//------------------------------// // 9. Bitchometers and Bad Moods Brought on by Budding Hormones // Story: Pink Alicorn Blues // by Hail King Sombra //------------------------------// Coffee had slowly walked the length of the cave at the entrance so much now she could swear she was wearing a trench in the hard, stone-riddled floor. Why couldn’t Yakut’s caves have nice, soft dirt? She groaned inwardly. And why am I the one that keeps getting sent away during these talks? Buck this. She stomped back over to where Kingsley was sitting making dirt circles in boredom when a pair of brown forehooves came into his view. “Hey Coffee,” he said, not looking up. Not really interested, the newsmare looked at what he had drawn next to the circles he was currently working on. It looked like a simplistic version of one of those overly-complicated graph charts her boss used to love to show at staff meetings, the ones with the bars of varying lengths. She thought then that she recognized it. “What’s that?” she couldn’t help asking, pointing at it. “New Bitchometer,” he replied, not looking up. “Like it?” “I thought that was only something Buttface made you do when you were possessed,” she said absently, squinting to see who the little horsey faces on the top of each bar were supposed to represent. “It was a collaborative effort,” he said absently. “Was about the only thing we agreed on without his powers of persuasion pressuring me.” There were three bars and three horse head images - one perched at the top of each bar. Now that it was confirmed what his crude dirt drawing was, she did recognize it - sort of. Coffee read them aloud from left to right. “Let’s see who made this month’s top of the charts,” she muttered. “Coming in at 10%...Princess Celestia. She was off your chart last month. She’s back on now?” “I tripped over that cat on our sidewalk during hers and Luna’s scheduled eclipse, remember?” frowned Kingsley. “I think you should have put your own clumsy hooves down instead of the Princess for that one,” she suggested. “Watch it, Coffee. Next month’s chart has an opening.” “Sorry.” The next one was rather predictable. “And coming in at 40% bitch...her Pinkness?” she motioned with her head over to the other side of the cave. “Uh huh.” Third - and the highest-placed winner at a full 50% was… “...is that...Shining Armor?” Coffee asked in quiet surprise. “Yep.” “Can’t say I disagree with that one,” the mare nodded. “Pretty good, pretty good. A+ for amusement.” “Thank you, Coffee.” “But you’ll have to call it something other than ‘bitchometer’ if you’re including him,” she suggested. He snorted, annoyed. “Killjoy.” “You know it!” she said, pleased with herself. “Hey, how about, ‘assometer’? You know - like a horse’s - “ “It’s my Bitchometer and I will name it, thank you very much,” he said sourly. “Though that is a pretty good name. For this month, at least.” He looked over at the other two cave occupants. They were deep in discussion, apparently. “How’s the lovefest going over on the other side of the cave?” “Like I give a flip.” Coffee refused to glance over at the royal couple. This whole damn thing was fraying her very last nerve. She was quite frankly tired of seeing their muzzles at this point in their torturously long time cooped up together. Kingsley snorted a lengthy and funny, almost musical nicker. It was his way of agreeing with the brown mare. He seemed to do it almost to amuse himself sometimes. She had often caught him doing it in the shower, along with his habit of singing - which was often terrible - unless he was singing at the deepest end of his vocal range, which then she had found to be rather sexy, though she would NEVER tell him that. Whenever she was tempted to tell him, she knew it was because she was beginning her heat. When she would realize why she was wanting to say something, Coffee would literally head for the hills surrounding Yakut valley to go roost with the other local mares also in heat who didn’t want to get impregnated. Those retreats never lasted the length of her estrus, however, as the younger valley mares were so gossipy they got on her nerves and she would come cantering back home to see Kingsley prancing around, goaded into displaying for her when catching wind of her hormonal scent… Her eyes suddenly grew wide. “Oh...crapbaskets!” Kingsley refused to be distracted from his dirt circles. “What is it?” he asked in as bored a tone as he could muster. She nudged him with her forehoof, maybe a little too hard. “When was the last time I was in heat?” she asked urgently. “Ow!” he complained, then shrugged. “Dunno. Last - “ “Wasn’t it during Freckles and Drizzle's last visit?” she asked desperately. “That was…” Kingsley straightened. Then he bolted to his feet. Getting in her face, he growled in a low, frantic voice, “What in Tartarus made you think of that?!?” Coffee smiled dumbly at the dark stallion. He’s so...assertive when he’s upset, she thought in passing. She shook her head violently, coming back to her senses. “I don’t know,” she said slowly. “That wasn’t that long ago then.” “No!” the stallion said and it came out in a ridiculously squeaky high pitch that helped quash Coffee’s passing fancy for him. She sputtered, laughing. “What was that?” He cleared his throat - twice. “No - nothing!” he said defensively. “It’s drafty in here!” “No it’s not,” she protested, feeling her mood settle back down to normal. “Oh, wait. It is, actually.” She stuck her tongue out to which the unicorn snickered. “And you call me immature - “ “I’m feeling for the direction of the breeze, you dummy!” she chided, looking back behind him. There must have been some tiny cracks in the cave wall they had missed seeing before, probably hidden behind bushes that cut out the ability of the sun’s light to give away their presence. “It’s coming from over there, past you.” She trotted around to the other side of him, then sighed when his scent faded. “Oh good. As long as you stay downwind of me - “ “Hey!” he argued, offended. “I showered before we came here. You insisted.” He lifted his head in slight offense. “I didn’t think I was that bad.” “Shut up,” she interrupted. “Stay downwind of me so your musk doesn’t…” her voice lowered. “You know...aggravate my…” Kingsley grinned wickedly. “Your...what?” he asked, waggling his eyebrows. “...ovaries? Okay? You happy now that I said it?” “Very,” he grinned a toothy grin. “It doesn’t take much to make me happy, Coffee, but that was a bonus.” It was her turn to snort. “Hrumph. Small things amuse small minds.” She shot a look of death at him. “And if you tell Mrs. Lovehorse over there I’ll - “ She stopped in mid sentence, mouth open. Kingsley stared at her, thinking the same thing at the same instant. “Lovehorse!” he exclaimed and she moaned. Coffee Talk facehoofed herself. When she pulled her hoof away, she caught the charcoal stallion smirking. “What?” she asked acidly. “Well, if she’s to blame, that’s good news,” he replied. “What?!? Why?” the mare sputtered. “Why? It means she’s feeling better!”