//------------------------------//
// Chapter 38 
// Story: Fine Print 
// by Starscribe 
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Maybe Tracy shouldn't have been surprised to see that Rose was already awake when he walked in, smelling of floral shampoo and laying out her breakfast. From the look of everything on the counter, it was going to be quite involved.

She jumped as he stepped inside, eyes widening in shock. "Y-you were..." She pointed with one hoof, then glanced back at the still-shut door to the human side. “You weren't asleep?"

"Adjusting is hard," he said, kicking the door shut behind him. He'd only been outside for a few hours, but even a few minutes of flight hit him with a powerful wave of exhaustion. Now that the immediate danger was over and he wasn't going to fall to his death, the adrenaline was fading rapidly. 

He stretched both wings, yawning and shaking himself out. At least now he could guess why the local bats acted the way they did. Sable was right about one thing, being up now was unnatural. Oh buck, I have plans all day. We're going on a date, then my flying lesson...

Would his wings still be burning by then?

While he'd been standing in a daze, he hadn't noticed Rose approaching. She sniffed at him once, then snatched up one of his legs. Shorter though she was, her strength was irresistible. Like pressing up against steel rebar. "What the buck happened to you, Tracy? Not copying your friends and wandering out into the wilderness on your own..."

"No." He wouldn't have let anyone else do it, but for Rose he just stood still and let her examine him. "I just planned on walking through Ponyville. That flying book was so boring, you can't even imagine. A few bats noticed me, and found out I couldn't fly, and..." He shook his head. "Well, I still don't think I can fly. But it could've gone worse."

Rose's expression became unreadable. She sniffed again, eyes narrowing. "Some bats, huh? You went off with a mare, alone, in the middle of the night?"

Uh oh. Tracy only had a few seconds to head this off. But where the animals of this world might have strange and immeasurable differences, jealousy was at least something he sort of understood.

"It was a whole family—older stallion and two adult children. I think the mare was probably interested in me, but she was disappointed. I told her I was already seeing someone."

Rose watched him for another second, looking at his other leg. After a few more seconds she let go, turning away from him. "Well, smell's right. We should put something on those legs. Doesn’t look serious, but you don't want an infection."

"Yeah. I was gonna spray them with liquid bandage, but... I don't actually know what that would do when I came back across. What do ponies do for medicine?"

Alcohol, as it turned out. It burned as Rose sponged out the shallow cuts with a damp cloth soaked in the stuff, but she refused to hear of anything other than treating him right away. If anything, she seemed to take special satisfaction in his pained gasps.

"This is why you take reputable flight classes at a Canterlot school, instead of running off with strange mares under the moonlight," she said, as soon as they'd finished cleaning out his wounds. She applied a goopy brown substance over both legs, which hardened almost to dried mud in a few seconds. At least it stopped burning.

"A licensed school has to follow safety standards. It won't let novice flyers hurt themselves."

"I realize that now." It's a small miracle I didn't fall into the river. He yawned again, with the same whole-body stretch that had come naturally last time. "I should've just stuck with her advice. A lesson was a mistake." 

Rose turned, whipping him with her tail. Not terribly hard, though the smell of her shampoo was almost overpowering for a second. A reminder, maybe, or a mark. Just how like animals are we, anyway? Do humans have this many strange behaviors?

"You finish cleaning up," Rose said, hurrying back into the kitchen. "I'll finish breakfast. Don't peel that poultice off, it'll break off when it's done."

"Right." He glanced into the kitchen, then winced again. This probably wasn't the right time to get picky with his food, but throwing up at the table wouldn't help either. "If you do omelets, no cheese in mine this time. Just veggies."

He didn't stay to see her face, just hurried up the stairs and back to his room. I can't ruin this before it even starts. They were dating, now. It was time to make that official, instead of wondering if Rose was hiding from him. If she regretted saying yes, she could've used finding me as her excuse. She didn't. That felt like it should be a good sign.

There was one thing for sure: Tracy wasn't taking any chances. Either he'd make this work, or he'd fail spectacularly, and leave without regrets that he hadn't committed.

So he marched right into his room, removed the cloth and books concealing the Everwake, and carefully drew out a single vial. The cork was small enough that he had to use his teeth to pry it off. Then he tilted the whole thing back, and drank in a single sip. It tasted like nothing he'd ever experienced, bending around his tongue like mineral oil, but sparking and hissing as it went down like the sourest of sour candy. 

The world seemed to slow around him, as though he'd been submerged in honey. The clopping of hooves outside slowed to a crawl, voices pitched downward, and the crackling from the stove faded to a few seconds of occasional clicks and hisses. He alone was able to move, staring out at a strange, half-frozen world.

He burped loudly, expelling a cloud of faint gold sparks. They faded after a second, and the slow sensation passed right along with his tiredness. Tracy's vision returned to sharp focus. Suddenly the day's assignments all came rushing back to him—his flying lesson that night, getting lunch in Canterlot with Rose. His last few hours were only a dream by comparison.

Tracy rinsed off quickly, a task made easier by his choice not to wear anything during his walk. He corrected that decision, picking what he guessed would've translated to a semi-formal set of slacks and shirt. The kind of thing he expected would be worn to a casual date. He decided against cologne, if only because he wasn't sure what it would do to a horse's sense of smell.

By the time he made his way back downstairs, he looked and felt like a new pony. Only the persistent soreness between his wings and the bit of slime still clinging to his legs was any reminder of his evening trip.

"When are we going to Canterlot?" he asked, as soon as they'd finished breakfast. He couldn't risk Rose slipping out again, as she might want to. But she hadn't gone off to the stand while he was in the shower, so that was something.

"Two. I have to help with the stand until then. Sisters are covering at night, but that means I have to do some time in the afternoon." 

He nodded, and nearly asked about what had been bothering him. But no, this probably wasn't his best chance to get a straight answer. He could wait a little longer. "Guess I'll be here. See how much more of this I can get through before class tonight."

"Now you had a head start," she said flatly. "Maybe that crash will prepare you for the real thing."

Maybe it already had. Tracy had been terrified of Giselle's threats of shoving him off a cliff. But the closer it came, the more he found himself rehearsing his conversation with Rose. What was falling off a cliff compared to screwing up a relationship before it even started?

The next few hours passed in a blur. He cleaned up after breakfast so Rose could head to work, then skimmed the book as rapidly as he could. Despite his disdain for the forgettable writing, much of the illustrations were familiar to him now. The basic stances and positions Sable had explained were in here, with pages and pages of explanation and the purpose of each one.

Now that it was more than vague theory, Tracy could actually understand the exercise routine it suggested. Maybe if he asked nicely they'd let him keep the book for a few more weeks. He could scan a few of the most helpful pages.

As the hour of their train approached, Tracy found himself glancing back at the clock more and more. Would Rose need time to get ready? How much time did a pony take for something like this?

He couldn't keep waiting forever, though. Eventually departure was so close that Tracy could only tuck the book away and hurry off to the train station.

Am I seriously going to get ghosted in another universe? At least he would have a story to share with his friends, the ones who weren't in Equestria themselves.

But no—Rose was there waiting for him, pacing a nervous circle into the ground right in front of the station. "Cutting it a little close, aren't you?"

You could've told me we were meeting here. The words caught in his throat, and for a few seconds he just stared, slack-jawed. 

Rose hadn't just been at work. Her mane was styled in a dozen complex layers of red, each one a different shade. Her tail was braided with bits of semi-precious stones, complex enough to draw the eye and much wider and shorter than usual. 

She wore nothing more than she had during their previous trips, which meant a light satchel for bits and whatever else it was that mares carried when they went outside.

His words turned into an imperceptible mumble. He looked away, closing both his wings. I totally meant to do that. 






Had there ever been a time when he hadn't noticed how pretty Rose was? Granted, not wearing anything did give an advantage. Careful staring, Tracy. She can do it too. 

He followed her aboard the Canterlot Express, now determined to look anywhere except the mare in front of him. They took their usual seats in the back, and soon enough they were on their way.

"So, uh... you look good," he stammered, recollecting his confidence as best he could. It wasn't easy. "You don't normally..."

She flipped a few stray strands of mane from her face, grinning at him. "No, I don't. I spend three days a week foraging for flowers and rare seeds. Something like this wouldn't last an hour in the Everfree."

He nodded awkwardly, wondering what all those sparkles and semi-precious stones would look like if they crossed to his side. After she put something on, obviously. 

"Really? We should... do that together sometime." He watched her closely, looking for any sign he'd said something he shouldn't. "I don't mind camping. Spent my whole childhood out in nature. Mostly it was cactus and sagebrush, but... I'm sure Equestria is just as interesting. Honestly, I like the green on your side better.” And the red.

"I've never met a bat who cared much about it," she said. "Spelunking, sure. But you've got the tools for it. Only one of us can see their way around in the dark. And, you know, fly."

"Neither of us can..." He'd almost said “either”, but he stopped himself. There was nothing more than the moon out last night, and he'd been able to see just fine. Better than fine, really. "Fly," he finished lamely. "But honestly caves sound unsafe. We have caves at home too, but most of them are mines. I grew up hearing horror stories about all the tourists and stupid teenagers who wandered in and never came out again. Camping sounds more fun."

"I've been looking for an excuse to go out to the Peaks of Peril," she said, her tone getting more excited with each word. "They're supposed to still have foal's-breath flowers up there. My sisters won't go—too afraid of Kirin. But you're not afraid, are you?"

"Nope," he answered, grinning stupidly back. "I don't even know what that is." Then he stopped, finally seeming to recognize the name. “Hold on, what did you say they were called?”