//------------------------------// // Settling In // Story: Returning Home // by ferret //------------------------------// It turns out their mystery mare wasn’t mean or ornery, or spiteful towards Applejack. She was downright giddy to see her, when Applejack showed up to teach her the ropes about Ponyville! “Oh wow, Applejack!” she said, as bubbly as a brook upon seeing Applejack. She’d been at Sugarcube Corner, trying to help the Cakes with some bags of sugar, apparently, but stopped as soon as she saw Applejack stroll in, stumbling over her hooves as if this mare wasn’t even sure how to walk over that way. “It’s really you!” the rosy pink haired mare said, with big blue eyes, “I am such a huge fan. Do you really own four orchards? Are they south of town? Oh, I hope they’re south of town. I practically memorized that map.” “Y-yeah, but uh... you’re a fan of... mah apple farming?” Applejack asked, her face twisted in confusion as she hadn’t even introduced herself to the mare yet. “Not exactly the most glamorous of occupations, though I cain understand you lovin’ the end product.” The mare blushed heavily then, and stuttered out, “S-s-sorry, yeah I didn’t mean to be rude. It’s just that the gang’s all here, right?” She looked at the door to the kitchen, saying thoughtfully, “Only pony I haven’t met so far is Fluttershy.” “Oh, yew mean like the Elements,” Applejack said, with a little more understanding in her. “Shucks, if you know anything about the half dozen of us, you’ll know how slow Fluttershy is to warm to ponies. Almost never comes into town if not for our sakes. Kinda chummy with Rarity on the side.” Striding up and chucking the mare in the shoulder, Applejack said sagely, “You best not try to hunt her down. If you wanna meet her, let her come at you, at her own pace. Ah sure ain’t here to drag you over to Fluttershy’s. Ah’m here to get you all settled at town hall, so you’ll be an honorary Ponyvillian!” “Sure, okay!” little pink-hair said happily. “Let me just tell the Cakes, and then, lead the way!” Applejack might have missed the theatrics, but the second morning of this mare’s recovery was pure joy, really seeing the town for the first time, with such a childlike sense of wonder in her eyes. Once her soreness faded to manageable levels, the mare’s unquenchable optimism was downright contagious. She walked out into that grey day, on wobbly legs, going way too slowly for Applejack’s tastes. She looked at the dismal weather, the chilly morning, and all the ordinary houses, whose eves were weighed down with snow, and said, with complete sincerity, “This is so beautiful! ” “Gawk later, farm girl,” Applejack told the pretty pink thing, in one of the most ironic statements she’d ever uttered, “We need to get you a tab, and some clothes of your own, before Rarity decides to bequeath her whole boutique to ya out of sheer force’a pity.” “A-alright,” the mare said hesitantly, looking down at the thick, very blue woolen scarf wrapped around her neck, and looking down at her hooves. She deliberately stepped forward on them, raising her gaze as she did so to follow along after Applejack. Rosy’s ability to do something simple as walking was clumsy, but adequate. Applejack didn’t even want to think what’d happen if Rosy tried a canter, or a trot. Applejack, the real farm pony, led this bedazzled mare carefully down to town hall, wondering how somepony could be so awestruck about some backwater village, that she’d look like a pony who just jumped off the turnip truck. Stranger things had happened, but it was kind of an odd reaction to Ponyville. Most outsiders couldn’t see just how beautiful Ponyville really was, and only saw it for what it wasn’t, which was fancy and sophisticated. Now, Applejack had a good idea that there was some supernatural jiggery pokery about this mare, but she really didn’t grasp the sheer scale of it, until she spent some time with her. Not only was this mare a fan of Applejack and the other Elements, she seemed to have an uncanny knowledge about the lot of them, when she let something slip that is. She was real close-lipped about it, for some reason! Like a for-instance, Applejack was trying to give the mare a little something to tell her friends back home, about the real ponies behind the hype, saying as they walked, “Now Rarity’s a pony of sophistication, but ponies think that’s all there is to her. She knows how to get dirty when the going gets tough. If’n she had to put away all her frippery and finery to save the day, what do you think she’d say? Sorry, I’m too snooty to be a hero? I think ah hear mah oven on?” “I love being covered in mud?” the mare retorted with a wry grin. Applejack almost stumbled, before saying, “I— yeah... exactly that.” She hadn’t ever told nopony about what went down over that debacle between her, Rarity, and somepony who didn’t deserve Rarity. Only ponies who saw that... tiff between them were Rarity herself and... and the dragon, Spike, who was even less likely to repeat something untoward about Rarity than Rarity was. Applejack had thought it was a secret. “I did try going to town hall,” the mare told a thought lost Applejack, as they approached the large, columnar building, “But I couldn’t read the signs... I didn’t know where to go in there.” “You couldn’t read the signs?” Applejack asked, looking back at the pink and cream pony. “You need spectacles or somethin’?” The mare blushed and said, “No, it’s just that I don’t know how to... read.” Now Applejack had stopped, and was staring at the mare head-on. “You sure you’re not an enchanted lil’ foal?” Applejack asked skeptically, as ponies on the street parted to walk around the two of them. “What?” the mare responded cluelessly. “Pinkie had this notion that you were a lil’ foal, who got enchanted to be a grownup pony,” Applejack said in a calculating tone. “You sure do walk like one, and you don’t know how to read?” “O-oh,” the mare realized, her blush deepening for a moment as she looked at Applejack beseechingly. “No, I can read my language, I think,” the mare said nervously, calming as she spoke, “But yours is really ...different. My verse had a different language than yours, that’s all. Twilight told you about the verse... thing right? It’s like another world.” “Sugarcube,” Applejack told her disapprovingly, “You just told me that you don’t speak mah language, in mah language. ” The mare started to answer, but she paused a mite, and then asked in honest curiosity, “Wait, what language are we speaking?” Applejack had to blink at that. How do you speak a language, without even knowing what language it is? “Equish?” she offered to the nervous mare, but no recognition shone in her eyes. “Look ah dunno about this foreigner stuff, especially from weird magicky places,” Applejack said, a bit frustrated. “You oughta ask somepony who knows about it. For all ah know, maybe it’s normal that a pony from another country speaks like us, but writes different.” “It makes sense though,” the mare countered, staring at her hoof thoughtfully. “They always used illegible writing in the show.” “What show?” Applejack asked. The mare looked up, and blushed at that. “Oh um... nothing special I mean... it’s a long story. I just have a different written language than you,” she said sort of sketchily, “But we have the same spoken language. I ...think.” “Now fancy that,” Applejack said noncomittally. “Sounds like the sorta thing you oughta tell Twilight. She probably wants to know all about your other country, and let me tell you she loves the little details like that.” “Not such a little detail,” the mare grumbled mostly to herself, but quickly said to Applejack, “Okay, so I just need some help reading, if you wouldn’t mind.” “Can’t say I do mind, but you’re gonna have to learn to read y’know, if’n you’re staying with us any amount of time,” Applejack told her cautiously. “Ah cain’t promise that you’re gonna get a chance to go home any time soon, so you might wanna get workin’ on that. For now, let’s just get you a tab, and get you set up with some supplies.” “What’s a tab, anyway?” the mare asked innocently. “Is that like, credit?” “Yeah, it’s a... list like, of the good deeds you done, and what was done for ya,” Applejack said. “Whenever you help somepony, they can take it to town hall and vouch for you. That way you can be sure you’re not helpin’ somepony who is playin’ you for a rube.” The mare seemed surprised at this, so Applejack put a hoof on her shoulders, saying, “Don’t you worry none. Ponies’ll help you quite a bit, before anypony starts gettin’ worried about it. An’ there’ll be plenty for you to do pretty soon, when we wrap up winter around these parts. C’mon then, and let’s get you situated!” “Alright Apple... Applejack,” the mare said somewhat reverently. “If you ponies can pull this off, that’s just incredible!” “Just ...come along now,” Applejack said uncertainly, embarassed enough to hide her eyes under the brim of her hat. But for what, she just wasn’t entirely sure. Getting into town hall was easy enough. Not too busy this early before lunch. But Applejack observed yet another peculiar exchange here, that the mare had with the recordspony. The conservatively blue recordsmare, with her mane in a little white bun, asked this pinkish haired mare a few questions, starting with, “What is your name?” The mare fidgeted in place then, looking more like she was staring at a lion than a pony on the other side of a desk. “I don’t really... have one,” she admitted anxiously. A wordless pause, and she clarified, “I don’t have a name.” “Yes, yes, I can see that, miss,” the recordspony replied sensibly enough, looking down at her completely empty form. “But you need a name for identification purposes, so...” “So...?” the mare responded in a desperate whine. “So, what is your name?” the recordsmare repeated, a little aggravated at this confusingly spookable pony. “I told you. I don’t have one,” the other mare pleaded, sounding equally distressed with the notion. Applejack wasn’t sure what was wrong with this mare, but it had to be some kind of cultural thing with her other country and all, and the silent standoff continued for entirely too many moments, before recordsmare asked in vague desperation, “Aren’t you going to... pick a name?” The mare blinked, wide eyed, and blurted out, “I can do that?!” She blushed then, and lifted up her hoof nervously as the recordspony said in wry confusion, “Well... yes. How else are you gonna get a name? I’m sorry, but our town needs everypony to have a name on record, miss. No name, no tab. Would you like some time to think of one?” “Y-yeah I... I— I, um, thanks,” the mare said taking an unsteady step back from the desk. “No problem miss,” the recordspony said, giving her a worried look. “Just don’t delay too long. It’s pretty cold out there. Now could you step aside and make room for the next pony?” The mare did, and stumbled up to Applejack seeming all ways of addlepated. “I—sorry I didn’t know you could just pick a name,” she said apologetically. “I lost our place in line, I...” “Don’t worry ‘bout it,” Applejack told her gently. “Ah guess you didn’t have names in your old country? It’s dead simple. You just think up something you’d like ponies to call you, and they start callin’ you that. Like a word or phrase that describes ya.” “I know what a name is,” the mare said in annoyance. “Well, okay then!” Applejack half shouted, feeling a little vexed herself at this point. This wasn’t supposed to be complicated. “Let’s just try to think up a few idears, see if you like any of ‘em,” she said patiently, “Based on your color maybe?” “I didn’t think I got to pick, gosh... that makes a lot of sense, actually,” the mare said incredulously. “So um... I can change it, right?” “If ponies get to know you by one name, it can be a hassle, but yeah?” Applejack said to the flowry pink haired mare, as best as she could advise this sort of thing. “Ah suppose you cain change it, before the old one sticks. You gotta pick a name you really like, though. Color names are pretty common round these parts, not all that distinctive though. How about... ah dunno, Pink Rose?” “...is that an apple?” the mare asked suspiciously. “Are you an Apple?” Applejack shot back, trying not to glare at her. At least the mare got what Applejack was implying then, blushing and looking away, saying, “Right, sorry. Rosy is fine.” “Rosy, not Rose?” Applejack asked curiously, but the mare only blushed harder, and stammered, “W–whatever works.” So all that hubbub over a name, and the mare went with the first one Applejack tossed out there? She musta had some strange naming conventions in her old country. Applejack knew a name as something important, and you had to put a lot of thought into what you wanted ponies to call yourself, but this mare seemed to just want something for ponies to call her. She barely wanted to consider any other possibilities. But for better or for worse, Rosy Pink made a clumsy X in the visitor registry, by the spot where Applejack wrote her name in for her. At least X was written the same, for both of them. With town hall out of the way, Applejack and the newly christened Rosy Pink took their temporary voucher on down through the town. Traffic was starting to pick up as lunchtime reared its ugly head, and Applejack was feeling a bit peckish herself, but she said she’d help with this simple task, and she was gonna do it. The mare—well, Rosy, Applejack supposed—was a lot less anxious now that they got that paperwork all done with. She was a curious sort, asking about everything from weather to pony politics. “Shucks, Manehattan?” Applejack had been joking to the mare. “Let me tell you you’re lucky you showed up in Ponyville. Hatters don’t know the first thing about frugality. Why, ah don’t even think they got a tack shop in the whole city! That’s where we’re headed next!” “We need to pick up some tacks?” the mare asked in a puzzled manner. “No, the supply and tack!” Applejack corrected with a wink. “It’s over by Barnyard Bargains. They got a clearance rack; you cain get yourself somethin’ there for not much at all, until you get yourself back on your hooves. It won’t be pretty, but it’ll be functional an’ that’s what you need.” The mare was quite impressed when they entered the store. “It’s like a hardware store!” she said brightly, looking around at the supplies, “Except for hors—for ponies!” “Well who else would it be for, sheep?” Applejack said amusedly, “’cause sheep don’t know the first thing about saddlery.” “What do sheep know?” the mare asked so innocently. She didn’t even know simple stuff like that! “Eatin’ and sleepin’ mostly,” Applejack said offhoovedly, “You should try talkin’ to one sometime, see how far you get before you’re bored to tears.” Rosy seemed a bit thrown off by that for some reason, like mare didn’t know what to say. She turned her pink mopped little head, looking around the store and murmuring, “I don’t know what we’re here for, exactly.” “Somethin’ to keep you warm!” Applejack said smartly, trotting over to the clearance rack. “And don’t you worry about raisin’ your tab a little. These things would be sold for scrap if nopony wanted them, so they’re real cheap.” Rosy finally figured it out once she had carefully walked up to where Applejack was waiting for her. She took a look at the items on the rack and said, “Oh... saddle blankets.” “Well, you cain wear a saddle if ya wanna get fancy,” Applejack replied. “But most ponies just hold it on with a belt if they ain’t got a passenger.” “A—wait...” she said in a totally flabbergasted tone, turning and staring at Applejack open mouthed. “Who... rides on ponies?” “Animals and foals mostly?” Applejack said, cringing at yet another one of this mare’s weird reactions to completely normal things. “Usually somepony’s foal. It ain’t exactly common t’carry animals, but there’s saddles and carry cases for when you do. You gotta have a well trained critter, if you want ‘em to be able to ride on your bare back.” She grumbled under her breath, with a bit of dissatisfaction, “Well, unless you’re Rainbow ‘Iron Pony’ Dash...” “...didn’t catch that last part,” Rosy said. “Nothin’” Applejack replied, turning down her hat. “Now what’s it gonna be? They’re one size fits all.” “Oh, um...” the mare looked down at the rack, touching it tentatively with a hoof to then more confidently slide the hangers around. “It looks like I have a choice between brown, and... brown.” Applejack blinked at her, and then said a little irritably, “Ah meant the linin’.” When the mare didn’t seem to understand, Applejack just pulled the one with the tighter weave out, saying, “Here, this’n’s a tighter weave.” “Oh, thanks,” she said with a nervous smile, “So I just um... take it in my hoof?” Sighing, Applejack folded the blanket and tossed it on her own rear, balancing it between the saddlebags she always wore around shopping time. “Let’s just go check out,” Applejack said wearily. To be perfectly honest, Applejack was starting to get tired of this mare’s waifish curiosity. Was she a filly, or a grown mare? She didn’t seem like neither one! When Applejack showed her to the welfare shelter, the mare wasn’t acting disappointed or jaded. She acted like she was a filly in a candy shop. At the shelter! “I can stay here?” she said, shifting excitedly on her hooves at the pastel, pleasantly heated but very plain interior. “You actually have a place for ponies? This is so incredible! I’ve never stayed at a homeless shelter before. Can I help? How does it work?” “You talk to the overseer,” Applejack said curtly, “An’ she gives you a bed. I dunno the details. Ah dunno if you cain help or whatnot, but this’ll give you a place to sleep until you get back on your hooves.” Rosy Pink nodded solemnly, and Applejack smiled, saying, “Good enough time as any for me to find out, I suppose. I’ll walk you in, make sure you’re set up, but then I gotta git. Chores don’t wait for nopony, y’hear.” “Thanks, I’d really appreciate it,” Rosy said with a half smile. “I think I know even less about it than you do.” Nodding, Applejack led the way, while Rosy hesitantly clipclopped after. The building had a pretty nice lobby, with a desk for the receptionist to sit at, with brightly colored streamers connecting from it. There were some couches around the walls, for anypony waiting to talk to somepony to sit on, with some giggly noises coming from behind them. Applejack took the lead, trotting in and looking around. There were a few glows in the ceiling providing pretty good light all around, excepting where the balloons hanging from the ceiling cast shadows on the walls. There was no receptionist at the desk at all at the moment, only a pretty, triple layer cake with a swirly blue and pink frosting on it. “Surprise!” shrieked Pinkie Pie, scaring Applejack half out of her wits as Pinkie and several other ponies erupted from behind chairs and couches, with party hats on and noise blowers going. After jumping out from hiding behind the cake... somehow, Pinkie dropped off the desk and said with a look of hurt confusion to the farm pony, “Applejack?! You weren’t supposed to come in first!” “Oh, I’m surprised!” Rosy called out from behind Applejack, “Honest!” “You an’ your surprise parties,” Applejack said teasingly, knocking the pink pony in the elbow. “Well don’t just stand there, everypony,” Pinkie said to the crowd as Applejack trotted past her. “Let’s party!!” Sometime earlier, Pinkie Pie hurried out of Sugarcube Corner, with her party supply wagon in tow. She already had the cakes baking, each one a delicious chocolate crumb, but now she only had half a day to get the party together. She stopped at the Streamer Emporium to stock up on rolls of streamers and bows, a big bag of confetti, and a bag of freshly homemade balloons. Then she went to table rentals and got a number of portable tables. Juniper’s Japery for the noise blowers and party hats, and Soft Glow’s for the candles. Pinkie didn’t know how many candles as technically it was this pony’s first year in Equestria as a pony and that was kind of like a birthday, but she figured she could improvise. Hurrying down to the shelter, Pinkie didn’t spare a glance at the wide porch of the large cottage before trotting in, announcing, “Guess what!” The receptionist there a green, white haired pony named If You May looked up on Pinkie’s arrival, her eyes lighting on Pinkie’s wagon hitch as Pinkie stood half in the door to the lobby. “You wanna throw a party?” May said curiously. “There’s a mare coming to stay here, who just came to Equestria for the very first time, and the very first city she visited was Ponyville!” Pinkie responded. “Well, that’s interesting news,” May said, adjusting her spectacles. “She a nice mare?” “She’s really nice, but she’s kind of quiet and shy,” Pinkie said, “But not like Fluttershy. She isn’t afraid to talk to ponies! I think it’ll be really superrific if she stays here, and something tells me you won’t regret it!” “Great!” May responded cheerfully, “What’s her name, do you know?” “Er... she said she didn’t have one yet, so she’s gonna go pick one out at Town Hall,” Pinkie said. “So this is also her naming party!” “Huh... how old is she?” May asked a bit skeptically. “She’s a bit younger than me, but she isn’t a filly, but she just came from a faraway strange land where ponies didn’t have names,” Pinkie explained. “Anyway I only have an afternoon to set up, so if you’ll excuse me for a sec I’ll just dump these supplies off and go check on the treats!” May gleefully smiled at that, saying, “Gosh Pinkie, I always love your parties here. You gonna invite a lot of ponies?” “Sure!” Pinkie replied, “Anypony who I think might be a good friend for her!” “So... everypony in Ponyville,” May countered dryly. “I’m not that bad anymore,” Pinkie whined. “Maybe just half of everypony in Ponyville.” Leaving May with a smile on her face, Pinkie went zipping back to Sugarcube Corner, and took out the cakes to cool. She put in the afternoon orders for the bakery itself, and started on the icing. Egg whites, powdered sugar, some glycerin, some extracts (vanilla, almond and orange!), and a whole lot of beating that Pinkie let the stand mixer take care of. Then, she went to the pantry where they had a bunch of different cake fillings. She unsealed three raspberry jellies and piled those in between the two cake halves, making a double layer. Then she rolled out three quick sheets of marzipan, blanketing the cake under it and conforming it to the underlying shape. Now it was time for the icing! Pinkie’s favorite thing was to add the food coloring almost at the very end, so that the icing ended up all swirly with color. She separated it into three bowls, one for pink, one for blue, and one for maroon. Slight swirl in each, her spatula skillfully scooped out the icing and spread it all over the cakes. And finally, she piped on the cake in bright blue and yellow, “Welcome,” “To Ponyville” and left the middle blank, for filling in the pony’s new name. Leaving that to rest, Pinkie took the afternoon stuff out of the ovens, basted and filled each of the pastries and flipped them onto cooling racks. The Cakes would take it from there. Then Pinkie zipped back to the welfare shelter, to scope out the situation. So it looked like Berryshine was here with her daughter again. There was a gardener called Mr. Greenhooves, who had a hard time finding work when it was reeeally cold out, a unicorn from Vanhoover who hadn’t been here long enough to get a decent reputation, Lazy Eye Billie who was just kind of weird so other ponies didn’t like being around her. Nopony scary or dangerous or anything, not that those types tended to migrate in the direction of Ponyville. Nope, dangerous ponies who were down on their luck were hard to come by around here. Now, highly competent and skilled dangerous ponies, those were dime-a-dozen! After pinning the streamers all around the room, and inflating the balloons, Pinkie went around town on her way back, and invited a bunch of ponies over for a super secret surprise party that would have streamers and balloons and cake and hot chocolate and marshmallows and games and cake. She invited Roseluck and her friends, and Cherry Spices and Cherry Berry and Lyra Heartstrings and her friends, and Cranky Doodle but he said no, and Owloyscious but he said hoo, and with everypony headed that way, Pinkie stopped in at Sugarcube Corner, asking the Cakes if they would come too, and then working for the rest of the hour selling treats to ponies in the front. Finally, Pinkie Pie loaded up the big swirly tasty cake in her wagon, along with a container of crumbled chocolate and sugar mix, and a big bag of puffed marshmallows, and sped on down to the shelter, where the ponies already there were helping finish her decorations. Pinkie made sure to thank each and every one of them as she set up the treats, and heated up a big pot of water for steeping the hot chocolate in. When they heard Applejack and the mare headed this way, everypony hid behind things, and Pinkie scrunched down behind the reception desk, right behind the big central cake. Then, she leaped out, and shouted, “Surprise!” coming face to face with ...Applejack? “Applejack?!” Pinkie whined, her forelegs drooping limply. “You weren’t supposed to come in first!” So despite that fluff up, the party was super terrifically awesome, but of course! Who was planning it? Was it Pinkie Pie? Was Pinkie Pie planning the party? Yes, she was! There were snacks and games and party favors, and music playing on a trusty old phonograph that the mare was entirely too fascinated with. Rosy was her name, it turns out! Rosy Pink! It was the shade of her mane, which was lots lighter than Pinkie Pie’s mane, which actually wasn’t pink even though ponies thought it was, because the rest of Pinkie Pie was pink. But as soon as Pinkie Pie heard that name, she hurried to the cake and took the bag of gel frosting, writing out “R o s y P i n k” in bright blue letters atop the swirly, buttery, creamy cake frosting. Rosy thanked her for that, but... her heart didn’t seem to be into it, but it also was? It was a strange thank you, as if Rosy was confused, but happy. “You’re silly, you know that?” Pinkie Pie said to the mare, adjusting Rosy’s party hat that Rosy didn’t seem to know how to get on right. “How are you enjoying the party? Do you like the cake? It’s raspberry!” Rosy took a fond look at the swirly colored slice of cake that somepony had generously helped onto a plate for her, saying, “It’s delicious! And these puffy things, with the cream in them? What are those?” Pinkie blinked, looked at Rosy’s plate, and said curiously, “You mean cream puffs?” Rosy slowly but surely planted her forehead on the edge of the table she was standing at. “Right, of course,” she grumbled, giving the puffs another wary look, before turning her blue eyes to meet Pinkie’s. “I haven’t actually ever had a cream puff before,” Rosy explained with an apologetic smile, “But it was really tasty. How does it... puff up like that?” “Well... it’s pretty amazing actually. You don’t even need baking soda! Just eggs and water, and it works great!” Pinkie said happily. “Well, the cream part has pudding in it, but that gets squirted in later.” The mare looked at the bits of cream left with a much more worried look on her face. Turning to Pinkie she said nervously, “Uh, so... how do you make... pudding?” Pinkie blinked back, a little worried now herself and said, “You just beat together some eggs and sugar, and mix it in with the tapioca? I usually use dried egg whites, because you can mix everything but the milk that way, and it comes out really smooth. But why are you worried?” “Oh, just... sorry I shouldn’t be worried, um...” the mare looked over her selection thoughtfully. “I just heard at one point that both our diets were completely vegetarian.” “Huh,” Pinkie remarked, “That sort of sounds like that one song I sang that started a war.” She blushed, and added, “Iiit wasn’t a very big war, though.” “For the record, I liked the song,” the mare said, inhaling more of her cake. “It wasth... creative.” “You don’t have to say that just to be nice,” Pinkie said with a wince, “I know it was pretty awful.” “No really,” the mare insisted, leaning towards Pinkie earnestly, “Ith ushed... hol on,” She chewed until her mouth was clear enough and said, “It used the word ‘vegetarian.’ I don’t know of any song that rhymes with vegetarian.” “Oh, I got stuck on that part, so I just sort of um... skipped rhyming,” Pinkie admitted with a wince. “Really?” the mare asked, blinking. “I thought you did?” Pinkie Pie looked up and thought back, tapping her hoof to the beat as she recalled, “Something something both our diets are completely vegetarian~ we all eat hay and oats, why be at each other’s throats?” “Wow, that... that doesn’t rhyme vegetarian at all, you’re right,” Rosy said rubbing at her chin. “I guess I just forgot, after all this time...” “I think my best song was the Smile Song,” Pinkie said fondly. “Because I love to see ponies smile!” Her smile faltered and Pinkie had to look aside though, because she admitted, “I’m not so good at singing though, so I try not to sing all that much.” Her boisterous confidence returned as she was happy to say, “No, what I’m good at is parties, and baking!” “Yeah,” Rosy said with a wry laugh, “Nothing like Fluttershy.” “You betcha,” Pinkie agreed. “Between you and me,” she leaned close to whisper, “Fluttershy’s cooking is terrible!” Rosy had a genuine laugh at that, saying, “I don’t think I ever saw her cook! “...or eat,” Rosy added in a more concerned tone. Pinkie... really didn’t know what to say about that. “What?” she tried. Rosy looked up from her plate, blushing, saying, “O-oh nothing, it’s just that the um... show about you, it never showed Fluttershy eating, at first. Everyone started thinking she was a changeling, until finally they showed her eating some pancakes.” “A changeling? ” Pinkie exclaimed in shock. “Oh that’s not even the craziest theories people have about you six,” Rosy whispered conspiratorially, “The craziest one about you is that people started telling stories of an eeevil mare who fooled everyone into thinking she was a nice pony, but secretly she was making other ponies... into cupcakes!” “Cupcakes?” Pinkie asked, her ears tilting down a bit. “What do you mean?” Rosy glanced at Pinkie, and scrunched her muzzle, saying “N-never mind, it’s just a spooky story. I’ll tell it to you if we ever end up at a campfire.” “Well okay silly, but I’ll hold you to that,” Pinkie said with a snarky grin. “It’s seriously not that bad,” Rosy said nervously, “I know the RDP version anyway, which might even have you laughing, even though it’s still spooky.” “Giggle at the ghostly, as I always like to say~” Pinkie said more cheerily, while Rosy leaned forward for another mouthful of cake. “That is so true,” Rosy said enthusiastically around her cake. “Ith imposhible to be—” she paused, chewed, and swallowed. “It’s impossible to be scared of a scary story, if someone goes and makes fun of it!” “Really?” Pinkie asked, not sure that was what she meant, by putting scary things in perspective. She admittedly couldn’t think of any counter-examples, but that couldn’t literally be true, could it? “I swear it’s true,” Rosy insisted, “Some stories, I was so scared of, and then someone went and spoofed them, and showed how silly they could be. And suddenly I wasn’t scared at all!” “Wow, I think you might be right!” Pinkie replied hopefully. “It’s not just you laughing at the spooks, but seeing them as funny that makes them not scary! But what if it really is dangerous?” “Hm?” Rosy said, giving Pinkie a thoughtful look. “I guess it’s kind of like the boy who cried wolf then, so it could be dangerous not to be scared of things...” “The boy who cried wolf?” Pinkie declared. “What on earth is that ?” “It’s a story,” Rosy said, pretty much done with her cake now, just a bit of frosting left to lick off her lips. “About a um... a pony, who had to take care of a bunch of sheep. But he was really lazy and kind of mean, so he ran into town shouting that there were wolves hunting the sheep, and the other ponies went and penned the sheep up, and he didn’t have to watch them that day. “Then, the next time he had to take care of the sheep, he did it again. He was supposed to be watching for wolves, but even when there weren’t any, he pretended there were, to scare all the sheep back into the pen. And—oh.” Rosy fell silent then, and Pinkie waited, but the pastel mare didn’t say anything else. “Then what happened?” Pinkie prompted desperately. “I–I think I know why you haven’t heard this story,” Rosy said, backing up a step from the table. “Sorry it’s just... it has a really bad ending. I forgot how it went... I never thought that... ugh, sorry.” “It’s okay, silly. You don’t have to finish if you’re not comfortable with it,” Pinkie said laying a hoof on Rosy’s shoulder. “My favorite stories are happy stories, too! I bet they all had a big party, and worked out their differences together so that everypony was happy!” “Yeah, that’s... that’s what happened,” Rosy said unconvincingly. She didn’t look happy still! Pinkie leaned in, with a wide eyed look at Rosy’s stubborn mouth. Wait for it. Waait for it. “What are you doing?” Rosy laughed, backing up another step. “Finding your smile!” Pinkie replied happily, as Rosy touched her own cheek with her hoof, a cheek that was genuinely smiling. “They say there’s always a smile hiding in the corners of your mouth,” Rosy said agreeably. “Not many ponies actually go looking for it, though!” “Well that’s just silly, silly,” Pinkie replied cheekily. “I find lots of smiles all over the mouth!” “You keep calling me silly, but I think you’re the one who’s silly!” the mare accused in an amused tone. Pinkie nodded enthusiastically, saying, “Yup. Silly’s my middle name! Pinkie ‘Silly’ Pie!” “I thought it was Diane?” the mare quipped at her. Pinkie was rearing up to follow up with a joke, but she stopped then. She settled her two front hooves to the floor. That uneasy feeling welled up in her, as she tried to understand how the mare just said that. Turning away to only half face the mare, Pinkie said shakily, “I never told anypony that name, not ever.” The mare’s face fell at that, and she lifted a hoof, stuttering out, “O-oh I’m sorry I–I didn’t know it would bother you. What’s wrong with your middle name?” “Nothing’s wrong, but could you please pleeeease not tell anypony?” Pinkie entreated, hunching worriedly and glancing around at the partygoers. She didn’t think anypony heard. “I won’t get in trouble or anything,” Pinkie explained, “I just really really want to be just Pinkie Pie to everypony.” She would have told the mare why, but Pinkie didn’t really like to think about that, so she didn’t. “Oh I won’t,” the mare assured her, “I know how important that is. I would never, um...” The mare looked at Pinkie Pie for way too long, scoping her out, or thinking, or something. Pinkie didn’t know, because she wasn’t a mind reader. But maybe this mare was! Because then, the mare said steadily, “I Pinkie Promise that I won’t tell anypony, if you don’t want me to.” A smile leapt on Pinkie Pie’s face as she declared in delight, “You know about Pinkie Promises too??” The mare nodded, carefully smiling again and saying, “Cross my heart and hope to fly. Stick a cupcake in my...” the mare looked at her hoof in apprehension. “Uh...” “Eye,” Pinkie told her, sticking her own hoof in her eye to demonstrate. Pinkie’s remaining eye saw the mare look at her raised hoof worriedly though, saying, “Sorry, I’m just not good with these yet. I don’t want to actually poke my eye out.” “Good with what?” Pinkie asked curiously. “Hooves,” the mare muttered, lifting a hoof again, and sort of moving it around, like she was trying to take a step forward. The hoof was still downturned, rather than aimed at the eye. “Well, go ahead and take your time, then. I’m just gonna um... go check on the other partygoers,” Pinkie told the mare. Trotting off from Rosy’s staid stance beside one of the end tables, Pinkie found it hard to even focus on the other partygoers. Pinkie knew about the mare’s movie; Rosy had told her a little about it before getting her name, but Pinkie Pie hadn’t thought it would show... that. All the way back from when she was an itty bitty little twinkie Pinkie, back to... to when she moved to Ponyville? Pinkie didn’t want to think about it any more, so she found Mr. Greenhooves and talked to him about fertilizers and shrubberies, and all the things he loved, that crazy old mule. Pinkie didn’t watch Rosy or anything. She just watched her meet Fluttershy. Well, watched her not meet Fluttershy, rather. Fluttershy was waiting for Rosy over there by the wall away from the rest of the crowd, just like Pinkie had planned. Rosy was talking to lots of ponies, and Pinkie knew she looked dead directly at Fluttershy at one point. But Rosy just turned clumsily then, and went walking off in the opposite direction! So Pinkie wasn’t curious about Rosy or anything, but she sure was curious about her! Rosy knew... things, and she acted funny in a way that just didn’t make sense sometimes. She seemed like a really nice pony too, very polite and friendly, and genuinely smiling even at Pinkie’s jokes! Pinkie Pie knew a genuine smile when she saw one. She just... didn’t know how somepony could watch all their lives, and know them all as much as best friends already, and not go say hi to Fluttershy? Fluttershy didn’t seem upset by it though. She just smiled after the party, and told Pinkie Pie that Rosy could get to know her at her own pace. Some days later, Twilight Sparkle was reshelving some returned books while dusting the rafters of her tree library, when who should come to see her other than the mysterious dimensional traveller! Of her own will for that matter, not at anypony else’s prompting! Pinkie Pie had said she had a name, though Twilight didn’t recall what that name was at the moment. Twilight certainly recognized her, if nothing else for the mare’s strong resemblance to her old schoolmate Twinkleshine. Twilight laid the books she was working on back in their book cart, and trotted down the stairs to the pink haired, cream furred mare, who still had very blank thighs. The alien was walking forward as if in a daze, and looking around like she’d trotted into the Taj Marehal itself. Her blue eyes were wide and full, and her mouth was hanging open, forgotten in the excitement of the moment. She wasn’t even aware that Twilight was standing here, was she? “Welcome to the library!” Twilight announced in a level tone of voice, but still startled the alien pony, who jumped a foot back, then looked Twilight’s way with the most astonished expression on her face. “Word has it you settled on a name,” Twilight said congenially. “Are you here to check out a book? That’s something you can do, now that you have a town record! What kind of... uh... book are you looking... for?” Why wasn’t this mare responding to her? It was like she was dumbstruck with what to ask Twilight. “You need me to recommend some reading material...?” Twilight asked uneasily. “Your library!” the alien blurted out shrilly, “It’s still here! ” “Ssh,” Twilight said, folding her ears back at this strange mare’s excitement. “This is a library, so please: indoors voice.” “Oh, sorry,” the alien said more quietly, losing a bit of her starry eyed wonder as rational thought crept back into her head. “I thought your library was destroyed!” she whispered to Twilight. “Didn’t you say Tirek destroyed it?” “Well, he did heavily damage it,” Twilight replied. “But the roots remained alive. I don’t know what your alterniverse viewer revealed, but when Tirek was defeated by the Rainbow of Light, we were able to use its magic to undo much of the damage Tirek did. In particular, if you look over there, you can see one of the staircases is entirely crystelline. It’s a bit piecemeal, but I think it’s a beautiful effect, overall. You should see it in the summer. When the sunlight refracts in through the crystal wall section, it’s both beautiful, and useful light for reading by, while the green foliage provides plenty of shelter from direct sunlight.” “How long ago did Tirek attack...?” the alien asked distantly, still looking with awe at the almost perfectly ordinary treehouse full of books. “His attack was in the summer before last,” Twilight said cautiously. “Very recently, I know. It’s still fresh on a lot of pony’s minds, so you might want to be careful before bringing it up. Old wounds, you know.” “Recently...” she looked at Twilight quizzically, but then sighed and said, “Sure, okay.” “So, about your other verse,” Twilight asked eagerly. The mare only stiffened in response. “I’m very curious why you were sent here,” Twilight stated. “It might be an important clue for how to finish your quest and get you home.” “Finish my... quest?” said the mare nervously. Twilight smiled at her. “Yes, it might not seem like it, but you’re on a great adventure!” she said brightly. “Sometimes ponies or... humans who need a change in their lives will get sent to distant lands, where they can learn valuable life lessons about how important their home is.” “Well yes, but...” the alien trailed off, eyeing Twilight worryingly sideways. “You mean that literally, aren’t you.” “Well, I don’t mean to brag, but I have read several biographical accounts,” Twilight stated smugly. “I could look some of them up for you, if you like?” “Yeah, I... I really want to find out about this verse,” said the alien mare. “But I still can’t read your language, so... do you have an alphabet book or something?” Twilight was blushing so hard she thought she would die. “I’m so, so sorry,” she said hastily, putting a hoof on the mare’s shoulders. “I totally forgot that only your spoken language had changed with your form.” “Yeah, and it’s... really weird, when I pay attention to it,” she said, also blushing and half hiding behind a hoof. “It feels like I’m just speaking words, but this can’t possibly be a human language.” “What characterizes a human language?” Twilight asked curiously. “I’m not sure I can say, because I don’t... remember, exactly,” the human mare replied with difficulty. “I think it was more... hootey?” “Hootey?” “Yeah, hooty, like, beoouuuuuuwup!” the alien replied loudly. Then she blushed, looking around at other library patrons staring at her in irritation, covering her mouth and whispering, “Sorry!” “C’mon, let’s get you a basic foal’s reading book,” Twilight said, walking the creature toward the foal’s section. “It might help you understand your new manner of speech better, if you learn the basics of Equestrian grammar. And we can talk more about... hooting, I guess?” “It’s not too bad,” the alien said quietly, following the lilac princess. “At least I can breathe through my mouth.” “What do you mean?” Twilight asked in bewilderment. “In my verse, horses can’t breathe through their mouths,” the pink haired pony murmured back. “Any language they made would have to be composed entirely of humming.” Twilight cringed at the very idea.