//------------------------------//
// 1000 Words 
// Story: 1000 Words 
// by Fluttershy Yay lover 
//------------------------------//

	The Quail Lake shimmered in the afternoon sun, its fountain gurgling, the meadow just a little beyond it. Students wandered aimlessly around it, and if I were outside, I would too.

I was new to Sunnyside Day Academy, a preppy, uptight boarding school where you could find artsy parties everyday if you had the right connections. But the best part of the school was the curriculum. 

Everyone at Sunnyside was some kind of art prodigy, and you couldn’t get in unless you had some serious skills. I had passed with ease, and my parents were delighted. They were also excited because they could do to other parents what the parents had done to them. In Fillydelphia, every parent at my school had something to brag about their foal, while my parents had nothing. I had never done anything extraordinary until late, so other parents just laughed at mine mercilessly, and saying that it would be the day when I finally even attempted to reach for the stars, and they sneered that even if I did, I would surely fail. They didn't have any right to say those horribly rude things to my family, because I was the only foal in the school who didn't have a failing art grade. They didn't have any right to say those horribly rude things to my family, because their foals didn't get into an all-exclusive academy.

I was still staring at the lake when Roseluck, one of my roommates, tapped on my shoulder. I whipped around, and she folded her forearms with mock-impatience. 

“Well, you seemed distracted. What’s going on?” She asked, unfolding her arms and quitting the fake scowl.

“Oh, it’s nothing. Just something I saw. . . .” I trailed off, almost dreamily. Rose cocked her head a little, obviously confused. I sighed. “Look over here. It’s that lake. Um, old what’s-its-name lake.” I kept tapping my hooves, pretending not to know the name of the lake.

“You mean Quail Lake?”

“Yes! That’s it! Now, look at it, it’s beautiful.” I didn't wait for a reply. I grabbed her shoulders and shoved her toward the window. “Look.” I said firmly, pointing at the lake. Her eyes widened a little. She pressed her hands and nose to the window.

“Oh my goodness, you have to paint it!” She squealed, suddenly popping up. “It’s so pretty! How can they just walk around all that, and not stare?!” asked Rose, pointing at the students around it. I shrugged. The door suddenly slammed open, and Raindrops flounced in. Raindrops generally liked using the clay more than the pencil, which was lucky, considering she couldn't exactly hold the pencil correctly.

“Guys, hi!” She said as she climbed up on her bed. We waved slowly. “What are you doing?” I tried to stop Rose from answering, but I was too late.

“Crystal is gonna paint this amazingly pretty lake! Look!” She grabbed Raindrops’s arm and pulled her to the window. Raindrops stared, wide-eyed, her mouth agape.

“I can’t paint that! I major in drawing, remember?” I cried. Rose spun around on her heels, a real scowl on, her face darkening. She stomped over toward me slowly. Raindrops turned, and yelped softly in fear.

“But you minor in painting.” Rose spat, poking my ribs at every word. I didn't know Rose could be this persuasive. Or scary. “You can paint it. You are a great artist. So, please, do it!” Her face softened, and she stepped away. Raindrops let out a sigh of relief.

“I-I, but. . . . What the . . . .?” I sputtered helplessly. Rose let out an exasperated sigh, and rolled her eyes. She never rolls her eyes unless she’s faking it, like, really faking it. Kudos, I thought bitterly. I sighed, mine echoing Rose’s, and crossed my forearms. “Oh, fine.” Rose clapped her hooves happily.
***
I stared. I was just hours ago given the task to paint this?! Raindrops stood next to me, a digital camera in her hooves. The lot was empty, and the only sound was the night wind and the occasional rustle of leaves. 

“We should wait until morning,” Raindrops said uncertainly, a hint of fear in her voice.

“What are you two doing out this late?” A large hoof gripped my shoulder. Raindrops and I screamed, and we spun around.  Mr. Pallet, a painting teacher with a hint of Prench accent, towered over us. I let out a small whimper, and Raindrops clutched me in fear.

“Rose sent us to take a picture of the lake so I can paint it. We all think it’s beautiful, and she kind of forced me.” I offered meekly.

“Painting is fine, and it’s a wonderful idea, even, but, please, do so after class.” Mr. Pallet nodded us a dismissal, a small, faraway glint in his eyes. Raindrops and I scurried off to our room. Rose sat her desk, listening to some kind of music, painting slowly. Raindrops and I burst through the door, and flew to the floor, landing in a gasping heap. Rose knocked off her music and spun around.
“Well?” She demanded. “Did you get the picture?” I looked up at her with a scowl.
“N-no! Mr. Pallet said we had to wait until after class.” I sat up on my knees and rubbed my forearms to develop warmth.
“Ooh! Why did that old fussy have to do that?!” Rose pouted, jutting out her lip.
“He. . . He did have a good point,” Raindrops pointed out softly. Rose stared at her disbelievingly. I stood up.

“Whatever, it doesn't matter, we’ll just do it in the morning,” I declared defiantly. Rose opened her mouth to speak, but I talked to keep her quiet. “Unless of course you want to take the picture.” 
******
I painted the Lake for the next week, and it won contests thereafter. And Rose was so proud of me that she made sure I kept painting.