Chapter 2: Making New Friends
It began like any other weekday for Rumble. He woke up at the crack of dawn, when Thunderlane ever so subtly yanked the sheets off of his body. Rumble groaned and pleaded to be given ten more minutes, but Thunderlane didn’t cave and resorted to his favorite method of getting the lazy colt out of bed.
Tickle torture.
He placed his hooves underneath Rumble’s forelegs and went to work, causing Rumble to squirm with laughter, pleading for mercy and promising to get up. Eventually Thunderlane stopped and patted Rumble on the head. The colt’s eyes were baggy and exhausted but the content smile on his face was enough to get the message across that he was ready to get up to start his day.
He dragged himself downstairs, passing the living room couch where his father lay passed out and face-down as though he had tripped. Rumble gave his Dad a quick kiss on the forehead, eliciting a slight stir from the older stallion who promptly went back to being stiff, snores like bellows of thunder escaping his lips.
Rumble went into the kitchen where he saw two bowls of cereal on the circular table in the center of the room. Thunderlane capped the milk and put it into their fridge before taking a seat at the table while Rumble did the same. Once his flank made contact with the chair, Rumble immediately started to shovel his cereal into his mouth, splashing milk and soppy grain everywhere.
Thunderlane raised an eyebrow, “You’re gonna get a tummy-ache if you eat that fast.”
“I’ll bew fwine.” Rumble muttered, his cheeks bulging with a wadded mush of milk and cereal. Some spray droplets of milk flew from his mouth and landed across the table. He put a hoof up to wipe his lips as he swallowed. “Oops, sorry about that.”
Thunderlane chuckled, “It’s cool, no use crying over spilt milk.”
“And please don’t call it a ‘tummy ache’, okay? I’m not a foal anymore, I don’t have a ‘tummy’. I have a stomach.”
Thunderlane stared for a moment, his eyes seemed to show a glimmer of something Rumble couldn’t make out. Was it sorrow? He didn’t have much time to analyze it as Thunderlane quickly smiled, “Okay, fine. I won’t use the term ‘tummy’ anymore if it bothers you that much.”
“Thanks,” Rumble said before he turned his attention back to his cereal. Thunderlane grabbed his napkin and proceeded to wipe the tiny drops of milk off the table. He then started to eat his cereal, going at a much more tedious pace than his brother. Rumble even managed to get through a second bowl before Thunderlane finished his first.
However, both eventually finished eating, leaving nothing but sugary milk in their bowls. But that wouldn’t last long as an idea formed in Rumble’s noggin. He looked up and gave his older brother a competitive glare.
“Wanna race to see who can finish their milk first?” He asked, pointing to his bowl.
Thunderlane looked down at his own bowl, then back up at his brother with an equally competitive look, “Bro, you are so on.”
Both brothers held the bowls up to their lips, eyes meeting both full of eagerness and pride.
“On your mark, get set...” Rumble let his lips touch the edge of the bowl, ready to chug it. “Go!”
Both ponies began to drink the contents of their bowl when, finally, Rumble placed his bowl down onto the table and threw his hooves up in triumph, his face dominated by a smile and milk-stained fur.
“Finished!”
Thunderlane sighed, but kept a smile as he placed his empty bowl onto the table, “Nice one, bro. You beat be by a split second, but now I’m going to get you back. You know that, right?”
“Tomorrow, same time, same place?” Rumble asked. Thunderlane chuckled and gave his brother a nod. “Awesome!” Rumble wiped the milk from his lips with the back of his hoof and stood up, pulled his saddle-bag over his back and made his way over to Thunderlane.
He gave his older brother a goodbye hug, which Thunderlane returned, and left to make his daily trek to school. The sun was at a modest height. Not at the pinnacle like it would be at noon, but it was no longer teetering on the horizon as if deciding whether to rise at all. Rumble hummed to himself a tune of joy, passing ponies that were either heading to work or already there, setting up stands on the side of the dirt road or preparing their shops to be opened. Nopony seemed to notice Rumble, but that didn’t mean he didn’t notice them.
He passed by a small candy shop called ‘Bon Bon’s Famous Treats’. He saw the white mare herself inside the shop talking to her best friend and eccentric unicorn, Lyra Heartstrings. Rumors circulated around town that they were a couple, no matter how many times the duo denied it, Bon Bon typically being the more vocal of the pair.
The colt never bought into it, believing that spreading rumors should stay in the grade-school classroom. And even if he was wrong and they were secretly a couple, it wasn’t anypony’s business but their own.
Across the street, Davenport stood outside his ‘Quills and Sofas’ shop, waiting for the first customer to enter. The gleam in his eye made it obvious to even Rumble that he hoped it would be a mare. The stories about him being a seducer of mares, or at least attempting to seduce mares, spread across town like a virus. However, unlike the rumor about Lyra and Bon Bon’s ‘relationship’, the rumor about Davenport had been proven true time and time again. So Rumble had no problem showing his disapproval of him. He rolled his eyes in disgust as he passed by, the flirtatious stallion too focused on a pair of mares walking by to notice.
Rumble kept trotting along, giving his eyes the chance to wander and his mind to drift off to things better and more exciting than school. He soon found himself reflecting on Thunderlane’s story from the night before and how it seemed to mentally transport him to another world where he could see through the eyes of an imaginary colt who was far more popular and heroic than he could ever hope to be.
The sound of ducks quacking snapped Rumble out of his daydream. He blinked a few times, finding the butter-colored pegasus he recognized as Fluttershy crossing his path. She was leading a row of ducklings that quacked and waddled as ducklings so often do, to the pond at the other side of the road. He would have been confused as to why a pony would be leading a group of ducklings to the pond, but since it was Fluttershy, the town’s ‘animal whisperer’, he didn’t think twice about the matter.
“Right this way, easy now Careful not to trip on any pebbles or cracks..” Fluttershy said to the ducklings in a calm voice. She turned to Rumble and let out a tiny gasp. “Oh, I’m sorry Rumble, I didn’t see you.”
“It’s cool,” Rumble said with a nervous chuckle.
“I hope you don’t mind if I cross in front of you. I’m just moving these ducklings over to this pond.” She pointed beyond a small line of bushes at a pond filled with crystal clear water where an older duck was wading along the surface, its beady little eyes focused on Fluttershy and the ducklings.
“It’s...not a problem at all,” He said somewhat uneasily, his cheeks heating up. Socializing always made him feel lofty and nervous. He waved Fluttershy along. “Please...go right ahead.”
Fluttershy nodded, “Thanks.” She turned back to the ducks. “Okay little ones, let’s get you back to your mother. I’m sure she can’t wait to see you all.”
As Rumble walked past, he couldn’t help but watch as the ducklings slipped into the pond where the larger duck waited. It paddled over to the small ones, quacking excitedly, flapping her wings until she was reunited with them. Fluttershy watched the sight from the edge of the pond. Rumble could see the most content smile on her face. It must’ve been contagious because not moments later he found a smile spread across his own face. But he wasn’t entirely sure if it was Fluttershy’s reaction to the ducks, or seeing the mother duck welcome her little ducklings with open wings, bringing them close to her body and nuzzling them like a loving parent should.
Rumble turned his attention back to the road and continued. The little ducklings had now invaded his mind as he imagined Rumble the Valiant leading them back to their mother.
But then the ducklings changed into a line of ponies that weren’t returning to their waiting mother in a pond, but fleeing from a psychotic pack of minotaurs. In a matter of moments Rumble went from having a cute little fantasy, to having a mature, masculine vision that left Rumble’s heart pounding with adrenaline and gave him a strange urge to start pounding his chest and howling like an enraged gorilla.
He finally reached the tiny schoolhouse, the front of which were packed with his classmates, who were outside chatting it up with each other. He felt himself start to get nervous. So many ponies, so many chances to make a fool out of himself or get made fun of between where he stood and the entrance to the building. Quickly he walked past the mass of students, keeping his eyes averted as he hoped that nopony would notice him.
“Hey where do ya think you’re going Tumble?”
Rumble froze. He knew that voice. It belonged to Orange Berry, one of his many tormentors. He could hear a chorus of laughter from his minions. Rumble closed his eyes, not wanting to look back at the pony, the image of his face in his mind- the blue mane and eyes, the orange face with a smug grin- was quite enough.
“Why don’t you turn around and face me like a stallion? Or are you a scared little filly?” Rumble swallowed hard and clenched his teeth. Somewhere, deep in his mind a voice shouted at him to face his bully head-on and to stop taking verbal abuse passively. Slowly, he continued walking towards the door. Orange Berry laughed, “That’s right, you keep walking you anti-social wimpy weirdo! Haha!”
The laughs echoed and Rumble found himself stopping at the door. He felt embarrassed from being mocked, from being laughed at for simply walking by. He felt shame for not doing anything and, once again, walking away like a coward. What would Rumble the Valiant do? Certainly not that.
Sniffling, he wiped the dampness that formed under his eye before slipping inside and going over to his seat. The room was nearly empty, which made sense as most of his classmates were outside playing around with friends. Inside, it was only him and Cheerilee, who was busy scribbling some notes onto the blackboard. Rumble took a deep breath, letting his various emotions settle.
Cheerilee turned around and her eyes landed on the lone colt in her room, she smiled. “First one inside again, I see.”
Rumble nodded, “Yep, I’ve gotta...” he cleared his throat before continuing, “gotta get my favorite seat before somepony else takes it.”
“Well I think that’s very good reasoning, Rumble.” Cheerilee said with a wink and smile before turning back to the board where she continued jotting notes. Rumble sighed, knowing that he had just lied, that he didn’t come inside simply to pick his favorite seat. He just didn’t feel like interacting with any of his classmates. Not that he was anti-social, but he always felt awkward, like he’d say the wrong thing in front of others, which would cause him to be seen as even more of a loser than he already was.
The only positive attention he seemed to get was from some of the fillies in the class, most of whom were relatively nice. And, of course, he always got along with Cheerilee. Not that it surprised him much. For some odd reason he always got along with older ponies than he did with ponies his age. He attributed it to all the time he spent around Thunderlane and his friends like Caramel and Big Macintosh and that orange-maned pony from Canterlot, whose name evaded Rumble’s memory.
The colts, however, were a different story. They, like Orange Berry, only seemed to give him attention when they felt inclined mock him. Whether it was because of Rumble being the only colt in the class without a cutie mark- save for the colt that was infamous among the class for picking his nose, Rumble was surprised he hadn’t gotten a booger— shaped cutie mark at this point— or his unique hairstyle, it seemed like he always managed to grab the attention of the jerks, as if he had a sign on his body that read ‘Please Bully Me’ in dark ink.
In fact, the reason that he chose a seat close to the back of the room was so he could easily slip into obscurity without drawing the attention of his less-than friendly classmates. He would be able to drift off into his own little world where he felt more free and less alone. Oftentimes he thought about returning home to see his brother waiting to greet him at the door.
Rumble had just started to doodle the image of Rumble the Valiant flying on a giant hawk in his notebook when the bell rang. Cheerilee trotted over to the entrance to call in the class. One by one ponies filled inside. Rumble averted his eyes. He knew that his classmates talked about him behind his back, most likely wondering why he was such a loner and why he chose to come into the classroom when he could have spent the time before class outside with the others. Cheerilee closed the door before making her way to the front of the room and addressing her students with a typical ‘good morning class’.
To which the class would respond ‘Good morning Miss Cheerilee’ like a herd of sheep going ‘baaa’.
That single response was the most energy the class would show until the bell for recess and lunch rang.
The day progressed as it usually did. Boring lesson in history, boring lesson in english, recess (which was just as boring for Rumble as class), lunch, and now, as the day started to draw to a close, a boring lesson in math.
Rumble lay his chin against the cold surface of his desk, staring up at Cheerilee and pretending to listen to her when really every word that she uttered drifted like a current through Rumble’s ears, coming out of the other end. He knew his future self that would be taking the test would hate his negligence, but at the moment he was too bored to care.
He looked to his right and through the window. It was beautiful outside, the sun tempting him with its radiance and warmth. They should have been out there, he thought. Instead, they found themselves stuck in the claustrophobic schoolhouse, breathing less-than-fresh air and discovering that academic lessons could often be the best cure for insomnia.
Rumble glanced around the room. The average pony in his class was acting like he was, watching their teacher talk with dismissive eyes. Then there were the few diligent students that constantly got high grades on their tests - scribbled down every single point that Cheerilee made. If she started telling a story about her pet cat, they would write down it’s name, what breed it was, and whether it preferred to play with its scratch-post or its squeaky toy.
And finally, there were the students that didn’t even try to hide their apathy. Some flicked their pencils up their desk, watching as it quickly made its ascent before stopping at the top and slowly rolling back down to their waiting hoof. Others whispered inconspicuously with their neighbors— Rumble assumed the whispering fillies were gossipping while the whispering colts were talking about a recent sporting event. Some others had their eyes closed as they slept, either with their head on their desk or sitting up in their chair as tiny snores and streams of drool escaped their open mouths.
Rumble didn’t blame them for being tired, though he had to admit it did show a lack of character. At least he managed to stay awake, even if only just. He didn’t want to seem rude. He liked Miss Cheerilee, even though her classes often had a thrill like that from watching paint dry. So he forced himself to stay awake, no matter how much it stung eyes.
Near the end of class, however, he started to suffer from a classic case of ‘head-bobbing’ syndrome— an ailment leaves one on the brink of falling asleep, only to jolt oneself awake at the last second with a quick jerk of the head.
Rumble’s heart jackhammered against his chest, his breathing was quick and shallow as if he had just been spooked by a phantom. He looked around the class to make sure nopony saw his embarrassing effort to stay awake. He was relieved to see everypony still watching Cheerilee give the lesson. Sighing, he turned his attention to his teacher with a revitalized determination to listen to her lecture. Unfortunately, this determination didn’t last long, and soon he had drifted back into his state of complete boredom. His chin slowly lowered onto the top of his desk as he went back to where he started: barely awake.
He looked towards the front of the room where three fillies were sitting together. He knew them as the Cutie Mark Crusaders, a rambunctious trio that was infamous throughout Ponyville for trying anything and everything to get their cutie marks. Rumble glanced down at his own blank flank, a source of ridicule for the few jerks he knew in his class. He didn’t have many friends, something that wasn’t helped by his near-chronic shyness brought on by the poor reputation he had with his classmates, and, of course, being a blank flank.
He placed a hoof onto the grey fur where his cutie mark should have been. He looked back up at the fillies, all still facing away from him. There had been moments where he contemplated asking to join their group, but he would always chicken out. He thought that they wouldn’t want a colt to become a member, and that he didn’t have anything unique to offer. In his mind, he was very average and never truly stood out from anypony else unless he was getting his face stuffed into a mud puddle or his mane covered in orange jam, one of Orange Berry’s favorite pranks.
But no matter how pointless the idea of approaching the three girls seemed in his mind, for some odd reason, he still felt a pull to do so. At first he wasn’t entirely sure why, but as time progressed he started to think it had something to do with Scootaloo, the orange pegasus Cutie Mark Crusader.
Ever since he laid eyes on that filly he had felt strange, like he was drawn to her. Perhaps it was her spunky attitude and the fact that she wasn’t what Rumble would classify as a “feminine filly”. Perhaps it was her mane-cut, how closely it resembled that of a certain cyan pegasus mare whom Rumble was acquainted with, thanks to her empire-sized ego and her role as one of the elements of harmony.
But perhaps, he thought, it was simply a mix of all of the above. Plus the few times he had spoken with her she seemed like a genuinely kind filly. She always had a bright smile on her face, whenever she wasn’t in a bad mood over school assignments or getting into a heated confrontation with Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon, the school jerks. Her eyes were always so bright and her tomboyish voice with the hint of softness drew him towards her. Sure, she was bit rough and tumble— preferring rock music to the more ‘effeminate’ genres— but all that did was make her more fascinating to him. To Rumble, she was the prime example of a “bad-flank” filly, which he thought was awesome.
His attention remained fixed on her until the bell rang, signaling the end of class. Class was done for the day, and Rumble didn’t learn a single thing other than the fact that his attention span was on par with that of a rodent, and that he had an overwhelming urge to talk to Scootaloo and her friends.
But mostly to Scootaloo.
He stuffed his books and pencils into his saddlebag and pulled it over his back. He looked up to see the trio leisurely exiting the schoolhouse, giggling and smiling the whole way. He envied their cheeriness, and wished he could share a laugh with some friends. Sure he had his brother, but it just wasn’t the same.
Once fully set, Rumble walked out of the tiny building and entered the warm spring day. He held his hoof up to shield his sensitive eyes from the piercing glare of the sun as he scanned the grassy area outside of the schoolhouse in an attempt to find the girls. Finally, he spotted them sitting beneath a large tree, taking advantage of its giant shadow that provided them some cool shelter in the otherwise humid day. They all looked so at ease, making the anxious colt want to approach them even more.
Taking a deep breath - the sweet spring air filling his lungs - and slowly releasing it back to the collective atmosphere, Rumble started to take a few steps towards the tree where the Cutie Mark Crusaders were resting.
I can do this, He thought. Don’t overthink it. They’re just fillies and they’re nice. Plus they are blank flanks, like me. I have nothing to be worried about, they won’t judge me.”
He was about twenty feet away when he suddenly got cold hooves and had to stop. He started to panic, watching as the three friends started to giggle about something. Scootaloo the spoke, but Rumble couldn’t quite make it out. Though the bright smile on her face and the subsequent laughter of Sweetie Belle and Apple Bloom told him that it must’ve been another joke. His cheeks brightened like a pair of maroon lights, all the courage he mustered up left. He was alone - the colt without friends.
Who was I kidding? Rumble looked down. Going up to these girls out of the blue like this without anything to say? This was such a dumb idea.
Deciding to abort his mission, Rumble turned to leave, but his departure was halted by a friendly voice calling out to him. It was a familiar voice with a slight country twang.
“Rumble?” Apple Bloom asked. “Hey! Rumble, over here!”
Oh no, Rumble started to panic, mind racing about possible options on what to do. Should he run? Turn around and face the girls? Walk away and pretend he didn’t hear them?
“Rumble!” This time it was the unmistakable voice of Scootaloo, spunky with a slight raspiness. Upon hearing her beckon to him, Rumble felt all impulse to ignore their call drain from his body, replaced with an even greater urge to respond to them. He turned around to face the three fillies, all smiling big warm smiles and waving to him from under the towering oak.
“Uh...” Rumble said, swallowing in an attempt to rid himself of the lump in his throat. “Hey girls. W-what’s...going on?”
“Nothing much,” Sweetie Belle said with a shrug, “we’re just talking about past attempts to get our cutie marks.”
“Oh...that sounds...fun.” Rumble said, looking from side to side anxiously.
Scootaloo laughed, “Yeah, and it would be even more fun if one of these embarrassing moments actually did what they were intended. But, as you can see,” she pointed to her bare flank, “they haven’t.” Scootaloo laughed bitterly. Rumble noticed a reddish tinge to her cheeks. She looked up at Rumble with a big smile, her eyes bright and excited. “Hey are you doing anything later?”
Rumble shook his head. “I wasn’t planning to, why?”
“Well, us three were about to head over to Sugarcube Corner for some shakes. Maybe you’d like to tag along?”
Rumble looked up, eyes wide. Suddenly he felt a surge of confidence rush through his veins as he gazed upon the little pegasus filly that had just invited him to hang out with her and her friends.
“R-really, you’re inviting...me...to hang out with you guys!?!”
“Yeah.” Scootaloo said.
“That’s sweet!” He shouted before realizing how ridiculously desperate he made himself sound. He quickly pulled his excitement back, clearing his throat as he let the feeling subside. He put on as ‘cool’ of a face as possible, like the question wasn’t a big deal. “I mean...uh...yeah sure. That sounds cool.”
“Great! Come on then, get yer flank over here!” Apple Bloom said, motioning for Rumble to finish his jaunt over to join them under the towering oak.
This is your chance, Rumble. Don’t blow it.
Nervous, but filled with newfound excitement, Rumble started to cautiously make his way over to the three fillies, trying his best not to go too fast, but neither did he want to seem too slow. He was also trying to avoid doing something stupid, such as tripping or appearing to be awkward. The rest of his energy was put to his face. He tried to keep it as neutral as possible, not wanting his inner excitement to reveal itself lest he appear to be a desperate fool.
He was no fool, he was Rumble ‘the Valiant’, or at least he was in the fictional stories his brother had told him. Truth was that he was no knight, he wasn’t brave- he was a blank-flank colt from Ponyville without any discerning traits- at least in his mind. But for the time being, he would do his best to emulate the fictional knight by projecting some form of confidence.
Finally he reached the tree and looked up, his legs wobbling ever so slightly as he gazed upon the faces of the three fillies. They all looked so friendly, so welcoming that Rumble felt his blush return and looked away, listening as the three girls giggled.
Crud
Apple Bloom gave Rumble a reassuring smile. “Aw come on Rumble, it’s okay we ain’t gonna bite ya, none.”
Still somewhat nervous, Rumble nonetheless managed to ease himself and squeak out a small chuckle.
“Hehe, sorry. I’m just...not really used to talking to...” The colt cleared his throat, trying his best to get out the last words. “...fillies.”
He wanted to say that he wasn’t used to anypony talking to him, let alone inviting him to hang out. He never received such friendliness from his classmates and he was tempted to say so. But after some brief consideration all he could do was finish his statement with “fillies.”
The three fillies exchanged confused glances. Fearing that he made himself look like a dunce, Rumble face-hoofed.
Smooth move there, cowpony, he thought with a voice in his head that wasn’t his own, rather it was that of Thunderlane, both in sound and tone- snarky, sarcastic and smooth. Perhaps because his older brother had often said that whenever one of his close friends did something stupid while trying to impress a girl. But he couldn’t linger on the fact that his brother’s voice popped up in his mind rather than his own. He simply looked back up at the fillies to see them staring back at him with the same confusion that they had on their faces prior. Rumble was about to bolt from the area in a panic when Scootaloo started to giggle. He looked up to see her covering her mouth with a hoof, her cheeks a bright red and her teeth shining like ivory in the tree’s shade. The other two fillies then smiled. Thinking that they were laughing at him for sounding so socially awkward, Rumble looked down in shame.
Scootaloo finally managed to slow her laughing down enough to speak. “I can sort of understand that. We won’t bite, though. I promise.”
Rumble’s anxiety vanished, replaced with a great sense of relief. He looked up, a small smile creeping onto face. He allowed himself to join in the laughter - even if it was at his expense. He nervously rubbed the back of his head and looking from side to side.
“O-okay...I mean...I know you guys wouldn’t bite I just- ”
Apple Bloom stuck her hoof out to silence him before he dug himself too much of a hole.
“Hey, don’t sweat it,” she said, “Now come on, are we just gonna keep lollygaggin’, or are we gonna go to Sugarcube Corner to get some shakes and plan out some crusadin’?”
With that, the four ponies headed off. Rumble initially let himself drift behind, still feeling like too much of an outsider to deserve a spot in the middle of the group. But his plan was thwarted when Apple Bloom put a hoof behind his back and dragged him forward so he was directly in-between her and Scootaloo. Before Rumble even had the chance to get his bearings, the little filly leaned in from his right began to blitz him with questions.
“So, Rumble, yer a blank-flank as well.” Apple Bloom said, gesturing to the colt’s cutie mark-less bottom. His cheeks turned red.
“Erm, I...I guess so. I mean, yes I am.”
“Well then, how would you like to join our group?” Sweetie Belle asked from his left.
“Yeah!” Scootaloo said, buzzing slightly through the air. “You could be the first colt Cutie Mark Crusader!”
“It’s perfect!” Apple Bloom said, “Not only would we have another member, we would also be more diverse! We could even advertise ourselves.” Apple Bloom cleared her throat, “ ‘We are the Cutie Mark Crusaders- Ponies of Both Genders Workin’ Hard to Get Our Cutie Marks.’ “
All three fillies hoof-bumped in triumph while Rumble’s blushing intensified. He imagined he was near indistinguishable from a tomato at this point.
Scootaloo turned towards the red-faced colt, “So, what do you say? Wanna be the fourth Cutie Mark Crusader?”
Rumble’s eyes widened at this request as sudden excitement flowed through him at the request. No matter how hard he tried to act completely calm, it was a daunting task. The friendliness displayed by the three fillies was unlike anything he had ever experienced. Not only because they were of the opposite gender, but because his past tendencies of being reserved and quiet.
This was only made worse by the fact that nopony seemed to make any effort to get to know him. To most he was just another body in the room. To some others he was more, but only because they saw him as a punching-bag.
But these three girls expressed genuine interest in him without fully knowing him. They were treating him like he was the new student and they were tasked with showing him around. It was like they were determined to make him join their little clique. This, however, was different because it was voluntary, and that only made the situation for Rumble even more sweet. Yet it was still a bit scary to a colt like Rumble that had very little experience interacting with the opposite gender.
Well, perhaps clique wasn’t the correct term - that would be best suited for snobby, elitist groups formed by fillies like Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon. Their impulsive openness did slightly confuse Rumble, especially since they never asked him to hang out with them before. But he decided that it was best not to question the fact that his number of friends had just grown three-fold.
Rumble finally answered. “Sure, I would love to! As...as long as it really is okay with you three.”
“Of course it is. Why would we invite you if it wasn’t?” Sweetie Belle chuckled. “The more the merrier, right girls?”
Both Apple Bloom and Scootaloo nodded.
“Well...awesome. Thanks guys, I really appreciate it!” Rumble said. With that, the group continued its trot off to Sugarcube Corner, Rumble grinning from ear-to-ear the entire way.