//------------------------------//
// The Opportunity (Octavia X Pear Butter) 
// Story: Paul's Friendship Collection 
// by PaulAsaran 
//------------------------------//

"Oh, dear. Are you alright?"

She shrank back from the voice. It was an adult voice. Adults were bad. They'd make her go back, make her legs hurt some more. She curled up against the Trottingham street corner, trembling as a sharp wind knifed through her damp coat.

"Hey, hey. It's okay." A gentle hoof brushed her mane. Tender. Patient. Not like anything she could remember. "Celestia, you're cold as ice! What are you doing out here all by yourself, sweetheart?"

No eye contact. Don't speak. Strangers were bad. Still, she glanced. Cream coat, orange mane. Don't look at the eyes, don't look at the eyes!

"Watcha lookin' at, ma?"

She flinched at the new voice. Not an adult. A red colt, a little older than her. Same mane as the adult. He stared down at her, curious and unconcerned despite the rain. "What's wrong with yer legs?"

She pulled her fetlocks under her. Strangers weren't supposed to see.

"Those are... practice marks, Mac," the adult explained. She had a nice voice. Adults shouldn't have nice voices like that. "It means she practices a lot with something, like me and my guitar. But for them to look like that..."

She trembled some more. Not because of any wind.

"Sweetie? Do you live around here?"

Despite the mean voices screaming in her head not to, she couldn't resist meeting the adult's eyes. She shook her head, hating herself for the lie. But she didn't want to keep practicing. Her legs hurt so much...

The adult pursed her lips. It was an angry look. Why was she angry? She didn't do anything wrong. But if she did she was very sorry!

The look fled as soon as it came. The sweet voice returned. "Why don't you come with us? We can get you some nice, warm cocoa. That sounds nice, doesn't it?"

She was pretty cold. Cocoa did sound nice. She looked to Mac. He stared right back. He looked... fine. Nothing wrong with his legs. The rain made his mane stick to his face, yet he appeared unconcerned. What was that like? Maybe... She started to stand.

"Ah. Miss Octavia. There you are."

She bolted.

"Miss Octavia! The Master won't put up with this childishness! Get back here at once!"

Her hooves pounded the cobblestone pavement. Water splashed in her wake. Her eyes burned as much as her legs. She didn't want to go home, they couldn't make her go home. No more. No more!

She kept going. Going until there were no more shouts, until there was nothing but the rain and the sound of her hooves and the ache. Then she collapsed and let the rain drown her thoughts.





She awoke in a ratty bed with a scratchy comforter. A pair of green eyes were nearby.

"Ma! Aunt Dabinett! She's awake!"

She trembled in the corner until the adult came. Cream coat, orange mane. Orange filly on her back.

"Hello, Octavia. Would you like to have that cocoa now?"