//------------------------------// // 25 - Preening 101 // Story: Soft Reset - A Novice Chronomancer's Guide to Tempomancy // by Foxvolt //------------------------------// PREENING 101 “-and if I have to watch Feather Bangs dance his hooves through another pop ballad in the street over Sugar Belle, I’m gonna put him on his flank myself.” Night Glider groans, peeking left and right over her shoulders as she speaks conspiratorially. “Don’t tell anypony I said that.” I nod and flash a brief but shallow smile. We’re in the open and bare living room of my newly-erected cottage, number 13. Some cultures associate the number with bad luck, or some form of ill omen, but there’s no reason to believe a number could be responsible for ‘bad luck.’ It’s just a cottage; An odd-numbered one, the newest and furthest down the line on the north side. Night Glider’s one of the few pegasus mares in the village, and she volunteered to help show me around town and took me into her cottage for a few days while everypony was helping build my place. She’s the spunky type, like a lot of pegasi, but it’s a dull edge placated behind what I can only assume are years of conformity. She’s got a bluish-gray coat, and a jet-white mane with gray streaks that looks like it struggles being tied up. She made it less-than-subtly clear she misses her old habits in the few days we’ve bunked together, even went so far as to show me a little trinket from her old life, some wonderbolt memorabilia pin. We get along alright, and right now we’re both staring at the empty cottage, just waiting to be filled with the standard decor of every other cottage; Three flower pots, cloak and ribbon stand, nightstand, towel holder, and other miscellanea. There’s a plain bed in the solitary bedroom, and a small table in the corner of the living room. There’s no kitchen or dining area, since everypony eats all three meals at a designated mess hall at the front of the road. The only decoration that’s been put up so far is a framed picture resembling the symbol of equality emblazoned on both our flanks, and it’s tilted. Just barely, but it’s enough to get my brain ticking in all the wrong ways. “Goldfish, something wrong?” “No. The frame’s just crooked, stole my attention. Sorry.” She looks away from me as I look back to her, then I follow her gaze back to the picture as a few seconds of tentative silence pass between us. “It’s okay to miss it. Not to say you do, or that you will, but… Some of these ponies who’re gonna go unnamed do alright following Starlight’s code and still keeping that old part of themselves in the back of their head.” She nods at the picture before looking away again, a brief hint of sadness slipping from her face like rain off a hydrophobic polymer. “Most of us are as happy as you get without all that, though! The chance to really leave it all behind, start new, like whatever happened in your old life’s just a bad dream… Lots of ponies could do with that, so we’ve got to be thankful to Starlight for bringing us all together. Even Feather Bangs.” She glances sidelong at me and grins, but the humor isn't quite as convincing this time around. There’s a certain tension in her voice, indicative of… Some sort of emotional response. I’ve read behavioral studies on what that sort of deference is reflective of, but ever since my Cutie Mark was sealed away I’ve been having a much harder time recalling much of anything. Names, places, historical events, the periodic table- All of it’s just out of reach at the outer perimeter of my mind. I feel awful having to ask ponies their name two, even three times before it sticks. It’s a problem I’ve never had to deal with until now. Not to say I didn’t ask for it. ‘If you’d like, you’re more than welcome to give Our Town’s ways a try! We’re always happy to accept a new friend into our midst, no strings attached.’ Starlight’s voice rises up in my mind, replaying our last encounter over a week ago before my indoctrination. ‘There’s another pony, a dear friend of mine. He’ll come looking for me if he knows I’m- If he can. What if he finds this place?’ ‘Well, that would just be amazing if he did! I won’t pry on your past, but if you two had your differences before, I’m certain there’s no better place than Our Town to put them aside!’ Ten days, a musical number, and an entire town full of ponies building me my very own cottage later, here I am. “Think I’ll be happier without it.” I admit to the both of us. She gives me a knowing look for a couple seconds, but pursuing that line of thinking is frowned upon here. So is talking about old Cutie Marks. And honestly, I don’t mind that. “I left you a spare brush of mine in the bathroom. We don’t have any good preening supplies floating around though, so you’ll have to wait for Woodgrain to get around to fabricating some. He’s had his hooves busy making repairs lately, so it could be a week or two until you have all your own non-essentials.” Glider circles around to my other side, giving the empty room a cursory glance for the eighth time. “Yeah, it’s all good. Been without for longer. Thanks for the help, I think I’m gonna take a break, maybe get a nap in. My hooves are killing me after the last week.” I stretch out one hind leg behind me, then the other as I stretch out my wings and ruffle the feathers. True to my word, they send signals of abuse and overwork in the form of dulled pain back to my brain. I wince inwardly, but I don’t let it show on my face. “Yeah, I guess I’ll leave you to it then!” She smiles again with that slight edge of hesitation. ‘Do I care enough to ask?’ I think to myself as I close my eyes during the stretch, pretending I didn’t notice. ‘Do I care enough to let her ask?’ I tuck my wings back in and stand back at full height, and she’s still looking at me with a politely-disguised curiosity. ‘Dammit.’ “Got a question?” I turn and prompt her, indulging whatever it is that’s got her attention despite my better judgement. She’s been nice to me, only fair I’m polite to her. She hesitates once more, like she wants to say something, but isn't sure what or how. “The cutie mark? Symbolized my memory. Probably why I forget things now that it’s go-“ “No!” She interrupts me rather loudly. I blink several times in surprise, and she stands for a second with her mouth hanging open trying to reign the conversation back in. “No, sorry, it’s just… We don’t talk about those here. Not even if we’re curious. I was wondering about your wings. If it’s okay for me to ask, are they stunted or…?” “No.” I respond curtly, trotting over and moving to stand beside her for a practiced lecture. Even standing at full height, she’s at least a head taller than me, like most ponies are. “My wings are small, but so’s the rest of me. I can’t do glides or endurance flights well, but because of that there’s less drag, so I can hit corners easy. Small wings, but it’s about proportion, not length.” She takes a step back as I unfurl my wings again, then takes a step forward again and gingerly extends one of her own beneath mine to inspect it while I finish my explanation. I hear her murmur a quiet understanding as it clicks in her mind, and she steps away once again as I furl them against my sides again. “That makes sense, I guess. Sorry if that’s an uncomfo-“ “Get it all the time, I’m used to it.” I shrug, cutting off the familiar apology. “…You shouldn’t have to be.” Huh? I look over at her and she’s biting at her lip, looking down at the floor. “Really, no big deal. Everypony’s curious, it’s just how ponies are. My body’s different, just like everypony else. No point getting upset about it.” I shrug again, feeling the dreadful onset of an emotional dialogue. “Yeah, they are. And that can breed hate and resentment, which drives ponies away from each other.” She monologues dryly, reciting one of the town’s proverbs. “I shouldn’t have pried, you’re here because you wanted to leave all that behind, like everypony else. Even if you’re okay with it, I still shouldn’t have asked. So, I’m sorry.” She finishes, bowing her front half in a gesture of contrition that just doesn’t look right on her. “Apologizing doesn’t look good on you.” I say plainly. Her head darts up and there’s a mixture of confusion and shock on her face before she recovers. “What?” She asks, as if she’s not sure she heard me right. “You don’t look good when you apologize. Some ponies are born to bow and scrape, you can tell looking at ‘em, you’re not one of them.” I elaborate flatly. Her jaw slacks a bit and her eyes narrow as she tries to read into it, but I spare her the trouble, shrugging a third time with a casual disinterest. “We’re even now.” It takes her a second to realize what I’m saying, but she looks like she can’t decide whether to be insulted or amused. I wait patiently for her to choose one, but when she doesn’t after about half a minute I fake a big yawn and start to circle back around her again towards the sparse bedroom beyond. “I’m gonna rest, thanks for all your help. I won’t tell anypony about anything we talked about. See you at dinner.” I brush past her as she continues to observe me in quiet indecision. I step into my room and extend a wing to nudge the door closed, leaving her to her own devices in my living space. Before I push it closed she finally speaks up from behind me. “Hey! I, uh… I know we don’t really have any spare supplies, but… If you need a hoof preening, I’d be happy to help.” I feel my extended wing tense up at the prospect, making wrapping the edge of the door suddenly a much more challenging endeavor. I turn my head over my shoulder and narrow my eyes a bit, gauging if she’s being serious. She’s holding herself in a strong and tall pose, and there’s a very intentionally nonchalant air of confidence about her, starkly contrasting the apologetic display from a minute ago. “… Are you propositioning me?” I deadpan, turning and facing her directly, tucking the misbehaving wing away. She raises an eyebrow and scoffs silently, then very slowly shakes her head and sighs. I can’t help but feel like I approached that the wrong way. “See you at dinner, Goldfish.” She mutters with a disappointed smile, turning and with a quick flap of her wings boosting herself up to and out the door, shoving it closed with a hindhoof on the way out. “…Huh.” I mumble to myself, turning around and hopping up into my bed, laying on my front and being careful to unfurl my wings slowly, looking them over. They really do need some attention, but I’m way too tired to start plucking right now. I let my head fall onto the pillow, and I’m out within seconds. - - - - “Aah… Oo- Ouch! ow ow ow!” “Sorry! Sorry! Doing my best here!” I’m so glad I don’t have wings. They’re a great mode of transportation, and with proper training they can be really efficient natural magic capacitors, but if I had to re-calibrate and deep-clean my horn every five to ten days for up to an hour at a time, I’d probably have lost it years ago. “Twilight, stopstopstop!” “The feather’s almost out, I promise!” Rainbow Dash left town yesterday after the, as we’re apparently dubbing it, ‘double pinkie’ event to attend Reserve duty for the Wonderbolts. Mostly routine check-ups to make sure all the pegasi are keeping in shape, but sometimes they get held up for a few days. That’s all well and good, but that left Fluttershy without her childhood wingmare to help with her weekly personal grooming. ‘I mean, I have read an entire anthology on pegasus wing shapes and care, as well as some papers on their biology and skeletal structure, but I’ve never actually, you know… Seen a pegasus groom themselves. I thought that was sort of reserved for family and close friends?’ ‘Oh, I know! That’s why I’m asking you since Rainbow Dash isn’t here. I’d be too embarrassed to ask Bulky. Cloudchaser would probably take it the wrong way. And Derpy is a great pony and all, but she’s… Fluttershy had trailed off, looking up at me with a reserved grimace and a shiver. ‘Point taken. Alright; I mean, it shouldn’t be much different than taking a bath, right?’ Wrong. So wrong. Inquantifiably, undeniably, and irrefutably wrong. I had the forethought to cast an Aville’s localized on the one wing in the event I did screw up so that she wouldn’t feel too much discomfort. The issue with that is the spell is only surface-level, and her feathers connect to her nervous system near the base of each feather and all along the ridges of her wings, especially deeply near the primaries when the connections meet muscle and tendons. I put a ‘Closed’ sign on the front door for the sake of her privacy and we settled on upstairs on the floor to start working, at the foot of the bed and close to the bathroom if we needed water or cleaners. She brought a feather straightening tool and a fine-fibre brush the size of a toothbrush from her home and I started with the latter, focusing it in my telekenisis and gently brushing little bits of dirt, fur from other creatures, and other miscellaneous debris from between her feathers. At the start I think I did a pretty good job. I used short, gentle strokes like I’ve read winged species prefer, and every feather got individual attention until it gleamed. She held her wing out for me, and I pressed down gently on the mid of her spine where they connected to her back to hold her still. She made a couple strange noises throughout the process, but knowing that a pegasus’ wing is often classified as an erogenous zone I just kept the uncomfortable blushing to a minimum and kept my focus on the wing. About forty minutes in we hit the snag. One of her main primaries was half-broken at the base, and twisted beyond realignment. She said when it was that bad it meant it had to go, so I switched to the remover and did my best to make it as comfortable as possible. “Oow!” Fluttershy yelps as I finally pluck the offending feather from its’ slot, dropping it on the floor and preparing a simple mending cantrip for the socket to help it along. Before I can fire it off though, the wing rips itself back inwards and Fluttershy holds it tight in both her hooves, biting at the inside of her cheek and squeezing her teary eyes shut “Fluttershy, are you alright? I’m so sorry, I didn't know it was going to be that painful- Here, I’ll get you some ice. Just, uh…” I hop up onto all fours, my eyes darting around quickly trying to think of what I can use as a container for ice that would conduct the coolness, but not agitate her sensitive feathers. “Um, hold on, I think I have something fine-woven in the cabinets? Uh, a silk wrapping maybe? Do we have silk fiber?” I fire off a series of three quick teleports, quickly checking the top cabinet in the bathroom, the towel closet, and giving the entire basement a quick look-over. Nothing that fits the bill enters my line of sight. Fourth teleport, back to the bedroom. Now, how can I apply cooling without a gentle applicator? Oh yeah, magic. Right “Fluttershy, can you hold out your wing for me? I’m gonna chill it with a modified everfrost spell, that should numb the region a bit so we can apply proper healing evocations and-“ “N-no, that’s alright, Twilight. I think I’d rather let it heal normally- not that I don’t appreciate the offer, it’s just-aaahf-!” She lets out a pained groan and sucks down a short breath between gritted teeth, holding it for a few seconds before venting it out of her tense form. “Uh… Are you sure? I mean I don’t wanna give you a sales pitch or anything, but I’m a lot better at healing magic than I am with preening tools.” That gets a chuckle at least, but I can tell there’s something in the crux of her wing I must have really agitated or pulled, because she winces again and clutches the featherless spot on the inside tightly. “Mmhm, I’ll be okay. I just… I should head home, I have wing wraps there. I’m sorry Twilight, I shouldn’t have made you help. Oh, shoot, now you probably feel bad…” She chides herself, grimacing, though it’s hard to tell if it’s from the pain or inflection. “You didn’t force me, I said I’d help! I’m just sorry I’m not very good at it…” I counter, stepping around to her front and offering a hoof. She looks up at me and gives a weak smile as I help her up. Once she gets on all fours I see her left wing fidget and constrict a few times, and she winces again as she gingerly folds it against her side after a couple tries, pressing against my hoof that she hasn’t let go of. After her wing’s folded she looks back to me and I give a sheepish apology-smile in return. There’s a beat of nothing, but then she slips her hoof off mine and leans forward to give me a big hug. “Thanks for trying Twilight, really. Maybe after it heals we can try again, sometime?” She suggests quietly. I return the impromptu hug with a firm hoof across the back of her shoulders with a nod. “Yeah, and I’ll see if I can find any guidebooks on ‘how to not cause muscle damage while preening when I have the time between testing this new spell.” I chide myself, shifting my weight from left to right and back again. She chuckles softly, giving me another squeeze before letting go. We exchange a brief goodbye and I quickly levitate her things (including an overnight bag, in case she ended up staying for the night again I guess) before she trots out the front door, trying to keep her left side from brushing against anything. And now I’m standing in the middle of the library, alone, playing back the awful screw-up over and over again in my head. Great. Just great. That‘s gonna keep me up tonight. With a shameful trot reserved for failing in spectacular fashion, I snag my copy of “The Aspiring Mage’s Guide to Thermal Recalibration: Vol. 2” off the lectern and make my way towards the basement. A small prick at the back of my mind surfaces as I pass through the door, and I backtrack a few steps, gazing over at the non-fiction section. I take a brief look around at nothing, weighing the importance of stopping Star Swirl and asserting my will against time and space, versus reading up on winged creatures and their cleanliness rituals. “…” The silent conversation with myself’s over before it starts, and I make a detour to gather one or seven of the most reputable guides and tomes on the subject I can find. - - - - “Horsefeathers.” I curse under my breath, kicking a foot at the dirt and rocks as I try to catch my breath. It’s been almost two weeks since I got here and I’m barely able to finish a full circuit around the training camp in ten minutes when it takes the other trainees less than three, two for the earth ponies. And it hasn’t gone unnoticed. “Spike the Dragon, eleven minutes and counting.” A booming mare’s voice calls out from overhead. My instructor, my drill sergeant, my tormentor. “If you think your time is acceptable then I expect three more before the sun sets. Twenty three and counting, drake!” “Aw, come on-!” I let slip before I can catch myself, and immediately my hands stuff themselves into my traitorous mouth, but the damage is done. Robin, the Lunar Trainee’s overseer and trainer, is suddenly right in front of me between blinks, kicking up a massive dust cloud beneath her hooves as she flares her wings in irritation. “Was that a complaint from somepony training to serve her royal highness Princess Luna?” She spits the words like the idea of me not kissing her hooves for generously allowing me to run in circles is pissing her off. “Thirty, past dusk!” She leans forward to yell directly into my face, just to be sure I got the message. “Uhh- Sir Y-Yes Round Robin Miss Ma’am Sir!” I blabber out as my torso tries to catch up to my legs in an effort to leave the scary pegasus as far behind me as possible. She stands tall and intimidating in the middle of the track to glare at me as I keep running, but eventually huffs and launches back into the air in a fluid corkscrew motion, barely disturbing any of her surroundings unlike her landing. I keep my eyes forward and focus on my breathing. In through the nose, out through the mouth. In through the nose, out through the mouth. “On your right.” A colt calls forward, and I instinctually shift left on the track to make way for another of the faster ponies to pass me. I feel some wind whip past me as the large stallion plows past, but he slows down a few paces ahead, then he slows down a little more, and then he falls in line with me at what seems like a painfully slow canter to him, but feels like a deadpony sprint to me. “Oh, h-hey… Bulkhead…” I wheeze out, already running out of breath after my very brief moment of recuperation. “Wha- *wheeze* What’s up?” “Next corner, hop on. Catch your breath. Robin can’t see the forest stretch.” He responds with his pointed and brief mannerism I’ve come to experience the last couple weeks. Bulkhead’s a dull grey earth pony with the build and stoic attitude of Big Mac, though he talks more freely. He’s got a cutie mark of what looks like a big metal door, and a completely shaved mane that barely grows an inch in any direction. Despite the rugged muscle draft-pony look, he has a knack for funky ideas that get him into trouble. Like trying to bribe the chef for extra rations, or playing dumb with the instructor about an objective so that the others can sneak past on stealth training missions. Honestly, he’s even more of a team player than I am. Not to polish my own fins. “Nah, I- I’ve got it. Don’t want you… Get into… Trouble…” I give him a thumbs up between chest heaves and manage the best confident smirk I can muster. He gives me a quick nod before we turn onto our next straightaway together into the forest stretch of the run. As soon as we round the corner and the trees obscure our line of sight into the sky, I feel a powerful forehoof scoop me up from behind and suddenly I’m riding on Bulkhead’s back. “Yeah, alright- Thanks.” I huff quickly, relishing the next thirty seconds that he takes to clear the straightway as my legs scream bloody murder. It’s a brief respite, but before we break back into the open I suck in another big breath and hop off his back, giving an open-palm slap to signal my departure. “Part takes you just under two minutes, duck out for a minute before you keep going.” He calls back in a somewhat hushed warning, then he takes the turn back into the open light and I lose sight of him. Good call, I wouldn’t have thought about that. I glance back to make sure nopony else is on the track to notice, but I see a light blue unicorn just a few paces behind, giving me a wide grin as she gets ready to take the turn. “Buuuusted~” She chimes playfully as she runs past, scooting just for enough to the right as she does so to flick me with her tail. I roll my eyes and blow the mare a raspberry before I duck into the treeline, taking a knee and laying flat against one of the trees like I was taught in the first week of camouflage lessons. That was Rosarie. She’s got the playful attitude you’d normally expect from a flyer, though with how she specializes in magic I consider her at least half pegasus. She’s got a light blue coat with a deep red braided mane, and a cutie mark of a super complex series of red and blue lines that apparently represent air currents. She’s a supportive caster, useful when she has friends to help boost and maneuver, but pretty useless on her own in a fight. As useless as a Unicorn could ever possibly be, anyways. First thing I learned in spars and combat basics: Unicorns are always the priority target. A good earth pony or pegasus can take you down hard and quick if they’re good, but even a novice unicorn can take a whole squadron down with them if they really go crazy. And a good one can do it just as fast from a distance. Thinking about combat implications for all the different races put a lot in perspective for me. I heard about what happened during the Canterlot wedding, but actually seeing an earth pony trying to beat a unicorn in a fair fight makes me wonder if there’s an earth pony alive that could beat Twilight on her A game. I hear what must be the two pegasus recruits, because they’re running almost completely in sync with each other like they’ve been practicing for the last few days. They’re getting a lot better at masking the sound of their hooffalls together, but I can still tell it’s them thanks to my keen hearing. I hear them approach then take the corner, and I decide it’s time to reemerge and keep running the lap. Two minutes or so have passed, and I’ve got a second wind backing me thanks to Bulkhead. I’ve gotta give him some of my rations or something, that’s like the third time he’s bailed me out since we got here. I break out of the treeline and back onto the track, determined to finish my extra punishment laps before dusk, just to spite Robin.