November 25th, 3095 Imperial Calender (1522 AD)
Scootaloo's house
Depressi yawned, shrugging the blanket off his shoulder as he reached down to the side of the couch, grabbing his sandals and belt. As he put them on, he subconsciously cracked his neck, working out the kinks in his back.
"Why'd it have to be the couch? I'd take an air-mattress, a sleeping bag. Hell, I'd be fine with a Cloud. But why the fucking couch?", he muttered to himself. He understood the need, of course. But that didn't mean he couldn't complain about it.
Finally, with the straps of his sandals and belt secured, he made his way to the door. The one benefit of sleeping on the couch was that he was close to the door, allowing him to go about his morning flight without much need to focus on not waking the others. He opened the door and began to walk out, shutting his eyes as a big yawn came over him.
Just in time for a gust of frigid wind to catch him in the face.
His eyes shot open and widened beyond their normal early morning bleariness. In every direction he could see, on everything in sight, was a fine white substance. Dark grey clouds sat above, with the occasional weather pony adjusting their position, with more of the white stuff falling slowly yet steadily, not unlike rain. Speaking of which, some of the substance was falling on him, seemingly soaking into his wings, mane, and face. The mix of that, the wind, and his thin clothing lead to him feeling colder than he'd ever felt in his life.
He turned around and headed back inside, shutting the door behind him, before heading back over to his blankets and burying himself in them. Soon, a familiar and soothing warmth spread through his body, and he sighed in contentment.
A few minutes later, he heard the door open slowly, and watched as Rumble entered. He was moving slowly, shutting the door behind him and turning to tip-hoof upstairs. He stopped when he noticed Depressi was awake, and relaxed slightly. "Oh, good morning."
"Good Morning", Depressi said.
"I wasn't expecting you to still be here", Rumble commented. "You're usually out on your morning flight by now."
"I would've", Depressi agreed. "But, well..." He flicked his head to the curtain, which was ajar just enough to allow one to see through the window and into the white covered streets.
"Flying when it's snowing is perfectly safe. Well, so long as you don't get too high", Rumble said. "Hay, it's why I'm up-and-about this early. Flitter had to bail, so I was needed to help bring in the early snowfall from Cloudsdale."
"Snow?", Depressi asked.
Rumbles' look turned to confusion, and he said, "Yeah. Don't you have snow where you're from?"
"No. We don't get snow; We get Monsoons", Depressi said, before tapping a paw to his chin. "Well, maybe in the Mountains, but generally no."
"Huh", Rumble said, before his confused look turned to one of mild excitement. "Well then, I suspect that you and DJ will have a fun first snow day."
+++++~+++++
"He really said that?", DJ asked as the two of them made their way down the road to Sweet Apple Acres. Both were wrapped in heavy cloaks and had their faces and paws covered in cotton wraps. The snow fell steadily around them, slowly yet surely covering up the tracks they left behind.
Depressi replied, "Hey, he's used to this. Besides, maybe this 'Fun' includes Stew and a warm fire."
DJ grunted in agreement, before turning his attention to the barn. Outside, like on most days they agreed to meet up, were the rest of their friends. All of them wore additional pieces of clothing; mostly knit caps, scarfs, and earmuffs. Flurry had traded her faux-leather jacket for a faux-fur one, which despite the similar coloring, seemed to make her crystal collar pop out.
"Hey, gu-", Pumpkin said, waving at them. She stopped midsentence when she noticed what they were wearing, then stole a look at the relatively light additions to her other friends. "Why... why are you wearing all that?"
"Cold", DJ replied bluntly.
Pound said, "I mean, yeah, but it's not that bad."
Soundboard said, "Well, I get DJ; his body is that of a Lion. And last I checked, lions don't live in a tundra. But, Depressi, why are you bundled up like a Hearths Warming present?"
"In case you couldn't tell", Depressi said, his voice muffled by the neck gaiter. "I'm a half-breed. Specifically, of a Pony and a Demigryph. So, while I do have a slightly thicker pelt than my brother, it is only marginally."
"Well, ah'm sure y'all 'ill get used to it", Southern said.
DJ's beak chittered, and he said, "I'm inclined to disagree."
"How 'bout this", Southern said. "We'll introduce y'all to some fun things to do in the snow, an' afterward, ah'll treat everypony ta some warm Apple Family cider!"
Pound instantly said, growing progressively louder with each repetition, "Say yes, say yes, say yes!"
"If mother is right, that's good stuff", Depressi whispered to his brother.
DJ shrugged and said, "I suppose it couldn't hurt."
"Ok", Depressi said. "We accept. What did you have in mi-"
He was cut off by a chunk of snow slamming into his chest. It didn't hurt, but at the same time caught him off guard and stumble back. He looked up, spotting Pound Cake picking up another chunk of snow, forming it into a ball with his wings. "This is a very unwise course of action given my skills, my friend", Depressi warned quickly, only for it to be cut off by another snowball. Looking up, he saw that this one had come from Soundboard, while Maraschino slammed a hoofful of snow into Southerns face.
He lost hope when he saw DJ run off, Flurry hot on his tail with a sword made of packed together snow. He shrugged, gathering up two sets of snow in his wings. He took to the air, transferring the snowballs to his paws. "Retribution!", he cried, diving down and aiming for Pound Cake and Soundboard.
+++++~+++++
"You certain this transport is safe?", DJ asked, examining the 'Sled' he had been given. It was a simple iron frame with two, blade-like bases and three iron connectors, covered with several wooden planks.
Flurry Heart said, "Yes, it's safe. I've had this sled for four years." As DJ examined it, he could make out the faint outline of chipped blue paint.
"Because that make me feel better", DJ replied, setting the sled on the ground. "So, how do I do this?"
"You lay on it and grip the sides", Soundboard said. "Then, use your hindlegs to push yourself down the slope, and let gravity do the rest."
DJ sighed, straddling the sides of the sled as he shifted around, attempting to get into a comfortable position. He scootched up a little bit more on it, before sliding back a bit. He eventually seemed to settle in, letting out a sigh. "Ok. Ok. I can do this. Can't be any worse than what that Shitbag put me through. Ok."
And with that, he shoved off. The section of the hill they were on had just enough trees on it to allow them to do this in relative safety, and yet he still shifted side to side, attempting to keep control of it. Snow shot into his covered face, causing him to squint and adjust his head. He glided down the hill faster than he had ever moved in his life, even when he had been taken for a flight when he was younger. Eventually, the slope of the hill began to even out, resulting in a reduction of speed.
Just before he reached the bottom, however, he spotted something jutting out of the snow. He lacked the control to shift out of the way, with the left blade hitting it. This caused the sled to jerk to the side, tumbling over. He didn't even attempt to hold on; he let go and was sent tumbling into the snow. Fortunately, it was thick enough to avoid the landing being too painful, but it was still less than ideal.
As he opened his eyes, he was greeted with the concerned looks of Flurry Heart, Soundboard, and Pound Cake. Flurry asked, "By the Heart, are you ok?"
"Anything bent backward?", he asked.
Soundboard said, "Uh... One, grim. Two, no, you're good."
"Then I'm fine", he said, standing up and brushing the snow off his cloak. "What'd I hit?"
Pound went over to the sled, following the trail it carved in the fresh snow to what DJ had rammed. He picked it up, revealing a large rock. "Here's our culprit. The criminal scum was hiding under the snow and ambushed the poor mister DJ!"
Soundboard snickered, while Flurry just rolled their eyes. DJ cocked his head, asking, "'Criminal Scum?'"
"Yeah", Pound said.
"You read 'Inspector Iustitia?", he asked. "I not know you could get it in Equestria."
"Nah. Maraschino just let me borrow his copy of the crossover with the Power Ponies", Pound explained, tossing the rock aside. "Now, enough about that. It's my turn. Time to see how it's done."
+++++~+++++
In another section of the Orchard, Pumpkin Cake packed up another snowball. This one, instead of keeping it the same size as the previous ones, kept on packing on snow. Soon, the snowball was easily as large as a Hoofball, which she proceeded to pick up in her magic. She moved slowly over towards Southern Rose, the tall mare's back to her. She lifted it up, before asking, "Hey, could you move aside? I got the body."
"Oh, sure", Southern said, doing as her friend asked and moving to the side. Pumpkin put the snow orb on top of a larger base, before moving to another area to get more snow for the Snowpony.
Meanwhile, Maraschino and Depressi were packing snow around the "Arms" of the snowpony, adding to its solidity. Depressi marveled, "It's like clay almost. Not as easy to mold, but sturdy."
"Not as much as you think", Maraschino said, chuckling. "Anything can knock one of these over. Trust me on that."
"Really?", Depressi asked.
"Yeah", Maraschino said. "I was making one when I was young, and I mean young. Like, you could kick me around like a ball. Anyway, I made this really small one, and I was really proud of it. Then, I heard barking, and I saw a puppy run by. Well, I must've made it really poorly, because the dogs wagging tail was enough to knock it over; onto me. Course, that was how I met Southern."
"Y'all were so embarrassed!", Southern interjected, adding her own chuckle to the mix. Maraschino rubbed the back of his head, a faint blush on his tan features.
"Yeah, I was. Anyway, she apologized for Rover's behavior, then helped me make another one", Maraschino said, composing himself.
"Alright, I got the head!", Pumpkin said, returning with an even smaller snow orb. She placed it on top, and all four of them stepped back to admire their work.
It could only be called a pony in the vaguest of terms. It had the general outline of a Terran sitting on their flank, but that was about it. The lumpy ball of snow on top didn't resemble a snout, while the arms were mismatched, blocky, and small. However, given the working materials, it wasn't all that bad.
+++++~+++++
After a bit more time had passed, they had all abandoned their activities and met up at the barn. Southern Rose asked, "So, was ah right, or was ah right?"
"I'll admit, I enjoyed myself", Depressi said, pulling down his covering and flashing a smile.
DJ nodded in agreement, adding, "A lot more than I thought, given circumstances. Now, you mention something called Cider?"
"Oh, yeah!", Pound said, pumping his hoof.
"Calm yerself", Southern said. "Aunt AJ said she'd get some out for us."
"An here y'all are!", Applejack called, carrying a cask marked with a Sweet Apple Acres logo over to them, along with a tray of mugs. She placed the cask on a stack of hay bundles, before setting the mugs down and moving over to the nozzle.
As she did, Southern Rose looked at the label, and her eyes widened. "Aunt AJ. This is the Aged stuff."
"Figured y'all could use a treat", Applejack said, a bit of nervous sweat going down her forehead. Southern Rose fixed her with a quizzical look, resulting in Applejack smiling nervously, her eyes darting back and forth slightly.
Pound Cake didn't seem to catch on, sticking his mug under the nozzle. "Light me up, Miss AJ." Applejack used the opportunity to distract herself, opening the nozzle and letting the caramel-colored liquid fall into the wooden mug. Pound backed up, letting the others fill up their mugs.
DJ looked at the liquid, swirling it in the wooden mug. He asked Depressi, "This doesn't have any alcohol?"
"They have a higher drinking age here", Depressi reminded him. "I don't think any of them can drink legally here. So, no; it should be fine."
DJ looked back at his drink, shrugged, and took a sip. He seemed to warm up a bit, smiling. "It not bad."
"Sweet Apple Acres quality", Applejack said proudly. "Best we got."
Depressi sniffed the drink, before taking his own sip. As he did, he brought the mug away, lightly spitting up what he had in his mouth. All of the others looked at him, most in confusion while Applejack in worry. Depressi sighed, before asking to seemingly no one, "By the Gods, why is everything so damned sweet in this country!?"