“Manehatten!” yelled Eleanor.
Octavia slammed a suitcase shut and scowled at the distressed mare. “For the fifth time, Eleanor. Yes, Manehatten.”
Octavia turned her attention to the mirror and straightened her bow tie. Her fillyfriend sat on the bed with a handkerchief up to her nose.
“But, that’s clear across Equestria. You’ll be gone for weeks! Years! I’ll die alone!”
“Don’t be so dramatic, Eleanor,” said Octavia, rummaging through her things inside a drawer. “It will take me no more than three days to arrive, another to fine tune my cello, and finally another three days to return. You do the math, and it comes to a grand total of not years.”
“Well, it will feel like years to me,” said Eleanor. “Is there not one single pony in all of Canterlot that can tune a cello?”
Octavia paused from her scavenging. “Tune a cello? Yes. But fine tuning is what I require, sweet Eleanor. I know of only one pony whose can revive the liveliness of my cello and that pony is in Manehatten, not Canterlot.”
Eleanor stood up from the bed and walked over to Octavia. She wrapped her hooves around the gray pony’s neck and cast her a seductive glance.
“Tavi, honey. You are the best and most wonderful cellist in all of Equestria. Surely a normally tuned cello will suffice. Those gentle strokes from your wonderful hooves are what create the magic of your craft.”
“Eleanor, you wouldn’t know the first thing about playing a cello if it gave you music lessons.” Octavia broke free from her lover’s embrace and rushed to her closet to continue her search.
Eleanor crossed her hooves and frowned in Octavia’s direction. “Perhaps I don’t, Tavi, but I do know that one should be happy with what they have and not have to splurge on such petty details.”
“Oh really?” said Octavia, finally coming out of the closet. She carried several of Eleanor’s dresses and opened the door that led to a balcony.
“T-Tavi, what are you doing?”
“Well, since you’ve clearly made a life changing discovery leading to contentment, I’ve taken the liberty to rid of these ‘petty details’ from your collection.” Octavia dangled the expensive dresses over the side of the balcony and cast a smirk in Eleanor’s direction. The fashionable pony rushed to Octavia and attempted to recover the dresses that were just out of her reach.
“Tavi don’t be ridiculous, I need those!”
“For what? You’re a pony! You don’t need clothes.”
“What are these words? Of course I need them!”
“Why?” asked Octavia as she extended her reach a tad farther.
“Because I do, that’s why!”
“I want an answer that makes sense, my dear, not nonsense. Tell me why do you need them?”
“Octavia stop it right now!” yelled Eleanor.
Octavia grinned. “Tell me what I want to hear, filly.”
Eleanor grunted. “Fine. I need them because they are what make me special.”
Octavia hoofed back Eleanor her dresses and walked back inside the room. She scanned the floor and reached for a card that had fallen to the floor.
“Found it.”
“What, Tavi?” asked Eleanor placing each of her dresses back in the closet.
“The directions to Treble’s Music Store in Manehatten.” Octavia placed the card in a pocket of her suitcase and glanced at the clock. “Tis almost time for me to depart, but not before I make a little trip to the restroom. Eleanor, would you mind making me a sandwich before I leave? I don’t want to spend any unnecessary money if I don’t have to.”
Eleanor sighed. “Very well, Tavi.”
After a short moment, Eleanor returned from the kitchen with Octavia’s sandwich wrapped in a napkin. She placed it on the dresser when she noticed Octavia left a drawer open. A wallet size pictured that caught the corner of her eye piqued her interest enough to grab it. She examined carefully and gave a short gasp.
“Who is this stallion with Tavi?” she whispered to herself.
“Who’s what, darling?” asked Octavia coming out of the restroom.
Immediately Eleanor hid the picture behind her back and grinned nervously. “Oh, nothing my dear Tavi. Just the random mumblings of a pony. Here is your sandwich.”
Octavia gave the sandwich a whiff. “Red wine vinaigrette. You know me well, my love.”
“Yes, I do!” she replied chuckling.
Octavia kissed Eleanor’s lips then grabbed her things and headed out the door.
“Until we meet again, my sweet Eleanor.”
“O-Of course. Do be careful, my love,” replied Eleanor. She pulled out the picture once Octavia was out of sight.
“Do be careful.”
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The train rattled across the serene country side just as the sun hid behind the mountains of the Equestrian Madre range. Ponies from all walks of life sat huddled in their seats trying to keep warm in the coolness of the evening. Octavia placed another blanket over her shivering body as she continued to pen a new composition in her musical notebook.
“We apologize for the sudden breakdown of our heating system,” said an announcer over the speakers. “Rest assured out top engineers are working tirelessly to restore it. Thank you.”
“Blasted train,” muttered Octavia. “This is the very last time I purchase coach in an effort to save money.”
Octavia picked up her pencil and continued to write. The cold made her shiver so much the pencil fell out of her hoof and rolled under several seats behind her.
“Buck,” she murmured to herself. She sighed and looked out the window. Several tall pines lined the bottom ridge of the snowcapped mountains that lay beyond the valley of wheat that had become an object of trance for anypony that stared as they whizzed by. The sun had long escaped behind the ridge and the moon took its place illuminating the land with its delicate light. Octavia was just beginning to fall asleep when she felt a tap on her shoulder.
“Um, excuse me ma’am,” spoke a stallion’s voice.
Octavia grunted as she turned around and rubbed her eyes.
“What is it?”
“As courtesy of the Pony Express, we would like to provide you with a free hot beverage. Tea or hot chocolate?”
“Chocolate? Celestia no. Tea, please. Earl Grey.”
“Right away, ma’am.”
As the stallion left, Octavia snuggled into her former position and pulled a small lever in an attempt to recline the seat further. When she noticed that it would not, she gave a disgruntled sigh. “Blasted train seats. I swear, the only other thing that would make this train wreck a complete living hell would be…”
“Um, excuse me, ma’am,” said another voice.
“What?” blurted Octavia.
A young filly with a brown mane and blue eyes stared frightened into Octavia’s glare. She held out a tiny hoof with a pencil within its weak grasp.
“I-I think this is yours, ma’am.”
Octavia snatched the pencil. “Yes, thank you. Now if you’ll excuse me, I am weary and need some rest.”
Octavia turned around in her uncomfortably erect seat. “Young children. Celestia help me if Eleanor ever wanted to adopt one of these snotty inconveniences.”
“Ooh, is this yours?” said the young filly.
Octavia quickly turned again and saw the little filly staring in amazement at the large leather case.
“Yes.”
The filly reached out to touch it.
“Don’t touch it,” the gray pony warned. “Tis very valuable.”
“Oh, I know. I know. My mommy use to have one too. But it was a smaller one. This one’s too big for me, you know.”
“Yes. All the more reason for you to leave it be.”
“Can you play me a song, please?” asked the filly with wide, smiling eyes.
Octavia scowled. “Does it look like I’m giving a concert? Leave me be, child. I do not give impromptu performances for anypony.”
“Oh, I can see why.”
Octavia realized the curious filly had opened the case revealing the torn strings from the previous night’s fiasco. Quickly the cellist ripped the instrument out of the filly’s hooves and glared nastily at her.
“Are you deaf, child? I told you not to touch this.”
“Oh, but I can fix it. I can. See.” She pointed to sapphire ribbons that adorned her head. “I fixed my mane today and it’s pretty. So I can do it.”
“That is very generous of you to offer, but I’d rather have a professional take a look at it.”
“Whose Uh Pruhfeshunal?” the filly asked.
Octavia sighed. “No, my little pony. What I mean is I would rather have a tuner whose profession is to fix instruments such as mine deal with the problem. You are not a professional tuner, and definitely not a professional manedresser.”
The little filly looked puzzled. “My mane doesn’t have a dress.”
Octavia rolled her eyes. “Please, little filly. I am very tired and need my rest. And besides, aren’t your parents looking for you?”
“I don’t have any parents,” said the filly looking at the carpet.
“Oh.” Octavia glanced uneasily across the floor.
The little filly looked up at Octavia with pleading eyes. “Can you play a song for me?”
Octavia facehoofed. “Did you not hear what I just told you? My cello needs repair. It simply cannot play in its current state.”
“But only three are broken,” said the filly pointing at the cello. “You still have three left.”
“And what possible monstrosity would you expect me to play on a mere three strings?”
“Brahm’s Lullaby. Tis a simple melody that only requires three strings.”
Octavia stared blankly at the knowledgeable filly. “You are right about that. B-But, why would I go out of my way to play such a simple tune.”
“It was mommy’s favorite,” she answered with a sniffle. “And today is her birthday.”
Octavia looked at the sad filly and lifted her face with a tender hoof. “Very well. In honor of your late mother’s birthday, it would be my honor to play Brahm’s Lullaby.”
The cellist took the bow out of the case and readied it by the strings. She brushed away the torn strings that dangled like wires. As she proceeded to play the first note, the little filly tapped her hand.
“Is it okay if we sing the words?”
Octavia smiled. “I’m afraid the lyrics are unfamiliar territory for me.”
“Oh, then I’ll sing it first, and then you can sing with me when you learned it, okay?”
“Very well.”
Lullaby and good night,
Thy mother's delight,
Bright angels beside
My darling abide.
They will guard thee at rest,
Thou shalt wake on my breast.
They will guard thee at rest,
Thou shalt wake on my breast.
“That was lovely, my dear,” said Octavia as she covered the dozing little filly with a blanket. Octavia looked up into the night sky pondering the millions of bright stars decorating the darkness blanketing the sleepy valley. She finally slipped into a restful slumber with a hoof around the filly and a smile on her face.