Now, where were we? Ah, right, the morning.
The sun had now risen to its summit high above the clouds, and added a touch of humidity to the crisp autumn air. The natural chorus of the woods was in full swing now - the birds were chirping and cooing and flapping their wings, the squirrels scurrying about, looking for that one perfect nut - but inside that little log cabin in the woods rang out... laughter?
Yes, there was much joy to be had inside White Pine’s and Samara’s, his wife’s, humble woodland home. The reason? Why, it was their daughter’s birthday! On this day several years ago the young couple had been given this little foal life, and named her in sentiment of the beautiful foliage of the maple tree. Who would have expected she’d go on to earn her Cutie Mark in the fine art of extracting sap from her namesake and caramelizing it until golden-brown and sweet as sugar?
It’s always been Maple’s dream to share the fruits of her super-special talent with the world, but her parents had never considered her old enough to make the long journey to the city on her own. But this birthday was different. After much pleading last year, White Pine had finally caved in and taught his daughter the art of commerce, as well as some basic literacy and math. But we’ll get back to that. For now, LET’S PARTY!
{• • • •}
Maple awoke with a wide smile on her face. But before she could even say a word, a sweet sound graced her ears - music! The familiar tittering whistle of the pine flute, at the expert hooves of her mother, were a rustic symphony unto themselves. Maple had always thought that Samara should perform with that wooden choir, blowing in the melodious notes of better days, harmonious years. Perhaps the ears weren’t the only things to be serenaded. Maple closed her dreamy eyes and took a deep breath, taking in the scents around her.
Ah, the pioneer-esque musk of the wooden walls was always definable, reminding ponies that hard work creates great leisure; the calming aroma of the river wafting from the sheets - you could almost hear the crashing of the mighty stream, spritzing drops on your hooves if you stood too close; and... and... what was that sweet smell? Wait, is that...
WAFFLES!?!?!?
The filly’s eyes snapped open, and tears of joy formed at the corners of her sapphire eyes. She violently ripped the caramel-hued velveteen blanket that had warmed her through the night off her body and sprang out of bed, already galloping a mile a minute when she hit the ground. Oh, waffles! She had only been able to experience them once in her life, but she knew one thing. Waffles were undeniably the best, fluffiest, creamiest, and ultimately delicious thing anypony has ever concocted! It was even better than her maple syrup!
Wait a minute.
Pearl-white hooves adorned with scarlet armbands skidded to a stop and similarly-coloured haunches collided with the floor, their owner deep in thought. With an aloof smirk, Maple decided to put her new-fangled math jargon to use. Hmm... Waffles equals delicious. Maple syrup equals delicious. Delicious plus delicious must equal...
POSITIVELY DIVINE!
Two oceans of blue snapped open to full attention. By Celestia almighty, this momentous feat must be done! As if in a trance, the filly’s body told itself to scramble to its hooves, race to the pantry, and rip the door open, almost off its hinges. Amongst the many bottles of food, drinks, and preserves was the diamond in the rough, the tasty needle in the haystack, sparkling happily with an amber glow like a gooey star - her own, hoof-made maple syrup! Maple grasped the little glass bottle in her mouth and continued on her galloping to her breakfast, which would now taste infinitely better.
The flute’s song was getting louder now, and a familiar tune was recognizable - “Maple’s Lullaby”. That song had been gracing its namesake’s ears ever since she was a little foal, but the song was still fresh and exciting (as well as tranquilizing) every time it was heard. Ah, what wonderful memories it brought back - of simpler times, of better times... Of a mother’s sweet embrace as its foal’s eyes fluttered closed, to bring forth a new realm of dreams... Or, in this case, birthday waffles! Huge, golden-brown, square-holed, buttermilk waffles - on her birthday!
Maple had the urge to burst into the kitchen to an invisible fanfare, tackle the plate containing her prey, and gobble the dimpled discs whole. But, being the polite little filly she was, she settled for a canter, her eyes ravenously hunting for the prize. The music had lost all traces of a muffle, now very much audible, and equally as beautiful. The kitchen had a whirlwind of senses all to its own - the windows letting in scenes of nature by the dozen, vividly portrayed in the sunlight; there was always that sweet aroma of something cooking, making you ache to have that something in your belly; and of course, the amazing taste of Samara’s cooking.
Finally, after what seemed to be an infinite trot down the hall, the floor finally had the cool feeling of linoleum. Had Maple expected the tumult of cheering ? Had she been prepared to be swept high off her hooves, to be wrapped up in a minutes-long hug? It seemed to be a frame out of a dream, too picturesque to be true... But everything was going perfectly.
Utilizing a time slot occupied by repeated smooches on the back of her craned neck, courtesy of some soft lips that smelled a bit like oranges, Maple peered around the kitchen like a hawk, searching for that steamy pile of waffles. Well, the most obvious place for it to be was on the kitchen table, which was set in a red-and-white gingham picnic blanket - Maple’s favourite fabric! - yet the trio of white dinner plates sitting atop the checkerboarded sheet remained empty as a clear sky. Perhaps they were trying to hide the waffles, for them to be a surprise? No - they wouldn’t do that, seeing how she’d clearly notice the smell. But then, just as White Pine was gently lowering her daughter back onto her hooves, she saw them!
The waffles, golden-brown and ready to be devoured, were still sitting in the frying pan, which once sizzling and bubbling with oil but now subdued to a mere hiss. There they were, and the glorious shimmer they appeared to radiate brought weakness to the filly’s knees. So, Maple simply stood there, awestruck, with her knees trembling and eyes the size of pie trays. Curiously, her parents attempted to follow her focal point, until they realized with a chuckle just what had their foal so aghast.
”Oho! So it’s the waffles that finally got you out of bed, sleepyhead!” said White Pine, rustling Maple’s crimson mane with a strong hoof. ”Does the birthday filly want some?”
Without a second thought, Maple sprung into the air and almost hit the ceiling with her repeated chants of ”Yes yes yes yes!”. She only stopped her frantic bouncing when White Pine’s hoof drove into her head once again.
”Then sit down and eat, silly filly!” White Pine said with a guffaw at the adorableness of it all. ”But what’s that you’ve got in your mouth?”
”Mahuw hyruph,” Maple replied clumsily, forgetting that she had the bottle in her mouth. She silently beckoned to her father, whose horn began to glow in an emerald aura and slowly lift the bottle from her mouth. “Maple syrup,” she repeated slowly, but still holding her cute little grin. ”For the waffles.”
The next quarter-hour or so was lost to the waves of incomprehensible pleasure crashing like a torrenting river through a certain filly, whose mouth was chock-full of buttermilk clouds and maple syrup aboun. Those two fit together like day and the sun - it was just meant to be. There were many “mmm”s and “oh my Goddesses this is amazing”s to be had that day.
Finally, Maple found herself once again, reclining blissfully on her chair, hooves resting on her bloated belly and eyes closed. Little fragments of explosive flavour still dotted her mouth, and she explored the crevices of her teeth with her tongue, searching for them. What a birthday it’s been already, and it’s barely just begun! What exciting events lay waiting in her itinerary? Maple opened her mouth wide and yawned at the pure relaxation and bliss she was experiencing. Sometime while Maple was savagely ripping away at her breakfast, Samara had opened the window, and an autumn breeze rolled in, blowing softly on Maple’s face. It certainly was chilly...
”Cold, isn’t it?” Samara said, in her calm, soothing voice. Whenever Maple heard it, she knew things were going to be okay no matter what. With her eyes still shut, Maple nodded slowly. ”Here, let me warm you up...”
Very gently, Maple felt a pair of small hooves lift her back off the chair and something slip over her forearms. It didn’t weigh as much as one of Father’s fur coats, but it certainly was nice and comfy. Slowly, two oceans of sapphire fluttered away from their sleepy recesses and scanned over this velvety blanket. No, it definitely wasn’t Father’s fur coat. In fact, it fit her perfectly! Was it made for her? Maple held out her hooves in front of her and craned her neck, observing the new garment. It was a deep maroon in colour, with a gorgeously dainty lace design outlining the stitch. It was a vest Samara must have made just for her! And how creative a delivery!
”Do you like it it?” Samara cooed softly, with a slight grin on her face. ”I made it myself.”
”Like it?” Maple inquired with a questioning look on her face, although her eyes were swimming with happy tears. ”I love it!” Maple sprung up and wrapped her mother in a tight hug. ”Thank you so much for making it!”
”I’m just glad you’re happy.” Samara smiled wide at her daughter’s display of affection. ”Maybe you can wear it on your first business trip...”
”Yeah, that sounds go-WHAT!?!?” Maple gawked at her mother incredulously, hardly believing her ears. Could they really? Could it be true?
”Yep, that’s right, Mapey,” White Pine emerged out of the corridor with a wide smile on his face. [color=]”Your mom and I have been talking, and we’ve decided you’re old enough to go out and do business.”
”You mean... selling my maple syrup?” Maple questioned, her eyes brimming with tears of joy once again. What incredible fortune she’s been having!
”I made that vest so you’d always have a reminder of home, even if you go off to the big city for long periods of time.” Samara said, almost whispering.
The tears were flowing freely now, and Maple outstretched her hooves to yank her dear father into the hug. She cried with a lump in her throat, ”You guys are the best!”