Most campers learned to leave their alarm clocks at home by their second year—why bother packing the extra weight when the camp reveille did the job fine enough? Campers tottered out of their tents every morning in ones and twos, their hooves jammed in their ears as they made their way down to the lake. There they saluted the Equestrian flag, sang the national anthem, and stood around bored and restless for several minutes as the instructors announced the upcoming day’s schedule.
Rainbow Dash slept through it all, as she always did.
When she did wake up, the left side of her face throbbed like an overinflated water balloon. Though she didn’t have a mirror in her tent—what kind of camper worried about having one, anyway—she guessed she would be walking around that day with a doozy of a shiner over her eye. She wasn’t able to open it quite all the way, and the area beneath it was swollen and warm to the touch.
She was expelled from flight camp. For good. As far as thoughts to start the day off with went, that was not the one she wanted to have in her head.
She sat up in her cot and glanced over at her saddlebags, which lay rumpled on the floor by the wall. Aside from a towel, a few comics, and her very own pair of Wonderbolts flight goggles, she had not brought much with her to camp, and everything had packed quickly.
Even her possessions were trying to get her out of there as fast as possible.
Rainbow rolled out of her cot and winced as her face throbbed with warm pain. She couldn’t go outside looking like she’d run into a wall, could she? After some thought, she spat into one of her hooves and tried to flatten her mane over her left eye. It wasn’t a perfect cover by any stretch of the imagination, but she hoped it would ward off the suspicions of most ponies.
She suddenly wished she had a mirror so she could have been sure. Oh, well. It would have to do.
The little filly squinted as the mid-morning sun hit her eyes on her way out of the tent. With nothing else to do as she adjusted to the light, she paused to take in one last view of the campgrounds. Fed by three different rainbowfalls, Rainbow Lake sat in the middle, anchoring everything else on its iridescent shores. The boxy, thirties-era exterior of the cafeteria squatted near the edge of the lake a quarter-loop away from the campers’ tents, while streams of campers navigated the training course on the lake’s opposite banks. The staff stayed in cottages off to the left, and a large schoolhouse separated the staff lodgings from the campers.
Rainbow Dash snorted and set off toward the cafeteria. Dumb place. Even if they were kicking her out, she was entitled to one last meal on the house. However, she’d only gone a few steps before her eye and ears started to flit around like radar dishes. If at all possible, she wanted to get there unseen.
Her vigilance paid off: by the time she left the campers’ area, she had done so undetected. The trail leading down to the lake doubled back on itself multiple times during its descent—had this been any other day, she would have glided all the way down to the cafeteria as easily as leaving a letter to drift on the wind.
Once she’d descended by the lake side, Rainbow Dash began passing little knots of ponies as they converged on the cafeteria, or emerged from it. She kept her gaze fixed on the path just in front of her hooves, taking in every subtle curve, every sidestep it made as it meandered around the lakefront. In time, she found herself anticipating parts of the path before she reached them, plucking them from two years of camp as her hooves touched a familiar bump, or shuffled over a grainy patch she knew to expect. Of all the memories she would take from this camp! Why was her brain trying to put the walk back to the cafeteria in with them?
Before long, she found herself at the cafeteria’s front doors. The chatter of a hundred campers rattled from within, suddenly spiking in volume as a trio of fillies filed their way out. Rainbow Dash dove to the side and waited for them to pass before she could even think about it. One of them told the others a joke, and their mutual laughter prevented them from noticing the filly squatting on the other side of the door.
Hold on a minute. Sneaking around? Avoiding other ponies? Being quiet? She got back on her hooves. Since when did she become that kind of filly? Her eyes hardened. Nope. Uh-uh. She was going about this all wrong. If this was to be her last day of flight camp ever, she was going to go out in style.
She turned around, braced herself on her front legs, and yelled at the top of her lungs. “Hee-yah!”
Her back hooves blew the door open, and the diners fell silent as they turned in their seats. Rainbow Dash stepped through the open threshold with her head held high, basking in the gazes of her peers as her hooffalls echoed through the building. The high windows shone like spotlights, lighting her way as she sauntered up the middle aisle.
The younger campers shrank back from her as she passed; the older ones fixed her with flattened ears and hard frowns. Foals. What did she care about their opinions anymore? Flight camp was stupid. If they couldn’t handle how hardcore she was, that was their problem.
“Well, well, well! If it isn’t Rainbow Crash.”
Two colts stepped in front of her path—colts she’d had plenty of... dealings with by that point. She always thought their necks were sufficiently thick enough to act as support columns at the Cloudesseum. The taller one, tan like dirt, reeked of cheap deodorant, and the shorter one with the darker brown coat didn’t even bother putting any on. She smirked.
“Hey, Buster. Hey, Buck.” She brushed past them like they weren’t even there.
“Where’re you going in such a rush, Rainbow Crash?” The taller one, Buck, stuck his hoof between her legs. One of them snagged for the shortest of instants, but it was enough to interrupt her stride. A murmur spread throughout the cafeteria.
Rainbow Dash’s grin faltered, but she caught it quickly enough to hold onto her pride. “Me? I’m not in any hurry.” She faced her adversaries to prove it. “What do you want?”
“We’re not looking for much,” said Buster, closing in. Despite lacking the vertical presence of his musclebound cohort, he still towered over the filly by at least half a head. “I just wanted to know something, Rainbow Crash.”
Rainbow Dash held her ground beneath his slitted blue eye. “I’m all ears.”
Buster grinned, revealing an array of disgustingly white teeth. “I heard it on the slip stream this morning that you were caught flying on the Circuit after it was closed.”
Rainbow Dash cackled and rolled her eyes. “Ugh, seriously? You just heard about that? You’re faster at growing pimples than you are about hearing the news. And it’s not even big news, either. I fly the Circuit when it’s closed all the time.”
“Well, you can’t be very good at it, Rainbow Crash.” Buck leaped over her head and boxed her in on the other side. He reached for the part of her mane hiding her black eye. “When did you get this, an—”
Rainbow Dash lashed out with a head feint. “You lay a hoof on me, and I swear to the Princess that I’m gonna lay you out.” Her cheeks flushed.
“Aww, is Rainbow Crash getting upset?” Buster crooned from behind. “Does Rainbow Crash not like getting touched?”
A pair of heavy hooves landed on her flanks and pushed her off balance. She careered face-first into a chest reeking of Foal Spice, and a burst of tight pain swarmed the left side of her vision.
“That hurt, you jerk!” she cried, whirling on her attacker. “How about you have the guts to do that to my face next time, wi—”
Another push from behind. She stumbled on her hooves amid a storm of nasal guffawing. “Cut it out!”
“Never, Rainbow Crash,” sneered Buster. “This is too much fun!” He pushed her again, and she tottered precariously on her back hoof.
“Stop—”
“Think fast!” A final shove on her wings sent her over the top, and before she could do anything else, her face crashed into the floor. Both of the colts were outright howling with glee.
“I’m sorry,” Buster scoffed, running his hoof through her mane. “Did we interrupt you, Rainbow Crash?”
An epiphany entered her mind like a heavenly choir as she bolted back on her hooves. She was already expelled from flight camp, right? Nothing she did from this point forward mattered. The staff wouldn’t be able to touch her, which meant that finally—after having to suffer through two summers of endless assaults on her height, flying skills, and future prospects from some dumbbells with swamp gas for brains—she could finally get even. She spoke her next words slowly and clearly to maximize the chance that as they went through one ear and out the other, they would leave behind a swath of head trauma.
“The name is Rainbow Dash.” She scratched her hoof back along the floor, unable to care less that her voice chose that moment to break like a window. “And I am gonna kill ya!”
She charged. All she needed was one punch, and not even the coroner would be able to identify the mealy pulp she left behind. The oaf wasn’t even bothering to move out of the way—surprise lit up his big, stupid mug like a bawdy Manehattan billboard.
“Rainbow Dash, stop!”
A pink and yellow blur rushed into the vengeful filly’s vision, driving spikes of adrenaline straight into her wings. With a mighty wrench, Rainbow Dash tore herself back just enough so her hoof stopped a mere whisper in front of the newcomer’s muzzle.
“F-Fluttershy?” she stammered as she touched back down on the floor. “W-what were you thinking, cutting in front of me like that? I could’ve sent your teeth on a one-way trip to your brain!”
“Then I’m glad you didn’t.”
The sudden hardness in the filly’s voice caught Rainbow flat-hoofed. She glanced up at her eyes and found herself backing away—those teal-green rounds bored into her brain with the same intensity the head counselor had unleashed on her the night before. Her wings snapped shut against her sides. “But I— I, uh...”
“Shh, shh.” Fluttershy’s voice resumed its normal, quietly musical tone. “Let’s find a place to sit, shall we?”
She led the stupefied filly past Buck, who moved aside without seeming to notice he did so. A fly buzzed in to investigate his teeth, and was able to do so free of difficulty and inconvenience. The other ponies in the cafeteria immediately brought heads and hooves close together and exchanged furious whispers.
The two fillies found a corner when the campers there quickly cleared their places. Rainbow Dash took a seat with her back against the wall while Fluttershy entered the breakfast line, returning with a bowl of oats, a plate of apple slices, and a cup of carrot juice.
“Here. Eat.”
Rainbow Dash stared at the food for a minute and knew the gesture was wasted—a huge stone was plugging up her stomach, and she pushed the tray away without touching anything. “Why did you stop me?”
On the other side of the table, Fluttershy’s mouth collapsed into a tiny “o”. “Why did I?” she squeaked, tapping her hooves together. “Well... you see. I didn’t want to see anypony get hurt.”
“Really, now?” Rainbow didn’t bother to rein in the rising of her voice. “And you didn’t think those swamp whompers weren’t hurting me back there? That’s great. Wait to step in until Rainbow Dash’s the bad guy, huh?”
“Um...” Fluttershy fidgeted in place. “That wasn’t what I really meant at all...”
“Of course you didn’t. You open your mouth and say some stuff, but you don’t have the guts to back it up.”
“Rainbow Dash, there’s something I need to tell you—”
“And I’ve got something to tell you,” snarled Rainbow, pounding the table with her hoof. Some carrot juice spilled onto the oats. “Stay out of other ponies’ businesses if you know what’s best for you. Do you know how long those two have been yanking my feathers?”
Fluttershy shook her head.
“Ever since I’ve been here,” Rainbow answered. “And it was all because I beat them in a sprint during my first week of camp.”
“Maybe they keep bullying you because you keep reacting to them.” Then Fluttershy’s eyes shot wide open, and she clapped her hooves across her mouth. Too late. She had offered herself up with those words. Rainbow stood up and tore into her like a starving dragon.
“Reacting? You think it’s because I’m reacting to them? Are you kidding me? You think those morons would go away just because I ignored them? That only works for a little bit. When I wouldn’t respond to them, they turned on the other ponies until they wouldn’t hang out with me anymore. Once they got me alone, they just turned it up from there.”
Fluttershy bit her lip. “I... I don’t understand. Why would they even go that far?”
Rainbow threw her hooves up and sank back into her seat. “I don’t know.” Her anger left her in a sigh, leaving behind a hollow melancholy in her chest. “If I did, they wouldn’t be bothering me anymore, would they?”
By that point in the conversation, business had returned to normal in the cafeteria. Somepony spilled their tray on the other side of the building, drawing enthusiastic applause from the other campers. The sun had advanced into the windows on the far wall, from where it shoved oblivious light into Rainbow Dash’s eyes.
“This place stinks,” she muttered, rising from her seat. She gazed over the other campers as they left the cafeteria in larger and larger clusters. “The rules stink, the staff stink, the ponies stink. Everything stinks. Wind Storm was right. It’s time I headed home.”
“Rainbow...” Fluttershy reached her hoof out, but she was too late. Rainbow left her breakfast tray where it was, made her way over to the side exit, and stepped outside.
Her tirade in the cafeteria had drained her. Just by putting one hoof after another, step by step, she found herself halfway up the path to the campers’ tents without remembering how she got there. She looked out over the lake and saw strings of foals threading through the rings of the training course.
Yep. She turned back around. It all stinks.
“...bow dash...”
She flicked her ears. That sounded like Fluttershy’s voice. Then again, that filly spoke so quietly that there was no way her voice could have carried all the way over from the cafeteria. Nevertheless, Rainbow lingered and listened for a few more moments, just in case she had heard correctly.
Nothing followed. She just needed to leave camp already. Shaking her head, she started up the path once more, determined not to hesitate again.
“Rainbow Dash!”
Her hoof rose to her face before the voice finished calling her name. That pony just didn’t give up, did she? She turned around in place, flicking her tail from side to side, as Fluttershy galloped up the path.
“What is it this time?” Rainbow called down.
Fluttershy’s head lowered in a fit of panting by the time she drew even with her. “Why’d you leave?” she asked from behind her mane. “I didn’t get the chance to tell you...”
“Tell me?” Rainbow Dash’s ears perked up. “Tell me what?”
“About what happened at the office after the counselor led you away.”
“Huh?”
Fluttershy gulped. “Well... now I’m not sure if you’ll be glad to hear this, since, um... you said it was time for you to go home.” She shifted her hooves as if she were standing on hot embers. “I mean, if that’s what you really want to do, I suppose I can’t stop you or anything. In fact, maybe I should be encouraging you to take your own path and—”
Rainbow moaned and pressed a hoof against the other pegasus’ mouth. “Spit it or save it.”
A squeak escaped from Fluttershy’s lips as she crouched low to the cloud. “Please don’t be mad at me for doing this,” she babbled, “but I went ahead and convinced the head counselor to let you stay here after all. I—I hope that’s okay with you, and that you’re not mad at me! Eep!” She shut her eyes and clasped her hooves over her head.
A whomping, however, was the last thing on Rainbow Dash’s mind. Her head flitted to the far off horizon, the words she just heard failing to find hoofholds in her brain before they were swept out of her head. She was certain she had misunderstood. “I’m... not expelled?”
Fluttershy’s chin made a little rut in the trail as she shook her head. “I just assumed you really did love being here, and that you love to fly and go fast and do all sorts of wonderful things in the air and if I’m wrong about that, I’m so sorry—I shouldn’t have assumed anything.”
Rainbow Dash did the only thing for a pony to do in her situation: she sat down. Something drained away through her spine, and its absence spread a strange kind of warmth throughout her body. Her vision still struggled to focus on anything closer than a thousand yards off, but her hoof came upon a trembling shoulder and tapped it.
“Hey,” she said. “You really did it? You got the counselors to back off?”
The terrified pegasus looked up at Rainbow from under her mane and gave the barest hint of a nod.
A breeze rushed up the hill and over the two fillies. Rainbow felt the spaces in her head expand to twice their normal volume, and her mind cleared out the debris from her encounter in the cafeteria. Her mane played out behind her like a small, cheerful flag.
For the first time that day, a smile—a real one, rooted in a clear and untroubled present—emerged onto her face. “Wow.” She looked back out over the camp with new vision, spotting a trio of pegasi planing strands of rainbow from the lake’s surface with their wingtips. “That’s something.”
She leaned over, wrapped her hooves around Fluttershy’s neck, and pulled her close. The soft-spoken pony’s coat was warm, and the silky heft of her mane caught Rainbow off guard. Flight camp just wasn’t one of those places where personal appearances were worth keeping up. And yet, Rainbow Dash caught herself wondering what would happen if she groomed herself more often.
Not that she was about to fly to Manehattan and buy herself a bunch of Fifth Avenue conditioners, of course. She didn’t have time to worry about that kind of girly business. Nevertheless, she wondered.
“Why help me?” She helped the other filly to her hooves. “I... I was really mean to you last night.”
Fluttershy flinched. “Oh. Um. Well, I remembered what you said about me ruining your life and everything...” Her eyes slid to the side.
Rainbow Dash cringed.
“No, no, it’s okay,” said Fluttershy, waving her hooves. “You were right to be angry with me. If I hadn’t been in your way, you probably would’ve flown Deadmare’s Dive just fine.” Her tail flicked repeatedly as she dug for more words. “It—I felt bad for keeping you from your goal. That’s when I asked the head counselor to let you stay.” Her eyes drifted toward the sky in apprehensive recollection. “Besides... despite hitting me, and yelling at me, and throwing stuff at my head, you seemed—nice.”
All Rainbow Dash could do was stare. Did this filly ever carry a grudge? Did she even know what one was? A long moment of silence passed between them.
“I...” Fluttershy tapped her hoof on the cloud. “I guess I’ll be going, then.” She turned to walk back down toward the lake.
“No!” Rainbow put a hoof to her mouth, but her outburst had already sent the filly into a hunch. “I mean—wait up.” She trotted over to the skittish pony and raised a hoof across her chest so she couldn’t run off right away. What did she even want to say? Words were some other pony’s talent. She expressed herself best in the sky, where her wings spelled out a language she understood better. Fortunately, Fluttershy remained where she was, one teal eye looking down at her with quiet attention.
Rainbow Dash knew what she wanted to say was in her head, but she couldn’t get to it with her huge brain just standing there in her way! She clenched her teeth and tore through her gray matter like a werewolf—or was that more a zombie’s doing?—and all that did was leave bits of brain scattered on the floor of her mind.
Well, she accomplished more than that. The words she wanted to say wobbled from the debris like thin smoke, and she managed to glimpse one word of it before it faded into the background. “Thanks,” she said, lowering her hoof. She started picking at a little lump on the path, realized what she was doing, and shook her head out.
“Um. You’re welcome.” Fluttershy began making her way back to camp, and this time, Rainbow didn’t bother saying anything else. She shook her head and headed toward her tent, unable to articulate why she suddenly felt so out of it all.
She needed a nap.
Yeah, a nap would do nicely.