“When I was younger, the world was bright, and full of imaginary scenarios that felt real to me. That’s the worst part of growing up, leaving that behind. So while I age physically, I don’t think I’ll ever grow up mentally. I don’t want to lose what little magic I have left.”
There was a bright explosion of light, and Pound Cake blinked a few times. The large hole in the house that was covered in a hard material to keep him from escaping into the wider world.
The prison that held him every night was no match for his wingpower. Buzzing up, Pound Cake looked down to see his sister still slumbering. Bah, she could wait. She was mostly boring, anyway.
The rambunctious colt flew up to the window, where he observed a hoof painted sky change colors as Celestia caused the sun to rise. Birds, or rather, large winged monsters from some of the ponytales that his parents and Pinkie Pie would read him, flew to and fro. Pound Cake envied them. How they could be free.
“But you can come with us, you know.” The little pegasus almost fell off the windowsill in shock as one of the purple and black feathered beasts landed outside the window, and unlatched it for him.
The windowsill broke into a cliff, and the drop below would plunge him deep into a ravine, where return was not possible. However, he knew he must brave it. The little foal psyched himself, and lept from the ledge.
The plunge was fast, but he stretched out his wings and began to pump them at full speed, bringing Pound Cake up in a sharp arc. His momentum carried him into a nearby tree, where a colony of strange yellow beings greeted him. The crawled about him, their irritated buzzing making it clear that they did not want him to invade their homeland. Pound Cake saluted, as he had seen Rainbow Dash do before, and dropped from the tree, once again pulling out of the fall at the last moment before being dashed across the treacherous rocks below.
A large breeze carried the curious colt off towards a large tree with a house built into it. Everypony was still sleeping, as it was a Sunday, but an odd looking scaly creature that Pound Cake had encountered only a few time before seemed to be staring off into the sunrise from a platform on the tree. The pegasus flew over to get a better look at the purple and green curiosity. He believed that such beings were called “Spikes.”
The Spike was still staring into the sunrise, as though trying to locate something. Pound Cake buzzed up beside him, looking off to where the Spike was looking. There was nothing significant at all about-
Wait. Yes, there was. The clouds... there was something beyond the clouds. He could almost see it, but he would need to get closer. What was it? It wasn’t the sun, it wasn’t the stars which shone like billions of tiny lighthouses at night, no... it was like there was another world, just sitting on the tops of the clouds... But he would have to get closer to see it.
Beginning his ascent up towards the clouds, he heard a surprised noise, like a cross between a grunt and a squeal of fear.
“What are you doing here?” The voice cut through the silence like a knife did through a piece of freshly cut cake. Pound Cake was able to make this simile as he had seen his parents cut cake, among other pastries, multiple times, and the voice of the Spike seemed to do just that to the previous aura of silence.
Cold claws grabbed his back hooves, and Pound Cake strained harder to try and fly up to the clouds. He needed to get to the clouds, he absolutely needed to find out what was up there...
“Geez, for a little colt, you sure are strong. Nearly took me up with you!” the Spike pulled Pound Cake down. The baby pegasi’s wings were tired. Talented as he was in both flight and imagination, neither of those two could stop the inevitability of his exhaustion. Glowering up at the Spike in disdain, he tried to find away to escape from the multi-colored reptile’s grasp. The Spike held firm against him, and carried him into the tree.
Inside, it opened up into a house. It was a bedroom, like the one Pound Cake was supposed to be occupying at the moment, but the shelves were filled with books instead of toys, and the bed was akin to the one his parents slept in.
Slumbering peacefully inside the bed was a purple mare. Upon her head was a horn, just like his sister’s. He had seen this pony before, but could not remember the name that was given to her. The Spike gently shook the mare awake.
“Twilight... wake up, Twilight...”
Ah, so this was a “Twilight” then.
The “Twilight” turned over in her sleep, and grumbled something about the moon, that large orb that hung in the night sky, lazily drifting across it though the night per Princess Luna’s will. The Spike shook the unconscious unicorn once more, and this time she lazily blinked herself awake.
“Spike, what is- why do you have one of the Cake’s children?” the mare looked confused, as well as shocked and sleepy, all at the same time. Pound Cake couldn’t help but giggle. The expression was very amusing.
“Well,” the Spike began to tell her “I was out on the balcony when-”
“Spike, I thought you were over this. I didn’t know you were still abducting foals to use in an army to overtake Equestria!”
The Spike was very confused by this. “What? That never happened!”
The Twilight shook her head, and yawned sleepily. “Sorry, I’m not fully awake yet... still, why do you have one of the Cake’s children?”
The Spike explained as to why he was currently in possession of the Cake’s colt. After the overview of what had happened, the mare deduced it would be best to return the colt to its creators, that is, his parents. After a brief walk to Sugarcube Corner, the Cakes were relieved to see their foal to be ok.
“Thank goodness you found him! When he wasn’t in his crib, we... panicked!” the reassuring voice of his mother thanked the Twilight and Spike. Pound Cake was hoofed over to his two parents, and he was put back in his room, where Pumpkin Cake was chewing on the edge of a building block.
Pound Cake wanted to convey what had happened to him to his sister, but not knowing the art of speech hindered this process. It was torture, being able to understand most of what adult ponies, or really anypony who could talk, said and yet unable to articulate those words to tell back at them.
So, Pound Cake headed over to the wall of toys and other things that Pinkie Pie, their pink playmate, had been sure they were well stocked on, and pulled up a piece of paper. He then headed over to the paints (foal safe, of course), and opened them with his mouth, dipping his hooves, and tail into, and spread it all about the paper.
In the end, due to his relatively poor motor skills, the painting was far from a masterpiece. But the pigment tainted paper held a feeling of... emotion. The left side was blue, mixed with a black, that faded over to purple and orange, which gave way to the bright yellow of the sun. The colors blended together, making it seem messy at points, but a good messy. A beautiful messy.
Still, it was a foal’s painting... it left much to be desired, and in no way was perfect. Still, an emotion could be felt behind it. Pound Cake brought his sister over to show her the painting. She stared at it for a few moments, as if in awe. Then, she giggled, and topped the orange paint all over the work of art. Pound Cake stared in dismay at his ruined art. His sister was obviously not one for the finer things in life.