Dear Luna,
I would like to begin by apologizing for taking so long to follow up on your previous letter; the past month has been rather busy for me.
I must thank you for reminding me of the lightning-transmission spell the two of us formulated during our thousand-year sojourn on the moon. I had indeed been quite wary of knowingly allowing my various opinions and viewpoints to pass through your sister’s hooves. Your offer to invoke the Pinkie Promise to ensure the secrecy of our correspondence is appreciated, but also seems unnecessary. Both Pinkie Pie and Twilight Sparkle appear to place a great deal of importance on trusting one’s friends. Thus, if we are to be friends, I think your personal honor shall be surety enough for my purposes.
Similarly, your guess that I’d decided to follow Rarity’s advice was also correct, as was your inference that my proposed business would somehow involve hoof-made clouds. I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised, though, given that I’m a product of your mind in the first place. I have taken to introducing myself as an “artisan cloudsmith” to other ponies. This, I’ve found, causes many to give me more leeway in my social skills, most likely due to confusion between the words “artisan” and “artist,” though as Rarity has pointed out, my new profession has qualities of both.
I have given my business the name Cloud Nineteen (Pinkie Pie thought it was a memorable name). Essentially, I use the considerable pegasus magic available to me to condense specialized clouds for non-weather purposes. At the moment, I’m leasing an unused room in Sugarcube Corner to use as office space to meet with clients as a cloud structure would be inaccessible to earth ponies and unicorns, and I have constructed a workshop in the airspace above the store, at an altitude high enough to avoid being an eyesore (Mrs. Cake insisted on this). If my shop proves successful, I hope to be able to move towards the outskirts of town, where I’ll have more room to showcase my creations.
Business is not exactly booming, but Rarity assures me that it takes time for most ventures of this kind to turn a profit, so I am not despondent yet. Knowledge of my services has become widely known in the local pegasus community, due to the gushing praise Rainbow Dash gave to the sofa I crafted for her in my first week of business, and I’m currently finishing work on an advertisement for the Carousel Boutique, to be placed directly over Rarity’s store at an altitude where it will be visible from one of the most-used air routes between Las Pegasus and Canterlot. In addition, I have resolved my conflict with Derpy Hooves, the pegasus whom I unintentionally insulted at the spa, and she graciously accepted my gift of a cloud sculpture of her with her young filly, which has also increased my reputation locally.
As to my feelings on the job, I enjoy it immensely. Cloud Nineteen does more than simply alleviate my boredom; it gives me the satisfaction of knowing that I am contributing something to society. It is a feeling that, until recently, I had no idea was missing from my life to begin with. And, as it turns out, creating these clouds is actually rather fun, albeit in a way that Pinkie Pie has difficulty understanding.
I suppose this is the point where most of my friends would write a “friendship report” for Princess Celestia. As I still feel a bit uncomfortable conversing with her, I hope I shall be forgiven for making mine out to you instead. This experience has shown me that, even though perseverance is often difficult (particularly when the biggest obstacles are the ones you create yourself), you can rely on your friends to help you to reach your goals. There were many times when I felt like giving up on what seemed to be a fool’s errand, but the encouragement and advice of Pinkie Pie, Twilight Sparkle, and all my other friends in Ponyville (and, of course, you) allowed me to see my plan to fruition, and I’m already starting to reap the benefits.
Your friend,
Penumbra