//------------------------------// // Chapter 14: Vivid Memories // Story: A Grand Journey // by willow_whistle //------------------------------// Clover had never been a particularly gregarious pony, and she had begun to grow increasingly uncomfortable with her loneliness and inability to get along with other ponies (or, really, any other creature at all).  The only real friend she could recall having in her unnaturally long life-- somewhere in the vicinity of 500 years, she had lost interest counting after 235-- was Wintergreen:  a very kind, and silly, but deceptively intelligent donkey, but she even drove him away, after a fight she had with their son.  She knew she shouldn’t have involved Peppermint in those experiments, but she felt she’d be putting him at a disadvantage: not showing the colt how cruel some creatures could be.  That was another problem of hers: assuming most would be as cruel as she was if given her power and authority. Clover very much missed Peppermint, or “Pep” as she and his father often called him, and hoped very much that he was doing well.  She did genuinely love Pep, even though she was very much afraid to show it-- both to the colt and herself; being so long-lived did tempt one to avoid forming attachments (even if she had failed to resist the charms of one in particular)-- for fear of coddling him or possibly making the boy afraid of the outside world.  She had not utterly failed as a mother, though!  She had successfully taught Pep to think for himself, even if the conclusions he reached were ones she couldn’t stomach.  Clover hadn’t seen her son, or her husband, for at least a year now; since she left their caravan in order to pursue more magical experimentation among the dragons to the NorthWest.  It was strange, she never had really sought company before, but she very sharply felt the absence of her family when she saw the families of dragons living in Ember Vale, where she had been for the last few months. Whimsy Weatherbee-- a stout, chubby dragon, with orange scales on her body, red spines lining her back, a kind, round face, and overall motherly appearance-- made her way down the stairs leisurely, her clawed feet making a heavy thud with each step against the wooden platforms.  “G’mornin, Ms. Clover!”  her chirpy voice rang out, “Did ya sleep okay?” “Aye, lass, that I did.  Thank ya.” Clover stated flatly, but with an appreciative smile.  “It’s still awful kind of ye to let me stay with you an’ yer family.  I’m not exactly… welcome by my kind back home anymore.”  Clover felt stinging tears threaten to to streak across her face-- remembering Greenie’s raised voice telling her not to ever come back, and Pep’s tearful eyes when she dismissed what he told her so readily-- but she just hid her face behind her mane, trying not to take advantage of Mrs. Weatherbee’s kindness anymore than she already had by implicitly demanding comfort.  This failed, as she gave a very audible sniffle. “Clover, you’re shuddering…” Whimsy began, and put a clawed hand on the back of the unicorn’s neck.  “You don’t have to talk about it, but I could tell from the moment I met you that you’re not a bad pony.  I’m an excellent judge of character!” She said, permitting herself a momentary chuckle, before putting on a serious face, and looking Clover right in the eye.  “Seriously, though, Clover. We all change as we get older, and-- at least in my neck of the woods-- it’s usually for the better.  I can’t think that whatever ya did that you’re running from is really so bad that you can’t be forgiven.” “Ye cannae know that, Whimsy!” Clover spat, barely avoiding shouting.  Whimsy flinched at the sudden snap, and Clover apologized with a scrunched muzzle and a hoof on the dragon’s shoulder.  “Sorry, I’m just… I mean…”  She was interrupted by an unrestrained, crushing, dragon hug. “It’s okay, honey, I know you’re having a rough time…”  Whimsy whispered in as comforting a tone as she could.  “I just hope I can help you somehow, is all.  I’m worried about you, spendin’ all that time running around casting spells in the woods back there.  You’ve been a great help with tutoring Spike, that’s for sure, but--”  Clover started bawling unreservedly at the mention of her housemate’s son, thinking of her own little Peppermint, and how he must hate her so very much. “Uh, mom,” a little dragon whelp-- with purple scales, a yellow underbelly, and green-and-orange spines on his back-- began nervously. “Is Mrs. Clover okay…?” “Yes, Spikey, she’s just having a…”  She paused for a second, considering her words carefully.  Ponies were so emotional, you really had to be careful with them.  “Nervous breakdown?  No that’s not it, it’s more of a… self-pity-induced ugly-cry!”  Clover began to sob harder, thinking she definitely deserved this, even if it wasn’t intentional on part of the dragon. “Mom, I really don’t think you’re helping…” “Oh, hush, Kenbroth, you’re only fifteen.”  She replied, pointy snout turned up, petting the sobbing unicorn like a cat. “Hey, fifteen and three quarters!”  The (relatively) little dragon snarled, white smoke puffing out of his nostrils in a chuff. It had been two and a half years since Minty had come out to her parents as a trans molly, and the rest of the caravan ran her mom out of camp on a rail-- not literally, of course.  The nearest train tracks were all the way up in Unicornia.  While Minty had never gotten along particularly well with her mother, she genuinely expected her to-- as Sunny Daze said-- ‘be, like, chill about it, okay?’  But Clover was most certainly not ‘chill’ about it, Clover may well have demonstrated such a severe lack of chill that medical diagnoses would consider it terminal.  She was all ‘Peppermint, you cannae jus’ decide te be a different gender than ye already are!’ and ‘Magicians like me have been tryin’ to make a spell ta do that fer centuries, an it jus’ doesn’t work right!’  Minty didn’t care about that. Minty didn’t care about being exactly like every other molly, mare, or jenny; that just wasn’t important to her.  Minty just wanted to be Minty, and part of that was, even if only superficially, being a girl.  Dad understood that, his friend Moondancer and her foal Razzaroo did too, and so did Sunny, Alphabittle, and…  Whoever else!  Minty didn’t need to rationalize how she felt by going down a list of everypony else she knew, and she certainly didn’t need mom’s approval either!  No matter how much she wanted it, no matter how much of her sixteen years on earth she had dedicated to trying to win Clover’s approval, and never getting it for anything because she wasn’t born with a unicorn horn and couldn’t do magic like her mother!! Minty bawled to herself, wrapped up in a blanket in the bed of a covered wagon, full of hay.  She felt like doing nothing.  Just rotting away and allowing the moss, and worms, and flowers to reclaim her… Until a raspy, yet sill high pitched voice, accompanied by blue-and-white mane, a purple horn, and two donkey ears of the same color stirred her from her usual evening-crash-reverie. “Hey P-- uh, crap-- Minty!”  Razzaroo fumbled.  He meant well, but he’d known Minty since forever as ‘Peppermint,’ and could be forgiven for the occasional fumble.  “We’re nearly to Ponyville now.  You gonna get up or just stay in that little quilted cocoon?"  Minty grumbled, sniffled, and hid a grin from Razz. “Hehe… quilted cocoon…” she said to herself, with a slight chuckle, but otherwise didn’t respond to her friend. “Is she out yet?” A voice somehow both boisterous and shrill called out, much louder than necessary given how close its speaker was to the wagon. “No, Sunny, but you know how excited she was to come here and see that medicine mare though, so we gotta get her up.” “Oh, right!”  Minty brayed, and jumped to her hooves.  “Lamplight!  I gotta go see Mrs. Lamplight!” “Well hey there, dead-mare-walking.”  Sunny said with a playful sneer.  “I thought Razz would never learn enough necromancy to get you up out of your grave, good-looking!” Minty flushed at this, and found herself privately wishing Sunny Daze wasn’t such a flirt, but she’d be lying to herself if she didn’t admit the confidence boost was a much needed one-- even if the lack of it could be easily corrected by Lamplight once they reached Ponyville.  She stepped down out of the wagon and walked along with her two friends, almost bouncing in place with excitement.  “Sorry for being such a log, guys.” “It’s not your fault that your mom is so totally uncool, Mints.”  Sunny said, with complete sincerity that she never once thought might be diminished by her phrasing. “Yeah, no offense, Minty, but…” Razz paused, and looked thoughtful, but then simply stated “Clover was a real jerk,” and left it at that, as he used his baby blue magical aura to pick pieces of hay out of Minty’s mane. “None taken, and I gotta agree,” Minty nodded along. “But, let’s just not talk about my mom, okay?” “Sure, sorry.” Razz stated flatly, and looked guiltily at the ground. “Tubular, girl!”  Sunny brayed with great enthusiasm, before her eyes momentarily widened, and she pensively added “Oh, and, uh, sorry.”