Chrysalis, frozen in her fang-baring position, sensed multiple hoofsteps within range. Perhaps another field trip, there to hear the tell-tale stories of the deserted queen and her monster and pint-sized demon allies?
“Look, Mother! This is the fine mare that I’ve been writing poems about,” a familiar voice chirped.
Tiger Tornado came into view, wearing a rose pink dress and a lavender flower in her hair.
Next to Tiger Tornado, was a taller cream yellow earth pony with fluffy ears, pink spots, a white chest and hooves, and green eyes. The mare flicked her blonde tail, one eye twitching as her mouth hung open for several moments.
“H-Honey, I thought this mare would be a little more…”
“I know, I know. She isn’t exactly the most perfect creature, but who is? We all have dirty laundry, like you said,” Tiger gave a wide grin upon finishing her words.
“...I was going to say a little more animate, dear,” Mother sighed, shaking her head.
“What? She isn’t dead,” Tiger’s smile lessened.
“Unless she pulls a Discord, she might as well be,” Mother admitted. “And your teachers have filled you in about these three?”
“I took a pop quiz on them too,” Tiger smiled, nodding her head. “A monster with no empathy, another with greed for power, and an abandoned queen, devoid of any love from others. Feeding on what she could, and it never being enough.”
Mother frowned, placing her hoof on Tiger’s shoulder and side-stepping closer to her daughter.
“I understand, honey,” Mother whispered. “What does she do for you, that brings you back here with more poems?”
“She holds me,” Tiger replied. “And I feel like the storm in my heart settles to a windy stir, beating in my chest and bathing me in warmth.”
“That’s wonderful,” Mother gave a hint of a smile. “But imagine a mare that could hold you, speak sweet nothings to you, please you, cook meals and desserts for you, marry you, have your foals, buy you any object your heart desires.”
Tiger felt her head spinning, her eyes darting from Chrysalis to Mother.
“She’s a lovely statue to look at,” Mother admitted. “But you deserve nothing less, my tiger lily. Forgive me.”
“There’s n-nothing to forgive, Mother,” Tiger sighed, blinking away moisture from her eyes. “But my heart wants her.”
“I know,” Mother admitted. “And if you want to come back here till your mane is grey, I can’t stop you. But her presence in your heart shouldn’t stop you from being the best author that Equestria’s ever seen, okay?”
“Okay,” Tiger nodded.
“Speaking of writing, did you write a poem?” Mother asked.
Tiger glanced at the pieces of paper in her backpack, before closing it with a sharp zip.
“No, I didn’t.”