“And that’s why it’s of utmost importance to at least try to keep your skin slightly oiled in winter!” Rarity has just finished one of her monologues that I guess the spa employees actually listen to. She said something about skin drying out and cracking (that can happen?!) because the winter snow saps moisture from everything. Aloe nods, totally enraptured in what my good friend has to say.
“What about manes?” I ask as loudly as I can. “I mean, nopony wants dry skin, but can your mane dry out, too?” I know she has a response for this, and I think the employees nod to me. Rarity’s eyes are covered in cucumbers- I really don’t know why she goes all-out on the beauty treatments. She’s really pretty to start with, but insists that her beauty has a cost.
A cost to the tune of about eighty bits per weekly visit. Nopony else I know visits the spa as often as Rarity does, so I’m not sure if she gets a discount for being a repeat customer or not. I sure hope so, because Twilight once said the spa ponies were ‘price gougers’. I thought that was mean. Oh, no! I missed out on Rarity’s hair care advice because of me and my big internal monologue. Somepony once told me I’ve got EADD- equine attention deficit disorder, but I really think I’m just a daydreamer.
“Because, really, who wants that?” Rarity waves a single, perfectly polished hoof in the air. I only notice it because the glitter in the hoofpolish catches the lamp light. I inspect my own hooves; clear polish, nicely rounded and a 45⁰ angle from toe to coronet band. I notice that Rarity’s hooves are closer to 55⁰, meant to smooth out her gaits. Huh, we’ve been doing this spa thing for ages and I’ve never noticed that.
“Well, my very best customers,” I blush as Aloe finishes blow-drying our manes, “the blizzard has finished its course and so have you!” She’s always chipper when we come in after hours, ever the businessmare. “That’ll be two hundred bits, please!” I feel a panic rising in my chest. I didn’t really want to come to the spa tonight- Angel Bunny was furious at me for even suggesting that I had plans that involved staying out after dark, let alone during a blizzard and-
“Oh, a nice discount!” Rarity’s voice is a bit chipper for just having been told that her beautification treatment for the week was twenty bits more than usual, while I’m driving myself into a colic episode over spending 100 bits for a facial and hoof treatment. “Don’t worry, Fluttershy dear. I’ve got this week covered.” She nudges me with her elbow, despite having covered the last oh… thirty weeks. “Just sold a marvelous gown to a Canterlot mare who needed it for a tea party, so it’s my treat.” If she keeps going on about this, I will Stare at her. However, she’s not the Element of Generosity for nothing- she really does have a heart of gold under all the glitz.
“I’ll bathe Opal for free for the next year,” I mumble, ready to repeat myself if needed. I’m really glad I don’t have to speak any louder when Rarity nods. “It’s really no trouble at all- you know I love making Opal look as pretty as a kitty can be!” I almost hoof-face myself for rhyming, but the fumes from the polish are still really strong and that would probably knock me out.
We walk outside, noticing that both the Earth and Pegasus ponies on weather patrol have been extra busy- one group making it snow as much as possible before this year’s Winter Wrap Up, the others muttering inaudible curses as they clean the paths and streets to everypony’s houses and businesses. Before a blizzard hits, you need to file paperwork announcing that you’ll be home and file that with the Earth Pony Weather Patrol Liason (I think Mayor Mare just made that title up for herself) under Form 32B, or there’s no path to your house. Form 32B is why all the little critters hibernate for the winter- it’s a nightmare. Ponies like Applejack and Twilight don’t have to fill the forms out because it’s assumed they’ll be home, as their business doesn’t take them out of town. I, however, need to fill one form out and file it a week in advance because I live out of town.
“Good night, Fluttershy! I do hope you make it home safely, I mean in this weather-“
“I’ll be fine, Rarity, I promise. I think Angel would send out a search party if I got home too late,” I assure her with a grin. After our farewell, I take off at a jog to get back home and out of the cold. What I see is… the bridge. My house.
And no path. The snow is still coming down pretty heavily, and as a poor flier I can’t exactly make it the forty feet to my cottage without falling into the snow every ten feet. I look around- a plow pony! Yay! And he’s coming my way! “Um… sir, if you’re not too busy, can you um…” My heart sinks when he sighs. Coincidentally, so do I. So much for being assertive!
“Sorry, Fluttershy. You filed Form 32B a day late- I can’t plow the path to your cottage without a written letter from Mayor Mare until tomorrow, with all the other late forms.” He looks around, and I know he’s at least trying to help. “Maybe if I get this path done quickly, I can get to yours.” I want my face to look deadpan, but I’ve never been good with deadpan. I’m actually ready to cry, because a ‘quick’ path cleaning is two hours.
“That’s OK. I can wait.” Really, mouth? Why must you betray me?
“I knew you’d understand! See you in a few hours!” A few?! Oh, no. Angel Bunny is staring at me through the window, which means I’m just gonna have to mare up and walk through the snow. My mane is already a bit frozen from snowflakes falling and melting and refreezing, how much worse can it get?
By the time I get to my cottage (walking through the powdery snow was easier than I thought!), I understand why draft ponies shave their fetlocks in winter and why Applejack braids her mane and tail. I totally understand why Big Mac actually keeps his tail short- it looks like I got in a snowball fight with myself and lost. I run to the well-lit fireplace, not only wishing I’d worn boots, but at least had the forethought to put a little oil by the frogs of my hooves to keep the ice from sticking.
“Angel, sweetie, please don’t tug at the ice balls, that hurts Momma!” He crosses his arms, and a little idea pops into his mind. He brings a large chunk of my icemane towards the fire, which seems to work- until it starts boiling the melting ice. I smell… something else melting. I look at the tips of my mane- a good six inches of it is fused together in the worst knot I have ever seen. “EEP! Warm water, then?” Angel hops into the kitchen and comes back with a kettle- and dumps the water into my mane and I suddenly remember one of Rarity’s tips for winter mane care.
“I know it sounds ridiculous,” she’d said. “But honestly, just let the snow melt on its own when you get it caught in your mane and tail. Trying to melt it out is a good way to fry the cuticle, which can’t be fully restored. You get split ends or just plain frizzy- some shampoos will ‘seal’ it all shut in a sort of silicone glue, but that’s not actually fixing the problem, now, is it?” I remember all of this just as Angel is melting the snow in my tail.
…
…
“Oh, buck.”
---
“Fluttershy, darling, come out this instant!” Hoofstomp. Stomp. Stomp. Ponies aren’t very good at knocking when they’re upset, it seems. Oh, no! I’ve upset Rarity- right now I’m torn between ignoring the fact that I’ve upset one of my very best friends because of my mane or upsetting her because I obviously didn’t listen to her mane care harangue. At the moment, I’m considering just chopping it all off to avoid suspicion. I’m that desperate. “I’m coming in!”
“Ohpleasedon’tRarity-“ she does. “Don’tlookatmeI’mnaked!”
“Fluttershy, I can’t even begin to think of how to respond to that statement. Now- OH SWEET CELESTIA, WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?!”
“Eep?”
“Oh, Fluttershy, you can’t possibly be seen in public like this. Did you try melting the snow out of your mane after I said it was a bad idea?”
“Um… yes.” I nod, my fried, frizzy hair sticking out from all angles. My mane in it’s current state is giving me another three feet of height.
“You look horrible.” Her ears are pinned so flat against her skull, you’d think it was her mane that fried out. “Even your pasterns got fried.”
“It would appear so,” I whisper. Celestia, kill me now. I can’t bear this scrutiny.
“I’ll be right back. I need to borrow a few things from the spa.” I nod- a little too much, as my mane has picked up its own momentum. As soon as she zips away, I lie down on the floor and try to hold my mane still- doing so makes a bird fly out.
“Hummingway! You could have died in there!” I nearly shout at the little bird- if I’d known he was in there, I would have feared for his life. A horrible thought crosses my mind.