//------------------------------// // Chapter 17 // Story: Finding Inspiration // by bahatumay //------------------------------// Wind Shear opened the door, and he brightened. “Hey, friends!” “Hi, Windy!” Happy Trails said cheerfully. “Love what you've done with the place. I like the fence.” She jerked her head towards the wooden fence, the slats high and tight enough that it could not be seen through. “Yeah. It's for privacy. And to keep wild animals from the forest out.” He looked back towards the kitchen. “I hear there’s all kinds of monsters that live there,” he said, a bit louder than normal. “I heard that,” Morning Glory called from inside. Wind Shear chuckled and stepped aside. “Come on in,” he said. “Thanks!” Happy Trails bopped her head happily as she went through, and Green Hooves followed close behind, carrying a large baking pan on her back, their contribution to tonight's dinner. Fluttershy waved from her seat at the table; she had arrived only a little bit earlier. In front of her was a large selection of her finest cookies and a steamed (and still steaming) carrot dish, and Happy Trails brightened even further. She waited until Green Hooves had set her pan down, then gallantly pulled her chair out, and the larger mare’s cheeks tinged pleasantly pink as she sat down. Wind Shear returned from the kitchen. “You’ll be pleased to know that I have taken a more active role in dinner tonight,” he said pleasantly, setting the pot he held on the table. “This is oven-roasted squash with garlic and parsley*, and was completely my doing…” He paused, letting them look nervously amongst themselves before finishing, “though I was heavily supervised by Morning Glory the whole time.” (*I referenced this recipe; someone make it and tell me if it’s any good) He couldn’t hide a smile as they all sighed with varying degrees of relief. This was only their third dinner together, but his abysmal cooking skills were already legendary. Morning Glory stuck her head out to confirm that. “Yeah. Good thing, too, because he started out chopping up three heads of garlic instead of three cloves,” she called. Green Hooves snorted a quiet laugh, the loudest sound she'd made all day. Even Fluttershy hid her smile behind her hooves. “Well, at least you won’t have to worry about vamponies anymore, eh, Windy?” Happy Trails laughed. “Not at all! And even if one did come around, I’d just sic Morning Glory on it.” He looked over his shoulder. “Get us a nice scarecrow in your garden!” Morning Glory emerged, carrying her own dish. “I’d stick you out there, it’d scare more birds away,” she snarked as she set it down. Wind Shear chuckled and took this in stride. As they ate and talked, Wind Shear noticed Morning Glory seemed to be a bit quiet. He leaned in close. “You ok?” “Yeah, yeah. It's just… really nice to have friends.” She lifted her bowl to her lips and lapped up some water; her lack of throat muscles not letting her get water any other way. Really, though, nopony here even looked twice anymore, and it was a great feeling, being… accepted. “Honestly, I don't think this could get much better.” Wind Shear’s eyes snapped open. It was the middle of the night, and something wasn't right. He rolled over and reached out to touch Morning Glory, but his hoof hit nothing but air. He frowned, now fully awake, and rolled over to get a closer look. Morning Glory was gone. He sat up, ears pricked, but there were no noises from the bathroom. A cold feeling settled in his stomach. She'd been feeling a bit nauseous earlier, but he'd attributed it to his earlier attempt at baked potatoes (he'd been a bit too liberal with the thyme as in seasoning and time as in how long he’d left them in the oven). But why would she leave? And why wouldn’t she wake him up? He lay back down, unsettled. He trusted her completely, of course, and she probably had a good reason for not; but at the same time, he knew he probably wouldn't sleep well until she came back. Morning Glory galloped through the forest. Her snakes didn't even try to protest, they just coiled against and over each other to try and hold on. Finally, she arrived at her destination. She scattered a few raccoons and other nocturnal creatures in her haste and pounded on Fluttershy's door. After what felt like an eternity and a half, Fluttershy opened the door ever so slightly. “Um, h-” she started blearily. Her eyes widened as she recognized her visitor. “Mor-?” Morning Glory’s eyes were wild, her chest heaving as she panted for breath. “Where's the zebra?” she demanded, cutting her off. “What?” “The zebra! The one who almost became a tree from your story! Where is she? How can I find her?” “Zecora?” Fluttershy tried to parse her jumbled words. “She lives in the Everfree Forest, too.” “Where? Can you take me there?” Fluttershy rubbed her eyes and suppressed a yawn. “Y- yes, but… Does it have to be right now?” “Yes!” Fluttershy panted. “Alright, it's… it's here,” she said, gesturing at the treehouse. Morning Glory darted to the door, ignoring the masks and other decorations, and knocked rapidly. There was a dull thump, as if a pony had just fallen off a bed, some mumbled cursing, as if a pony had just realized they'd fallen out of bed, and then the door opened with a zebra standing there there, with her mane messy like she'd just been abruptly awaken from bed—and angry, like she'd been prematurely and against her will awoken from bed. “What does this mean? It's the middle of the night! / What is so important that it could not wait for light?” she demanded. “Can you undo a potion done about fifteen years ago?” Zecora looked strangely at her. “My ears must be failing, fifteen years ago? / What could have possessed you to delay so slow?” “It kinda never occurred to me; but now everything’s changed! I need your help!” Zecora glowered. “At three am you make such a scene,” she groused. “It had best be something I have never before seen.” In response, Morning Glory pulled her hood off her head. Zecora looked at the snakes, then back at Morning Glory. She blinked. As if uncertain, she looked at one snake head, and followed it back to the mare’s head. She looked at where they met. For the first time, she noticed that her visitor had slitted eyes and tiny fangs. Then, with a tight nod, Zecora stepped back and let them in. Zecora listened to her story, and hissed under her breath when Morning Glory described the recipe she'd followed. “I know of the potion you did create, / but all I can do is bewail your fate. // For to undo this, we’d need to do it anew / and use hairs of yours previous to your making the brew.” Morning Glory sank to her haunches in equal parts shock and horror. “Are you sure?” she asked hopelessly. “As certain as I am of the sun’s rising tomorrow. / I’d have to rebrew it, and your hair I’d need to borrow. // And furthermore, where did you even find that recipe? / It’s strictly forbidden, for reasons plain to see.” “It was scribbled in the back of this book I found in the bookstore, bottom of the barrel.” She shook her head in defeat, and brought one hoof up to touch the bottom of her barrel. Fluttershy made the connection instantly. Her eyes widened. “Zecora, you don’t think…?” Zecora chuckled wryly. “The changes this potion causes are quite profound / Even I can’t say how deep it goes down. // I cannot promise it will be fine / but I suppose we’ll find out in ten months’ time.” Ten months later… Wind Shear paced outside nervously. He would have been in there—he should have been in there—but he’d passed out once and they’d kicked him out, saying they already would have two patients and didn’t need three. Being still too afraid to go into a larger town with an actual hospital—like, say, Ponyville, where Fluttershy lived—Morning Glory had elected to stay here. And judging by the insults she was slinging, she was somewhat regretting this decision. He picked idly at the food she’d made, probably part of a distraction technique, but he didn’t taste anything. He wished he could hear those insults a little clearer. He’d never felt so helpless. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he heard the tiniest cry. His heart jumped, and he raced to the door. After another few moments, the door opened, and Fluttershy nodded. He darted inside. Morning Glory lay on her back, holding a small wrapped bundle tightly against her chest. “It’s a girl,” she said softly. She gently unwrapped it to reveal the face of a little foal, a little lighter than his coat, wearing a bulbous knitted hat. Aroused by the movement, she opened her eyes, and there it was. Those were his eyes. His heart tightened. A filly! His filly! She was adorable! She blinked at him with quiet, innocent interest. He waved a hoof at her, a growing smile of pure joy crossing his face. He was a father! And then a tiny snake slowly poked its head out from under her hat. Its tongue flicked curiously. Morning Glory smiled sheepishly. “Surprise.”