pie like a hungry beast, not far from what he was at the time, yet his mouth savoured every bite of its flavour before swallowing. He was down to earth indeed, but sometimes, he gladly enjoyed himself in the little things.

As much he would cherish each moment, his meal lasted less than a minute in total. He had truly almost swallowed the pie in a single go. Satisfied, he licked the crumbs off his muzzle, pushing the plate away with his hoof. Sound of metal clashing against metal signified it landed right in the sink, left alone for future cleaning.

He trotted out of the kitchen, glancing outside through the window. He blinked twice in amazement. Applejack was ploughing the fields for him, so much was granted. She would do so without hesitation were he injured or out of commission. What eluded his mind was the fact she was harnessed with reins much too big for her. And behind her, the old, worn blade of his personal aperture cut the earth. Not thinking too much, Mac slammed the door to the house open, walking straight to his sister with his wings half-spread in disappointment and mild irritation. As much as he would want to deny it, her struggle amused him to an extent.

"Mac, what are ye doin' out---"

"Jacks, get yer flank outta my plough. Yer gonna break yer spine at 's rate!"

" 'tarnations, Ah'm just as strong as ye are!"

Wrong.

He could't retaliate. His mouth was already busy undoing the fastening on his sister's back. He didn't enjoy talking too much, quarrelling much less so, but he would never try to mingle speech with something in his grasp. Applejack continued to throw warnings and other words at his direction, yet he ignored her roused yelling. Finally, her tail smacked him straight between his eyes. Mac took a few step backs, taken aback by such gesture.

"Get back to th' kitchen, Mac!"

"Sis', don't ya ge--"

"What if somepony sees ye like 'tis?!"

His eyes opened themselves ajar. He was such a stupid blockhead at times.

"Common, git!"

It wasn't too long before he found himself before the barn door. A trail of dirt showed the exact track of him being pushed across the ground.

"Ye already took t'great risk comin' all th' way here. Get in an' stay put! Ah'll... Ah'll find ya a way to get ye home."

He didn't even protest too much. He tucked back his wings, and at the same moment they touched his red coat, the similarly coloured doors slammed shut behind him. He could hear Applejack shouting outside.

"An' don' open 'em!"

The inside of the storage was filled to brim with various tools and implements. Rows of haystacks supported the walls of their own volition, and wooden-red pillars stood up holding the ceiling and the upper decks from caving in. In one corner stood a workbench, worn and slightly used. Macintosh, when not using the plough or bucking trees, would spend hours before the grind wheel. With a soft smile, he trotted over to his usual spot.

A few broken tools laid bare in the middle of the table, scavenged from the cart wreck from two days ago. Scanning them with his lazy eye, Mac tried to discern exactly what was their purpose before the entanglement. It took him a few good minutes to deduce that the metal pretzel before him was probably a watering can. Probably. Somepony brought it back here for a reason, and perhaps he could hammer it out with sufficient time.

And of that he had a surplus.

__________________________________________________________

Sweat dripped from his forehead while his tongue stuck out from the side of his mouth. All that exhaustion, improbably, caused by stress than actual labour. Mac was very near to muttering curses. The object between his hooves eluded his hammer more than a dozen times in the last hour. He had forsaken the tool a few minutes ago, opting to use his raw strength and just bend it correctly with his legs. Such would allow for better precision. He made progress that way indeed. Just one more stretch to the side and...

His right wing poked on the wooden pillar.

Sprang, the metal tore.

By Celestia's royal applebucking...

"...mane, yer the darnest, stupidest piece o'crud Ah've ever seen!"

With a final and definite slam, the only thing that remained of the poorly fixed watering can was a single, neatly compressed plate, the vague outline of his hoof embedded neatly in the centre.

Mac settled down, taking a deep breath out and letting a snore though his nostrils. His short-cut tail swished left and right as his wing folded back to his side. He slid his hoof across the workbench, sending the object flying into the nearby trash bit. He'd have to pick it up and dispose of the waste... or perhaps visit Caramel and ask for repairs. That pony was much better with metalwork than he was himself. To do that, he would have to leave the barn first, but doing so bare as he was was equivalent to a social suicide.

As he was starting to search the immediate area for the second tool today, the doors to the barn began to slowly creak open. Instinctively, Mac spread his wings in a defensive position, taken aback. Quickly though, his mind caught up to the act and began to bring them down. The little conflict confused Macintosh as the stallion began flapping the feathers up and down, unable to come to a definite decision.

"Hey, Big Mac. Applejack said you'd be here...?"

The scrawny little voice proceeded the dragon's appearance.

For a little while, the two stared intently at each other. Mac's gaze was soon broken, trying to get a hold of his silly shenanigans. Spike's lingered for a little longer before the drake began, badly, concealing a honest chuckle. It soon turned into a laughing fit, ended only by the stallion's prod to his side.

The little creature rose from the ground, wiping away warm tears from his face. He smiled at the pony before himself, but Macintosh only replied with a stern face, his eyes half-closed as usual.

"So, Twilight's been asking how are you doing today?"

No response came from red behemoth, only a simple nod.

"Well... I am here with a little something-something! Sewn it myself!" he said before pulling back behind the door, dragging a rather large bag placed right in the centre of a bright-crimson cart.

Quickly, he scurried over to it and unfastened the belt, drawing forth a large cloak. It was rather plain, and the little details were crude and childish - a single yellow thread lined the outer edges. As the dragon was unfolding the whole thing before Mac, the stallion noticed it also had a hood added. That, and the fact the entire piece of clothing could cover him almost twice over.

"Y'know how t'sew?"

Spike's response was only an energetic nod.

"Mmhm! Twilight is awful when she tears the curtains with her magical fallout, so I've learned how to stitch them back together! Oh... and Rarity loves men who can sew."

If he would give the little thing his wings, the drake could easily fly away into the stratosphere.

"Ah'm... thank ye lots, Spike."

"Don't mention it! Wanna try it on?"

Big Macintosh looked to his left and right, seemingly searching for onlookers. His mind had then reminded him they were in a barn. He nodded.

It wasn't long before the library assistant leaped higher than those little legs could manage. The cloak trailed behind him in the air. Mac felt paws land on his back, his view obstructed by the fabric for a little while.

"Hang on, I'll have to get it through the yoke..."

The soft material (surprisingly so, in fact) whizzed against his ears. It felt ticklish at best, and the pony allowed himself to giggle slightly. His ears were a soft spot. The resulting spasm forced him to waggle his wings, causing a call of distress from the dragon on his back. Seconds later, the creature leapt down, clapping his scaly hands as a sign of a job well done.

"So, how do you like it?"

"Uhh... Ah'll need a mirror..."

The two looked at each other dumbstruck, one more than the other.

Don't let him push the subject, don't let him push the subject...

"So... umm... where'd ya get that fabric?"

Spike beamed him a smile.

"You see, Rarity had a resupply from Canterlot last week and she worked tirelessly for a new line of clothing! And then the whole incident with... umm... you and Cheerilee happened. So some rolls of the said fabric got torn and rugged, and she simply discarded them! While they were too bad for her dresses, I was one of the few ponies she was willing to donate for!"

...he's really into this thing, isn't he?

"Eh..."

Mac pulled his right wing up, rising the edge of his cloak. He inspected the yellow lining slightly, turning his head to the dragon.

"...that's... really nice an' all... how'd ya do it?"

"Oh? Oh, I'm very proud of this detail, you see? Actually, the idea got into my head roughly halfway through! You see, I remembered when you told me about all the stars in the night sky, so I decided that maybe you should have something starry... teehee... on your back. Well, I tried sewing Orion on your back but I... I can't really see how the dots, I mean stars, connect to each other. So I went for a white thin stripe down the entire length of it, but guess this - Twilight didn't have any white thread in the entire treebrary!"

Did he really just make that pun?

The excited dialogue went from there. Mac found an opportunity in such, and began walking to the door. Spike followed him like a child, asking for recognition from its mother or father. Now that he thought about it, the situation wasn't too far-fetched indeed. As he took step after step, he felt the cloth align itself with his wings, his haunch and his flank. As simple and crude was the cloak, it was comfortable. He didn't value aesthetics, and even the childish detail the monologue had solely focused on amused him to an extent.

I still can't believe he did this for me... You don't hand out gifts like that to strangers.

The warm sun was already high in the sky. Judging by its position, it was about noon, or not long after it. The day was still long before due. The idea of spending it idly terrified him - he wasn't sick, per se. He considered himself of fine health, almost more than usual. His two not-so-little additions were not impeding him overly so. He had valid reasons, and all of them were logical and sound.

Like Jacks will ever understand...

As he loitered around dressed as he was, Spike's banter never ceased in both volume and rapidity. Occasionally, Mac threw the dragon another log to the fire, in form of "How are you managing your claws?" or "Think you could perhaps knit an apron?". Still, search as hard as he could, the stallion couldn't find himself anything worthy of his time. Somehow, his sister had managed to fertilize and plough the field alone. Trees were bucked and clean, and only a few menial tasks remained. She had already shooed him away from them before, and his wings really did not promise a good time hurting against the yoke. He gave away a silent whinny, furious at how delicate those two new appendages were.

His ears perked up at the sound of a familiar voice.

"Thanks fer helpin' me with th' trees, Fluttershy!"

He turned around, noticing his sibling standing right next to a familiar, winged mare. She carried a basket on her half-bent leg, filled with simple, mundane groceries. Why would she visit the farm, though? They didn't sell apples directly from their acres unless it was a large order, around a few hundreds or more. The pegasus was clearly not here for business.

"Oh, please... I mean... I just asked the squirrels... and Tippy-Toe was very eager to help!"

"Ah couldn't have done it without ya!"

The other pony giggled slightly.

"Umm... well, I'm here for more than just... talk, Applejack. You see, I've been at the market and I've ran into Chance-A-Lot..."

"What'd the lookalike of mah brother want, eh?"

"...he asked me if I would... well... I would in fact. He asked me to tell you that Granny Smith finished all her chores and since... well, they lack half of their house now... umm... she's coming back."

A loud thud announced Mac's sudden arrival, feathers half-spread as he just landed from another impossibly long leap. Spike was busy skipping over to his suddenly-missing one-pony audience. Fluttershy yelped, hiding behind Applejack for the first second before finally realizing just who had appeared. The earth pony mare had a different reaction.

"Th' hay are ye doin?!"

"Granny's comin' back?!"

"Gash darn it Mac! Hide those!"

"Umm... hello Big Macintosh."

"Mac, tuck 'em back down... where'd y'get that?!"

"huff... huff... oh... hello there Fluttershy!"

"Good afternoon, Spike."

"Jacks, cut it out!"

"How are the rabbits?"

"Eeenope! Ye sto... ouch, stop pullin' mah.. argh!"
"Oh! Oh, Applejack please!"
"What's going on there?"
"Jacks, yer pullin' gghg!"
"Hey, I'm not sure wings should bend th—"
"Applejack! You're hurting him."
"Stop it S— Celestia darn'—"
"Hey! Hey he's wincin—"

"Everypony, QUIET!!"

Fluttershy immediately stalled her wings, landing and dropping her basket. Spike, seemingly taught by experience, lounged to catch it just before it could tumble and scatter all of the groceries over the dirt. Applejack stood in the middle, her front hooves still held up. Mac was much farther, leaping back with a strong gale away from the incredible pain inflicted, by mistake no doubt, by his very sister.

...they're really delicate...

"One. At. A time."

Strangely, the meek pegasus was first to take action, stepping forward with a worried and stern look on her face.

"Umm... Applejack. You're my closest friend, but I'm afraid... I'm afraid I have to be frank with you! You never really dealt with a pegasus before... so... so I guess you couldn't know but... but our wings can't bend that way! They're very sturdy and resistant, but you can easily snap the bones apart if you pull them in such manner! You could've injured your own brother, severely in fact! Please, next time be more careful!"

She stopped, catching herself.

"If... if you could remember my advice, of course..."

The earth pony gave a nod, looking at Spike.

He simply rose a single thumbs up. Fingers were a foreign concept to all the gathered, but the two Elements had spent enough time near the dragon to know that he meant he was fine and she could move on.

"...and ye?"

"Granny's comin' back."

"...and?"

"Granny's comin' back, Jacks."

He spread them one last time before hiding them underneath the cloak. It really fit well.

"...stop talkin' out of ye fl— oh haystacks."

"Eeeyup."

Feather of Days Past ~ The Old and New

by Dennet

Hurricane of Pink and Purple

Aileron Leap

Apple-scented Raindrops

Whiff in the Prismatic Morning

Melody of Meek Windchimes

Gentle Flutter

Haze of Chalk and Onyx Dust

Breeze of For and Against