//------------------------------// // Act 1: Woody Woes // Story: The Hearths Warming Woodcarver // by DakariKingMykan //------------------------------// ACT ONE Inside the Woodcarver’s Shop, it was even more beautiful than Twilight and Spike expected. There were so many strange and wonderful objects everywhere. There were even fountains made of wood, with bits of stone carved in so the water wouldn’t rot the wood. There were some musical instruments too-- fifes, ocarinas, drums, maracas, and even kalimbas. Twilight and Spike were just mesmerized as they looked all around, until they were snapped out of their trance when a voice called… “Please, kick the snow off your boots... And shut the door; you’re letting the cold in.” Twilight and Spike quickly did as they were told, and then wondered who was calling to them. From the back room behind the cash-out counter came Woody, the carver himself and the owner of the shop. He was an elderly Earth Pony stallion, with a faded beige coat, and a gray mane with showing white roots due to his aging, along with a matching mustache, and short beard. He wore a green carving apron with a few visible tools sticking out from the pockets, and his cutie mark was a picture of a chisel. “Oh, Princess Twilight…” he said trying to sound calmer and polite. “Can I help you?” Twilight kept looking around admiring his work. “This is all so beautiful.” she said while looking at a wooden figure. “Thank you…” replied Woody “But I ask again, is there anything I can help you with?” It was then and there that Twilight could feel the sense of downing in his voice, and then she also noticed the lack of Hearths Warming decorations in the store. Apart from the items, there was a single decoration to behold. Twilight then cleared her throat. “As a matter of fact, yes… I was wondering if you were coming to the Hearths Warming celebration in a few days. As Princess of Friendship, it’s my duty to see that the spirit is warm and wonderful for every creature in Ponyville.” Woody did not look a bit pleased or interested. If anything, he seemed very annoyed. “Every pony who’s come into my shop keeps asking me that, and I tell them all… “No thank you.” I am too old for such things. I will stay here and work.” Both Twilight and Spike were flabbergasted. “You’re just going to sit here, doing nothing but work, all through the holidays?” Spike asked. “Yes.” replied Woody “I keep to myself, and remain loyal only to my work.” Twilight now knew there was something wrong. “But you can’t just do that. It’s Hearths Warming. It’s a time to be joyful, to bask in the glories of warmth and peace, and…” “And presents, don’t forget presents…” Spike cut in, which earned him a stern glare from Twilight. True, presents were nice, but not all that important. “Sorry.” Spike peeped. “Princess Twilight.” balked Woody, and then he quickly got hold of himself and softened his tone. “I understand and appreciate your invitation, but I must decline.” He paused and looked rather depressed. “Maybe you and your friends and others feel joy… …I do not.” “But why?” asked Twilight. “Why don’t you feel joyful?” Woody sighed, “Life… has been very good to you and others. For me: Not been so good. Hearths Warming does not bring me any joy or fun, just the opposite, and that is my own problem. I am still more than willing to offer my services, but I am afraid I am not the celebrating type. That is all you need know.” Twilight tried to insist, “Please, I want to try and help you.” but it was Woody who insisted, “Please, Princess Twilight. I have made my decision, and I don’t wish to change my mind. …That will be all. I am quite busy.” Twilight opened her mouth to say something, but ultimately it came out, “Come on, Spike. Let’s go.” Spike followed her towards the door, but he stopped to look at the ballet clock one last time, wishing he could afford it. “And shut the door please!” called Woody, and with that, Spike left the shop too. “Wow! Something really is wrong with him.” he said to Twilight. Twilight nodded, and she still couldn’t understand. “How can somepony not be excited or happy about Hearth’s Warming? Just sit there alone and work?” She really wanted to dig in deeper to Woody’s troubles and hope she could help him, but Spike reminded her “We’ve got too much to.” he held up a clipboard of the many appointments they had and places to check out for the festivities. Twilight could only sigh, and try to put it out of her mind while she worked. “I just wish I knew what was bothering him so much.” If only she had known…! Woody spent the entire day in the backroom of his shop, carefully chiseling and carving wood to make more items to sell. It got dark pretty fast, but he just kept working by candlelight until he could work no more. Luckily his home was just above the shop, so he didn’t have to go too far. The poor pony was deep in despair as he climbed the stairs to his home above. To him… it seemed there was nothing left to live for, and this was part of the reason behind his refusal to share in the joys of Hearths Warming. As he entered his single room apartment, he looked all around the place, and his eyes fell upon a certain area in the corner, where a beautiful woodcarving hung on the wall. It was a beautiful heart-shaped picture frame, with white painted doves around it, and a family portrait placed inside the heart. This was Woody’s family, and the sight of the picture drove him to tears, as he backed up against the wall, and slumped miserably to the floor. Many, many years ago, as a young stallion, Woody lived for his family. They were the most important things in life to him. While still an apprentice woodcarver, his wife died of hypothermia on Hearths Warming Eve-- figuring skating upon the ice, and falling through-- leaving him with a baby filly to care for. He did his best to care for his daughter, but as soon as she became old enough to help her father with the chores, she fell ill with a fever, and she, too, died… on Hearths Warming Day! Woody had long since turned his back on Hearths Warming; cursing the holiday for taking his family from him, and only saw the holiday as a constant reminder of his sorrows. He never told anyone really about this, not wishing they be involved, not wanting to be a burden, and believing that nothing could be done for him. So he kept mostly to himself, remaining only faithful to his work. It kept him alive and going, but now as he was growing older; his hooves were growing unsteady, and his eyes dim. His only Hearths Warming wish was the same that his wished every year and all year long-- that he would soon die and put an end to his misery. Woody managed to get back onto his hooves, still lost in his darkness. He turned a small key to a music-box he had made, many, many years ago when his daughter was born. It played such sweet and soft music for a pony in despair, and poor Woody fell miserably upon his bed as the candle went out, leaving him all alone in the dark of his home.