The sky was as bleak as ever now, but Pinkamena refused to let the weather dampen her high spirits. Seeing her grandmother gave her a new source of energy, and she expressed it by wiggling excitedly in Granny Pie’s hooves and wagging her puffy pink tail like a joyful animal.
“Settle down, child.” She smiled and placed the enthusiastic young pony on the ground, “I wouldn’t want to drop you on your squishy little head!” As if to demonstrate, Granny Pie grabbed Pinkamena’s cheeks and squished them together gently, making her giggle.
“You’re so fun, Granny.” She sighed contentedly. With her spirits renewed, she decided to keep on continuing her short journey into the young Ponyville, now in her sights. She called to her grandmother to follow her before bouncing away back into the rain in the direction of the town. Very confused, Granny Pie stretched out her tired wings and flew as quickly as the aching wind would take her, cutting off Pinkamena in mid-bounce and causing the dust underneath her to kick up into the air. One particular light purple Pegasus with a vivid rainbow mane caught a face full of brown dirt and he spat it out, glaring at the pair before returning to work on the clouds.
“What’s wrong?” The innocent filly inquired. Now getting wet again, Pinkamena’s mane started to drip into her eyes. She quickly attempted to shake the water out, seemingly unaware of the weather around her, but the rain wasn’t faltering and simply refilled the pink mess of hair. Granny Pie only shook her head at the bizarre behaviour.
“Why are you walking alone?” She asked, answering Pinkamena’s question with another. The filly only shrugged and muttered a reply under her breath, still not allowing her smile to disappear. Granny Pie frowned at the sight. “This isn’t like you, Pinkamena,” She lectured, “You need to go back home.”
“I can’t, Granny! I need to make other ponies happy.” Pinkamena pleaded, “I can’t do that at the farm!” Granny began to protest, but Pinkamena cut her off. “It’s not fair; they won’t let me do anything except to chip away at rocks. It was so sad there Granny until I made it happy, I need to show Equestria my talent. It’s my destiny!” Granny Pie only rolled her eyes at her granddaughter’s statement. In pony society, one’s destiny was a cherished thing; you simply could not just shrug off what was written in the stars and branded on your butt. It was considered to be the ultimate failure if one did not live up to their cutie mark; the entirety of Equestria rested on the small, seemingly insignificant talents of the citizens. Granny Pie, being the happy-go-lucky mare that she was, thought that this notion was ridiculous.
“No, Pinkamena. What’s wrong with you? You’ve gained some balloons on your flank, and suddenly you think that it’s okay to pack up and leave!” She exasperated. “What about your responsibilities on the rock farm?”
“They lie elsewhere now.” Pinkamena stated matter-of-factly. That particular statement struck Granny Pie as incredibly odd. Pinkamena had never acted in this fashion before. She asked her if she was feeling alright, but Pinkamena nodded enthusiastically. Clearly, her physical health wasn’t the problem.
“You’re acting completely different from the Pinkamena I know. You’re…” She paused for a fairly long time thinking of a word. “Happier.” Pinkamena grinned in reply and went on a tangent about rainbows and parties as the rain continued to envelop the two in a damp, opaque mist. Her attitude was a stark contrast to the cruel, unfeeling world going on around her.
“You’re not Pinkamena anymore.” Granny Pie reached her conclusion. The pink filly frowned and, confused, asked what she meant.
“You’re not Pinkamena anymore. You’re more playful, bouncier, more excitable... the Pinkamena I know wasn’t so enthusiastic about everything. And she would never,” Granny Pie cast a glance at a large crumbling silo in the distance, “leave the rock farm for the outside world.”
The two paused, deep in thought. Pinkamena contemplated what her grandmother had said. No matter her actions, she knew it was true; the old, pre-cutie mark Pinkamena would never have been so spontaneous and irrational in her decisions, especially on an issue as serious as running away from her family in order to “fulfil her destiny”. She would probably be punished somehow. Pinkamena frowned. She had never been punished before; she was a perfect, sad little angel. She always had been, up until she found her “special talent”.
Suddenly, she noticed that Granny Pie had begun to speak to her, and she was forced to snap back to reality.
“Sorry, what was that?” She apologised as she kicked a loose rock out from underneath her hoof.
“I’m not quite sure why you’re acting this way,” Granny Pie spoke, her voice faltering slightly; she couldn’t call her Pinkamena anymore. “But I think this new you deserves a nickname.” She smiled kindly whilst patting “Pinkie” on the head, “It sounds more fitting for the fun-loving little pony that you’ve turned out to be.”
“Oh,” The pink filly smiled, “So, can I call you something different, too?"
"I think just 'Granny' is fine for now." She laughed and playfully nudged Pinkie in the arm.
"I thought you were bringing me back home. You’re not, are you?” Pinkie broke the happy atmosphere as her ears flopped down, expressing the scattered emotions and thoughts rolling around in her brain. She turned towards the mountains upon mountains of filthy rocks behind them, scattered across the desolate plains. The clouds were black as the night sky surrounding them, still pouring with their life-giving water. It would not be life-giving in this barren region. Granny Pie sighed at the wasted water, pouring down around them. Why is it that these weather pegasi decide to let it rain in this area? They know that it won’t bring the long-dead flowers and trees back to life. Still, week after week, they continue their futile efforts to breathe life back into the wastelands of Ponyville’s outskirts. She couldn’t let her granddaughter stay here; besides, it’d be too dangerous to head back now. The rain blocks the senses, and there could be timber wolves or manticores on the prowl. The two would not spot them until it was too late. The safest thing to do, she decided, would be to bring Pinkie with her to Ponyville to stay the night. Granny Pie squinted to see the soft glow of the town in between the bucketing rain. It couldn’t be further than a few gallops away.
"Not for now."
The night was still young as the happy pair ran into the borders of early Ponyville, Granny Pie's wing hovering over the dripping Pinkie Pie to keep her warm. The golden aura grew as the two drew closer, eventually revealing their true shape as lit lanterns hanging on wooden stilts. The ground underneath their hooves turned from mud to rock as they stepped onto a delicately-made cobblestone pathway. They walked along the road slowly and deliberately, quietly searching for a motel or another pony in the night to ask for directions. The clouds above them grew thinner and thinner as they walked further and further into the centre of Ponyville, and Granny Pie was grateful for the depleting rainfall. She ruffled her wing that was shielding her granddaughter from the weather and folded it against her back, allowing the cramped muscles to relax.
It's so different, Pinkie Pie thought to herself as she turned her head rapidly from left and right, taking in the unfamiliar surroundings with wide eyes and a pondering mind. So much to do, so much to see… so much fun to be had.
Next to the excited filly, Granny Pie stared down at her hooves, deep in thought. She knew that she couldn't take the small earth pony to her home in Cloudsdale, and the weather behind them was too harsh to go back the way they came; she had no choice but to look for a temporary lodge here. They explored Ponyville together as they continued to look for a place to rest.
With the sky above Ponyville now free of cloud cover, the pale moon shone down unblocked by the weather. The mysterious face of a mare imprinted on the natural satellite stared down at the world below, dejected and companionless in the lonely night.