The Second Dream

by totallynotabrony

Make Your Mark: Winter Wishday, part 2

We were all at Hich's Grandma Figgy's house.

Izzy setting off confetti and handing out gifts early was definitely a breach of tradition, if I was reading the situation correctly. Hitch had already warned us that Grandma Figgy was very particular about holiday protocol.

“I’ll get some napkins to clean this up,” he said delicately, excusing himself. I could tell he was more heated than he let on.

Meanwhile, Izzy was further instigating. “This hot chocolate with three giant marshmallows per cup is great, but what do you say we do four?”

Kind of a lackluster followup to the excitement earlier. Figgy seemed fine with it, though, and added an extra one to her cup.

“Would you like to see Hitch’s colthood pictures?” Figgy asked me.

“Absolutely.”

Sensing something cute, as well as possibly a chance to mildly embarrass Hitch, the girls gathered around too, leaning over for a look as Figgy opened the album.

“Lookit his tiny sheriff costume!” Zipp laughed.

Hitch returned just then, less perturbed than I would have expected. “Normally this would be embarrassing, but it’s a Wishday tradition,” he said to me.

We continued going through pictures. Sunny was in a few of them, the two being childhood friends.

“As focused on tradition as you are, Hitch, I’m surprised you and Sunny didn’t end up an item,” Figgy said, chortling.

“Well, it is hard to resist the goth gf,” I said.

“You’re my wife,” Hitch pointed out.

He checked his watch, “Okay, it’s time for the next event. Everypony to the Cookie Cottage Crafting Creation Corner!”

“The what?” asked Figgy.

“The kitchen.”

Hitch kept being uptight about things. We were making gingerbread houses, I’m not sure how hard he needed to go on the details. I thought he was still bristling about Izzy’s earlier breach of tradition.

When I had a moment, I caught Figgy’s attention for a private chat. “Is Hitch like this every Chri-er, Wishday?”

“Every one,” she confirmed. “Let him have it, dear, he’s so selfless the rest of the year.”

“Fair enough.”

“And he’s already breaking out of his normal and routine,” she said, giving me a wink and pinching my cheeks.

We finished up making the gingerbread houses. By now, the sky was fully dark and the snow hadn’t stopped.

“Goodness, perhaps you all had better stay the night,” Figgy suggested, peering out the window.

It was Sunny’s turn to hold the neurotic stick-to-the-plan ball. “But we’ll never make it to everywhere else we need to be today!”

“Do y’wanna go out into a blizzardy night in that old tram or stay here by the fire until the morning?” Pipp pointed out, making a lot of sense for once.

The question ended up being rhetorical, as regardless of what Sunny thought, the rest of us elected to stay.

We had dinner, eating the stew I had made earlier in the day. As everyone began to settle in for the night, there weren’t nearly enough beds, but fortunately Figgy had lots of blankets. Hitch and I laid down on the living room floor beside the fireplace.

No holiday was ever perfect, but it was sure better than being alone.

A good place to post Nismo Rose's art

---

In the morning, we got ready to go in the Marestream. Figgy saw us off. “Stay warm, fly safe!”

The snow hadn’t stopped all night. It was a little lighter now, but we still had to dump a lot of it off the roof of the tram.

“I know we spent a little longer there than we had planned,” Sunny began as Zipp took her place at the controls and the Marestream lifted shakily into the air, “but maybe if we try really hard we could get back to some form of schedule.”

“Got you. Full speed ahead!” Zipp said.

The Marestream coughed and banged, but nothing else seemed to change.

“Ugh, okay, same speed ahead.”

We were on our way to Bridlewood next. Izzy asked for a course correction to go by her house first. I could see Sunny visibly grimace at yet more detours.

We got there…well, eventually. Zipp set the Marestream down in Izzy’s front yard. We all disembarked to stretch our legs. The wind whistling through the rickety tram for the whole ride was bone-numbing, but Figgy had sent cocoa with us, and we’d all dressed warmly.

“That’s a lot more than a few flakes,” Pipp noted as she glanced around the snow buildup.

Just then, a pine bough emptied its load of snow directly over her, burying Pipp.

I made sure she was okay, and then when she wasn’t looking, posted the video.

Izzy came out of her house. “Surprise! Hoof-knitted scarves for all of you!”

She must have worked hard on them. Mine was red. I suddenly wondered if she was angling to decorate me like a Christmas Tree since I already had the green down.

Billy started chewing on his. I wondered what the material was, if it was wool or whatever, and decided I’d rather not know if sheep were people.

We started to head into town from Izzy’s house. Since she hadn’t been home much, spending a lot of time in Maretime Bay, the thicket of trees had started to encroach on the path.

Not paying attention, looking at my phone, I didn’t notice my scarf get caught on a branch until I was stopped short by a little bit of light strangulation around the neck.

“Here, I’ll get it,” Hitch said. He picked the scarf out of the trees and started to wind it back up for me. It was wrapped around my neck several times and given I was taller than him he eventually just gave up and made a gesture for me to turn in place.

I complied. “Oh yeah, Hitch, rotate me like one of your gas station hot dogs.”

He made the usual face, the one where he wasn’t quite sure what I had said, but wasn’t sure if it was fit for public.

We made it through the woods without further incident and arrived in the Bridlewood town square. The huge central tree was decorated with lights and there was some kind of little market going on, every stall selling festive trinkets and treats. Some kids were building a snowpony.

“This looks so pretty, Iz!” said Pipp. “They really went all out.”

“Yeah, it's a unicorn thing!” Izzy said. “Wishiehoof is a day of fun, friendship, and frolicking! We are very serious about our frolicking.”

She escorted us over to the tree, which the whole community was decorating with personal ornaments. Izzy opened a box, taking out her own intended to hang.

“Is that what I think it is?” Hitch asked.

“If you're asking if my ornament for the tree is the tree, then... yep! I'm gonna put the tree on the tree, how funny is that?” Izzy laughed. Sure enough, the ornament she had decorated had a picture of the tree she was going to hang it on.

“Now, to hang it up - oh wait, is that Alphabittle?” Izzy said, getting distracted.

Sure enough, that was him over at one of the vendors, sipping tea.

“Alphabittle Blossomforth!” Izzy called, starting over.

“His last name is Blossomforth?” I murmured to myself.

I watched from a distance as Izzy apparently challenged Alphabittle to a game, knowing he would bet on anything. Perhaps it was charades, the way she gesticulated wildly. Anyway, she lost in seconds, and handed over her ornament.

“Well that was fun,” she said, rejoining our group. Alphabittle came with her.

“Your special ornament,” Sunny lamented.

“Oh, it’s okay! You know what they say, anything worth doing is worth doing, twice.” Izzy pulled out another, identical one.

“You made two?” Alphabittle said, incredulously.

“Don’t you always prepare for losing spontaneous games of charades?” said Izzy.

“Here I thought you were giving him the gift of winning a game and the gift of an ornament because he might not have made his own,” I said. “But then you just reveal the gig right in front of him. Even if holiday gifts are a constructed social grace, they work because we all play by the rules, pretend to have made the effort, and pretend to be surprised and grateful. Paste on a fake smile and don’t reveal too much. The bar is so low it’s practically a tripping hazard in Hell, yet here you are limboing with the Devil.”

Izzy laughed. Alphabittle looked at me as if just then remembering some of the negative encounters he’d had with me in the past and decided to move along.

DDR sore loser punk.

As he departed, several rabbits with horns hopped over. Bunnycorns, if I remembered correctly. Hitch helped Izzy translate for their squeaking. On the spot, she knitted tiny little scarves for their horns.

I frowned to myself, getting lost briefly in the whole idea of scarves for horns. Related, I mentally added condoms to the shopping list for when we got back.

Comments

[Rainy_Skies]

Oh?
I was kinda hoping to learn more about Hitch with the holidays, oh well.

Also that art is very cute. However, it doesn't scream sarcastic goth bat, so I am a little disappointed.

[Nismo Rose]

A good place to post Nismo Rose's art

EEEEEEEEEEE!!!! It’s my art! ^^ derpicdn.net/img/2013/7/31/387654/medium.gif

[Nismo Rose]

11908158
lol maybe next time, it’s a very old drawing

[Cr33p3r]

Wouldn't she be a witch wife?

[totallynotabrony]

11908158
There wasn't much more in the source material, but noted.

[Hannah Nelson]

This story is great!