//------------------------------//
// Bridle Gossip 
// Story: Revisiting Lessons 
// by Grey Rebl 
//------------------------------//

His name was Sam Cogley.

Sam’s family boasted an Irish origin that dated back over 200 years, but not to say their immediate history was insignificant. Not a day went by without Sam and his older brother at each other’s throats. The dad’s a lawyer in occupation and in household, mediating between the two in any way he could. But the mom was the most feared person in the household, cooking and cleaning like a gun nut to a rifle. From the way Sam described them, my brony friend loved them all to bits.

Sam was a scrawny, pale kid. He found Friendship is Magic by chance on the Hub among his favorites cartoons. Thanks to his parents, he practically lived off of TV. His family didn’t care, not when he occasionally talked about ponies at dinner, nor when he asked for a sticker of Rainbow Dash’s cutie mark to put on his phone case. Dash was his favorite, after all.

In Arkway Middle School, us bronies discussed our passion at lunch every single day without fail. He’s prey to my cringey 12-year old meme fuckery but...

“Friday, Friday, Friday! Motherfucker, it’s Friday!” I sang, setting my tray on the lunch table as I slid into my seat as if all the damns in the world just died. “Woooo! And it feels fucking good maaaan!”

Sam nodded and smiled, chewing a sandwich.

...the boy would just shrug it off. Every. Single. Time.

A terrible influence I was, Sam tolerated rather than react to my degeneracy. I had hoped for the “love” part of “love and tolerate” but his lackluster reactions discouraged me from further self-embarrassment...

But I knew another way to stir him up. From my tray, I slapped a dozen plastic baggies onto the table. “So, um...here. It’s shit, but I got you these, uh, cookies.”

“Stop giving me raisins!” Sam protested with his mouth full, “It’s funny the first few times, but it’s a waste of—”

“It’s chocolate.”

“Oh! Gimme!”

The plastic baggies ripped off, he carved large bites into the soft texture of chocolate chip goodness, chewing noisily as cocoa stuck to his teeth. He washed it down with orange juice—homemade, I noticed. Feeling thirsty myself, I sipped my milk.

“By the way... I've heard…things about you.” Sam hesitated, glancing about for anyone who’d overhear, which was silly. In the noisy cafeteria, it took confidence in one’s ears to overhear anything even a table away. “My classmates went crazy when they found out we’re friends. They think your name is, uh, cursed or something. Seriously, they call you the ‘Algebra Devil!’ What’s up with that?”

“Hrk!” I almost choked on my milk. “Shit, seriously? They still say that?”

“Uh, so what happened?”

“Okay, okay.. ” I set down my milk carton to tell my story. “It was weird. During math class a while back, our math teacher had us make equations for everyone else to solve. Thing is, I made the most problems for everyone!” I boasted proudly. “The teacher never said the answer had to be different every time so, uh, I made my problems by moving all the letters and numbers from a super hard one I made. When class got to it, everyone went crazy!” I frowned. “I got detention. Everyone called me the Algebraic Devil ever since.”

“W-wait. You have no idea either?” Sam thumbed his chin, smearing chocolate without noticing. “What was the final answer?”

“666. ‘Cause you know? Like the Mane 6?”

Sam opened his mouth but then closed it. Moments later, his mouth twitched into a smile before he scarfed down another cookie. I gave an odd look before shrugging. It was trivial to my 12-year-old mind anyways.

We ate in silence. Our food couldn’t eat themselves, after all. I knew his mom packed his lunch everyday down to the slices of sandwiches, the bag of grapes and a container of spaghetti beside a bottle of homemade orange juice. A healthy lunch for a growing kid like Sam.

All I had was school food.

We were worlds apart, but I ate with just as much gusto.

Cheers and laughter erupted from the other side of the cafeteria. Sam glanced around in curiosity, but I found my apple more interesting as I played with it. I once sat at that table. What went on over there was old news to me.

“Seems Ron is having fun…” Sam said, hastily gulping his next cookie. “Say, do you...do you miss them?”

“Huh?” I glanced up from my apple. “Wha?”

“Ron and his friends.”

“Eh. Ron is funny is all.”

“But do you miss him? I mean…” He bit his lip, no doubt tasting chocolate. “Mom said that friends should make up. You two were friends. Back then, he said that you don’t actually believe in friendship. But you totally do, so...”

“Wha? The fuck are you talking about? I just like ponies.”

Sam wilted. “T-then, you really don’t…?”

“I mean, friendship sucks and shit without the, uh, ponies to make it worth it.”

“Oh.” Sam blinked. “Oh! I-I think so, too! See, I like Rainbow Dash!” He waved his smartphone. “Whenever I’m in trouble, I always ask myself, ‘what would she do?’ She’s brave, kicks butt, means what she says and loyal and-and, uh...kinda like you—” He stopped. “B-but I can totally see you as a Fluttershy!”

I blew a raspberry. “I’m totally a year older than you.”

Sam laughed. “Oh, I know that one! ‘Griffin the Brush Off’ right?” He brightened as a thought just occurred to him. “Oh yeah! Do you know who your favorite pony is now?”

The question gave me pause. “Mmm… Nah. Not yet.” I shrugged uncaringly, admiring the shine of my apple. But when I took a scrumptious bite, I failed to see the frown along his face. “Maybe next time, Sam—”

“I’m not stupid.”

“Huh?”

At first, Sam was silent, his eyes lingering back to Ron’s table before he shook his head. The pleading face he then gave… I remembered it from when we first met. He sighed. “You know, this is kinda embarrassing... I don’t know your name. They always say you’re ‘Ron’s friend’ or the ‘Algebraic Devil’, but what else? It’s like you’re there but...not at all. Even Ron looks fine without you around...”

I said nothing.

As if unnerved, Sam made to eat the last cookie but bit his lip first, a defense against temptation.

The bell rang and lunchtime ended. A crescendo of screeching chairs and vitalized conversation swept the cafeteria. Routine should’ve spurred us both to join the crowd to move on to the next period, but something like shackles kept us seated.

Sam laid the last cookie on its plastic baggie and passed it my way, almost like a peace offering. “At least tell me your name before you go.”

Wordlessly, I stared at the cookie in my hands.


Revisiting Lessons - Chapter 10


Season 1: Episode 9


Bridle Gossip






...or rather, my hooves.

Exhaling, I returned the cookie to its siblings, closed the box of oatmeal cookies, and laid it on the floor beside a pile of bulging plastic bags. I looked around.

From one end of the barber shop to the other, mirrors line the wall with a swiveling chair and desk table for each, functional yet pleasing the eyes with navy blues.

I needed something to busy myself in while I wait for my service. I resisted the urge to spin on my swivel chair and stared into the mirror instead. After a minute or two, no luck of being hypnotized into existentialism. Just my default, cartoony expression: blank and straight, boredom with dull, silvery eyes, a severe contrast to the cheerful charm of My Little Pony.

To the side, somebody left a trio of unfinished water bottles haphazardly on one of the desks, two-thirds of the way consumed. They looked beaten up. Only one stood upright.

Another customer besides myself sat in her chair, but above crossed hindlegs was a newspaper that encompassed and hid her figure save for a fancy sunhat that peaked out the top.

I looked down on my lap. The newspaper noisily wrinkled as I held it to my hooves. On its front cover read, Revised Edition of the Church of Harmony’s Bible Released! Legitimacy of Their Prophecies Under Threat!

...so they weren’t fooling.

“You know, would it hurt to greet to a friend?”

The other customer’s melodious voice pierced the silence as paper flapped, revealing purple sunglasses that scanned along the same page as I.

My indifference was unfallible. “I don’t believe we were ever that close, Miss Rarity.”

“Mmm. True,” Rarity admitted easily. The beguiling smile under the shade of her hat was enough to charm the hearts out of any gullible stallion in this world. “But that doesn’t mean it’s too late to start. It shant always be hats and business between you and I.”

“Assuming I’m actually willing,” I grumbled and gave a sideways look. “...just what is it? You’re not usually this confident. Not unless you got an edge on me.”

Not to mention why she was here. Rarity knew her own mane like an expert. In canon, she obsessed with it down to the very brush, perfume and shampoo. Why would she go to the barber for anything?

“Why, whatever do you mean?” she angled her face so that innocently fluttering lashes peeked behind the sunglasses, “I was just wondering how your little ‘date’ with Twilight went.”

For a moment, I said nothing. But when I eventually spoke, my tone was as dry as the grave. “...so it was you who imparted our resident librarian social correctness.”

Rarity chuckled nervously, but she remained unabashed. “A long overdue correction. She’s been rooming with a stallion for the past season, after all. Scandalous, I must say!” She quickly added, “Not to say you are of bad character, of course. I simply care for her safety.”

The frazzled twitch of her tail told a different story.

“...your words. Not mine.”

“But I digress,” Rarity flashed a smile, “how goes your little outing?”

I sighed, all too knowing of her intentions, yet I played along. “Work on your education. You didn’t teach subtlety. Twilight kept on insisting it WASN’T a date so much that she had more trouble convincing the witnesses. ” A picture on a page of my newspaper attracted me. Twilight was the main focus, mauling her food while I, in disguise, watched on. She won the restaurant's food challenge. But in the background, a certain marshmallow pony hid behind a menu.  “...You aren’t prodding for any secrets, are you?”

“Moi? Oh no, of course not!” Rarity denied in mock horror before leaning forward in apt interest. “But please, do go on.”

“...I think I’ll save Twilight and I the embarrassment.”

“So be it.” Rarity hummed, fiddling the ribbon of her sun hat. “Twilight was so kind to pass on a few interesting tidbits about you. I was quite...enraptured. From avoiding sweets to sleeping in the shelves and knitting your own cloth…” She hid a smile behind her newspaper, but her mirthful tone did not lie. “Why, I have never seen a blanket with so many holes in it!”

I repressed a wince. “She showed my work, huh?”

“But that’s not all,” Rarity began. “I doubted Twilight at first, but she was quite adamant and even Applejack had a thing to say. Apparently, you had a hoof in helping them in some way.”

“I…” I looked away. “Did they now...”

“Oh?” Rarity’s grin could ignite a war with its smugness. “Getting a little shy now are we?”

“That’s a Fluttershy thing. And I’m not Fluttershy.”

“Hmm. Be as it may, it’s decided from what I’ve seen.”

I stiffened. “Decide what?”

“That you may be more than just a customer to me, of course!” Rarity said giggling. “It’s almost funny. I know only rumors, mythical impossibilities yet believable explanations to a mystery like you. Tempting to make my own guesses. But in the end, you are just a normal pony beyond the rumor.”

Normal, huh? I once considered it an insult to be labeled anything like a ‘normie’ in my past life spent in the image boards of 4chan. But coming from Rarity, it was the closest to a compliment I’ve ever gotten from her. It felt strange. Refreshing.

“...but aren’t we all?” I idly replied. “We go day by day, doing normal things all the time.”

“Well…I suppose.” Rarity paused, frowning before a radiant grin overturned it. “But everypony has something juicy in their lives. Something beautiful, magnificent and perhaps even tragic, an inside story just waiting to be told! Romantic, no? I say, Life would be boring otherwise.” Rarity leaned on the arm of her chair as her inquisitive gaze shined. “So what say you? What’s your story?”

Scampering footsteps and rolling wheels cut off our conversation. A chubby colt was dragging a rolling stool by a rope that looked to be severed short. He hopped onto the stool and adjusted a barber cloak around my neck.

Snips smirked, levitating a pair of scissors. “Heya, Mister Blue! Sorry for the wait. This thing got tangled when I came looking for it.” He tapped his stool. “So, uh,” he uttered nervously, “what was it that you need again?”

“A trimming, please. To keep my mane away from my eyes.”

“Right on it!” With a hoof over the shoulder of my chair, he spun it so that I could see him work in the mirror.

“How’s school, Snips?” I asked.

“Eh, same old.” A few clips and hair fell out. “Nopony talks much about the Ursa anymore. Now they keep talking about how you almost got ponynapped!” he said grinning. “It’s the talk of the town! Is it true?”

“...generally.”

“You used your ninja skills on the ponynappers, I bet!”

“Sure, I ninjutsu’d with a falling log and a trashcan,” I replied sarcastically.

“Sweeet!” Snips turned my chair slightly to cut at an angle. “Thanks for, uh, letting me cut your mane. The boss usually deals with the customers and make me watch.” His horn glowed brighter, and the wheels of his stool turned so that he moved to the other side. “Trixie said we have to keep improving ourselves if we want to stand next to her one day!”

“By cutting manes?”

“Before she, uh, left, she told us to never be stuck in one place,” Snips explained, shearing metal right next to my ear. “So I cut a lot of stuff! Paper and string and plastic...anything that I can get my hooves on! Everypony else thinks it's silly… Of course, I don’t listen.” The snipping stopped and, as I glanced up the mirror, the colt frowned with insecure eyes. “B-but I’m not really sure if I’m getting any closer at this rate...”

“You’re cutting off your limits to expand your potential.” I flipped a page. “Sounds like progress to me.”

At the corner of my eye, Rarity’s mane bounced as she shifted in place and a thin line formed along her lips. The weight of her ponderous gaze casted over me, but I couldn’t tell what else was beyond her sunglasses. Was she getting impatient?

“Huh.” Snips blinked. “I never thought about it like that.”

“Keep snipping away, Snips. You’ll get there.”

Snips gasped. “Ooh! Ooh! You should tell me and Snails more ninja wisdom some time! I think Snails is a bit stuck.” He paused. “Or slow.”

“Noted.” From zombie to ninja, just what more will this town throw at me? Eventually, Snips was too busy with my mane to continue the short chat. I couldn’t face Rarity properly without messing him up. I bothered to resume anyways. “You were saying, Miss Rarity?”

“Hmm. Nevermind,” Rarity straightened her newspaper, back to reading with a soft smile. “I think I understand a little now.”

And with those words, our discussion came to an anticlimactic end. I shrugged. Fine by me. If she found what she wanted, then good for her. Otherwise, I wasn’t looking for trouble.

It went quiet as I let my consciousness escape into the text in my hooves. The sound of grinding scissors and shuffling paper lulled me in a monotonous state of mind, my head feeling lighter as hair strand after strand fell to the floor.

“Aaaand done!” Snips blurted in triumph. “So, how’d did I do?”

Inwardly chuckling at his enthusiasm, I left the pages to appraise my new mane cut in the mirror and—froze. “Snips…” I spoke thinly, “when I said trimming, what were you thinking?”

“Um…” Snips nervously answered, “make it shorter?”

“In your hairstyle?”

Rarity swiveled on her chair. “Now, what seems to be all the fuss?”

“Don’t look,” I hastily warned, turning away along my seat but a light blue aura pulled me back around.

“Oh, hush. I am sure you are quite dashi—!”

Rarity laid eyes on the nasty scar now bare for all to see. And screamed bloody murder.





Empty.

Ponyville was like the vacuum of space, a suffocating absence of color and sound that alienated the soul. No song to be played. No words to smile about. No person to greet in neighborly recognition. Only a lonesome street and several bulging bags of goods that hung along the bend of my wing kept me company.

In my peripheral, eyes peered through the slits of open windows and doors, from the housing all around to the now closed stores like Sugarcube Corner. The gaze of the Mane 6 was the heaviest of all.

I should be desensitized to the feeling. But what kept me from cozying into the silence was the anticipation of it breaking. I was waiting for Zecora.

And she appeared, slowly and dramatically from around the bend, her brown cloak swaying in tandem with her legs. Fearsome eyes glowed under her hood. Faint gasps echoed indoors, but to me, it’s the unassuming and harmless gaze of a friend.

At first, I hesitated to close the distant. Would the timing be too late or too early? How should I greet her? ...but most of all, should I be doing this? An image of the Tree of Harmony flashed through my mind and I winced.

I shook my head and forced myself forward, the bags rustling as I walked. The timeline may be fragile, but I could still reinforce it however I can. Whatever happens...happens.

Eventually, we were face to face.

Zecora’s hood slipped off, and the light glinted off her golden earrings and necklaces. Cyan eyes appeared dull for a second before happily brightening upon seeinh me. She stared at my bare forehead. “From old, scruffy mane to a bold new, it doesn’t quite suit you. Are you not aloof as a silent hoof?”

“My barber fucked up.” My eyes trailed down to something familiar: Tufts of cotton peaked out of the nape of her cloak. “Anyways, here.” I winged the plastic bags to her. “The usual, right? More cookies inside, too.”

“Ah! More sweet graces.” Zecora shook and the thick, cozy blanket beneath fluffed. Grabbing the bag with her teeth, it then disappeared under her cloak, hooked on the wooden stick underneath. “To shop for my groceries in a monthly basis.... Pony of blue, I thank you.”

“Do you really have to make it sound like a big deal?” I droned. “Cookies are cookies. I would give you raisins but…” Hatred toward raisin cookies apparently transcended alternate universes. “Anyways, that’s all I got. All set for the winter?”

“By your goodwill, I’m prepared for the winter chill. Much appreciated, Blue. I wish you a find day.” Zecora turned the other away, flipping her hood over her head. “Far be it for me and you to stay…”

As much as it sucked, I agreed.

We were loners of a similar type, conscious of Ponyville’s desolation. We knew we weren’t exactly in good favor with the crowd, so we stayed out of the way for their sake. Even diehard fans would wish to escape the boredom, conflict and toxicity that occupied every corner of a dying fandom. As fanatical as I was at the time, the thought of it being my turn to take leave did cross me.

Zecora paused and glanced over her flank. “One more thing, Tori. In your next visit, would you like to...trade another story?”

“I...” I hesitated.

A happy smile peeked out of Zecora’s hood. “Just remember: You are always welcome in my home whenever you have nowhere else to roam.” With a satisfied nod, she trotted off.

I bit my cheek. “W-wait!”

Zecora stopped, looking at me in surprise.

I coughed, struggling to still my nervous ears. “Would now be alright?”





When Spike came back, I already explained it to Twilight that I was going to stay over at Zecora’s for a day or two. Naturally, Twilighed asked questions. Spike was interested, too. So, I told them the absolute basics of who Zecora was, that she’s a zebra who lived in the Everfree Forest to pursue her work but not much else. Vague. Just like me to the whole of Ponyville, Zecora remained a mystery.

As for why I planned on it... It all came down to Apple Bloom, the catalyst of the events of “Bridle Gossip.” The premise of the episode hinged on her actions. Apple Bloom followed Zecora to figure out for herself who she was, and the Mane 6 gave chase, which lead to the Poison Joke “curse.” But none of that would happen if an alternative means of obtaining Zecora’s side of the story existed: Me.

To my understanding of the characters and their dialogue, the events should occur naturally with me out of the way. Once mentioned, Twilight would inform everyone of my absence, and Apple Bloom’s impatience should work things out. Instead of waiting for my return, the filly will come rushing into the Everfree Forest where the truth resided.

And it worked. I could hear Apple Bloom’s theme, fiddles plucking to the scampering of tiny hooves behind Zecora and I.

In the Everfree Forest, it’s dark and dreary as always, but the atmosphere felt lazy...sleepy. Mist cooled our coats, an ominous way of the Everfree saying that it’s hibernating for it’s own brand of winter. For a scenic route, there wasn’t much to see as Zecora and I walked deeper into the hazy forest, but when we reached a particular clearing, the main attraction glowed before us in enchanting leaves of blue. Beautiful.

The feathery feeling on my forehead told me I was doing it again.

Zecora and I admired the sight, careful to steer clear of the potent leaves.

“I remember finding you here, injured besides the manticore in the Poison Joke.” Zecora commented, lips curving to fond memories. “A shame we didn’t see what they had in store before you awoke.”

I shrugged. “Maybe being healed was the joke.”

The Poison saved my life twice, the first time to fend off the Timberwolves and the second as an ingredient to Zecora’s healing brew. Laughter truly was the best medicine…

“As refreshing to hear you snark, that’s quite depressing and dark…”

“The Everfree and I get along that way. But what do I know?”

Zecora shook her head. “Very much, my fair friend, by little means and little ends. You have a nose that always knows.” She giggled. “Fascinating, and quite telling.”

“Apple Bloom!”

By the sudden voice, Zecora and I swiftly pivoted around...only to be gifted the sight of Apple Bloom in a wide-eyed gasp. She turned around as well, but to be instead cursed with her older sister and the rest of the Mane 6 past a patch of Poison Joke. The filly was caught in the act on both sides.

“Get back here, right now!” Applejack ordered, rushing up to the little Apple.

Zecora bit her lip as she eyed the blue flora that they all stood over. “Beware! Beware, pony folk! Those leaves of blue are not a joke!”

Shuffling her younger sister onto her back, Applejack stuttering back, “Y-you take your mumbo jumbo elsewhere!”

“Yeah!” Pinkie suddenly bellowed. “You’re not fooling anypony! Of course Tori is funny! His sense of humor may be dry, but that’s a part of who he is. Unless you’re talking about something else… In that case, he doesn’t smell like leaves! He smells blue! Definitely tastes blue, too!”

Everybody just...looked at her.

“Be...ware?” Zecora gave me an asking stare.

The Mane 6 gasped when the mist thickened, enveloping the entire clearing with a whiteness that obscured both sight and sound as if the sleepy Everfree grumbled indignantly and dug deeper into its foggy covers to block out the noise.

“Wait, no! Tori!” Pinkie yelled with waving hooves. “Don’t go! She’ll cook you up into pony steeeeew—!”

In one final heave, the Everfree’s fog enclosed the space between us like a closing curtain, cutting their voices—of concern, outrage or inane accusations I couldn’t tell the difference of—from beyond the fog. And then nothing.

Moisture flowed from my breath and condensed along my furry. With nothing to keep us any longer, the eye candy blocked by the fog, we silently turned our backs to the wall of mist and continued our trek toward Zecora’s home.

“...you’re friend is quite something,” Zecora muttered. “But smelling blue...is that truly a thing?”

I refused to dignify that with a response.





It was a soft morning the next day.

For Ponyville, winter had already arrived with sunny smiles. According to the Weather Team’s scheduling, only two days before snowfall hits the whole town. Things remained the same for the pony citizen in their everyday lives, enjoying the last of the warm days before three pony months of icy holidays and hibernation.

But for the Everfree Forest, past the treeline that separated light and dark, it was asleep. The trees drifted from a dull, ominous echo of wind… Howling to the ignorant, snoring to the knowledgeable. Mist creeped along the cold ground, only to be disturbed by movement and music of grand proportions.

Something lively entered the Everfree Forest, bringing with it a theme of wondrous adventure on yellow hooves and the flapping of a deep pink bow—

“Stop right there!”

Startled, Apple Bloom dug her hooves against the dirt. The tufts of her mane parted, and little Applejack emerged out.

“Turn around right now, missy!” Applejack squeaked.

Poison Joke had an ironic sense of humor (or perhaps it's the writers?), turning the “big” sister so comically small in size that Apple Bloom, previously oppressed by sisterhood, smirked.

“No!”

Applejack was shocked. “No?! You can’t ignore an order from your big sister!”

“Actually, she can.”

The two sisters snapped their gazes toward my voice. I slipped out from behind the trees from where I lurked and watched in amusement, slowed by the bulging weight ofa saddlebag. Spectacularly enough, they responded with scared sputters.

“Eeeeeep!” Apple Bloom jumped, causing Applejack to almost fall off and scrambling away from my approach. A tree halted her escape. “D-don’t eat me! Ah know ya like my sister so ya ain't gettin’ any points if ya do!”

“...”

“A-ah mean it!”

“...the lovesick zombie rumor still happening?”

The filly’s eyes flickered side to side. “U-uh…”

“Nevermind. Stand up. Not unless you want to be more earth than you already are.”

“O-oh, uh…” She gulped, getting back to her hooves. “O...kay?”

Applejack barely hung onto the tuft of Apple Bloom's mane. In a few seconds, she safely nestled into her sister’s red mane. “Phew! Ah can’t believe Ah’m sayin’ this, but good that you’re here, Tutorial!” The farmer nodded gratefully. “Now drag this silly filly out of here so that Ah can give a stern talkin’—!”

I brushed past the two, shrugging the saddlebag steady. “You’re going to Zecora’s too, right?” My voice distantly echoed in the forestry as I trudged without stopping. “Come on. I know the way.”

Applejack’s eyes bulged. “WHAT?!”

“W-wait!” Apple Bloom scrambled to catch up and looked up at me as she trailed by my side. “So...you’re not going to kick me out?”

“You’ll just come straight back in,” I droned. “You are Applejack’s sister. Both of you are stubborn. Better to keep you safe if your destination is inevitable.”

“Ahm right here y’know!” Applejack angrily squeaked, waving her hooves. “And just to make this clear, Ah ain’t goin’ to agree to this! There ain’t no way, no how, you are goin’ to lead my little sister to a stranger!” No response. “Hey! Ahm talkin’ here!”

“You’re...not what ah expected,” Apple Bloom said slowly. She gazed up and down, assessing my appearance. “Ain’t you supposed to be sleazy and scary?” When her eyes landed on my face, she flinched and looked away. “Well...definitely scary…”

She had the sense to fact check Zecora, but not me? Can’t say I wasn’t hurt.

Apple Bloom winced when she realized what she just said. “S-sorry. Out of the two of you, AJ talks about ya the most.”

“...that so?” I gave a sidelong glance toward the pony-shaped orange. “Appletini?”

Applejack gazed back in defiance. “You make very roundabout ways of helping others, Tutorial. Do you have any idea how confused Ah was when Twilight told Rarity and Ah how you watched out for us? One day you were helpful, indifferent in the next, and then thoughtful after that!” She huff, hunched against her sister’s red bow. “And knowin’ that you are just...watchin’... There ain’t a lick of sense in what you do.”

“Sense?” The word tasted bitter. “You and the rest of Ponyville sure love making sense. I’m an unnatural puzzle to you all, I know. Trot paths with Zecora? I’m her thrall. Know things that most don’t? I’m psychic. Dark circles under the eyes? Suddenly, I’m the undead with the only thing standing between me and the brains of everyone is lovesickness.” Spent from running off my mouth, I sighed. “You may be the Element of Honesty, but you’re no seeker of truth.”

Applejack’s eyes narrowed. “Don’t pretend ya know me.”

I scoffed. “Right back at ya.”

Apple Bloom could only watch nervously, looking back and forth between us.

“Then how about you and Ah settle this?” Applejack proposed. “Just what in tarnation is the real you? And what are we to you?”

My answer? A lazy shrug of my wings. “To be blunt, the real me is a helluva lot more boring. All I do is lurk in the library. And you guys are just...fun is all. A way to stave off the monotony. What more is there to know?”

Applejack’s brow raised. The action spoke for itself.

I let loose a breath. “Having no motivations to speak of, you guys...are it. Watching was as comfortable as I could get.”

“...Motivation?”

We reached a sunlit clearing. The lazy light entered through the gap of the canopy, but shining brilliantly in all the colors of the rainbow was a familiar landmark I was personally attached to. Splitting the carcass of a jagged tree, piercing the stump and up the twin paths of branches, the zap apple tree’s offspring rippled with lightning, ripe for pickings.

I clambered up the tree, using the parts of the old tree as steps and whacked a branch, where a few squarish fruit landed on a conveniently placed blanket worn from the natural elements. Hopping back down with a thud, I swept the fruits up in my wing. No blemishes thanks to the blanket.

I juggled the zap apples onto my hooves, one to eat and the other to offer. “Here. My treat.”

Apple Bloom stared in wonder as she took it in her hooves. And Applejack, looking at the tree…the face she had was the softest I’ve ever seen of her. They gazed up at the miracle from where the zap apple grew from, at the rainbow morsel in their possession and then back as the haze of sunlight colored and warmed their coats.

I took a scrumptious bite, trotted five steps, and then realized they weren’t following. Glancing over my shoulder, I said, “Are you coming?”

Snapping back to reality, Apple Bloom quickly scampered to my side, zap apple in her teeth.

There were no more words. Only crunching and chewing as we enjoyed an electrifying slice of life under Everfree shade. Apple Bloom had small bites for herself, occasionally lifting the apple so that Applejack could have a taste. Miniscule marks dotted the apple.

Once the cores were left, I threw mine into a ditch. But when Apple Bloom did the same in childish imitation, she blinked, as did Applejack, and stared. Along with the two apple cores were dozens of others, most of them from regular red apples, decomposing by nature’s will. Apple Bloom lingered before Applejack tapped her forehead to keep going.

…

“So, uh, Mister Blue… How’d you get that scar?”

“I got bit.”

“W-wait, so you really are a zombie?!”

I sighed.





Zecora stared, looking past the steam of her herbal tea.

Applejack stared back, squirming under the zebra’s gaze.

An awkward silence usurped the cozy abode of Zecora’s home as a cauldron bubbled in the middle. The saddlebag hung deflated on a hook by the fireplace, the ingredients I collected emptied.

Face to face, Applejack sat on a small table and Zecora loomed over her tiny form. Apple Bloom and I sat by the window with matching expressions of indifference, cups of tea in our hooves. On either side of our respective partners, Apple Bloom sat with rapt interest and I with indifference as we spectated, a cup of tea in each of our hooves. At the center of the table, a cookie box laid open.

“So, uh…” Applejack began nervously. “Let me get this straight…there wasn’t really a curse and all this is happenin’ because a bunch of flowers took us all into a bull ride for jokes and laughs?”

“Correct, my tiny friend.” Zecora nodded with a disarming smile. “And to cross risky trails at such size, I do commend.”

“Of course!” Applejack stood tall and strong...as much as she possibly could in her current form. “It’s my baby sister’s safety on the line!”

“Not a baby,” Apple Bloom grumbled.

Zecora sipped her tea. “And how is it, being so small? To see the world ever so tall?”

“Ah barely recognized anythin’ when Ah woke up… ‘Cept for Macintosh. He’s always big.”

“Hmm. Fret not, you will be cured. My brew will do wonders, of that you are assured.” Zecora sat up and circled around the cauldron, stirring the pot after tossing in a select variety of ingredients. “In time, you will be back to proper size with soap and lime.”

“Uh…” Applejack furrowed her brows. “What?”

“She means a bubble bath,” I explained.

“Oh...thanks,” Applejack muttered, staring down a cup fit for her size. When she sipped, she blinked and blushed as the herbal tea warmed her being. An imperceptible smile, of smallness rather than subtlety, graced her lips. “Y’know Zecora, ya ain’t so bad for a stranger. Was expectin’ somepony like Tutorial.”

I coughed.

Zecora chuckled pleasantly upon mention of me. “More mysterious than even I, rarely sharing thoughts does he comply. But are we not all strangers? An untold story behind our very covers?”

“Then what’s yours?” Applejack squeaked. “What brought you to town?”

“I came from a land far, far away… At a village of sand, I did not stay. I traveled far and wide, only a stick and cloak by my side. From wet marshes to soft earth, to different kingdoms of great girth, a journey was given birth.”

“But ain't that lonely?” Apple Bloom asked.

“Nature is my home. I am never alone.” Zecora honed her gaze upon a thick, wooden staff that leaned against the far wall. She trotted up to it and then carried it back. “I wandered to expand my wisdom and craft. The moons I walked are marked in this staff.”

Numerous lines of chalk marked the staff, a manifestation of lore that never existed in canon, actualized by the countless tales told by every blemish and scratch on its aging surface. It was proof of the odyssey of Zecora.

Applejack and Apple Bloom breathed in awe as imagination seemed to flower in their eyes. It was a surprise when I first saw it, too. Very few in the Brony fandom pondered of Zecora’s background, a character of great mystery and potential.

“I found this staff and heard tales of its origin, you see. And so, I went seeking the mysterious Everfree.”

Applejack whistled. “Ya came from a long way.”

“As did Tutorial, who also travel.”

They all looked at me. I frowned at the attention. “I’m not a big fan of exposition and backstory. Not like I have much of one.”

“Untrue. I believe you do,” Zecora said with an encouraging smile. “One may not judge a book by it’s cover, Tori, but that never meant one read the full story.”

“...would any of you believe it if I tripped on a ball, died, and then went on a spiritual journey?”

“Absolutely not!” Zecora laughed. “By now, you’d already rot!”

“Of course...,” I groaned. Idly, I stared at my wings the same way I would for my own hands. The primaries twitched, like fingers. “...As far as I could remember, I was always moving.”

Zecora sat straight in surprise. Even the Apples leaned in, riveted to hear something about me that came from the horse’s mouth for once. The way they sat at attention… I never thought I would ever captivate an audience.

“My mom, dad and I… I can’t say I had the energy as they did. Traveling was in our veins—but I just don’t feel it in mine. Once we arrive at someplace, we never stick around for long. City, suburban, rural—doesn’t matter. I’m just along for the ride.”

“But you get see some amazin’ things, Ah bet!” Apple Bloom said with shimmering eyes.

“...depends on what you think is amazing, I guess,” I muttered. “You’d be surprised how commonly hated raisin cookies were. Anyways, my parents never kept still. They justified that if we have the wings—the freedom—then may as well see the world with our own two eyes. Make the best of out lives.”

Applejack blinked. “Ya don’t fly, though…”

“...let’s just say it’s my way of disagreeing.” Feeling that the cookies weren’t getting enough love, I dunked one in my teacup and ate it soggy. The tangy mix of bitter tea and oatmeal made a lasting impression on my taste buds. “Not like it stopped them from dragging me along.”

Curious, Apple Bloom tried the same but gagged and spat the instant it entered her mouth. “Blegh! How could ya eat like that?! It’s mushy and horrible!”

“Heh. If only I had the raisin cookies. Now that would be disgusting,” I commented blissfully.

“Raisins?!” Apple Bloom turned green. “Why?!”

“I like to think of it this way: Nobody eats it, nobody touches it. No matter how questionable its existence in comparison to chocolate chip, raisin cookies will stay whether we like it or not. The sweetests things don’t last...always gone inside your gullet.” Without meaning to, I smiled. “Almost like a goodbye sometimes.”

But just as swiftly, I frowned toward the window. “And if you wanted to listen so badly, get inside like normal people.”

Twilight, Pinkie, Rarity and Fluttershy froze like deer to headlights, so into their eavesdropping that their muzzles were inches across the window they were peeking through, heads tilted to perceive as much sound as possible.

“Gals!” Applejack squeaked, skittering to the end of the table. “Ya’ll are here!”

Pinkie spoke through her blue-spotted tongue sticking out of her mouth. Only muffled syllables came out.

“Wha? No, nothin’ happened.” Applejack chuckled. “Ahm alright. Come on in, girls. It’s safe.”

Pinkie wasn’t convinced, humming in suspicion with a squint of an eye.

“...and no. Ahm not brain-washed,” Applejack deadpanned.

The four afflicted ponies traded gazes utterly, baffled by their friend’s words,

But then, distant at first, a noise that imitated a falling plane answered. It grew louder and louder until it reached it’s peak to announce it’s awesome arrival.

“I’m coming iiiin!”

I sighed, already by the door. All I did was slide the lock in.

A thunderous crash startled the occupants of the hut, the impact cracking the seams of the door as splinters threatened to spill! The voice moaned from beyond the door.

“Oooouch! Hey! What’s the big idea?!”

“No flying, Rainbow Crash,” I said. “Keep your hooves to the ground.”

“Oh come on! Let us in already or else I’m kicking your flank, too!”

“Fuck no.”

In a growling feathers, engines thrummed...only for it to veer off distantly, followed by collapsing and snapping trees.

“Darn it!” Rainbow swore. “Stupid vines!”

“Getting acquainted with the forestry, I see,” I said dryly.

“Shut up!”

Hoofsteps joined her, and I heard the rest of the girls fumbling around as Rainbow’s irritated cries grew saltier. Eventually, there was a light rapping on the wooden door, soft and polite. Removing the lock, I opened the door.

Rarity cleared her throat, garnering as much dignity as her hairy self allowed. Behind her, Twilight, Fluttershy and Pinkie were untangling Rainbow Dash from the vines...before ultimately deciding not to. It became a struggle dragging the flailing pegasus to her hooves. “May...may we come on in?”

I turned to Zecora. She nodded with a serene expression. It seemed she wanted get this over with as well. Back to Rarity, I stepped out of the way for them to enter. “Had a bad hair day, too, Hairity?”

Past her own long-winded bangs, Rarity gave a look, only to wince when her eyes caught a glimpse of scar tissue.. “...Touche.” Zecora guided her to a seat so that her impaired vision didn’t get her hurt. Rarity hummed as she sat. “Hmmm. While I can’t say much about the decor, I must admit that the seats are quite homely...although, why the holes...?”

When Zecora grinned at me, I looked away.

“Tori!” Twilight approached, her blue-spotted horn jiggling like jello. “You’re alright!”

I blinked. “‘Alright?’” I repeated. “Was I supposed to be in danger or something?”

“Well, uh…” Twilight smiled awkwardly. “They may have said that your scar was...a part of a curse. And that if you don’t return to Zecora at a certain time, you’ll...decay...”

“...seriously?” Sounded like something out of a Disney movie.

“Oh, Twilight!” Apple Bloom laughed, knocking her hoof against the table along where she sat. “‘Course there ain’t any curses. It’s all a filly’s tale.” She stared innocently at me. “Right, Tori?”

...One of these days, they will understand the might of the words shit, cunt, fuck— 

“Urk!”

I shouldn’t have let my guard down, for I was now in the grasp of Pinkie Pie’s iron embrace. Her jabbering was a garbled mess of spittle and incoherent mumbles that splashed all over my face as she rubbed her cheek against mine. I got the gist of it, but I stiffened in disgust.

“Yes, I’m okay,” I drolled. “Now stop slobbering all over me! You’re not a dog!”

Pinkie stepped away in a sheepish giggle, well-mannered enough to keep the spit to herself. But it was already too late. I was drenched from mane to chest from unrealistic volumes of saliva. Pinkie realized what she had done and got on her haunches, her back arc’d low as stared up at me for forgiveness. She seemed so small with those puppy eyes.

Stone-faced, my eye twitched. I felt violated.

Then, I caught the shy pink of Fluttershy’s mane peaking out of the door. I cleared my throat and nodded respectfully. “Hello, Boss.”

Twice, there was a cough. It wasn’t one of politeness, neither was it with her usual cute and quiet. Instead, a strong, deep voice reverberated the hut by the sound alone, silencing us all. At first, I wasn’t worried. I already knew Poison Joke’s effect on her, but then I blinked. The music...it’s gotten quiet.

Slowly, like piano keys played in order from one side to the other, Fluttershy edged out into the open...and astonishment welled inside me. Exhausted cyan eyes sported dark circles underneath, wrinkling to stay awake, and even her mane appeared to have just woken up, strands loose in some places.

This… This wasn’t supposed to happen.

Zecora gasped at Fluttershy’s sorry state. “Oh dear! Poor pony, to know such gruel… But even Poison Joke is not so cruel.”

“Actually, she’s been like this since yesterday,” Rainbow Dash clarified. She itched under a length of vine that wrapped around her barrel. “Hasn’t gotten much sleep lately.”

“...have you at least found your bird that night, Boss?” I asked Fluttershy.

She smiled and nodded weakly.

“Worth the coughing fit?”

“No worries,” Fluttershy coughed once. Her deep, manly voice imparted more confidence than it should’ve. “It’ll pass.”

I certainly hoped so.

Eventually, we all settled into our seat. It felt crowded being bunched around the table, which was originally meant for two to three at most. Silence and a lack of space suffocated us, but the proximity to Zecora heightened the claustrophobia, some of the girls looking nervously at her.

“Okay.” Applejack, standing at the center of the table with serious eyes, got our full attention. “Let’s talk.”





“The horror! The horror!”

“The zombie apocalypse has come! The end is neigh!”

“Run for you liiiives!”

The town went ballistic as we all marched into the town. It took about only a minute and the entirety of Ponyville went quiet. Tumbleweed drifted and crossed the road we walked on. When it came to running and hiding, Ponyville only knew efficiency if the hiding spot was one’s own home.

“...I’ll be heading out to the library,” I said, parting from the formation.

Twilight tilted her head. “Not going to join us at the spa?”

“Uhhh, Twilight?” Rainbow Dash said, “I know you’re awkward and all, but seriously?”

“...what?”

“I mean, you’re asking a guy?”

Rarity coughed into her hoof. “Rainbow Dash is right. We are having a bubble bath after all.”

“Oh.” Twilight blinked. Ohhh…”

“Yeah. Oh,” I rolled my eyes. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll find my guy time with Spike.”

“I wish you serene trails, friend.” Zecora sagely smiled. “Today, you gave a happy end.”

“...glad to hear it.” Even though I didn’t face her to acknowledge her words, I truly did.

And so, we left out of each other’s sight. All was completely silent without their hoofsteps to follow, just me and the distance I had to cross. I was fine with it. It let me lose myself into my thoughts instead of the faint dissonance of fear in the air. All of that will soon change anyways.

Zecora will have a smoother life from here on out. Once “Bridle Gossip” was over, she could then buy her own things without me being the middleman. Glad my interference hadn’t changed this episode’s outcome. In fact… I at least got something out of it. The thought had me crave apples. Tucked under a wing, now between my primaries, I rubbed its red skin clean on my coat and its savored honest sweetness.

A wagon was in my path, left astray upon the girls’ return, but far from abandoned. Underneath, a pair of shivering colors—two mares found shelter from a danger that never existed. I walked around to pass on by, but then stopped as well as my chewing. The poor mares flinched and huddled tighter to edge out of view. I paid their cartoony skittishness no heed. Instead, I stared at the text engraved into the center of one of the wheels. As if by odd humor, a logo of a wheel accompanied it.

Roadmane Inc.

After about a long, long minute, I took another bite of my apple and moved on. The breaths of relief behind bidded me goodbye.

The Golden Oak expanded into view from the horizon. It’s been a long day, enough for the sun to tick behind the edging leaves of the tree house and tinge the world in gold, indicating the end of an hour and the beginning of the next. Finished eating, I threw away the apple remains into a nearby trashcan. The daily newspaper laid haplessly where it usually did upon reaching the steps…

“Wicked Enchantress’s Minion Tasted Our Sweets and Will Steal Them All! Hide Your Delicacies!”

More drivel, but still amusing. It’s a keeper.

The issue under my wing, I opened the door and slipped in. Inside laid a massive mess. The shelves were emptied, in front of them the contents themselves in a sea of bookish galore. Loose paper and open covers were scattered all around. I could imagine the lavender unicorn, just swimming in it to find the solution she seek. Hard to imagine a mare with OCPD could subject her own library to such harsh treatment.

In the middle of it all, the number one assistant himself was absorbed into a green-colored book, still under Twilight’s orders to find a cure of her floppy horn problem. “Oooh! I bet she’ll like this one, too,” he muttered.

“Alone with your thoughts?”

“Gah!” Spike jumped and spun around with wide eyes, hugging the book tight. He breathed in relief when he saw it’s just me. “Tori? Tori! You’re ba—oh jeez!” He pointed at my forehead. “Dude, you look scary with that scar!”

My wing felt over the scar on reflex.  “...don’t I know it.”

Spike picked up the book he just dropped. “It’s...actually real?”

“It’s always been there,” I deadpanned. “My mane kept it out of sight, but my barber cut it too short.”

“S-seriously? All this time? Then why didn’t you…?” Spike furrowed his brows in thought, but then he looked at the book he was holding. Supernatural Remedies. “...Nevermind. I think I can get why…”

I trotted over to one side of the library. There, a surprisingly untouched shelf of newspapers laid organized. The local newspaper archive was small. Hardly anyone thought to save local articles to expand the collection before Twilight came along, so it fell to me, the hobo of the library, especially when it documented all of the rumors and commentary that surrounded me. Another shall join their ranks.

Right as I inserted the latest issue in, I sighted the shelf above it. A bigger archive, but instead of local news it contained Equestria-wide intrigue. Sometimes, I read them to get a bearing of Equestrian society at large. It’s as if my lurking instinct for /pol/ of 4chan never changed. But a thought or sense of curiosity...something compelled me. My eyes trailed across the ordered text before settling on a single one. I pulled it out.

A detailed account of the Cloudsdale Marathon two months ago—a long-distance race for pegasi. Nothing of note in the words save for the mention of prize money...but a picture of one of the participants gave me pause. A cocky grin, slick green mane and white coat like a wispy cloud—it’s him: Gem Contrail, confirmed by his name written in the caption.

Soon, I returned the article to its place. There was nothing more to see. I turned to Spike. “Need help cleaning up?”

Spike looked over the library and winced. Too caught up in his reading, time flew before he realized it. Now, it seemed to be nearing the late afternoon, and there was still a huge mess to clean. “Y-yeah… Please. By the way, have you seen Twilight? She went out looking for you along with the others.”

“They’ll...be occupied. They found the cure to their problems.” I smirked. “Twilight Flopple, right?”

“Hah! You read my mind!”

And so, we started picking up the books and put them back in order in their shelves. Spike led the organizing since he knew Twilight’s system best. I was lifting books with my wings, teeth and back while the dragon pointed where I needed to go. For stubby, short legs, they served Spike well, carrying enough books to obscure his sight as he climbed the ladder for the higher shelves. Even after a while, we were far from done.

During our work, a familiar cover caught my eye.

Mood and Magic: A Study of the Magical Science of Emotion was its name.

I still remembered: a therapist who stared at this very book.

...could it be?

Hefting it to my hooves, I opened to the first few pages where the acknowledgements and the author, Professor Snuggle, were detailed. A picture and her full name... Snuggle Therapy. I could see the resemblance. How fitting considering the number of times she mentioned “snuggle treatment” in her work. The acknowledgements spoke of gratitude toward her colleagues, toward her friends...but one line outweighed the rest.

“...and many snuggles to my sweetheart, Sound Therapy, for all her love and care.”

Never judge by the cover, but never know the full story.

After all, we are all fundamentally alone in this world. Whatever is told about ourselves in a lifetime will merely scratch the surface. The only one certain of his own life story will always be himself. Alone. A life ultimately unshared, never to be fully understood.

What did it mean for the brony in the closet?

“...hey, Spike?”

“Yeah?”

“Fluttershy heard it, but I never got to hear your entire life story. Mind if I do?”

Spike chuckled bashfully. “Hehehe! Am I getting popular or something? Yeah, sure. ...but why do you ask?”

“Meh.” I shut the book and resumed working. “Just bored.”