Angel wouldn’t let Fluttershy leave without him. As she got herself ready to go, he waited patiently on his back in one of her saddlebags, his paws crossed. When she opened the bag and found him, he stared up at her with his most concentrated frown.
“I’ll be okay,” she told him, and her smile was almost believable.
But he was going to see this through to the end. And if he had to be in her bag, where he could easily push up against her chest and monitor her heartbeat, then that was just fine with him. It was a nice little place to ride shotgun—the sun poked little rays through the top flap into the bed he’d fashioned out of napkins. An intermittent breeze filtered in while Fluttershy flew to the zoo, brushing Angel’s whiskers and reminding him to stay awake, alert, ready.
Their arrival was obvious. The subtle shift in weight as Fluttershy landed. The noise of ponies nearby, many of whom were children. And, of course, the sudden jostling of the bag as Fluttershy was assaulted with a hug.
“I’m so glad you’re feeling better!” Twilight’s voice sounded just a little too loud, even from inside the bag.
“It wasn’t so bad,” Fluttershy claimed. “I’m sorry I ran away like that. It was rude.”
“Not at all. You really had me worried there!” Twilight gave a quick snort, followed by a nervous laugh, as she let go. Angel snickered in approval. What a dork. There was no way Fluttershy could resist.
But then, could she? Her heartbeat hadn’t changed at all since they left the cottage—no uptick when she saw her date, or even when they came in contact. Surely it should have at least spiked for a few seconds. She was calmer now, sure, but this was extreme.
“Shall we go in?” Twilight suggested. “I’ve already bought us tickets! Actually, that’s a lie… They were free. Perks of being a princess, I guess.”
There! A spike! It was unquestionable. It seemed Fluttershy’s heart was simply a sucker for jokes. But then why didn’t she laugh?
“Actually, um… Do you mind if we just… sit over there a second? I have to ask you something first.”
Angel almost leapt out of the bag. He wanted to grab Fluttershy by the ears and take control. Steer her to the gates. Somehow take over her voice and get her to say, On second thought, forget I said any of that, let’s go have honest, innocent, ignorant fun.
“Erm,” Twilight stuttered. Unsurprisingly. “Sure… I suppose. What’s on your mind?”
The saunter towards some far off bench felt like walking towards the edge of a cliff for Angel, yet he couldn’t control it. He flattened his ears against his face. His teeth chattered.
Fluttershy placed her bags on the grass before she sat down. Angel felt the sudden stillness of the earth instead of a heartbeat. He peeked out to see Twilight and Fluttershy, sitting on opposite sides of a bench, eyes staring forward at nothing. Behind them, a stubborn maple tree shed the last of its leaves. But, he saw, there was a bunch of them still left just above the bench. He waited until he was sure he wasn’t being watched, or rather, until he realized he didn’t altogether care who saw him, before shooting out of the bag in a flash of white and scurrying up the tree like a squirrel. When he got to the bunch of leaves, he skidded to a halt and grabbed his tail.
“Hoo,” Owliscious greeted. He saluted with his wing, and turned his attention to the ponies below.
Fluttershy asked her question, and it was a doozy. “Are you going to… live a lot longer than me?”
Twilight’s eyes grew two sizes. Her mouth opened and closed, and she swallowed an invisible stone. “I mean… who’s to say… who gets to live longer than whom?”
“You know what I mean,” Fluttershy said sadly.
“No,” Twilight answered sharply. She leaned a little towards her date, who didn’t react to the advance. “A few days ago, I… went to see Princess Celestia to ask. She said that she wouldn’t make such a decision for me without asking first.”
Fluttershy turned, and their muzzles came within an inch of each other. Angel and Owliscious leaned over the leaves, nearly falling.
“But,” Twilight added, closing her eyes, turning away. “She said I have the option. She said we would just have to cast a spell. It’s simple, but for alicorns only. And it’s… irreversible.”
Fluttershy’s head dropped lower than it had in a week. Pushing her mane out of her eyes, she sat up and relaxed her shoulders. “And if I were to… learn pegasus magic, and… devote a lot of time to it. Do you think I could become an alicorn too?”
Twilight didn’t say anything. She was suddenly distracted by something, or, rather, anything. “Maybe,” she eventually decided on. “I mean, I don’t know. It was just a thought.”
Angel had to check if his heart was still beating anymore. Every bit of this conversation seemed to grip it, twist it, slow it down to nothing. He looked over at Owliscious, whose head was turned down, his eyes closed with force.
“You never finished the book you got me,” Fluttershy noted. “Is it alright if I spoil it for you?”
Twilight shrugged. She started rocking. Angel wondered what her heart was doing. And when Owliscious started rocking himself, he figured the infernal owl was wondering the same.
Fluttershy raised her chin and watched the clouds pass overhead. “Thousand Heart… breaks it off with Daring Do. He decides that… she’s too important to the world to settle down with him, and… he knows he shouldn’t make that decision for her, but… he still can’t do it.”
Their muzzles came close to each other again, not even half an inch away. A breeze pushed their manes lightly away from each other.
“I think you’re going to save the world someday, Twilight Sparkle.”
Angel’s body folded towards the tree branch, and Twilight started breaking. A few tears sprang forth. And then the wiping. And the sniffing. Fluttershy took a deep breath, her eyes closed, and put her wing around her friend. Owliscious did the same for Angel, hoo-ing softly.
Fluttershy had one last thing to say.
“It’s obviously your decision, but… If I’m all that’s keeping you from it, well, um… I hope you’ll ask for the spell. And I hope that no matter what you choose… that we’ll still be friends.”
Twilight sniffed loudly, pulling her own chin up high. She scanned all over the sky, as if it had answers for her. “Okay,” she murmured. “…Alrighty then… I’ll just…”
The princess departed without another word, and Owliscious flew off after her. Angel raced down the tree and stepped in front of Fluttershy, who now watched the sky herself. His foot thumped against the ground ferociously, and his eyebrows angled in a disappointed glare. But he stopped, clutching his paws together. His ears fell down behind him.
Fluttershy lowered her head to greet him. “Hi, there, Angel Bunny,” she blubbered, biting her lower lip. “I want, I-I-I… Uh-m…”
Angel leapt onto the bench and massaged her flank, wishing he had arms wide enough to wrap around her.
“I want to go home now.”
***
That night, Angel climbed into Fluttershy’s bed to give her a squeeze around the neck. He’d never wished to be able to speak, or write, at any point in his life. After all, why string together words in a slow, frustrating process, when he could simply draw a picture, and have a thousand of them? But as he listened to Fluttershy’s easy breathing, and the occasional sniffs that punctured the air, sleep coming nowhere near her, he wished he could speak just one thing to her. He had something to say that no picture could ever convey.
But he did have a working idea. He would draw it on her page-a-day calendar, right at the bottom. A purple pony and an owl, and a yellow pony with a rabbit, both pairs walking away from each other. He would circle the words, What is Strength? and draw an arrow pointing to his yellow champion.