Far above, the sun shines so calmly down, casting its warming Spring light upon a small town, perhaps closer to a village. Ponies of all three races move about in their various manners. Some buy, some sell, some create, and some farm.
About two minutes trot from town sit the farmlands, acres of land belonging to a variety of different ponies sat right next to each other. The barest hints of growing vegetables, fruits, and grains can be seen coming through the ground, the soil’s reward for the work upon it.
Within one of these many fields is a rather unassuming mare. A unicorn, with a blue coat made a darker shade by dirt and sweat, and a light purple mane gone through much the same as her coat. She moves about, low down to the ground, magic picking any weeds she sees so that her crops may grow strong.
She stands up straight from her soil, rolling her neck about in order to get out any crinks. As she does, she hears a voice from behind her, “Howdy, Miss Cloudy.”
She turns around, seeing a stallion stood behind her. Her western neighbor, and a unicorn much like herself, with a light purple coat and slight red mane. She shakes her head, “You’re standing on my potatoes, Night.”
He looks at his hooves, and quickly steps to the side, “So it’d seem I am. Sorry.”
She rolls her eyes, “Now you’re standing on my wheat.”
He looks down again, and once more steps away, “Oh, I’m terribly sorry, Miss Cloudy, if there’s any damage at all I can-“
She grins and interrupts him, chuckling slightly, “What do you want, Night?”
He pauses, taking a second before smiling, “Well, I thought you might want some help. It’s a big farm, after all.”
She smiles back, “I’ll be fine, Night.”
He nods, “Well, you might be fine, but I’d be bored. Winter killed all my wheat, and now I just gotta wait for them to sprout now I’ve planted more. So might as well be a kind neighbor and help you.”
She raises an eyebrow, “So it’s just out of boredom?”
He shakes his head, “Oh no, Miss Cloudy, that’s just part. Work is always fun with another, ain’t it? So I see no reason not to help you. It’s a big farm, and you’re just one mare.”
Cloudy grins, “Oh, and what’s a mare gotta do with it, Night?”
He pauses, “What’s a... oh! Oh no, that’s not what-“
She chuckles, and floats a rake over to him, interrupting him, “You’re so wound up you’re like a foals toy. Take the rake and go on over ‘round that tree, but don’t kill any of my flowers.”
He takes the rake in his own magic, and smiles, “Will do, Miss Cloudy.”
She turns back around, setting back to the weeding while Night moves to rake around the trees. The two of them work, sharing little conversations and stories as the sun slowly begins to set.
As the sky begins to turn orange, Cloudy stands from her plants, stretching her legs. Night walks over, and she nods to him, “Well, thanks to you, I should be able to sell all my excess winter food in town tomorrow.”
He smiles, “Well, ain’t that lucky? You know, this is a lucky year, 500’s my lucky number, after all.”
She shakes her head, and smiles, “So how much you want, Night?”
He shakes his head, “Oh, I ain’t taking any bits or anything like that. I helped because I could help, not out of any need for reward.”
She nods, “Well, maybe you didn’t need any reward, but you’re getting one. How much you want?”
He smiles, “No, no, I think you misunderstood, Miss Cloudy. I don’t need any reward like that, since my reward was just spending an afternoon with you.”
She smiles, “Oh, ha-ha. Fine, you don’t want anything, you don’t have to take anything.”
He nods, “Now, pardon my asking, but are you doing anything tonight, Miss Cloudy?”
She nods, “Yeah, I’m gonna go get some herbs from the forest and make a stew. Then I’m going to get some rest so I can head into town tomorrow.”
He smiles, “Ah, do perhaps want some help at your stall tomorrow?”
She grins, “What, and let you scare all the customers away?”
He grins back, “Only the thugs, Miss Cloudy, only the thugs.”
She smiles, and shakes her head, “Thanks for the offer, but I’m setting off early in the morning and wouldn’t want you waking up early on my part.”
He nods again, “Suppose that’s fair enough reasoning. Have yourself a good night, Miss Cloudy, and a good stew.”
She nods back, “And you have a good night, too. Hope it isn’t too cold.”
He smiles, “Cold? I’ve a heart of fire, Miss Cloudy, you ain’t gotta worry about me getting cold.”
She nods and grins, “Suppose that’s what you said when you were shivering up a storm on the Solstice?”
He pauses, and grins, “Fair enough, Miss Cloudy, fair enough. See you later.” He turns, and trots back west, to his own farm.
Cloudy smiles, and begins to trot to her own house, lightly shaking her head as she does so. As she trots, the sun sets further, the sky darkening into purple hues.
She eventually comes upon her house, a rather simple building. Medium sized, perfect for between one and four ponies, with two stories. Made of wood with a thatched roof, and not painted, the house almost blends into the farmland with its simplistic, naturalistic nature.
She trots up to and through the door, shutting it behind her, and heading through a lightly furnished living room to her kitchen. A fire already is ready nearby a window, pointed north to face the forest, with a large pot on top of it. Already, a brown stew is simmering on top of the fire, filling the air with its savory scent.
She moves over to the stew, stirring it about a bit with a spoon, and tasting it. She smiles, looking at the darkening sky, “Getting late... probably don’t even need any herbs for this.”
As she looks upwards, though, something catches her eye. A star, though it seems to be moving, and getting slowly brighter. Not to mention the fact that it is, in fact, green. She tilts her head, watching the odd little thing as it grows brighter and closer, until it begins to cast a green light through her window.
She averts her eyes for a second, but looks back in curiosity. She watches more in fascination, as the rather small star streaks down, crashing into the northern forest. Her house shakes, as does her stew and herself, but the shaking all stops within a minute.
She blinks, looking at the forest for a second, before nodding, “Suppose that’s a sign.” She sets the stew back on the center of the fire, and moves back to the front of her house, where rests a saddlebag, a water skin, and an axe. She levitates all three over, affixing them to her back before opening the door, and heading to the forest.