Twilight Sparkle blew a strand of hair away from her face. How could this have happened? She was meticulous—some might even say obsessive—about planning her daily schedule out. She had contingencies and backup plans, and backup plans for her contingencies, and contingencies for her backup plans. Each of them were painstakingly arranged and double-, triple-, and on some of her better days quadruple-checked so that she would know precisely what to do with any given moment. If somepony asked Twilight what she was doing on the twenty first of June three years from now, she had a scroll that not only told her what she planned to do then, but three other possibilities she might be doing if the first did not happen.
Yet somehow, by some impossible collapse in the very concept of organization itself, Twilight found herself with absolutely nothing to do. Her checklist for the day was utterly blank. Well, okay, it still contained the bare essentials of daily routine—eat meals, brush teeth, go to bed—but there was no content to her day whatsoever. Huge chunks of time were occupied by nothing but an eerie void. The blank spaces on her schedule heralded the coming of the Day that Time Forgot.
Originally, Twilight had been scheduled for a morning brunch with Rarity, and the rest of the day teaching Pinkie Pie proper operation and safety procedures for the hot air balloon. If Pinkie was going to keep “borrowing” it, Twilight wanted to make certain she was at least using the balloon correctly. But Rarity had come down with a cold and had to cancel, and the magical heating element, which had been sent off to get serviced a week ago, still had not come back from the shop, leaving her with no balloon with which to teach Pinkie balloon safety. Somehow, a hole in Twilight's redundant backup plans had left her with no fallback for the day, so here she sat, staring at her schedule and willing something to spontaneously appear on it.
She couldn't just pick up a book to read. She had a very specific reading list lined out for herself, arranged so that every book she read would be seasonally and situationally appropriate when she read it. If she read a book out of sequence, it would throw off the whole system and she would end up reading books about Nightmare Night during Hearth's Warming. She could not justifiably spend the day cleaning or reorganizing the shelves. That was scheduled for next Tuesday, and if she did it today she would just leave herself in the same predicament next week.
Twilight Sparkle could feel the ends of her mane begin to fray. Her eyelid twitched, and her foreleg began itching. She had nothing to do, and it was driving her crazy.
Her ear twitched as she heard a hoof knock against the door to her library. “Come in,” she called. Technically, the library was closed today, but perhaps she could at least pass some time helping somepony find a book. The door slowly opened to allow a droopy pink mane and yellow wings inside. “Fluttershy!” Twilight said, getting up from her seat. “What can I do for you?”
Fluttershy gave her a small smile. She had a pair of saddlebags strapped across her back, slung low so as not to interfere with her wings. A canteen of water poked out of one of the bags, while a field journal and a few pencils were visible beneath the flaps of the other. She looked prepared for a day's journey. “Hello, Twilight,” she said. “I was wondering if you had any maps of the Blackhoof Mountains.”
“Of course!” Twilight trotted over to the shelf dedicated to maps and atlases. “Are you going for a hike?” she asked as she ran her hoof across the rows of geography references.
Fluttershy shifted the weight of her saddlebags. “Oh, well, sort of. I was going to call it an expedition, really, but if you want to call it a hike, that's fine.”
“Blackhoof... Blackhoof...” Twilight murmured to herself as she searched. “Aha! Here it is.” Her horn glowed as she levitated a large folded piece of parchment out from between a pair of heavy atlases. She had to shake it a few times to get the dust off of it. “An expedition, you say? That sounds pretty adventurous. What's in the Blackhoof Mountains?”
Fluttershy came forward to peer over Twilight's shoulder as she flattened the map on the table. “Oh, um, probably nothing. Or, I mean, I'm sure there's lots of nice things there, but what I'm looking for might not be there. It's just a rumor, after all.”
“What's just a rumor?” Twilight's ears perked forward as she listened to her friend.
Fluttershy spoke, as always, with her usual softness, but her voice carried a subtle tone of excitement. “I heard from somepony that there might be a Wendersnaven living there.”
“A Wendersnaven?” echoed Twilight. “What's that?”
The pegasus' yellow wings raised in the air as she rubbed her forehooves together. “You mean you've never heard of a Wendersnaven?”
Twilight shook her head. “I can't say that I have.”
“A Wendersnaven is a mythical creature,” explained Fluttershy. “Some say it looks like a bird with two heads and feathers of every color of the rainbow. Others believe it looks like a cat with zebra stripes and sparkling jewels for eyes. I've heard of one pony who thinks it looks like a turtle carrying a tiny castle on its back!”
Twilight quirked her eyebrows. “How is that possible?” she asked.
“Oh, well, you see, nopony's ever actually seen a Wendersnaven before, so nopony knows what it really looks like.” Fluttershy turned her attention to the map.
“So, if nopony has ever seen one before, how do you know it exists?”
“Hm?” The pegasus traced her hoof along the topography lines on the parchment. “Oh, you know, ponies hear it calling at night, they find tracks in the dirt, that kind of thing.”
Twilight rubbed her chin with her hoof. “So, this is a new, completely undocumented species, and you think it's living in the Blackhoof range?”
“Yes,” Fluttershy said excitedly. She cleared her throat and folded her wings. “I mean, um, probably,” she retracted in a more tempered tone. “I have it from a pretty reliable source, so I think there's a good chance I can find it there.”
The librarian chewed her lip. “Do you think you could use any help?”
Fluttershy raised her eyes to Twilight. “That's very kind of you to offer, Twilight, and I probably could use some help, but you don't have to if you don't want to. It will take all day to get to the mountains and back, and I'm sure you're very busy.”
“Actually,” Twilight said, “I'm not busy at all! I would love to come with you, if you'll let me. This could be a chance for a significant scientific discovery!”
Fluttershy hid behind her mane. “I don't want to be a bother...”
Twilight hit her with a pair of big, pleading eyes. “Please?”
A grin slowly spread across Fluttershy's muzzle. “Okay, Twilight. If you want to come with, of course you can.”
“Yes!” Twilight made a tiny leap of joy. “Thank you, Fluttershy! I promise I won't slow you down!”
Fluttershy shook her head. “Of course you won't, Twilight. Um, why don't you start packing your saddlebags while I look at the map?”
Twilight nodded. “Yes, good idea.” She skipped up the stairs to her room and began digging through her closet for her gear. Most of it had not been touched much since the day Princess Celestia had sent the six of them to convince that dragon to take his nap on another mountain. Though Twilight and her friends were no strangers to adventure, more often than not such adventures caught them without any time to prepare and equip themselves. For a certain period of time, Twilight had resolved never to leave the library without a canteen, compass and a length of rope just in case some kind of implacable threat to Equestria required that she drop everything and gallop off into the wilderness to stop it. However, she ultimately found that it was inconvenient and raised too many awkward questions to walk about town with enough supplies for a week-long trek into the Everfree.
Twilight took time to rub a scuff-mark off of her compass as her mind wandered back to her journey up the dragon's mountain with Fluttershy and the girls. She could remember the look of disbelief on her friends' faces, which she was certain she had shared, as Fluttershy had overcome her fears and faced down the dragon on her own. The mare was so much more confident today than the pegasus she had been when they had first met, hardly able to tell Twilight her name.
“Do you want me to pack a few sandwiches, Fluttershy?” Twilight asked as she stepped out of her bedroom.
Fluttershy looked up from the map. “That’s a wonderful idea,” she replied. “We will be out all day, so a picnic would be very nice.”
The unicorn was not especially adept at cooking, but barleybutter and jam sandwiches were not especially difficult to make. It only took a few minutes of slicing bread and spreading jam before she had a pair of sandwiches wrapped in wax paper and packed securely in her saddlebags.
Her supplies all prepared, Twilight took the chance to peer over her friend's shoulder. Fluttershy smiled and placed a hoof on the map. “This is where we want to go,” she said, indicating a compact little valley just beyond the first major ridge line of the mountain range. “It has a stream of fresh water for the Wendersnaven to drink, plenty of tall grass and underbrush for it to hide in, rocks for it to climb on, and flowers for it to eat. If there is a Wendersnaven in the mountains, it will be here.”
Twilight blinked. “Are you sure it eats flowers?”
“Why wouldn't it eat flowers?” Fluttershy said, folding the map and placing it carefully into her saddlebag. “They're pretty, and delicious, and good for you.”
Twilight was not sure this was entirely sound reasoning, but Fluttershy was the wildlife expert here, not her, so she deferred to the pegasus' wisdom. “All right, is there anything else we need before setting off?”
Fluttershy thought for a moment before shaking her head. “I don't think so. We should get going, or it will be dark by the time we get back.” She took a few steps toward the door, but stopped and turned her head to give Twilight a sweet look. “Thank you for deciding to come with me, Twilight. I didn't want to say anything, but I was a little worried I might get lonely going out there by myself.”
Twilight grinned back at her, and pushed the door open with her magic. “It's my pleasure, Fluttershy. Truth be told, I was thinking I was going to have an awfully dull day before you came by!”
*-*-*
The Blackhoof mountain range was itself not terribly far from Ponyville. It was only a few miles along a well-kept country path before the foothills began rising around them. Quaint farmhouses dotted the surrounding countryside at first, to be replaced by a sparse scattering of small cabins and summer cottages as they began to climb above the more arable soil. Gentle green slopes were crossed with gurgling brooks and shaded by groves of aspen and elm trees.
As they ventured further from Ponyville, the earthy scent of wheat on the breeze gave way to the smell of wild timothy grass. For the first few miles, Twilight tried to identify each new wildflower and species of flora they passed, as she had read a book on the taxonomy of plant life only a week prior. However, she eventually had to give up on the endeavor and resign herself to merely enjoying the scenery; the diversity was simply too great for even her keen mind to classify.
While they met very few ponies on the road, Twilight and Fluttershy did not lack for company. It seemed that for every bend in the path there was a meadow lark or a blue jay or a sparrow whistling a bright tune from the branch of a berry bush or the hollow of a tree. Fluttershy would call out to each of them, and before long the two ponies had gathered a whole flock of songbirds in their wake, chirping and singing merrily to them as the road wound its way higher towards the gray peaks above.
Twilight couldn't help but giggle as a yellow finch landed on her nose. “You know,” she said, wrinkling her snout, “we'll probably scare the Wendersnaven off if we arrive with a whole chirping menagerie at our backs.” The finch tweeted cheerfully and began preening its feathers.
Fluttershy held her wing extended to provide a perch for several birds at a time. “You're probably right, but we don't need to worry about that,” she said. “They won't follow us the whole way there. They all have their own homes to get back to.” Fluttershy smiled as a lark nestled into her mane. “You all just want to say hello, don't you?”
True to Fluttershy's word, the flock slowly dispersed one by one as the trail became narrower and steeper. Where earlier the path had consisted of long, easy curves, now it began to make jagged switchbacks over steep inclines and around large boulders. Soon the final blue jay chirped its goodbye as the two ponies struggled against the increasingly difficult terrain. The leafy deciduous trees around them became spiny firs and pines, and the breeze began to carry the rugged musk of pine sap.
Twilight wiped some sweat from her brow, panting. She silently resolved to get out of the library more often. Part of her discomfort was due to the thinner air, she knew, but it still couldn't hurt to get a bit more exercise. Looking up, she could see Fluttershy was having as much trouble as she was. Twilight wet her lips and cleared her throat. “Do you—hah—want to take a break?” she panted.
Fluttershy shook her head. “Just a... just a little further... We'll be over this ridge... in just a few more steps.” Twilight nearly ran into her friend as she suddenly stopped. “Oh, no,” the yellow mare squeaked.
Twilight lifted her head to see past Fluttershy. The trail ended suddenly, dropping off the edge of a sharp cliff.
Fluttershy's wings sagged. She dug the map out of her saddlebag, unfolding and frowning at it. “There was supposed to be a bridge here.” She turned the map over in her hooves. “I don't... I don't understand.”
Twilight peered out across the gorge. There was a wide empty expanse between themselves and the other side. “I think there was a bridge once,” she said, levitating her canteen out. She pointed across to the far end of the gorge. A faint trace of the trail picked back up, marked by a dangling rope and a collapsed pile of rubble. The wind howled through the void in between.
“Oh.” Fluttershy swallowed loudly. She scooted her hooves in the dust, shrinking back from the precipice. She squeezed her eyes shut and for a moment, she began to turn back. But then something shifted in her expression. Fluttershy opened her eyes and turned to face the chasm, squaring her jaw. She folded the map and returned it to her saddlebag. Her wings spread wide, she took a running start and launched herself into the air.
“Fluttershy, wait!” shouted Twilight, reaching out too late to stop her friend. “Where are you going?”
Fluttershy hovered in midair, wobbling a bit in the cross-breezes of the canyon. A look of confusion crossed her muzzle. “What's wrong, Twilight?” she asked. “I just thought that since I can fly and you can teleport, I could just meet you on the other side.”
Twilight took a look across the gorge and shook her head. “I can't teleport across. It's too far.”
“Too far? But I thought—” A stiff gust of wind threw her out of position momentarily, and Fluttershy had to fight against the wind to get back. She landed back on the trail. “But Twilight, I've seen you teleport that far before.”
“Yes, in emergencies,” explained Twilight. “But the farther I go, the less accurate it is. If I tried to teleport this distance, I would have a—” she took a moment to do the math in her head. “—a fifty five percent chance of coming up short.” Twilight peered down at the sharp rocks far below. “That would be bad.”
Fluttershy's ears folded back. “Yes, it would. I'm sorry, Twilight.” Her eyes were downcast, and she sniffled.
Twilight put a comforting hoof on her friend's back. “It's okay, Fluttershy. We can come back some other time with more ponies and tools so we can fix the bridge.” She shrugged her saddlebags off. “For now, maybe we can just have our sandwiches here before we head back. Does that sound good?”
The pegasus did not answer. Her eyes followed a few puffy white clouds as the late morning breeze pushed them across the sky. After a minute of silence, Fluttershy spread her wings again. “I'll be right back, Twilight,” she said, taking off into the air a second time. “Stay right there, please!” she called as she disappeared into the sky.
Without a chance to reply, Twilight sat on her haunches, a perplexed look on her face. Shrugging, she took a draw from her canteen and took the opportunity to admire the view her perch afforded her. She could see Ponyville far below, nearly hidden from view by the green hills and forests that surrounded it. Beyond Ponyville, Mount Canterlot rose above the countryside, a spire of stone jutting up from the flat lowlands. If she squinted, she could make out the outline of the royal palace clinging to the side of the mountain in defiance of gravity and sound engineering principles. The bellow of some wild mountain creature echoed from the distance.
The sound of fluttering wings drew Twilight's attention back to the present. She turned to see Fluttershy proudly pushing a fluffy white cloud up to the cliff face. The pegasus dragged the condensed vapor as close as she dared without risking the solid ground dispersing it. Gasping for breath, she landed on the trailhead and gave Twilight a bright grin. “There,” she said, pointing to the cloud. “You can... cast your... cloudwalking spell... and then I can... push you across,” she panted.
Twilight looked at the cloud. “That's actually a very good idea,” she said. “I think it should work.” She levitated her canteen over to her friend. “But before you push me anywhere, Fluttershy, you're going to sit down and take a rest. You look exhausted!”
Fluttershy smiled gratefully and took a sip of water. The two mares sat together, taking in the view. Every couple of minutes Fluttershy got up to make sure the cloud hadn't blown away in the wind, but otherwise they had a restful time. After ten or fifteen minutes, they were ready to get moving again, so Twilight cast her cloudwalking spell on herself and climbed onto Fluttershy's cloud.
As it turned out, going across the gorge on a cloud was trickier than it sounded. The whistling winds constantly sheared bits of the cloud away and buffeted the two ponies about as Fluttershy struggled to push Twilight across.
“Higher,” Twilight called, having to shout to be heard over the churning air. The cloud blocked Fluttershy’s view of their destination, so Twilight had to navigate for them. “A little to the left—woah!” She gripped the spongy white mass with her hooves as a sudden gust threatened to tip the whole thing over.
A yellow hoof shot out to steady her. “Twilight!” Fluttershy’s voice barely carried over the din. “Are you okay?”
Twilight turned to give her friend a reassuring grin. “I’m fine,” she said, shifting her weight so that she was better centered on the cloud. Her hooves kept slipping through as little white tufts tore away from the makeshift vehicle.
The unicorn raised her eyes to the steadily approaching cliffside. “Keep going,” she said, “we’re almost there!”
Fluttershy did not respond, or if she did, the wind tore her response away. Her wingbeats were erratic, and fatigue was scrawled across her face. So much of the cloud had disappeared at this point that she may as well just have carried Twilight in her forelegs for all the support it provided now. They were slowly losing altitude relative to the trailhead before them.
Twilight ignited her horn. A magenta wall of force appeared upwind of them. Her magic was not precise enough to be airtight, so it did not block all of the wind, but it deflected some of it. She concentrated harder, and formed two more walls, funneling the deflected wind behind them. With a cry of surprise from Fluttershy, the blast of air sent the two ponies and what was left of the cloud the remaining few feet to land safely on solid ground once again.
The both of them lay on the ground panting. The wispy remains of the cloud diffused away. Twilight raised a hoof in the air. “Next time,” she gasped, “next time, I vote we wait for the bridge to get fixed.” Fluttershy’s wheezes seemed to agree.
It took some time before Twilight bothered trying to stand. She groaned as she saw Fluttershy shakily push herself to her hooves and forge on down the trail.
“Fluttershy, what has gotten into you?” Twilight called after her.
The yellow pegasus stopped and looked back. Her face was a strange mix of nervousness and something else—Twilight couldn't be sure, but it looked almost like excitement, like a filly on the day before her birthday. “Oh, I'm sorry, Twilight,” she said, trotting back to her. “I'm just very anxious to find out if...” she paused to catch her breath. She was just as winded as Twilight—probably more, since she had been doing the heavy lifting to get across the gorge—but she was clearly eager to press on. “...if there's really a Wendersnaven here,” she finished. “I would really like to see one. I think it’d be a wonderful thing.”
Twilight smiled. While it was unusual to see her friend this driven, it was no great surprise that the prospect of a new creature to cuddle with would be enough to motivate her. The shy pony's incredible capacity for affection was one of the things Twilight liked most about her. “I'd like to see a Wendersnaven too,” she said, “but right now, I think I'd like a couple more lungfuls of air.”
Fluttershy nodded and placed a wing on the unicorn's back. “If you try and breathe from your stomach instead of your chest, you'll get more air,” she advised.
Twilight took a few deep breaths, pushing her diaphragm inwards and outwards in a deliberate rhythm. After a couple moments, her chest did not ache quite so badly from the thin air. “Thanks,” she said, smiling gratefully. “Where did you learn that?”
“I grew up in Cloudsdale,” she replied, her own lips sliding up sweetly. “Almost every pegasus pony knows how to deal with high altitudes.”
“That makes sense,” said Twilight. She adjusted the strap on her saddlebags and took a look at the trail ahead. The dirt path was rapidly becoming narrower, at points disappearing completely beneath patches of scrub. “How much further until we reach the valley?”
Fluttershy pulled the map out of her pack and the two of them looked at it. Her yellow hoof traced the winding line that represented the trail they were on. “The path ends before too long,” she said. “After that, we'll have to cut across this way on our own. The valley is just over this ridge here,” she pointed to a cluster of topography markers. “We should make it there maybe an hour after noon.”
Twilight raised an eyebrow. “We're going cross-country?”
“Only for a mile or so,” Fluttershy said, folding the map. “We have compasses, and you can see Mount Canterlot from almost anywhere in these mountains, so we won't get lost. Probably.” Twilight was sure her expression conveyed something less than reassurance. Fluttershy smiled. “We're looking for something nopony has ever seen,” she reminded her. “It won't be hiding right next to the trail.”
Twilight did not like the prospect of abandoning the established trail, but no great things were ever accomplished without going a little out of somepony's comfort zone. Twilight nodded. “You're right, Fluttershy. Let's get moving.”
Twilight began down the trail, but stopped as she noticed her friend was still rooted in place. A sudden look of panic flickered across the pegasus' face. “I-I'm not pushing you too hard, am I?” Fluttershy asked. “It's not that important, we can rest longer if you want.”
“No,” Twilight said, shaking her head. “You aren't pushing me too hard. I'm just a little surprised, is all; you're not usually this gung-ho about anything.”
“Oh,” said Fluttershy, casting her eyes towards the ground. “I'm sorry.”
Twilight backed up the trail to put a reassuring hoof on her yellow withers. “It's not a bad thing. I understand that you're excited. Honestly, I am too. So let's keep walking; the sooner we get there, the more time we'll have to look for our mysterious new friend.” A sharp growl rumbled from the unicorn's stomach. She blushed and giggled. “Also, more time to eat our sandwiches. I don't know about you, but I'm starting to get hungry!”
Fluttershy smiled and nodded quietly. “Me too,” she said.
“Well then,” Twilight adopted a terrible impression of a famous explorer's Sidneigh accent as she nudged her friend forward. “Ally-oop, Miss Shy! We've trails to blaze and creatures to track!”
The last of the trail quickly petered out beneath their trotting hooves. It took Twilight some time to recall what she had learned from the book on orienteering she had read the previous summer, but being able to see Mount Canterlot proved a useful backup when the two of them were not certain they were reading their compasses right.
“This way,” Twilight said, looking up from her compass.
“Um,” Fluttershy bit her lip, “but that’s the way we just came from.”
Twilight blinked. “Are you sure?” She re-checked her compass, rotating the map beneath it to try and match the lines to the needle. It seemed like every time she almost got it lined up, north would shift again.
“You can see our hoofprints in the dirt,” Fluttershy said, gesturing to the ground.
“Oh. Right.” Twilight’s ear flicked in annoyance as she fiddled with her compass. “Then what is wrong with this thing?” she said, shaking it.
Fluttershy stepped forward, giggling softly. “I think I might know what the problem is.” She took the map in her hooves and used her mouth to gently remove the metal paper clip that bound the pages together. “Now try it,” she said, tucking the clip into her mane.
Twilight planted a hoof in the center of her face. “Of course. Metal. Magnets. Celestia, I can be dense sometimes!”
Her friend shook her head. “Don’t say that, Twilight,” she reprimanded. “You’re the smartest pony I’ve ever met!”
“Thank you, but—”
“I mean it,” interrupted Fluttershy. Her wings flared in emphasis. “You’re clever, and organized, and good at getting ponies to do what they need to do, and you’re nice to everypony, and you’re pretty—” Her cheeks turned pink and she coughed into her hoof. “—pretty brave when you need to be. You aren’t dense, Twilight.” The pegasus’ turquoise eyes brimmed with earnestness.
A sincere smile found its way to Twilight’s lips. “Thank you, Fluttershy,” she said, and really meant it this time. She turned her attention to her compass, which, now that the paper clip no longer interfered with it, now worked properly. Twilight took a glance at the horizon, and marked a note. “Okay. This way.”
Once they got the hang of it, navigating the mountains without a path proved to be simpler than it sounded. Twilight habitually rechecked their position with the map and compass every few steps, and they made corrections to their direction of travel as they went. The risk of getting lost in the Blackhooves was not, it turned out, a problem.
Instead, the problem they encountered had scruffy orange fur, bat wings, and a poison stinger for a tail.
“A manticore,” Twilight whispered, peering over a rocky outcropping.
Fluttershy nodded, gulping. The creature sat on a small plateau, sweeping its gaze across the land below. Intermittently, the manticore would let out a harsh bellow that echoed off the ridgelines in the distance.
They could not continue without drawing its attention. If they could not find a way past, they may as well turn around now. Slowly, a plan formed in Twilight’s mind. It was perhaps not one of her better plans, and likely influenced more than a bit by the thin air. A grin spread across her face. “Well,” she said, “It's a good thing I've seen how an expert deals with manticores!” She winked at Fluttershy and stepped out from behind their hiding place.
“Wait,” whispered Fluttershy, “I don't think that's a good idea...”
“We all just need to be shown a little kindness, right?” Twilight said, trotting toward the beast's plateau.
“Well, yes, but—” Fluttershy was cut off by a loud roar. The manticore bared his teeth and raised his stinger menacingly.
“Hey there, buddy,” Twilight cooed, taking a step towards the monster. “Who's a good kitty? Who's a good kitty-cat?”
The manticore plodded forward on meaty paws bigger than Twilight's head. He snarled, and spread his leathery wings in a threatening display.
“Um... Twilight...” Fluttershy's voice shook.
“Who's a good kitty?” Twilight continued. “Is it you? Are you a good kitty?”
The manticore was now close enough for Twilight to see a maw large enough to swallow a good kitty whole. Two-inch fangs glinted in the daylight. Claws as long as Twilight's nose sprouted from the creature's padded feet.
A bead of sweat began to form on Twilight's brow. “Um... please tell me that you're a good kitty.”
“Twilight, run!” shrieked Fluttershy, pulling on her tail.
Twilight felt the wind brush her muzzle as a venomous stinger slammed into the ground where she had been moments ago. Though her brain was still scrambling to catch up with events, her legs were fortunately quick to act, sending her hurtling with Fluttershy across the rocky landscape.
“What...” Twilight panted as she galloped, “what happened to showing kindness?”
“That usually works,” responded Fluttershy, gasping, “but not when... it's manticore mating season!”
An angry bellow sounded entirely too close behind them, indicating that the manticore was chasing them, and, in all likelihood, faster than them.
“Mating season?!” Twilight nearly stumbled over a low bush as she ran.
“August the twenty-third to September the second,” said Fluttershy. “I tried to tell you, but...”
A high, rocky cliff rose to meet the two ponies. Twilight and Fluttershy skidded to a stop just inside the shadow of the towering wall of stone. “Who put this cliff here?” Twilight shouted in frustration.
The manticore slowed to a stop, apparently satisfied he had cornered the ponies. He licked his chops and began circling closer.
Twilight and Fluttershy put their backs to the cliff face. “Fluttershy...” said Twilight, “hold me.”
The yellow pegasus wrapped her forehooves around her friend. She pressed her muzzle against Twilight's neck and shook. “Twilight, I need to tell you something,” she said. “I lo—” Her next words were lost in a bright flash of light and the curiously unique noise time-space makes when it is folded like an accordion.
*-*-*
The north face of Horseshoe Summit, the tallest peak in the Blackhoof Range, was a quiet place. It did not have a stern, foreboding silence like that of the ruined castle in the Everfree, nor a stark sense of solitude like the mountain the girls had roused the dragon from, but rather, this mountain had a comfortable serenity. The wind whispered through the spiny leaves of the few shrubs stubborn enough to grow at such an altitude, accompanied intermittently by the soft 'clack, clack, clack' of a piece of gravel somewhere succumbing to the forces of gravity and erosion to begin its long tumble down the mountain to the green hills below.
It was a calm place. A peaceful place. It was a place where ponies of old might once have come to meditate on the nature of their world. It was not the sort of place one would expect two screaming mares to materialize out of thin air.
Two screaming mares materialized out of thin air. The air they materialized out of was a few feet above the ground, so immediately after appearing, they both fell. Loose scree slipped out from under their hooves, sending them both sliding down the steep slope of the mountain.
Dust billowed into the air as their sudden descent triggered a minor rockslide. Twilight held her hooves over her head and Fluttershy spread her wings defensively as bouncing stones tumbled down the mountainside with them.
After a span of time measured more in breaths taken between screams than in seconds or minutes, the slope beneath them leveled out, allowing their tumble to slow to a stop in a blessedly soft patch of leafy underbrush. Twilight coughed on the dust. “Fluttershy,” she said, raising her head to look for her yellow companion, “are you alright?”
The bush next to Twilight stirred. “I... I think so,” said the bush. A pink tail sprouted out of it, followed by a pair of yellow wings. “What happened?”
Twilight laid back on her leafy cushion, unwilling to move lest she feel the bruises her escape had earned her. “Remember how I said teleporting over a distance was only for emergencies? This was an emergency.”
“Ah.” Fluttershy was quiet for a while. “Um, were you aiming for here?”
Twilight shook her head, which gained her a few earfuls of twigs and sticks. “I wasn't really aiming for anywhere other than away from where we were.” She laid back for a minute before a giggle built up in her chest. Her sides began shaking with laughter that echoed off the gray spires around them. “...Mating season?” she snickered. “So, the manticore was...”
“No!” Fluttershy gasped. Through the leaves, Twilight could see her cheeks turn red. “No, nothing like that! Manticores just tend to get very territorial this time of year. I-I should have remembered to say something before we left.”
Twilight felt that perhaps she should be more upset about nearly becoming lunch for some manticore, and then subsequently nearly getting squashed in a landslide, but the truth of the matter was she was having an outstanding time, and she couldn't help it. The late summer sun warmed her nose and belly as she laid on her back. A few mountain songbirds whistled their tunes against the counter-melody of a churning brook nearby. A gentle breeze made the wildflowers dance with the tall stalks of grass in the valley she found herself in.
Blinking curiously, the unicorn rolled to her hooves. She winced as she did so; the serene beauty of the meadow did not, apparently, make her bruises disappear. “Hey, Fluttershy,” she said, “can I see the map for a minute?”
Fluttershy whimpered softly as she pulled the folded square of parchment out from under herself. Twilight took hold of it and her compass with her magic and began checking reference points. Her excitement grew as she did so. “I think we made it,” she squeaked to her companion. “This is the valley of the Wendersnaven!”
This brought Fluttershy to her hooves. She limped to peer over Twilight's shoulder at the map. Her wings began to stretch and flutter on their own accord. “You're right, we're here!” Both ponies danced about in excitement.
They took a few minutes to gather their things, which had thankfully stayed more or less intact during their fall, and set off across the valley to seek an appropriate vantage point for observation. After some searching, they settled in on a small hill overlooking a bend in the creek that ran through the valley. Fluttershy unrolled a blanket for the two of them to lie on while Twilight dug the sandwiches out of her pack.
“Uh, oh,” Twilight said, peering into the canvas pocket of the saddlebag.
“What's wrong, Twilight?” asked Fluttershy, gingerly brushing aside a lock of her mane.
Twilight levitated a bag full of the mangled remains of what had once been barleybutter and jelly sandwiches. “Our lunch got squashed.”
“Oh,” said Fluttershy, her ears falling a little. After glancing around her, however, her ears perked back up. “Well, there's lots of wildflowers here. We could graze, if you're okay with that.”
Twilight eyed the sweet bursts of color hungrily. Bright reds, deep blues, delicate violets, blazing oranges and soft yellows were visible all over the lush green valley. The flowers' sweet perfumes formed a heady mixture, threatening to overwhelm her with their richness. She gave a chuckle. “Are you sure the Wendersnaven won't mind? You did say it ate flowers.”
A mysterious grin crossed Fluttershy's face. “There are so many here, I'm sure it won't mind sharing a few with us.”
Twilight and her empty stomach needed no more encouragement than that. She set the ruined sandwiches and her pack aside on the blanket and soon had a mouthful of bluebells tickling her tongue. The little buds each popped with flavor as she bit into them. Across from her, Fluttershy munched contentedly on a cluster of daisies.
After satisfying her hunger with some of the most delicious flowers she had ever eaten, and lapping a few swallows of cool, fresh water from the stream, Twilight laid down on the blanket and let a blissful sigh escape her lips. For all the trouble it had been to get here, this felt very worth it.
A gentle hum of agreement came from the yellow pony next to her. Twilight grinned and scooted over until their sides were touching. She felt Fluttershy's wing hesitate a moment before settling to rest on her withers. “I just had a thought,” Twilight said, looking out across the valley. “If we don't know what a Wendersnaven looks like, how will we know when we see one?”
“Oh.” Fluttershy's turquoise eyes traced the blue ribbon of the creek as it wound across the meadow below them. “Well, I guess if we see something we've never seen before, that's probably it.”
Twilight nodded, and returned to her sentry. An hour passed, and then another. The two of them saw finches and sparrows and robins. They saw field mice and shrews. They saw a fox dart across the green landscape, and they spotted an otter splash across the stream below them. But they did not see anything they could call a Wendersnaven.
Somehow, Twilight couldn't bring herself to be very disappointed. Perhaps she did not get to broaden ponykind's knowledge of the natural world, but she did get to spend the afternoon basking in the sun and enjoying the company of the gentlest and kindest pony she knew. It certainly beat sulking in her room, wishing her schedule could rewrite itself.
After a while, Fluttershy cleared her throat. “Um, Twilight,” she said, “I have a confession to make.” There was the nervous edge in her tone Twilight had noticed earlier in the day.
Twilight swiveled her ears to face her friend. “What is it, Fluttershy? You know you can tell me anything.”
“Yes...” said Fluttershy quietly, “I do know that.”
Twilight tilted her head in confusion, but remained silent to let her shy friend speak.
Fluttershy swallowed. “Twilight, there, um, isn't such a thing as a Wendersnaven.”
Twilight smiled warmly. “Aw, just because we didn't find it today doesn't mean there's no such thing. When we get back to Ponyville, we'll see if we can track down rumors of any other places it might live.”
“No,” said Fluttershy, shaking her head. “That's not what I meant. There's no rumors, Twilight, I... I made it up.”
Twilight blinked. “You... you made what up?”
Fluttershy dropped her eyes to the ground guiltily. “The Wendersnaven. I made it all up.”
It took Twilight a while to process this. Her friend had been so driven to find this Wendersnaven. After pushing so hard to get here, now she was telling Twilight there was never any such thing? At length, she finally asked, “Why?”
The pegasus appeared to be on the verge of tears. “Because I wanted...” Her wing shifted on Twilight's back. “I wanted this,” she said. “I wanted to spend time with you... just you, Twilight, without the others. I wanted to lay down with you in a meadow, like this, and just listen to the birds sing, like they are. I wanted to share some beautiful wildflowers with you, and watch the wild clouds cross the sky.”
Fluttershy squeezed her eyes and took a deep breath. Twilight could feel her shaking with fear. “And maybe...” Fluttershy continued, her cheeks flushing far redder than could be explained by the warm summer sun, “maybe if it went well enough, and if I could work up enough courage, I wanted to tell you—to tell you that...” her voice trailed off into incoherent squeaks and muttering.
Twilight remained very still, her only movements being to blink or to breathe. She felt a cool mountain breeze rustle through her coat. The brook beneath their hill babbled on incessantly. The lush smells of the greenery around her was accented by a hint of nervous sweat from the mare beside her.
After a few minutes, or perhaps a few hours, she could not judge which, Twilight leaned over to nuzzle her friend on the cheek. Fluttershy stopped trying to squeak out words and looked at her with wide teal eyes.
“I think I just spotted our Wendersnaven,” said Twilight, smiling.
“T-Twilight, there is no—” Fluttershy was interrupted by a lavender hoof placed gently on her lips.
“We were supposed to look for something we've never seen before,” explained Twilight. “I've never seen Equestria's kindest, gentlest pony take me into the mountains and tell me that she has feelings for me.”
Fluttershy's blush deepened. If Twilight did not know better, she might have been concerned the mare was suffering from heat stroke.
Twilight moved her head just slightly, letting her lips hover just beyond Fluttershy's muzzle. “You were right, Fluttershy,” she whispered, letting her breath dance on her friend's lips. “The Wendersnaven really is a marvelous thing to see.”
And then they kissed. It was not an especially long kiss; not a fierce, passionate thing the likes of which they had both read about in romance novels. It was not a kiss for which descriptions like 'burning desire' or 'sharp pangs of need' would have been appropriate. It was rather gentle, like a sip of warm tea. Their lips brushed against one another, sealed around each other to share their moist warmth, and then released with a quiet pop.
Twilight's eyes remained closed for a time. She could taste the sweet floral nectar on Fluttershy's breath from their lunch. She heard no sound from her friend. For a terrifying moment, she wondered if perhaps she had misinterpreted Fluttershy's intentions. If she had been leading up to something else, then Twilight had just embarrassed her timid friend beyond imagining.
But she felt a hoof wrap gently around her neck. Twilight opened her eyes to see Fluttershy smiling more broadly than it seemed her delicate cheeks could contain. Little beads of moisture rested in the corners of her eyes, having forgotten to form into tears. “Y-you mean...” Fluttershy whispered.
Twilight nodded, allowing Fluttershy's smile to become contagious and spread to her own face. “Yes,” she replied. “Yes, of course, Fluttershy!”
The way back down from the mountains was filled with quiet glances and excited giggles. They took the long way around to avoid running into the manticore again. This also meant they did not have to cross the gorge, either. A few miles of cross-country brought them to a gentle dirt trail that meandered through the mountains. The sun was beginning to set when they reached the foothills, so there were not so many songbirds to greet the ponies as they passed, but they did not lack for company. They kept step side by side, Fluttershy's wing resting easily on Twilight's withers as they followed the trail, which soon widened back into a path and then into a country road again.
The sky was deepening into the dark blue of night and the stars were beginning to slowly appear one by one when Twilight and Fluttershy finally reached Sweet Apple Acres, the farthest edge of what could still be called Ponyville. A firefly lantern bobbed among the apple trees, illuminating a flash of pink and a bit of orange. The pegasus and unicorn both slowed to peer curiously at their friends.
Applejack held the lantern at the end of a stick clamped in her teeth. She took it out and balanced it between her forelegs in order to speak. “I thought ya said ya knew what was stealin' my apples, Pinkie.”
Pinkie bounced happily at the edge of the lantern's light. “Yeppers! You're looking for a snipe!”
“A snipe?” Applejack raised her eyebrows.
“A snipe!” Pinkie confirmed. “It's like a bunny with antlers, or a yeti, only smaller and fluffier. Nopony's ever seen one, but everypony knows snipes love apples!”
“Uh huh.” Applejack's expression indicated she suspected snipes were pink and had balloons on their flanks.
Pinkie grinned broadly. “You're in luck, too! Because you happen to be talking to the best snipe-hunter this side of the Unicorn Range!”
The apple farmer frowned, unconvinced. “Yer the best at huntin' somethin' nopony's ever seen?” She paused to think. “Actually, that don't surprise me all that much. But how come we're out here in the dark? Shouldn't we be lookin' fer these snipes when it's light out an' we can see?”
Pinkie shook her head and giggled. “No, silly! Snipes only come out when it's dark! This is why you need an expert! Now, bring the lantern over here, I think I heard something!”
Twilight and Fluttershy shared a glance, and laughed softly as they continued on home.