//------------------------------//
// Chapter 3: I Come in Peace (Re-Re-Edited) 
// Story: A Cartoonist in Equestria 
// by Autismo555 
//------------------------------//

Harold didn't know what he was feeling. His head swam in a miasmatic sea of confusion, sweat trickling down his face and shocked blue eyes staring out into the depths of space. The only sound Harold could hear was the beating of his heart, unaware that he grasped the air where he held the drifting newspaper. It was because of the name of the newspaper that he felt completely perplexed. The name, "Equestria" sounded familiar... strangely familiar.

Harold swore he knew that place from somewhere but he couldn't put his finger on it. It was the strangest feeling; like a nagging voice ranting somewhere in the deep recesses of his brain, Harold felt something reawaken inside of him from a long slumber. Gripping both sides of his head, Harold tried to dig deeper into this feeling, this "sense" as he called it. Equestria, the name of the land, had to be planted somewhere in his memories. As he tried to push forward into finding the answers he needed, Harold felt his head throb with pain. Something was keeping him from finding those answers. What was it about Equestria that made Harold feel this way? Why couldn't he remember!?

Then a sharp pain veered Harold from his thoughts, like a thorn had pricked his frontal lobe. The pain was excruciating. Harold felt like his head would explode like an atom bomb, splattering it over the fresh, green grass. It took only a matter of moments for the migraine slowly shrunk away back into numbness. Harold massaged his temples, trying again to ponder his current predicament, only for it to be washed away with the ebbing pain. Everything that Harold wanted to know, from how he arrived in Equestria and his familiarity with this place to how he would find a way back to the main highway was completely lost.

Disappointed, Harold back fell into a slump on the stump, wondering what he was supposed to do now. He had to get out of this crazy place. He needed to find a way out and get back to the main highway. It was the only was that Harold could ensure that his promise to Lana could finally be fulfilled. Where was he supposed to go? What was he going to do now? Then, a tiny flicker of inspiration was lit.

Maybe a little drawing and some classic music would help him to clear his head. Not only that, it was also an opportunity to see if he could break out of his "artist's block." This land he found himself in inspired him to draw once again. Harold brought his backpack to his lap and unzipped it, reaching for his sketchbook inside. He brought out his sketchbook and a Ziploc bag, containing colored pencils of every sort, from ebony black to bright white. Lying on top of the pencils was a black mechanical pencil which he received as a Christmas present last year. 

Clicking the back of the pencil, Harold reached in his pocket and pulled out his iPod. Like his bike, backpack and everything else inside, the iPod showed no significant or insignificant damage. Harold turned his iPod on. The battery life was revealed to have twenty-eight percent left, having so little time left in this place to be powered up. Harold switched the music to Beethoven’s Symphony No. 6 since he decided that the sunny, peaceful setting deserved the gracefulness of Ludwig's music. Also, it helped him to concentrate and block out any unnecessary distractions while he drew.

Harold shifted in his seating and looked out to the distant field. He began to quickly scan the field, his eyes recording every detail he could see; the distance of the field, the height of the mountains and the wispy curls of the passing clouds. Every hill became a smaller mound in the distance and the tiny brush trees bordered the uprising mountains, increasing in size as Harold trailed the trees coming closer with his eyes. All of the field were slowly being developed in his head as if his eyes and his mind were a digital camera. Within minutes, Harold fully captured the scene and every little detail inside.

Harold hit "play" on his iPod and he began to draw.

The first thing that Harold did was outline the hills. A good cartoonist not only had to start with the basic lines and curves before he could add in any detail, but to start with a gentle stroke so the mistakes could be easily erased. So, he started off with outlining the closest hill to him, a declining curve which sloped downwards to the right until it slightly became horizontal, reaching the end of the sideways-turned sheet of paper. Then he added in another hill, starting from the right side of the paper, crossing the near midsection of the slope and to the left side. Finally, the third and final hill was added in, a very slightly curving arc stretching across the paper. Harold gave his outlines a more visible lining, erasing the excess lines after doing so.

Harold went on to the mountains. It was fairly easy to draw the mountains here in Equestria, just drawing three steep humps and curving them perfectly like a hill on a roller coaster. The snow covering the peaks of the mountains were quite simple as well, like drawing stalactites with a curvier point. When the mountains were done being drawn, Harold drew smaller curves at the base of the mountains, signifying the location and the sizes of the trees he was adding in. Within the arcs of the curves, Harold drew in even smaller, abundant curves where the treetops were with careful precision. Finally, to end the outlining session, Harold carefully added in the clouds, starting off as underdeveloped overlapping circles on top of a flat line with a curved side. Harold added in small arcs between those circles, drew the wispy curls at both ends and used the curls to finish detailing the clouds. The excess lines were all erased and shavings fell onto the paper, only to be blown away by Harold's breath. The tall strands of grass and the flowers were added into the foreground, thus marking the ending of the sketching.

With the field now outlined and out of the way, it was finally time for Harold's favorite part of the drawing: coloring his artwork in. Harold reached for his pencil bag and pulled out several colored pencils. The colors he carefully chose for this artwork were three different shades of green, two shades of sky and light blue, purple, white and yellow. As a cartoonist, Harold learned to choose the colors of an art piece and determine which shade was the most appropriate for his drawings. As such, Harold chose a light shade of green for the grass and colored in the grass, moving the pencil into one single diagonal scribbling pattern so he would mess it up by mixing it up with a different scribbling pattern. Next, Harold went for the trees, using the two duller shades of green. 

This was where it go tricky for Harold, because he was still a growing student when it came to mixing colored pencils. Harold took the shades of green and began to lightly stroke the trees with a lesser dull green, coloring only the bottom half of the trees with that color. He mixed in the duller green color with the other green shade, which came out well much to Harold's surprise, coloring in the rest of the trees. Harold set his green pencils into the bag and moved on to the sky, where he planned to mix in the light blue and the sky blue into one single sky. He took the light blue and lightly colored in the bottommost part of his drawing, leaving some of the sky glowing white around the base of the mountains. Then he advanced his light blue pencil up to the middle of the sky, careful not to color over the clouds. When the light blue finally served its purpose for this drawing he took the sky blue and carefully mixed it in with the light blue, filling in the rest of the sky.

Harold smiled at his drawing. His ability to mix in colors must've grown since his month of depression and sadness, after Lana had passed away. When Lana died nearly a month ago, Harold suffered from total pain, sadness and isolation. There was no drawing he would have done that helped to express how he felt during that month. It was then that Harold first suffered "artist's block," the two words that most artists dreaded suffering from. Up until now, Harold could not find the inspiration to draw anything, even with the most beautiful of nights giving him peaceful slumber. But now... now it was different. It was as if the land itself was open to be shown in the most artistic and meaningful way by Harold's hand.

As Harold put away the two shades of blue into the bag, a noise caught his ears. Despite Beethoven's music playing inside his earphones, Harold could hear that noise over the volume, coming from the forest behind him. Putting his music on pause, Harold turned to the forest, removed his earphones and listened closely. It sounded like singing echoing from all the way in the forest, sung by an angelic voice calling out to him in a soft and beautiful melody. For a moment, Harold felt himself entranced by the song. Then he snapped himself out of his trance, shook his head and stood up from the stump. He knew the singing meant that there was civilization nearby. If he could find whoever was nearby, then she would direct him back to the main highway.

Tucking his iPod away in his pocket and packing his artistic tools in his backpack, Harold stood his bike up and traversed into the forest, following the sweet sound of the music. The forest he traveled through was fairly thick, most of the area covered with gargantuan trees and oversized brush. Harold heard the sounds of fauna inhabiting the forest chirping, croaking and chittering in a perfect chorus as rays of sunlight peered down through the trees, giving spots of bright illumination to reveal his path through the thick flora. It was everything that a peaceful forest was that Harold would ask for. 

Harold stopped in the middle of the forest. He put a hand to his ear, drowning out the sounds of the animals. Through the singing birds and the buzzing cicadas, Harold heard the singing become louder, the harmonious tune nearly lulling him into a blissful trance. His eyes slowly fluttered closed, but an unconscious slap to the face helped him to wake up from the trance. As he listened closer, Harold heard the song of a bird, repeating the sweet sounding notes with a heavenly whistle. It was just as Harold thought; he was getting closer to civilization.

Harold trudged through the forest, pushing away branches and giant leaves away from his path with one hand while traveling the bike by the handlebars with the other. He walked, and walked, and walked non-stop towards the mysterious voice singing such a heavenly hymn to be repeated by an obedient bird. In five minutes of walking through the forest, Harold spotted an opening, glowing with white, radiant sunlight. Harold carefully tiptoed over to the opening and set his bike down against the tree, kicking his kickstand down before he crouched behind the brush.

It was a nasty thing to do, Harold knew that already, but what other way was there to determine the owner of the voice being either benevolent or bedeviling?

Through the opening of the edge of the forest, Harold peeked and saw something that peaked his interest by tenfold. He saw a cottage, approximately two stories high with a shrubbery roof sitting near a small creek. Birdhouses and small mammalian holes were decorated all over the front yard while a small dock was housed underneath a small bridge, all housing birds and animals of different size and color. The design of the cottage itself reminded Harold of the Shire from the "Lord of the Rings" movies.

The beautiful voice began to sing once again, hitting a few octaves repeated by the bird's musical whistle. Harold knew the singing was coming from inside of the cottage. Harold stroked his chin, a plan slowly formulating inside of his head. If this place was where the owner of that voice lived, then maybe, just maybe she would be able to help him find a way back to the main highway. Harold nodded in accord to his own plan. It was a long shot, he knew that too, but it was the only way to ensure him that he was a step closer to his dream of being a cartoonist and fulfilling Lana's promise.

Suddenly, the hinges on the door squeaked while the wooden portal slowly swing open. Harold ducked himself behind the brush and waited to see the owner step outside and reveal herself. What he saw instead resulted in a mix between confusion and wonder.

Stepping out from the doorway was a yellow-colored pony, a long pink mane drooping from the top of its head. Her flank was plastered with tattoos of three tiny blue butterflies with pink wings and two curly antennas. Perched on top of the pony's back was an adult blue jay, its stomach area wrapped up in gauze and bandages just below the feathers. Harold felt his inner anger boil inside, clenching his fist tightly. The owner of the cottage had the absolute nerve to color her pet pony like she was promoting Easter weekend, and it wasn't even April yet! And what was with the blue jay being wrapped up in bandages!? The owner must've been a veterinarian and yet, she totally disregarded the pony's health by dying it yellow, pink with three tattoos on the side of its butt! Just what was it that these people with coloring and dressing up their pet horses!?

Before Harold rose up to confront the owner, he saw the blue jay fly away from the pony's back, perched atop of a branch next to a birdhouse. The pony sprouted wings from its sides and fluttered up to that same branch, smiling with joy. Harold felt himself gasp then vigorously rubbed his eyes, dumbfounded by what he saw at first. Then after blinking rapidly a few times, Harold looked back and saw that pony still hovering in the air... with it's wings still attached to its sides, flapping majestically like a bird!

Harold felt himself appalled by this turn of events. Had he seen this right!? Had he just saw a pegasus, a mythological horse with bird wings planted on its sides!? This was unreal... no, unreal wasn't even the right word that he could describe what he felt! Pegasus were supposed to be fictional creatures! There was no way Harold was seeing what he was seeing! He knew that tornado did a lot more damage to his head than he realized! How else would he be able to witness a fictional creature, even learn to combine colors in his drawing!?

"Okay, Mr. Blue Jay," the pegasus said in the most gentlest of voices. "Now you stay out of the forest for three days and get plenty of rest and your tummy will be healed in no time at all. Come see me if you feel any discomfort in your tummy area."

Harold's jaw dropped when he heard the pegasus talk. This wasn't possible! There was no way that pegasus talked to that blue jay, and understood what the bird was telling her! What in the name of God was going on here!? Harold felt his body assaulted by little electrical currents running through his veins as he was hit by a shocking revelation. That pegasus and that voice... she couldn't have been who he thought she was!

But it was. The yellow pegasus fluttered over to the blue jay and, to Harold's complete horror, began to sing an unfamiliar tune. The blue jay repeated the tune, earning another smile from the pegasus as she nuzzled the bird. 

"There, that's better. It seems your singing is now back to normal," said the pegasus. The bandaged bird whistled happily before it turned and hopped back into the birdhouse. "Oh, you're welcome. I'm glad I was able to help."

Harold's heart sunk like a stone and fell backwards on his behind. No, there was no way that was her, but there was no denying it now! The owner of that sweet song belonged to that talking pegasus! Harold felt his whole heart stop at that moment, nervous beads of sweat trickling down the side of his face. He had enough of this nonsense! He had to get the hell out of here before this whole situation drove him mad! Harold quickly and quietly got up and turned to fetch his bike...

SNAP!

... and flinched as the sound of a broken twig coincided with his flattening sole. He looked down and saw it was a twig, a conveniently fallen part of a tree which Murphy's Law happened to conveniently place it just for him, so he would be discovered right out in the open. Harold reluctantly turned his head, his half-fearful, half-crazed face meeting with the frightened and curious look of the pegasus. None of them moved or made a sound as their surprised looks locked on to each other like a couple of owls staring at each other from a good distance away. The silence between them was deafening, even the forest's were drowned out by their reactions, until...

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!"

“WWWWAAAAAAUUUUGGGGHHHH!!!!”

Both Harold and the pegasus screamed after one another and darted behind the nearest tree they could find. Harold panted heavily and clasped his hand around his heart, the organ beating like a tribal drum. The drops of nervous sweat became a monsoon of cool bodily saltwater pouring down his head and soaking the collar of his shirt. Harold swore he felt his pants become wet too, but he hoped to God that was sweat.

Harold swallowed down some air and saliva before he reluctantly peeked his head out from around the tree, seeing the pegasus do the same. With a brief yelp, both of them retreated their heads back, shaken by the big scare they experienced. Still, Harold felt ashamed of himself. To think he was easily scared by a flying pony just because it had wings and a sweet voice! Like Lana always said, "don't judge the cover by the book unless you've read more than three chapters of the novel." In this case, Harold was afraid just because the creature he saw was possibly a friendly pegasus, though he wondered if the pegasus was thinking the same thing.

Swallowing one final time, Harold slowly turned away from his hiding place, the pegasus doing the same. Carefully they inched towards each other, not making any sudden movements that would send them into another brief moment of panic. When the two finally came close enough together, Harold reached his hand towards the pegasus's hoof, the tip of his fingers making contact. Like a static shock, Harold and the pegasus jumped back with a yelp, but they did not run away. Instead they stood their ground, though the pegasus hid her face inside of her mane, looking at him with shy, puppy eyes. It was... rather cute for Harold. His heart was already pounding out of shock to be reacting to the pony's timid cuteness.

“P-P-Please... d-d-d-don’t eat m-m-me,” the pegasus squeaked as she shivered like a frozen animal. 

Harold tilted his head, a plain but dumbfounded expression grown on his face. Did she really expect that Harold was going to eat her just because he was a human? Not that he would blame the pegasus for being scared of him. She probably hadn't seen a human like him in all of her life.

Forcing a friendly smile on his face, Harold squatted down to the pegasus's level and held his upturned hand to her. "Hey, it's okay, little fella. I'm not gonna hurt you or anything," Harold said calmingly. "I'm not even thinking about eating you. I would never eat or harm any living creature, alright? There's no need for you to be afraid of me."

Harold's assurance seemed to calm down the pegasus. She managed to stop her trembling, but she kept her face hidden from the long curtains that was her mane. If Harold didn't know any better, he would say the pegasus was just like he was when he was younger: timid, afraid and nervous. To him, he was looking at an incarnation of his easily scared side in the form of a delicate, female winged pony. The pony drew circles in the dirt with her hoof, giving Harold a single second of sideways glances before looking away to ground. Harold may have said he was a vegetarian, but that did nothing to ease the nervousness of meeting another intelligent creature. Breathing deep through his nose, Harold reluctantly broke the awkward silence between them.

"I should probably start off with the introductions, then," Harold said, not believing he was talking to a mythical flying pony. "Hi, my name is Harold DeMatt. In case you were wondering, I'm called a human or homo sapiens if you prefer the scientific terms. I take it you haven't seen my kind around here before?"

The pegasus glanced back up to Harold and shook her head. She turned her attention back to the ground, drawing another circle in the dirt while Harold sighed lightly. Turned out there was no other humans inhabiting this strange yet wondrous land, much to his dismay. The ice-breaking between him and the pony didn't work either. Scratching his head, Harold came with another way to help himself break out of the awkward moment. It was then that an idea popped up inside of his head.

"You know, back where I come from, we have ponies like yourself, but they didn't have any wings," Harold explained to the pegasus. "In fact, those sorts of ponies don't exist back home. They don't talk, they don't sing or tend to the needs of animals. Come to think of it, the closest I came to a talking horse is Mr. Ed. That reminds me, you wouldn't have any television around here, do you?"

The pegasus looked at Harold with confusion. From the way she eyed him through her elongated mane, Harold assumed there was no technology in Equestria, let alone a simple television set. "Oh, sorry I asked," he muttered, rubbing the back of his head. "I can't believe I'm asking this, but do you have a name for yourself, Miss Pegasus?"

The pegasus kept her glance towards the unknown creature. She looked away from him and mumbled something inaudible, making it hard for Harold to make out what she said. "I'm sorry, what was that you said?" Harold asked.

"Mumm. Mumm Fruterrmmsh.”

Harold leaned in a little closer. The mumbling was made audible and a little clearer, but the words were still scrambled. "One more time, please?" he asked politely.

A few seconds of silence passed through them like ghosts. After using that time to muster up a little bit of courage, the timid pegasus looked Harold in his curious eyes and squeaked her name out, this time loud enough for him to just barely make it out.

"I'm... I'm Fluttershy."


=====================================================================


BAM!

The door to the Golden Oaks Library swung open, slamming the outer wall. Twilight Sparkle cantered out of the library and into the open streets of Ponyville, carrying Spike on her back. Spike held on to Twilight's neck as she galloped past the denizens of Ponyville, ignoring the formal greetings given to her. Wether it was a nice "hello," a wave of their hoof or a respectful bow to their newest princess, Twilight would've addressed such politeness and insist they treat her as a fellow pony, not a member of royalty.

But that wasn't today. Today, she was on a mission to assemble her friends, the Elements of Harmony and respond to Princess Celestia's urgent matter. She was too busy to even acknowledge the ponies' politeness, though she cast them a sideways glance while she galloped to her friends' houses. Spike managed to keep his hold on Twilight's neck while his adoptive sister jeered around a turn and made a beeline for Sugarcube Corner.

"So, what's the big mission, Twilight?" Spike asked. "Aren't you gonna fill me in on this mission? Maybe I can help out, too. You know, like how I helped out when you entrusted the fate of the Crystal Empire to me while we were fighting King Sombra."

Twilight kept her eyes on the path, not looking back to Spike riding on her back. “I’m sorry Spike, but Princess Celestia says this mission is strictly on a need-to-know basis,” she informed. "The letter said not to speak to anypony else besides my friends of the coming crisis and I'm afraid that includes you too, Spike."

The baby dragon groaned dishearteningly and lowered his eyes. "Don't take this the wrong way, Spike. It's not like I don't want you come to Canterlot with the girls and I," Twilight explained. "It's just that this is a very important emergency from Princess Celestia and she asked it to be confidential. She doesn't want anypony who stumbled upon any piece of information to be a target for our enemies. That's why I can't tell you, Spike, because I don't want to see you hurt."

Spike inhaled deeply and sighed, still feeling crestfallen. "I understand, Twilight."

"I knew you would, Spike," Twilight said before she slowed her galloping to a halt. "Oh, good, we're here."

Spike looked up from his disheartening gaze and looked up to the building that Twilight stopped at. The place was Ponyville's premiere bakery and sweet shop, Sugarcube Corner. The building resembled a giant gingerbread house, complete with a roof with frosting curled around the edges of the rooftops. The two top floors that towered over the building resembled two cupcakes stacked on one another, with pink icing and three lit candles on top of the topmost cupcake. Sugarcube Corner was known for its sweets and its lounging area, and it happened to be the home of one of Twilight's dear and most important friends.

Twilight approached the front door and heaved a worried sigh. "Okay, Spike, let's put on our best smiles and pray that Pinkie Pie's home. I have a bad feeling that this has to be the biggest emergency that Princess Celestia has informed me about." 

“What kind of emergency!?”

Twilight yelped as she jumped three feet into the air by the high-pitched cheery voice. Spike was thrown backwards from Twilight's back and plunged head first into the soil beneath him, leaving only the rest of his draconic body to wriggle and push himself out. The young alicorn hovered in midair with her wings as she turned and glared at the pink pony lying on the ground, rolling on the dirt while she giggled away at the scared reaction.

“Pinkie Pie,” Twilight grumbled.

The pink pony was called Pinkie Pie, short for Pinkamena Diane Pie. As her name suggested, Pinkie Pie's coat, mane and tail were all colored pink, up to the point where her happy demeanor was tickled pink. Her mane and tail appeared poofy as her personality and her flank depicted three balloons, two of them blue with yellow strings and one yellow with a blue string. Pinkie Pie wore a smile that seemed to never go away, except for when she was sad or angry if somepony broke her signature Pinkie Promises.

That same smile was plastered onto Pinkie's face as she kept laughing to the comical scared reaction from her best friend forever. Wiping a tear and snorting in between breaths, Pinkie Pie finished laughing while Twilight lowered herself to the ground. "Oh, Twilight! You and Spike should've seen the looks on your faces! It was priceless!" Pinkie Pie said, returning to her giggling.

“Pinkie! You know how much I hate it when you do that!” Twilight snapped.

“Aww, come on Twilight, lighten up! You know as well as everypony else in Ponyville that all of my jokes are all in good, clean fun!” Pinkie Pie replied with a high chortle. "Besides, everypony gets a good laugh if you get scared out of your wits even though nopony intended fo you to jump like a scaredy-cat!" 

Twilight stared at Pinkie Pie with a look, half-deadpanning and half-glare before she heaved a calming sigh. "Yeah, we'll see if you can still get to have your 'good, clean fun' after we get back from Canterlot. Princess Celestia informed me that there's a growing threat somewhere in Equestria and she needs us and the girls to meet up at Ponyville square right away!"

Suddenly, Pinkie Pie's bubbly laughter popped to halt which was replaced with a shocked gasp. “A threat!? Somewhere in Equestria!?" Pinkie Pie gasped once more, holding the sides of her head with her hooves. "Oh no, what's happening!? Is Nightmare Moon back to plunge Equestria into eternal night again!?"

“No, Pinkie. It’s a...”

“Is Discord creating chaos again!?” 

“Pinkie, this is a...”

“No, wait, let me guess! Are the changelings invading Canterlot again!?” 

“Pinkie...”

“Oh no! I bet it's even worse! The flour factories were all shut down by some greedy fatcat and now they stopped making bags of flour!!”

“PINKIE PIE!!!”

Twilight's newly acquired Royal Canterlot Voice compelled Pinkie Pie's slight hyperactive panicking to screech to a halt. She was reluctant to use the Voice, since she wasn't one to raise her voice out for any reason whatsoever. If by any chance she couldn't throw her voice in whether it was an angry throng or Pinkie's mindless chattering, an exception had to be made. Twilight brought a hoof to her chest and breathed in, then exhaled while extending her hoof outwards. She trotted up to Pinkie Pie and formed a little huddle with her, keeping her voice to a dull roar.

"Look, Pinkie, this is a very serious and private matter. Like I said, Princess Celestia said she needed us and the girls out to Ponyville square so we would meet up with her sent chariots to bring us to Canterlot," Twilight informed solemnly with a face as somber as her tone. "I'll explain the situation with you and the others on the way. Meanwhile, I need you to round up Applejack and Rarity while I look in the skies for Fluttershy and Rainbow Dash."

Twilight grabbed both of Pinkie's cheeks and brought her close to her face, seriousness burning into the pink pony's eyes like a laser. "And don't tell everypony else but our friends about this," Twilight ordered through her teeth. "This mission is highly confidential. One little slip of the tongue and our enemies could hear about it, you understand?"

Pinkie nodded, whimpering an affirmation between her squished cheeks. Twilight released her grip on Pinkie’s face, dropping her to the ground with an “OOF!” and sighed. "Alright, then. Pinkie, you go find Applejack and Rarity and bring them to Ponyville square. I'm gonna look in Cloudsdale and see if I can find Rainbow and Fluttershy there. Remember..." Twilight narrowed her eyes and roughly poked Pinkie in the chest. "...keep this mission between us and the girls. No blabbermouthing. Got it?"

To keep her word, Pinkie Pie zipped her hoof across her mouth as if she was closing a zipper, a serious expression given before the serious scowl turned into a cheerful smile. 

With much done, Pinkie Pie bounced up and turned to the opposite direction and trotted off to the outskirts of Ponyville, singing a jovial, pointless tune. Twilight rolled her eyes. This was a mission that was supposed to be taken seriously, but it was obvious that Pinkie Pie didn't take it that seriously. She would never understand how Pinkie Pie would smile while the fate of Equestria stood on the brink of an upcoming crisis. After shaking her head, Twilight levitated Spike from the dirt upside down, the dragon spitting out earth soil from his mouth.

"Spike, this is no time to be playing in the dirt," Twilight mildly scolded, placing Spike face-up on her back. "Come on, we need to get to Rainbow Dash and Fluttershy before the chariots arrive. You might want to hold on tight, though. This is gonna be a bumpy ride." 

Twilight unfurled her wings and positioned herself in a ready flying stance. Spike wasn't done spitting most of the dirt from his mouth before Twilight shook her flank, building enough speed for her takeoff. "Wait a minute, Twilight. I'm not ready to flyyyyYYYYIIIIIIEEEEEE!"

Before Spike could finish his sentence, Twilight took off to the sky like a rocket, leaving behind a magenta contrail. At the speed of Mach Five, Twilight zoomed through the skies in the direction towards Cloudsdale with Spike hanging on to her back for dear life as his stomach began to churn from the high speeds. With the hands of time not on her side, Twilight had to make her visit to Cloudsdale short and quick before the chariots taking her and her friends to their next destination arrived.