//------------------------------// // Chapter 4: Snowdrifts and Broken Presents // Story: A Hearth's Warming to Remember // by Locomotion //------------------------------// Apple Bloom set her brush down and stepped back to admire her handiwork. It had been a long and strenuous weekend for her, but at long last, she had finished putting the final touches onto Hornette's model engine. “Perfect!” she congratulated herself. “That just about wraps that up – now all Ah gotta do is wait fo' Hornette ta get here.” She didn't have to wait long. Her patience was quickly rewarded by an eager knock at the front door, and she opened it to find the young changeling standing outside. “Hey, Apple Bloom,” said Hornette brightly. “I've come to pick up that model. How's it coming on?” “All finished, Hornette,” beamed Apple Bloom. “Come on through ta the barn an' see what y'all think of it.” Hornette didn't need to be asked twice. She trotted over to the barn where Apple Bloom had been working, and found the model sitting proudly on her workbench. What had started as a plain old block of wood was now a smart royal blue engine lined in red, with black and golden detailing, red coupling rods, and the letters GER on its tender. “Gosh, Apple Bloom,” remarked Hornette, almost moved to tears. “This looks so...real.” She sidled over and nuzzled the yellow mare gratefully. “Thank you so much.” Apple Bloom chuckled and gave her a friendly hug in return. “Ah, that's okay, Hornette. It's what friends do fo' each other.” “Yeah, and I'm sure lucky to have friends like you around,” put in Hornette sincerely. “I could never have done this engine without your help. If there's anything I can do to repay you...” “Hey, don't sweat it,” Apple Bloom reassured her. “Ah'm just glad Ah could help. Just be sure ta let Loco know of mah part in it,” and she winked broadly. “Oh, I will. Thanks again!” Hornette stowed the model away in her saddlebag and exchanged another quick hug with Apple Bloom before setting off for home. She was so giddy with excitement that she began to dance through the air like a bee, drifting between the trees without a care in the world as she pictured the scene that awaited her – sitting by the Hearth's Warming tree, watching on as Locomotion tore away the wrapping paper, his eyes lighting up in awe at the engine into which she had put so much toil and sweat...and all the hugs and kisses with which she would be rewarded...it made her heart swell just thinking about it. So much so, in fact, that she forgot to look where she was going. Almost without warning, one of the apple trees seemed to jump out at her, and she swerved sharply right with a yelp of alarm. Turning around in mid-air, she breathed a sigh of relief when she saw how narrowly she had missed it – only to let out another, more pained yelp as something slammed into the back of her head! Her earlier giddiness turned to an ominous feeling of nausea, and she fluttered drunkenly down to earth as her world slowly went blank... Not too far away, Silver Spoon was making her way up the path when she was startled by a splintering crash. “What was that?” she wondered, gazing towards the source of the noise. Through the trees, she could just make out a flash of purple drifting towards the ground, so she decided to make a beeline for it. What she discovered made her blood run cold. “OH MY GOSH! HORNETTE!!!” she cried, galloping over to the unconscious changeling. She was lying face-down in the snow, the outer fabric of her hood scuffed and soiled with algae from the tree bough she had crashed into. The offending branch lay just a few hooves away, broken off its tree by the impact. Silver Spoon began shaking Hornette vigorously, trying to bring her round. “Hornette, what happened? Are you okay?” There was no response. “Answer me, Hornette! Are you okay?!” shouted Silver Spoon desperately; but still to no avail. Hornette just lay silent and still where she was. Almost on the verge of panic, Silver Spoon began looking around frantically for anyone who could help her. Fortunately, Scootaloo happened to be passing by overhead, so the grey mare called up to her at the top of her voice, “SCOOTALOO, HELP!!!” “Silver Spoon? What's up?” Scootaloo glided down to land next to her, only to spot the cause of the emergency lying right in front of them. “Whoa!” she exclaimed loudly. “How did this happen?” “I...I don't know,” faltered Silver Spoon. “I just heard a crash, and next thing I knew, there was Hornette falling out of the air.” “Right, stay here and don't let her get cold!” ordered Scootaloo tersely. “I'll go get Applejack and Apple Bloom to bring a cart and some first-aid kit!” Without waiting for Silver Spoon to reply, she took off again for the farmhouse. Without further ado, Silver Spoon draped her coat over Hornette and slipped her scarf under her face, doing what she could to protect the unfortunate changeling from frostbite. “It's alright, Hornette,” she whispered, partly trying to soothe her own frayed nerves. “You're gonna be okay now. Just hold on.” Heaven knows how Loco would take it if you didn't... Further east, and completely unaware of what was happening with Hornette, Locomotion was having problems of his own. The blizzard was already raging by the time they reached the Buckskin Mountains, and only seemed to grow worse the further they went. Endless flurries swirled all around them, buffeting their engine and completely blotting out their view of the line ahead. “Cor, blimey!!” exclaimed Locomotion over the roar of the exhaust. “It's worse than the Frozen North out there!” “You're telling me!” remarked John, who was now starting to regret his earlier bravado. “I can't even make out the signals this snow's so thick! I'll be glad to get out of it, I tell you!” “If ever we do.” “Well, let's hope we do, if only for the passengers' sake!” called John anxiously. Locomotion nodded in reply, but he still had his doubts. Even with a nice, warm, fully enclosed cab, the wind was so icy that it stung his face if he so much as opened the window a crack. “I wish I could see!” he growled with anguish. For mile after mile, “Element of Loyalty” lived up to her name and battled valiantly through the onslaught, determined not to be beaten by the snow. But there was worse to come – they had not long passed a lonely signalbox, and were halfway up another gradient when they heard a deep rumbling sound. Suddenly, there was a violent jolt, and both stallions were were knocked clean off their hooves as the train ground to a standstill. Wincing in pain and surprise, Locomotion carefully picked himself up and began nursing the bruises on his chest and left shoulder. He was more shaken and winded than hurt, but all was silent and still except for the howling of the wind and the hissing of steam. “John,” he gasped, “are you okay?” “Yeah...I'm okay.” John lay sprawled out next to him, clutching his neck in discomfort. “What happened?” he asked in a daze. Locomotion stood up and leaned out of the window on his side of the cab, trying not to put too much weight on his injured shoulder. The wind and snow seemed a lot less vicious now they had stopped, but what he saw came as a shock. “Aw, D-rat!” he groaned with frustration. “This would have to happen now – our engine's wheel deep in snow!” “Huh?!” John scrambled to his hooves. Sure enough, as he looked out of the cab, he could see that an avalanche from the hillside had completely blocked the line, and their engine had rammed straight into the resulting drift. “Damn it!” he cursed crossly. “We'll never make Ponyville on time now! I'd better see if I can reverse her out of this mound and get us back to Delamare.” “Good luck with that,” muttered Locomotion doubtfully. “Hundred bits says we won't succeed.” John shut off steam, wound the reverser hard over, and gingerly opened the regulator; but “Element of Loyalty” wouldn't move. She just sat where she was, blowing off steam as if in despair. “Come on, baby!” coaxed John under his breath, pulling the lever still further. “Please!” But no matter he did, he couldn't move the train forwards or backwards. Even when he turned on full steam, the most he could do was make “Element of Loyalty's” wheels slip fiercely. “It's no good,” said Locomotion at last, shaking his head. “We're stuck fast.” “Great!” growled John. “Now what do we do?! We can't go any further forward, we can't back out, and we certainly can't reach the signalbox on hoof in this blizzard!” “We'll just have to sit it out until a snowplough team can reach us,” decided Locomotion grimly. “You'd better go back to the coaches and tell the guard what's happened. I'll stay here and reroute all our steam to the heating pipes.” John hesitated. “It won't hold out forever, you know that, right?” “Then I'll have to damp the fire down, keep the pressure just high enough to keep the injectors running. That should buy us some time.” “Yeah, but with the automatic stoker disabled...?” Locomotion shook his head again, this time incredulously, as he opened the tender cupboard and pulled out a shovel. “You think an engine would just up and leave this behind, even with a mechanical stoker?” “Nah...I guess it wouldn't.” John disappeared into the tender corridor, trying to save face after his faux-pas, while Locomotion began reducing the fire; knowing deep down that their coal and food supplies might not last long enough to see them through. “...How's she doing, Apple Bloom?” “Still out cold, Ah'm afraid.” “I don't like how she's gonna feel about...” “Wait a second, girls, I think she's waking up!” Hornette's eyes flickered, and she let out a low groan. She could feel something warm and soft draped over her, but it clearly wasn't her coat; nor was the air so chilly as it should have been. Indeed, she couldn't even remember falling asleep in the first place. As her vision cleared, she realised that she was in fact indoors, lying in Apple Bloom's bed while the yellow mare anxiously hovered over her. She was flanked by Scootaloo and Silver Spoon on one side, and Firelli and Surfie on the other. “Hey, Hornette,” said Surfie kindly. “How are you feeling?” Hornette opened her mouth to confirm she was alright, but her stomach churned a little, and she had to rethink what she was going to say. “Sick,” she replied queasily. “Ah ain't surprised,” murmured Apple Bloom sympathetically. “Wha...what do you mean?” “What's mah name, Hornette?” “I...Apple Bloom, of course.” Hornette cocked her head in confusion. “How many hooves am Ah holdin' up?” “Uh...” Hornette paused for a moment, trying to steady her wobbly vision. “...two.” “An' what's this in mah right hoof?” “A...an apple?” To her further bewilderment, Apple Bloom breathed a sigh of relief and gazed at Firelli. “She's okay.” “Wait, I don't understand,” interrupted Hornette. “What's with all these obvious questions?” Firelli smiled ruefully. “We were just checking to see if you had concussion,” she explained. “Silver Spoon found you unconscious in the middle of the orchard. It seems you knocked yourself out flying into one of the trees.” So that's what happened... “Yeah, I...it's coming back to me now. I was flying home with Loco's present, all cheery and full of beans...next thing I knew, I was about to crash into that tree head-on. I managed to dodge it, but then something slugged me from behind, and...that's all I can remember.” Hornette raised a hoof to her head, and only then did she notice the bandage around it. “You're lucky Silver and I happened to be passing by,” put in Scootaloo. “We were scared you might catch hypothermia out there – and that's saying nothing of the knock you took to your head. I thought we'd need to take you to hospital until Elli had a look at you.” “Wait...what about Loco's present?” asked Hornette anxiously. “I had it with me in a saddlebag when I left; where's it gone?” Almost at once, the atmosphere among the five mares around her went from a gentle bedside manner to deep sorrow and regret. It was Silver Spoon who broke the awkward silence; “Um...maybe you ought to lie down a little longer,” she began nervously. “You know...'cause you're still not 100 percent...” “But Silver Spoon,” protested Hornette, “I can't possibly rest without knowing what's happened to that model!” “Well...it's kinda complicated. We did bring the model back with us, but...well, let's say the important thing is that yo' okay...” “What happened?!” begged Hornette, now completely unnerved. With a sad frown, Surfie levitated the torn saddlebag onto the bed. “This might come as a shock,” she explained, “but we found it right underneath you, and...it...to cut a long story short...” She said no more, but lifted the flap to reveal the splintered remains. Hornette's heart sank. “Loco's present – ruined!” she gasped, her eyes glistening with tears. Her once elegant labour of love, this smart little engine she had poured her heart and soul into, now looked a very sorry sight indeed, broken in two by the fall. Its funnel had snapped off, its cab caved in, and its boiler was riddled with scratches. She couldn't believe that all her hard work had so quickly gone to waste... “We're really sorry, Hornette,” whispered Firelli. “No...it's my fault,” stammered Hornette. “It's all my fault.” “No, Hornette, it was just an accident,” objected Silver Spoon. “These things happen to the best of us.” “They wouldn't have done if I'd been more careful,” sobbed Hornette bitterly, and buried her face in her hooves as she began to cry in earnest. “Now Loco's present is smashed, and...and I've nothing left to give him.” All the other mares gathered closer, trying to calm her down; but Apple Bloom held back, gazing down at the broken model. Although Hornette had put a lot more effort into it than she had, the farm mare had still felt just as disheartened to see what had become of their work. Her sorrow grew the more she looked at it; but so too did a burning sense of injustice, until it became the voice of determination. “Not if Ah can help it!” she muttered resolutely. Steamer looked up at the clock for what felt like the umpteenth time. He had had a busy but enjoyable day at work, only to return home and find that neither Hornette nor Locomotion were anywhere to be seen, and there wasn't even a note to say where they had gone. He wasn't quite so worried about his nephew; he reckoned he might have been held up by last-minute passengers or parcels, but Hornette should have been back hours ago. It was almost midnight now, and he was starting to wonder if he should ask the police to search for her. A knock at the front door prompted him to stow that thought away for the time being, and he trotted down the hallway to see who it was. Upon opening up, the first thing he saw was Surfie standing outside; and right behind her, much to his relief... “There you are, Hornette!” exclaimed Steamer. “Where have you been? I've been worried sick about you!” “Out.” Hornette's reply was flat and despondent. Steamer stepped back in dismay as the young changeling trudged inside. Hornette had been nothing but cheerful over the past fortnight, and to see her so gloomy and lethargic all of a sudden completely threw him for a loop. “Hornette,” he ventured softly, “what's wrong?” “I don't want to talk about it, okay?” faltered Hornette with a small crack in her voice. “Please, just leave me be.” “Come on, Hornette, talk to me,” pleaded Steamer. “I'm only trying to help you. Please tell me what's the matter?” Hornette only shook her head, hung up her coat and said, “I'm going to bed,” before plodding upstairs. Only then did Steamer notice the bandage on her head; and when he looked back at her coat, he noticed that the back of the hood had been severely tarnished. He stood rooted in place, mouth half-open in shock. Surfie stepped up next to him. “I guess I'd better explain, Uncle Steamer,” she said gravely, and told him what had happened. While uncle and niece talked, Hornette slunk miserably into her room, not bothering to turn on the light as she slipped the duvet to one side and flopped down onto her bed. She felt deeply ashamed of herself, and wondered what Locomotion would say when he woke up on Hearth's Warming and found she didn't have a present for him; even though a small part of her knew that she was overthinking it all, and that he could never think so ill of her just for one silly little mishap. But it wasn't just a little mishap, the rest of her thought bitterly – it was a huge one, nay, a disaster… She looked up again, almost wishing for somepony to come and comfort her. That was when she remembered the first gift that anypony had ever given her – Prairie, her precious changeling doll, sat in the front right corner of the bed, smiling warmly upon her owner. Hornette scooped her up and hugged her tightly. “Oh, Prairie,” she wept, “how am I gonna tell Loco about this? My first present to him...and now it's gone.” She frowned looked down at the mattress. “I don't deserve him...I really don't.” Although she didn't get a reply from Prairie, the plushy texture of her hide managed to soothe her pain and sadness slightly. If indeed the doll could speak, Hornette knew she would probably be telling her not to put herself down anyway, that Locomotion would understand. Still dizzy from her accident, she settled her head down and cried herself to sleep. Not long afterwards, a lone figure stepped over to her bed, pulled the duvet over her, and quietly tucked her in before giving her a sympathetic nuzzle. “Goodnight, Hornette,” whispered Steamer solemnly. “Hope you feel better in the morning.” He slipped out of the room and gently closed the door, leaving the young changeling in peace.