As far as Sour Grapes was concerned, things went back to fairly normal. Grapes were harvested, weighed, and put into the cool of the processing room to await processing. Workers were supervised, advised on when to get water, work checked, paid, and fed lunch and dinner. Some of the farmhooves went to town, and partied, coming back in the wee hours of the morning, but they were quick to discover that their employer had a distinct lack of sympathy for their shenanigans. One morning she came out and there, the enormous pony with the studded vest and the tattooish looking cutie mark of a bent thorny branch, with red buds on it, was standing there wearing his saddlebags waiting outside her door. She blinked at him, in quiet alarm. She had already lost three ponies, already, this season, and now it looked like she was about to lose yet another.
"Good morning. Basashi, wasn't it? How can I help you?" Grapes asked in obvious trepidation.
He smirked and then his face grew serious again. "Well Miss Sour grapes. I don't like leaving you in the middle of your season, but, well, that is to say I have to go now."
"Is there a problem? Like you said, it's the middle of the season, and you've been one of the better workers we've had," Grapes asked, looking concerned.
"Well it's a little embarrassing to say but... I've decided that I should go back to Altai-Traz prison and finish of the rest of my sentence," the large pony uttered, rubbing the back of his head, looking, indeed, quite embarrassed.
"Wait... What?"
"Well I did say it's embarrassing... You see, I've only served part of my sentence before I escaped from the Altai-Traz Penitentiary. I thought I'd lay low a while and so for the past few weeks here I've been going native, hoping nobody would think I was hiding in plain sight. But I'm feeling like I really should go back now," Basashi said, earnestly. Grapes just tilted her head in obvious confusion.
"You, apparently, was... Eluding capture, but now you want to go back, and serve your sentence," Grapes uttered, sounding like she was trying to come to grips with the concept. "This is obviously a stupid question, but why are you going back, aside from the obvious desire to 'pay your debit to society' as it were?"
"Well that's pretty much it. Working here hasn't been all that bad, it's not like prison is the better option to working for you or something," Basashi replied, obviously trying to explain himself. "Well... there is something else."
"And what would that be?" Grapes uttered with an exasperated sigh.
"Despite nobody really looking for me here I keep checking over my shoulder and worrying that they might somehow find me. Not really for what they might do to me... Heck the Royal Guard backed down when I just stamped my hoof at them. It's just that I don't want to cause YOU any trouble. You've been a fair employer to us all, you didn't jerk my reins and didn't take it when people jerked yours." Grapes blinked in sheer surprise at that declaration.
"Oh... Well... Thank you. Uh... Give me a sec," she said, ducking back inside. Grapes quickly found a piece of parchment, and her quill, and she quickly wrote out a letter of reference. "Hard worker, not causing any trouble, wishes to pay debit to society, yadda yadda yadda," she murmured as she horn-wrote all this out. Hornwriting was the only "delicate" task she could manage with her limited ponykenesis, but even that was somewhat difficult for her, for prolonged periods of time. The brown unicorn went back to the door, and offered him a sealed envelope. "Don't know how much a letter of reference from me will help you, but..."
He took the letter in his lips and carefully placed it in his saddlebag. "Thank you very much. I appreciate your sticking your neck out like that. It really means a lot to see there are good ponies in the world."
"I did write that I didn't know, until you told me, about your great escape... Er... If you don't mind me asking... How did you get taken in, if even the Royal Guards backed down? And what the hay was your crime in the first place?" Grapes asked, obviously curious.
"Well... Despite the reputation of the Freerunners we're not violent ponies, but we have our moments where we get a little full of our own mythos. The guards stepped up and I felt ready to buck them back down because my bronies where there behind me... Then the Princess appeared. I don't know about you, but while I could probably take a whole squad of guards there was no way in Equestria I was gonna mess with a Sun-juggling pony who was willing and able to send her own SISTER to the moon to keep the peace," Basashi paused and giggled nervously. "And the disappointed look she had on her face was not something I wanted to see again. You see, the Freerunners and me had been passing through Canterlot and well... I kinda got hungry and ate Celestia's award-winning Royal Roses." Grapes did not know if she wanted to facehoof, or laugh. So she did both.
"Oh by the sun disk, you DIDN'T!" Grapes uttered, shaking her head. "So she put you in Altai-Traz for eating roses? But everybody eats roses... True, they usually wait until they've been pruned, and put in the store..."
"You don't understand... I ate HER roses. Just three days before that big gardening contest they have every year. I couldn't resist.. they were just so delicious."
"Oh... horseapples..." Grapes uttered. "No wonder... Well, thank you for being so honest with me, and good luck."
"Thank you very much for being so understanding... and good luck with the help. I think the slackers are coming around." With that the burly brown pony trotted out of the gate. Grapes sighed, then proceeded to start her day, a pony short.
Lunch came around, with Grapes setting out the buffet graze with an air of slight distraction. Four ponies gone. True the harvest was still on track, but it looked like she was going to have to see about more workers, at this rate. She had to admit that the early culling had helped a lot... It was a pity that Fritter didn't stuff his basket like he had stuffed his face or she might be ahead of schedule. She sighed and then noticed that gray pony come out of the fields with his baskets and set them next to the scales before picking up the next two. He was definitely an asset... He never complained, never shirked his duties, never went into town except on the weekend and always came back before midnight. He worked hard, kept to himself and was easy on the eyes... He was too good to be true. There was probably unseen layers to him and after losing Basashi she had the horrible feeling that they might prove problematic. Grapes sighed, and checked over everyone, one more time; then called them to lunch, giving them the customary hour off. She packed herself a sandwich, and trotted off to visit her cousin, Doctor Crabapple. It was better to get the customary checkups required by the Ponyville Statute of Fair Employment sooner rather than later. The later one put it off, the easier it was to forget that vital step.
Everypony in the area who knew him, usually knew him as Ol' Doc Crabapple. With his green body and gray mane as well as his crotchety attitude, it was easy to fall prey to the illusion of him being, well, OLD. He was actually not much older than Sour Grapes was. Crabapple started out quite optimistic and positive, but he quickly found out that nobody ever seemed to take his advice seriously. It was only when he adopted the personality of the cranky old country doctor that ponies accepted his word as law, and now he seemed unable to drop the facade anymore. He was however one of the few ponies who seemed able to put up with her snark. She clip-clopped up to his door, and knocked, before sitting herself on the familiar rocking chair, and eating her rye grass and grape leaf sandwich.
The door creaked open and the young stallion stepped out on the porch. He still looked old, that is until you looked past his coloring and expression and saw the rather youthful pony that still lay beneath. He glanced over and smirked when he saw her. "Sour Grapes... And what do I owe the honor of you darkening my doorstep?"
"Mph," Grapes uttered, before swallowing her bite of sandwich. "I'll have you know I am NOT darkening your doorstep. I'm nowhere near the darned thing," she added, with a smirk. "Why I'm here, though, is that it's getting to be that time again, and if I put it off, it's likely you'd be sent by Mayor Mare's office, and I'd rather avoid that."
"Oh... THAT," he said flatly. "As if I don't have better things to do than poke and prod ponies per Employment period."
"Well, I would presume it pays the bills," Grapes observed, as she ate more of her sandwich. "So. Tomorrow good for you? Or any other day?"
"Tomorrow is good as any time," Crabapple grumbled sticking his head under the table and pulling out a brown jug and some glasses. He poured two glasses and then had a seat. "At least it's a good way to make a few extra bits. So how are the latest batch of newbies?"
"I've lost four, already. Two didn't like assertive mares, one tried to single-hoofedly eat all my Merlot grapes, and one, a Freerunner believe it or not, decided that to go and serve a prison sentence that he'd escaped from in order not to get ME into trouble," Grapes said, taking a sip of Crabapple's cider, shaking her head at the kick.
"A Freerunner? Boy THAT takes me back," Crabapple smirked sipping at his own.
"Crabapple, you're not that much older than I am," Grapes uttered, giving him this look. "So don't use that 'takes me back' crap on me, okay?"
"Sorry... But I met a Freerunner when I was taking medical courses at Pindosburgh University... I always hate having to tell people I Graduated from P.U." the green earth pony replied, with a chuckle.
"I hear ya. I did take some mail-order business courses from there... Their correspondence courses were all I could do, what with the vineyard needing me and all," Grapes mused, and sipped more of her cider, then she sighed. "I may be being too cynical, but I'm expecting something to be off about my best worker. Gray earth pony, with the strange name of Stormfront... How many EARTH ponies are named after a weather pattern? I guess it's just because I've lost four, so far, but... I'm expecting a disaster."
"In case you haven't noticed, pony names are pretty darn strange to begin with," he chuckled. "Still, if it gives you pleasure I'll be extra-thorough with him. Just remember to point him out to me."
"Will do, cuz," Grapes said with a nod. "Welp, I'd better head back, before they wreck the frames or something."
"I'll probably stop off noon-ish, provided some fool pony doesn't run themselves over with their own cart or something. I know how my life works," Crabapple groused.
"I hear ya," Grapes said, hopping off the chair. "See you tomorrow. Thanks for the cider."
"See you tomorrow."
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The next morning Grapes announced to the farmhooves that they were going to get their quarterly examination around noon. There were some groans, and complaints, but they were half-hearted at best. The only one who did not complain was Stormfront. The large gray pony in his quarter blanket simply nodded, before getting started on the day's labor. Obviously the harvest was going to be cut short, due to the examinations, for this one day. Still it was better to get this over with, than have to worry about a fine. By the time noon actually rolled around they had actually gotten some decent work in. She had half expected them to slack a little because it would be pretty much a half-day. Crabapple arrived on time... And without a word began to set up over in the Bunkhouse, pulling everything out of his bag that he would need.
"All right, everypony, this is the drill. Doctor Crabapple has a list of your names, and will call you in, when he's ready to see you. Then you'll get some lunch, have the rest of the day off," Grapes said, levitating her list, nodding, then putting it back into her vest, which was still the threadbare version she tried to get replaced.
"All right.... Listen up," Crabapple said standing on the front porch of the bunkhouse. "I call your name, you get your rump in here. First Pony... Wild Oats." A slick pony who had more than once been led back to the farm by constibles after hitting on the wrong mare stepped up to the Doctor, then inside. The door shut behind them and for the next few minutes the farmhooves busied themselves by pulling up the lunch table and starting a game of cards. Grapes sighed, and shook her head. That one was probably going to have some kind of mating-transmitted disease, she just knew it.
Wild Oats emerged a short time later looking rather relieved and headed over to the table joining in on the game. "Barndancer" and the doctor was joined by another Pony. Time passed and one by one they went into the bunkhouse and came right back out again. Some happy, some not. Grapes sighed, watching the progression, just knowing that something was going to go wrong for her.
Soon it was Stormfront's turn. He got up and headded to the Bunkhouse and for a moment she saw him next to Crabapple and was reminded that he was a pretty large pony, almost as husky as Big Macintosh, just a little... well... the word 'Sleeker' came to mind. Stormfront stepped inside and the door shut. It might have been her imagination but as the minutes passed by it felt like they were taking extra-long in there. Sour Grapes checked around the grape frames, checking the fertility of the soil with her Earth Sense, while she waited. She would look back at the Bunkhouse, every so often, waiting for Stormfront to come out. Finally the door opened and Stormfront stepped out, giving his belt a tug tight before smiling and nodding to the Doctor who smiled and nodded back. She did notice that Crabapple had a strange smirk in the way he looked at the larger pony as he walked back to the card table. He then noticed her looking at him. He seemed to be chuckling as he shook his head, a sign that maybe Sour Grapes had been TOO worried about it. But that look Crabapple had a moment ago suggested to her that SOMETHING was weird... just not dangerous.
The chocolate brown unicorn pursed her lips, making a horsy raspberry shaking her head at her own worries. Just being a glass-half-empty kinda filly tended to make her look for disasters where they weren't going to happen. So maybe Stormfront wasn't going to be a problem, but she suspected Wild Oats may be, eventually. The Vineyard couldn't get that kind of reputation. And yet there was SOMETHING about Stormy that bothered her... He WAS hiding something. There would be no point in asking Crabapple... She saw him stand up to some of the most belligerent of prying ponies when it came to confidentiality. There would be no wheedling it out of him... But maybe if she were to ask the right questions at the source... After all, he was a good worker, and she could be considering him for a more permanent position, if he wanted it. Well... That was the truth of the matter, to be blatantly honest. Stormfront was the best worker she had, this season, and she needed to cultivate as many good workers on a permanent basis as she could. Like it or not... the vineyard was BIG and really needed the ponypower to keep it running efficiently.
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The next day was a repeat of the first, though Sour Grapes paused to exchange words with the workers, offering some encouragement, which was a bit of a surprise for them, considering her usual demeanor. She paused by Stormfront, and took a deep breath.
"Good morning," Grapes said calmly. "I was wondering... Is there any way I could know more about you? Er... Don't get the wrong idea, it's just that I'd like to know more about the ponies I'm considering for a more permanent position on the Vineyard, and you're one of the main candidates."
"Oh? Well is there anything in particular you wanted to know?" He answered seeming surprised but not in any way defensive as she was concerned he might be.
'Oh he's got a nice voice, too... Head. In. GAME, Grapes!' Sour Grapes thought, then cleared her throat. "Well... A little background would be nice. Where you're from, former occupation, that sort of thing..."
"Oh well I'm from Maneland. It's a small town near Cloudsdale, not really rich but a popular resort for Rich ponies who want to THINK they're 'roughing it' without really losing all the creature comforts they're accustomed to. It's on a plateau about halfway up the side of Saddlehorn Peak. Nice place, friendly people, lots of little restaurants. I think you'd like it," Stormfront replied, as he continued to work.
"Sounds like it. The mountains aren't very good grape-growing country, though," Grapes joked lightly. "Sorry to ask, but why did you leave?"
"Well I wound up with a nice government job there. Honest pay for honest work and a retirement fund. Pretty much sanctioned by Princess Celestia herself, but Well... It's embarrassing, but one day I forgot to pay attention to what I was doing and I got hurt.. Pretty badly. Last few months have been filled with me recovering from my injuries. I'm almost fully recovered," Stormfront replied, as rose up on his hind legs, to tug a large branch that had grown into the frame free. Just then his blanket shifted, revealing his flank, and Cutie Mark. Sour Grapes found herself looking, puzzled, at a dark menacing storm cloud with a pair of wings 'hugging' it.
'What Earth Pony has a Cutie Mark like that?!' the brown unicorn thought, bewildered.
Stormfront dropped the grapes into a basket and dropping back to all fours, unconsciously tugging his blanket back into position. "It's been... interesting down here. You spend enough time on the side of a mountain you forget there's a whole WORLD of ponies below."
"I guess that's possible," Grapes mused. "Sometimes it can get that way, here. Sometimes one can forget that there's a world beyond the gate, being so caught up in the running of things..."
"Still I got to admit I probably wouldn't mind working on your Vineyard on a more permanent basis," the big gray pony observed.
"What about your government job, Stormfront?" Grapes asked. "You're about recovered, after all..."
"Well my job is great and all but to be honest... I don't get called to do stuff that often. I work hard when they call me in but sometimes it feels like they're just keeping me on retainer. Hm. I think if I talk it over with my superior, maybe they'd adjust things so I'd be a part-timer. Only paying me for the time I'm actually needed and the rest of the time I could work here," Stormfront replied thoughtfully.
"Okay, I guess," Grapes mused. "Got to wonder, though, why did you choose to work here out of curiosity?"
"Luck of the draw I guess... The doc who patched me up suggested the thicker air down here would be good for my recovery. After spending some of my savings on just doing the tourist thing on the back of a haycart I finally got restless enough to want to DO something. By that point I was in Ponyville so I checked out the big board and Bang... Here I am. The other option was me working at the bakery and well... My baking skills border on masonry," the big gray pony uttered, looking a touch sheepish.
"Never mind Pinkie Pie would have probably driven you absolutely crazy by the end of your first day," Grapes said chuckling imagining brick-like muffins.
"Oh yes... Nice Filly but not sure she's all there."
"Knows how to throw one heck of a party though," the brown unicorn observed chuckling. "Anyway, I've monopolized enough of your time. Keep up the good work, Stormfront."
"Thank you, Miss Grapes. It's nice to know you actually know the names of your workers. Too many employers don't care unless they're really ticked off at them," Stormfront said, as she trotted away. She nodded to him, a slight smile on her face, as she continued on with her supervisory duties.
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Later that evening, after all the work had been done, ponies paid, and dinner for the workers set out, Grapes entered her home and smelt the wonderful flavor of her mother making home-made truffle chocolates. Entering the kitchen there she was ladling the thick warm molten chocolate into molds where they would harden. Her father was at the other end of the table checking his accounting.
"Hey, raisenett, how was your day?" Champ asked, laying down his pencil and smiling at Grapes, warmly.
"Went well enough. Had a nice chat with Stormfront about maybe signing on full time," the younger Grapes replied.
"Stormfront? Oh yes, that really nice pony with the blanket and nice smile." Champagne Diamond recalled as she finished with the chocolates and set them into the icebox to cool. "I like that one. So well mannered and yet it comes across as natural. Were I a decade younger and unmarried..."
"Oh Cham... You tease too much." Champagne Grapes chortled.
"You're the one who said 'buck tradition, I'm marrying who I love', Mother mine," Grapes chuckled. "Glad you did, else I wouldn't be here," she added nuzzling Cham.
"Oh yes. Your father was SUCH a gallant galloper in his youth. Of course I was far less frumpy then than I am now," Cham said a far-away look in her eyes.
"Oh darling you KNOW you're not Frumpy. You're still as gorgeous and graceful as you were on that dance floor," Champ said, gazing at his mate lovingly.
"See? Such the charmer."
Grapes chuckled, going to nuzzle her father in turn. "I'm going to head to bed. It's been a long day." She was about to leave when the chocolate-coated bowl wafted under her nose, thanks to unicorn magic.
"Are you certain Grapesy? Are you SURE you do not wish to help your dear mother clean the bowl?" Cham asked enticingly.
"Oh... Temptress. You've got me," Grapes laughed.
"So have you learned anything new about your young friend or have you against all logic taken my advice to leave his past be?" Champ queried, as Grapes delicately licked the chocolate from the big copper bowl.
"Aside from his being from Mainland, recovering from an on-the-job injury, and taking up farm work to keep from being mad with boredom... Nothing really. And he volunteered that information. Gave us something to talk about," Grapes replied.
"Oh yes. Lovely town... The Diamonds have some property there. Just a small manse where one can get away from the hustle and bustle of the city without losing ALL the comforts," Cham sighed with a little nostalgia and giggled. "Mother and Father seldom used it, but they allowed my brother to summer there. I should write him a letter and see how things are going this year."
"Uncle Cabochon was never as bad as Grandmother Pave," Grapes observed.
"Yes, Let that be a lesson that good memories together can help one keep strong relations in hard times, my sweet. Healthy relations... That reminds me, how many workers are we down to this month?" Cham asked, looking over at Champ.
"We lost four, so far. Fortunately Grapes got the slackers early," Her father agreed making the final touches to the accounts.
"All right, I've licked the bowl. Goodnight Mom. Goodnight Dad."
"Good night, Grapes. Sweet Dreams." her mother called, as she started to head to her room.
"Try to not dream of that Stormfront colt TOO much, eh salt-lick?" Her father added, chuckling.
"Father!"
"I'm just sayin'..." Champ uttered, innocently.
"Oh leave the girl be," Cham said play-swatting her mate.
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In the wee hours of the morning, Grapes found herself unable to sleep. She lamented that she no longer had the robust stomach all foals had where they could eat their weight in sweets without repercussion. Now it was all she could do to try to ignore the gurgling and occasional... strange dream. But Cham's chocolate was so GOOD... Grapes sighed, heaving herself up off the bed, and decided to see if she could walk some of the delectable sweet off. Grapes clopped around outside, sighing at her ill advised decision. The warm day was giving way to a stiff cool breeze from the east that gave some relief to her condition. All she needed now was some fizzy water and she would probably be able to shake the touch of indigestion she was suffering. Still... there was nothing like a cool drought of ordinary water for cleansing the stomach. The water trough was sitting there next to the pump full of clean cold water... beckoning. She thunked over to the trough, trying to be as quiet as she could, and drank a bit, sighing in relief. Between the water and the air she felt refreshed. Not a hundred percent but still refreshed.
She then noticed a movement from the bunkhouse. The door had opened and a figure stepped out and shut it quietly. She recognized the horse blanket if not the Pony's distinctive coat and mane. Stormfront was no doubt stepping out for a midnight constitutional... But he glanced to the left then the right before trotting off in the wrong direction for the outhouse. Grapes raised an eyebrow, and trotted, quietly after, curiosity inflamed. It always amazed her how quiet he was when he walked, somepony that sturdily built should clip-clop but she swore he could probably walk on a cloud. Still it was easy to follow him, even though the small forest behind her property and to the clearing she loved to frolic in as a filly. It was a gorgeous night and his gray coat looked nearly white under the light of Luna's handiwork. He stepped to the middle of the clearing and stood there a moment, the grass around him rustling as the wind tickled it. He then turned his head back and tugged at the belt that held his blanket on... Grapes held her breath as she realized she had never seen his flanks before and this act was somehow... exciting because of it. But as the blanket tumbled off his back she was completely unprepared for what was revealed.
Wings. Stormfront was a pegasus. Now the name, and that unusual Cutie Mark, made sense.
It must have been uncomfortable for him to keep them lashed down and work but still.... then she saw him slowly unfurl his wings. Stretching them out wide she could hear a few joints popping as he gave them a shake to fluff out the compacted feathers. He had BIG wings... She had seen photos of Celestia in the paper and this... This was like seeing her wingspan on a regular pony. They looked positively huge, and now he was... closing his eyes and leaning into the wind. It was such a strange thing to see, him there letting the wind pass over and under his great light gray wings... It looked almost as if he were flying without so much as lifting a hoof. His wings shifted subtly and she could almost imagine him gliding gracefully across the surface of the clouds... no... not even gliding... SOARING. A wingspan like that would have him moving like part of the wind itself. Whatever job he had was probably important... and probably connected to him flying. Grapes knew why he was here. Stormfront told her. However she could not imagine him being truly happy, stuck on the ground. She never thought much of pegasi before... Not that her opinion of them was LOW or something but rather they were 'Up there' somewhere and so out of sight out of mind. This young stallion was here and now, and so first and foremost in her thoughts.
"Something must have happened... That's the only explanation," Grapes mused as she went back to bed, with a sigh. "Just don't know what. Oh well."
The next morning Grapes felt awake and refreshed. A miracle when she considered the bout of indigestion and the *COUGH* feathery dreams she had after seeing her farmhoof in the moonlight. She would have almost believed it a dream itself if she didn't find the feather out in the clearing. Large enough to use as a quill and the same shade as his coat. She picked it up, smiling, deciding to keep it. A quill always came in handy. The farmhooves were out of the bunkhouse by this time. One or two who had spent their bits in town were dunking their whole heads into the trough to shake off the repercussions of a wild night. Sour Grapes tried not to think 'serves you right' and set about getting everypony's tasks for today settled before the light breakfast was served. She did notice Stormy's expression when he noticed the 'quill' behind her ear. Not so much fear as... shock.
"It's a nice feather I found in the field," Grapes explained, using said feather as a quill. "It's a lovely color, and in fine shape. Seemed like a waste to just throw it away."
"I... see," Stormfront said a little cautiously. "It is a very nice color... Looks like it would match MY coat. So, Miss Grapes, what can I do for you today?"
"Seems like we're harvesting the Bordeaux grapes, today, Stormfront. I've already gone through and gotten the sour ones, so it should be easy enough for you and the others. I'll be coming around to check on the progress, for today, and make sure you all get your water breaks and lunch," Grapes replied in a business-like tone.
"Uhm... yes. thank you Miss Grapes," the large gray pony said with a nod.
She heard one of the ponies in the group mumble "Apple Polisher," only for another to snigger and correct him "GRAPE Polisher."
"WHAT was that?" Grapes said to the sniggerers, in a very dangerous tone of voice; clip-clopping over to them, eyes flinty, but smiling with deceptive sweetness. There was an immediate shuffling of hooves and attempts at boy-like innocence that failed on their faces. She could tell it was Thistledown that said it, the way he couldn't keep from nervously grinning and desperately trying not to look her in the eye or he'd break down laughing. The Green pony peeked out from under his POOF-like mane of purple hair and nearly lost it there. "Congratulations, Thistledown. Guess who just got himself Outhouse duty."
Thistledown's smile faded quickly as he stared at her. "Oh fewmets."
"Then you're in picking room, de-seeding room, and inspection room," Grapes added sternly. "That may, but I have my serious doubts, teach you the value of being polite."
His head sank low, his neck drooping his head well below his shoulders before he mumbled: "Yes Sour Grapes."
"Very good. Move along, then. You've got valuable compost to gather. Any OTHER smartyponies have a comment, or complaint? You could all benefit from learning courtesy, and try and make it the common occurrence it once was, instead of being rude little foals," Grapes uttered, sternly. With the disposition of a pony sent to the glue factory Thistledown walked over to the well-used Fewmets shovel, stared at it a moment and then took the handle in his mouth and dragged it to the Outhouses where his unpleasant task awaited.
The other ponies stared at him then shook their heads and gave her various forms of: "Yes Ma'am"
"Very good. Bordeaux grapes. Start now, and be efficient. You're being paid by weight, not by the hour. Thistledown IS being paid by the hour, because I'm not putting compost on the grape scale. However, he is only getting half rate. Let that be a lesson for you all. Punishment detail means harder, more disgusting work, but fewer bits," Grapes said, crisply. It was gratifying to see that 'First Day' scuffle back in their legs again as they all were reminded who was in charge. She had to admit the 'Grape Polisher' remark was clever, but not really welcome. Even Stormy had a little 'panic' in his trot. It was gratifying to see she could make even him kick up his hooves. But then, sometimes one had to reassert one's authority. And the comment was, to be honest, rather rude, and insubordinate.
She gave everypony some time to fall into their work routines, checking up on the various projects on the Vineyard before visiting her Father as he was overseeing the finishing touches on the barn. "Ah. Hello there. How are things with the farmhooves going today?"
"Fairly well. I had to put one on punishment detail for being insubordinate," Grapes said, looking over the barn, smiling at how well the project had come along.
"Good to get that as soon as they crop up. It's one thing for youthful high spirits but quite another if your authority is being undermined. I hope it wasn't anything too out of line," Champ observed.
"Not much. Just the use of the term 'Grape polisher' in reference to Stormfront. It was rude to both me and to him. I'm TRYING not to show favoritism, but honestly he's the best worker we've had this season," Grapes replied with a sigh, shaking her head. "And we could do with more the ever uncommon 'common courtesy'."
"I've been keeping track of your tallies and while Mister Stormfront may not be the fastest but he definitely is the most steady worker I've seen in four seasons. I wish I could bottle work-ethic like that. Make a fortune."
"I'd definitely inject it into those others, or feed it to them in their oats," Grapes uttered jokingly.
"Yes. Your mother noticed a few slinking home from town this morning. Ah to be young and foolish again..."
"Bunch of spendthrift idiots, the lot of 'em. Hopefully Thistledown will be learning the value of thrift, being on half pay punishment detail, today," Grapes observed gruffly.
"Thistledown? The Poofy-maned one? What Am I not surprised?" Champ laughed, shaking his head in obvious amusement.
"A little too much spirit and not enough brain... I think the mane's an indication of the mind beneath, perhaps?"
"Ah well. When I was young I spent many a day mouthing the Shovel for my sins. So did you if memory serves me well."
"You were wilder than I appear to be," Sour Grapes mused thoughtfully. "But I tended to learn my lesson quickly."
Sour Grapes went back to the grape frames, checking on the farmhooves' work, making sure they take their water breaks, and after a bit of walking to make sure that the approach was casual she reached Stormfront. He was, again, balancing on his hind legs, stretching his neck out to nip a particularly high-growing bunch of grapes. Once again, his blanket had shifted, displaying that storm cloud being hugged by a pair of wings on his flank. This time, Grapes decided to comment.
"That's an interesting cutie mark."
She saw him stiffen in mid-pick. The bundle of grapes in between his teeth as he became aware of her looking at his flank and the unique icon upon it. "Uh... yeah. I'm... kinda attached to it myself," he said through his teeth as he slowly lowered himself back to the ground to drop the fruit into the basket.
"It goes with the wings, I saw last night," She observed, quietly.
He was quiet as he reached up to pluck another batch of grapes down before speaking. "Saw that, huh?"
"Yes I did. I can hypothesize all I want about why you stand out in a field, pretending to fly all I want, but that doesn't answer the question about why DON'T you fly instead of just pretending."
He continued picking grapes as she talked before glancing about at where the other farmhooves were before sitting down next to her. "Okay... I suppose you deserve the whole truth instead of just the pieces I gave to you. I want you to know I never lied to you. I have too much respect for you to ever do that. I just never told you ALL the truth."
"I figured that out, myself. The information you gave me sounded very plausible," Grapes said with a nod, and looked at the large gray stallion sitting beside her. "Still, better part of the truth than a whole lie."
"Okay... Where I live and my government job were all true. I work with a small group of Pegasai that do very specialized weather work. Now pegasi are renowned for things like our weather-making factory and in general controlling the weather. That's common knowledge. Heck your dad probably pays a dividend to the Cloudsdale weather regulation board to ensure that there's no rain on certain days. Am I right?" Stormy explained, gazing at Grapes in earnest, obviously trying to be sure that the brown unicorn believed him.
"Or just simply regularly scheduled showers to keep the grapes hydrated," Grapes observed, then smirked a bit. "There's one scheduled for tomorrow, as a matter of fact... Our poor party ponies are going to get a rude early awakening."
"Exactly! In fact sometimes they allow storms, which are occasionally needed to help shake things up a little. You know, kick dead-fall out of trees and stuff, but sometimes these get out of control. Sometimes two storms bump into one another making a big one... Or maybe a WILD storm comes in from an area where they just occur without Pony-intervention for example, the Everfree Forest. Now while pegasi can usually handle the small stuff without sweating, but these rogue storms can really do some damage. Especially if the pegasai aren't very clear on what they're dealing with. It's a highly specialized kind of work that needs ponies with a very particular mindset and talents... This is where the Storm Riders come in," Stormfront espoused, gesturing with his hooves occasionally.
"I see. You were one of the Storm Riders... I can see where you'd do well in that work. You've got wings like an albatross," the filly observed wryly.
Stormfront blushed and smiled shyly. "Why thank you. It's what allows me to be the, well, workhorse of the team. We all have specializations to different kinds of storms. Desert, ocean, mainland... You name it. Members like me might go out scouting for talent but Weathervain is the one who makes the final decisions. I felt proud when she gave me the nod of approval. We aren't always needed, with as many pegasi as there are out there it's only occasionally that you need the Storm Riders... Which explains why most ponies haven't heard of us, but when something like a tornado rears it's head... We're there to help out. We know you can't just BULLY a rogue storm, you need to look at it and coax it to be... less rogue, or nudge it off a more destructive course."
"Something happened with a tornado, I take it?" Grapes said, shrewdly.
"Yeah. Weathervain's instruments suggested we might be looking at one forming so we were sent to make certain is wasn't gonna cause too much damage... It was bigger than we thought. It's never easy to wrangle a tornado but we've done it... All we had to do was keep it from hitting any major population centers, like Ponyville. We went in, and did our job. All they probably felt was the outer storm, maybe enough to knock some branches out of their trees. Unfortunately the funnel moved in an unexpected way and started pulling in Earshot. He didn't have enough experience to get out on his own so... I volunteered to go in after him. Heck I got the wings needed to buck that twister, I was the best choice, and I got him out. I just... didn't see that the storm had picked up a hay-cart along the way," Stormy uttered, obviously reliving the memory.
"So you got knocked for a loop, and was sucked into the vortex. Probably dislocated your wings, and strained the flight muscles of your chest and back, along with other injuries," the brown unicorn mused, obviously showing the wide range of reading material she devoured in the winter months.
"It was like being in one of those big concrete mixer barrels, rocks and all. I had never been really CAUGHT in one before. Sometimes I got to see the eye of the storm, you know, where everything is perfectly calm... This was a nightmare. I can't even begin to tell you how TERRIFIED I was," Stormfront uttered, shuddering.
"So it left you with a fear of flying," Grapes observed, rather bluntly. "You, with the wings of an albatross, afraid to spread them, and take to the sky on a CLEAR day."
"Yeah. I awoke in a hospital a few days later, doctors telling me that I would recover fully and 'Be flying in no-time'... and that made my blood run cold. Twister may not have plucked me bald but up here..." he said tapping his head "Something got rattled badly."
"Hm. Got the wings but you're too scared to use them. It's a waste, to be honest. I'd think you'd only be afraid of storms, not flying. You'd lose your place in the Storm Riders, but you'd still have the sky. But fear's never logical, and while you may be a cowardly pegasus, you're a first rate farmhoof."
"Hard work has never scared me." he admitted. She saw movement under the blanket as his wings flexed. "Torn muscles and contusions have healed, and I've done the exercises the doctor recommended so they're strong enough... It's just every time I go to actually take off I'm back in the funnel again. I want to fly so bad I can taste the Stratosphere.... I just... I'm stupid aren't I?"
"Depends on your definition. I wouldn't call it stupid. Just irrational. Fear is irrational, but a rational pony can overcome it. Look around. Not a cloud in the sky, and the air is calm. Not likely for a tornado to come jumping out from behind the woods, there, now is there?" She saw him cautiously looking up beyond the safety of the Vineyard that had become his home and workplace. He had built a nice place for himself here on the level of the earth ponies, and now his vision of safety was slowly expanding once more. "Never mind you're bound to be more comfortable without having to wear that blanket," Grapes added, casually. "But if you still scared, we can always see if a mage could find a way to turn you into an earth pony. Maybe give the wings to somepony who could use them." She saw him stiffen a little, his mane bristling at the thought. She found a nerve, some streak of pride that really didn't like that idea at all. "So. What are you going to do?"
Stormfront looked at her, a moment, then up at the clear blue sky. He stared at it like a thirsty man looking at a glass of water right in front of him. Then he slowly rose to his feet, and half-turning his teeth found his buckle, undoing it. The belt clattered heavily to the ground followed by the horse blanket. His gray coat looked much whiter under Celestia's rays and those wings of his looked nothing less than magnificent as they unfolded and shook the kinks free. His eyes closed and he took a few deep breaths before opening them and with a leap flapped his wings downward with enough force to kick up a cloud of dust and dirt in her eyes. By the time Grapes had cleared them she saw him in the air above the Vineyard, going higher and higher. The other workers had stopped to stare, jaws dropped in total disbelief that the guy who made them look bad wasn't even an Earth Pony.
"Oh BLOODY fewmets," Sour Grapes griped, then began to pick the grapes herself. "Oh well. That's what I get." It wasn't that she WASN'T happy for him. He was just so nice and he deserved a happy ending of some kind. She just wished she had waited until maybe, oh, AFTER harvest season before giving her best worker back his wings. Now she was stuck with the usual batch of clowns. She picked the grapes in silence for a few minutes, cursing herself when she heard a gentle flutter behind her and a slight breeze.
A familiar pony shape was cast over her shoulder and she heard Stormfront's warm voice: "Thanks for covering for me while on my break Miss Grapes. I think I can finish up." Grapes scrambled out of his way, obviously quite startled that he'd returned.
"Oh... Sure. No problem."
Stormfront smiled at her (those nice teeth again) and chuckled. "What? You thought I was going to just up and fly off leaving you in my dust? Especially after being officially put on the long-term payroll by your father? Sorry Miss Grapes... you're stuck with me until at LEAST the end of the season."
Grapes breathed a sigh of relief. "Well... One could never tell. Most pegasai are so... flighty."
"Hey, I'd never leave anypony I consider a friend, in the lurch. That reminds me. I better contact the Storm-Riders. I haven't sent them any letters since I told them I needed some personal time to recover from my injuries." Grapes nodded, then screeched to a halt, a perturbed look on her face. She then spun around and stared at Stormfront.
"You consider ME a friend?"
"Well... Yes. You're certainly not my enemy. You've been fair and never pressured me despite your suspicions. You probably could have let me continue to go on just working the Vineyard but instead you encouraged me to face my problem, even you did it by appealing to my... well... Pegasi Pride. If that's not friendship then maybe it needs to be redefined." She tilted her head.
"Huh... Never thought about it that way. I've never really had a friend, before," Grapes mused.
"Really? Well if it's all right with you I'd like to be the first," Stormfront said with a smile.
"Thank you," Grapes uttered, still sounding surprised. "Uhm... I should get back to work. Excuse me."
"Of course," he said before turning back to the task at hand. Grapes went to check on the others, giving them a bit of rare praise, before checking on the hapless Thistledown.
"I'm afraid you're not going to have the bits to take a night on the town, Thistle," Grapes said honestly. "But you're doing good work, here. When you get our mind out of the clouds and/or gutter, you do very well."
"Yes, Miss Grapes," Thistledown responded around the handle of the shovel. He had been doing hard work shoveling the leavings into the compost wagon. No doubt mostly from fear of being fired, or being kicked and/or horn-poked to death by an angry filly.
"If you've checked the weather schedule, you may discover that you not going into town, tonight, may not be such a bad thing," Grapes added. "Perhaps a touch of schadenfreude for you, tomorrow morning. Keep up the good work." The day went normally enough. Grapes made sure that Thistledown worked out the kinks, and stretch out his muscles, before dinner. "Trust me. You want to do this, unless you want to be stiff and miserable, tomorrow." All of the ponies were apparently feeling fairly good, despite the scare earlier they got a lot of work done and no doubt would enjoy their bits on the weekend. She noticed Stormfront heading into the bunkhouse right after weigh-in.
Sour Grapes sighed, and headed to the bunkhouse kitchen, to fix something a little bit different for dinner. The unicorn filly then went around to the rooms, knocking to call everypony to dinner. She hadn't quite realized how few ponies were left from the original batch. The expression 'best of a bad lot' came to mind, perhaps a little unfairly, but still there it was. She knocked on Stormfront's door and it swung open easily revealing something she never thought she'd see in her life. There was Stormfront, bent slightly around nuzzling and nibbling at his wings like she had seen ducks doing down at the pond. It was so... ludicrous and cute to see a full-grown pegasi ... PREENING like that. Grapes stepped away from his room, and had to crouch to cover her mouth to keep from laughing out loud. It made sense that he would preen. Just about everything that had feathers had to do so, but to see a Stormy doing it made him look so... CUTE! Something that just stood out from his strong build and nearly regal wings. She risked another glance and he was working the other wing over. No doubt it had been driving him crazy to keep them lashed down all this time and he was making up for lost time. She finally regained control of herself, and knocked on his door.
He was still bent at an awkward angle, peeking up over his own torso to look at her. "Oh Grapes! Hi. What brings you to my door?"
"Dinner," Grapes replied, still smiling a bit at the vision of preening she'd seen.
"Oh great," Stormy chirped before burying his nose into his wing again. "Be right there in a minute. Just... some feathers refuse to cooperate. It's like bed-mane, you know?"
"Need a hoof?" Grapes asked, trying to be helpful,though she didn't really know what she could do.
"Nah I'm good... I can't tell you how good it feels to stop, well, hiding these things. I'm not sure I really was hiding them from you or the others but really," Stormfront gave them a firm shake, causing a stiff breeze to surge into the hallway. "Well keeping them hidden from me. I think I wanted to forget I was a Pegasus for a while."
"Ah. Well you'll be more comfortable, at least," Grapes mused, as she watched the gray pony settle his feathers.
"Oh DEFINITELY!" he laughed folding his wings against his flanks and trotting merrily over to her. "What's for dinner tonight?"
"Barley stew."
"Nice! Just like mom used to make," Stormy said obviously happy at the prospect, as they made their way to the more common area of the bunkhouse.
"Hope you all like it... Looks like some of the others have already snuck out... We've got Thistledown here, though, for a change," Grapes said sounding a touch annoyed with the wayward farmhooves.
"That should be interesting..." he paused and giggled "that was a rude thing he said but still... kinda funny. I never would have thought to apply the concept to the fruit we were picking."
"It's a variation of 'apple polisher'. Another way of saying brown-muzzler."
"I know what he meant. But that doesn't mean it wasn't clever. If he only would use his talent for good instead of mischief," Stormfront said with a shrug. "Hopefully you helped him to realize having a smart mouth doesn't mean you have to open it all the time."
"I hope so. But he may get the last laugh. We've got rain scheduled, tomorrow afternoon, so we have to get up early," Grapes mused, chuckling, herself, at the eventual misfortune of her workers.
"Good thing I was preening then. It helps waterproof my plumage," the pegasus said sagely.
"We'll have to stop anyway. Vines are slippery, and it gets muddy," Grapes explained. "Not that I'm above getting my hooves dirty, but it's still a safety hazard. Never mind the health concerns."
"I doubt many of the crew brought rainwear with them," Stormy observed wryly.
"Nope. That shortsightedness is often a problem."
"I don't really need a rain coat. Most pegasi when properly groomed are waterproof. We may need one for flying through rain and clouds, but I bought a rain coat just to get into the spirit of, well, looking like an Earth Pony," Stormy said, grinning sheepishly.
"I can appreciate you're getting into the spirit of things," Grapes chuckled.
"Do you have any writing materials? I got a few letters I have to write, after dinner," Stormfront asked.
"Of course," Grapes replied.
===================================================
Long after dinner, and after the house, and bunkhouse had settled, Grapes was sitting in her room, thinking over the events of the day. She, Sour Grapes, one of the most asocial ponies in Ponyville, had somepony who called her a 'friend'. She felt it was a momentous occasion, but didn't know quite how to commemorate it. Then she remembered something that Applejack had told her about. Twilight Sparkle was often writing to Princess Celestia about her adventures in Ponyville, and the lessons she learned from them. "Friendship Reports," Applejack called them. Grapes chuckled, pulling out a piece of parchment, and an ordinary envelope. She sat at her desk, after settling her stationary, so she could write. Grapes then dipped her Stormy-feather quill into the ink, carefully filled out the address, and return address, then began to write the letter itself.
"Dear Princess Celestia..."