//------------------------------//
// Setting Up For the Oakville Acorn Festival 
// Story: Makeshift Heroes 
// by Biplane 
//------------------------------//

	On the far edge of Equestria lies a great, ancient oak forest, with trees as big around as houses, and a canopy that stretches almost unbroken for miles. Situated in this sea of trees, at the end of one of the more remote rail lines, is one of the most distant villages in Equestria: Oakville. Here, houses are as often carved directly into trees as they are built out of lumber, and when the acorns fall, they fall like rain. Just across the border is a mountain range too high even for pegasi to cross, and unexplored wilderness beyond.	

Despite its distance from Canterlot, it is a populous and calm village, without much of the frontier excitement normally found in border settlements. The ponies here make a conscious effort to be more "civilized" than the like of those who live in towns like Appleoosa.

All in all, it is a little piece of central Equestria, out here on the border in an ocean of green trees.

A good place, say, for an entertainer with a bad past to make a new start.

The home of a great flyer, who missed out on being a Wonderbolt, and never learned the lesson of why.

And, just recently, the final resting place of a broken-down contraption whose presence had been a plague to every town it had thus far visited: an apple-cider-making monstrosity on wheels.

And approaching this town under Celestia's sunset, tiny against the backdrop of vast Equestrian plains quickly beginning to give way to trees, is a train on a lonely set of tracks, a pony with a smokestack cutie mark at the engine controls, and a pony with a shovel cutie mark feeding the boiler fire. This is a royal train, decked out in Equestrian national regalia. And its cargo is Princess Twilight Sparkle.


. . .
 

"This is lame," Rainbow Dash said.

Rainbow Dash and her five best friends were sitting in a sleeper car on the outbound train from Ponyville. Rainbow stared glumly out the window at the passing scenery.

"Oh, Rainbow, don't be like that. This'll be fun! I've never been to Oakville before!" said Twilight Sparkle, who stared out the window at the passing scenery with interest. Twilight Sparkle was interested in everything.

"Well I have. There's nothing there. Why did the Princesses," she stopped, glancing sidelong at the still-recently-crowned Princess Twilight Sparkle, who was already looking annoyed, "I mean, uh, why did the other Princesses have to send us here? I've got training to do!"

Twilight rolled her eyes, affecting her most long-suffering look. "I've told you a million times, Rainbow, we're here representing the Princesses for the Acorn Festival. It's a very important event in this part of Equestria, and the Princesses visit every year. They just couldn't make it this time."

"I can't wait to see all the squirrels!" Fluttershy piped in in with quiet excitement, beaming. "This is a big time of the year for them, you know."

Applejack and Rarity, the farm-mare and the fashionista, were both finding themselves, meanwhile, in the somewhat uncommon position of both agreeing with Rainbow Dash.

"Ah hope this won't take too awful long, Twi'. Ah'm always happy to help, o' course, but it's just, applebuck season's comin' up, and there's a lot Ah gotta do ta get ready," Applejack drawled.

"...And though I'm positively certain that the fashions in Oakville will be exciting," Rarity continued, her voice clearly betraying she thought the opposite to be the case, "I simply must return to my orders before too long. My customers are being quite patient with me while I'm undertaking royal duties," she tossed her mane a bit there, plainly savoring the idea of having "royal duties" a bit more than necessary, "And I'd like to thank them for that by not having them wait too terribly long."

"Really, girls, it will be fine! We just put in an appearance on behalf of Princess Celestia, make sure everything goes off without a hitch, enjoy the food and go home! Nothing could be easier! It'll be fun!" Twilight said, trying to smile reassuringly, and not quite succeeding.

It seemed she was trying to convince herself more than anypony else, and it wasn’t working. She was plainly nervous. Her lip quivered a bit. Her voice broke a little, "I'm glad you're all here with me. I'm so nervous about this, I don't think I can tell you what it means to me to have you girls at my side," hints of tears were in Twilight's eyes, and hints of nervous anxiety were in her face.

Rainbow Dash sighed, then walked over to Twilight, patting her friend on the back. "Okay, okay, Egghead. No need to get sappy. We'd never leave you hangin', you know that."

Rarity and Applejack followed suit, each giving Twilight a reassuring hug. "We're here for ya, Twi'. All of us. Ain't nothin' can ever change that," said AJ.

"Indeed! Don't worry yourself, darling. You'll do splendidly!" Rarity said.

"Of course you will, Twilight. You’ll do wonderfully!" Fluttershy said, joining the group hug.

Pinkie Pie's hoof rolled off her bed, her mouth hanging open with a thin line of drool rolling down her cheek. She snored loudly. "Heh! Pinkie says the same goes for her!" Dash said, laughing.

Twilight felt better. Being in the middle of a big, huggy pile of friends went a long way to settling her nerves.

Zecora walked into the sleeper from the dining car, carrying an open bag of potato chips, munching on a few. She stopped mid-munch as she entered the sleeper and took in the pile of hugging ponies. She stared.

The pile of hugging ponies stared back. Awkward silence.

Zecora reached for a chip and popped it into her mouth. "...Seems I missed a thing or two. I don't remember a pony-pile when I left you," she said, smiling wryly.

Sheepishly, the huggy friends broke up into individual ponies, blushing a little bit. Pinkie's snores continued.

"They were trying to cheer me up," Twilight said, "I guess I'm pretty nervous about this whole 'first real big Princess gig' thing."

Zecora smiled, "You'd be a fool not to be, but you'll impress, trust me."

"Thanks, Zecora, and thanks for coming along! I wasn't sure if you'd want to or not."

"The pleasure is mine, Twilight! I love to see all the sights! Equestria's far places to me, are nothing short of opportunity! Exotic ingredients to be found, in strange trees and on strange ground. I must admit though Twilight, I'm not sure why I was invited tonight?" Zecora rhymed.

"I thought it might be good for a zebra like you to see more of Equestria. Plus, I would be doing Ponyville a grave disservice if I didn't give its finest alchemist an opportunity to collect some ingredients!" Twilight said, "Plus plus, you're my friend too, and I'm really happy to have your support," she finished, blushing a little bit at the, as Rainbow might put it, "sappiness."

Zecora smiled widely. She felt a bit of a lump in her throat at Twilight's last statement. "It makes me so glad to have friends, it used to be that I was left to my own ends. I'm proud to know you, Twilight, but it's a bit late, so," Zecora yawned, "Goodnight."


. . .


"Trixie doesn't believe this!" Trixie said, throwing her hooves up in the air. Trixie could not believe this, if you can believe it. "The stage is a mess! How can Trixie put on a show worthy of Princess Celestia if the stage looks like this?!" It was true, there were streamers and spent fireworks on the stage, and garbage under the audience benches.

"Sorry, Trixie, but we haven't got enough ponies to go around," said Mayor Flax apologetically. He was a flaxen-colored (appropriate, no?) earth pony with a distinguished silver mane and tail. At the moment, he was looking disheveled and run down. Organizing an entire town to prepare a festival for royalty was hard work, and while he'd always been kind to Trixie since she had come here, he didn't have time for this right now. "You'll have to clean it up yourself. I'll be sure and send you some help as soon as we have some ponies free, but I don't expect that to be for a while."

"Clean it up myself?!" Trixie shouted. "But... but Trixie is the main performer! You expect Trixie to..." Trixie cut herself off. New town, new life, she reminded herself. "I'm... I'm sorry, Mayor, you're right. I'll get started."

Mayor Flax smiled reassuringly, “Thanks, Trixie. I promise I’ll get you some help as soon as I can find it. You may be new here, but your shows have been a wonderful addition to the town. I’ll do everything I can to show our gratitude. I don’t intend to leave you ‘hanging,’ as the young ponies say these days.” Trixie resisted the urge to roll her eyes. The mayor labored under the delusion that he was “hip.” It was endearing, but occasionally cringe-inducing. Though she was honestly a bit touched that the town thought so much of her after just a few months. Of course... expressing such emotions did not come naturally to her.

The mayor looked at his clipboard, muttered something about “squirrel parade,” and promptly ran off. Oakville was kind of a weird town.

Having finally given up on the wagon after the... what was it? third? fourth? one had exploded in a ball of fire over the Everfree Forest (a long story, don’t ask), Trixie had opted to establish a permanent stage here in Oakville. She’d set it up some distance outside of town, where the woods were a little bit thinner. The stage appeared very simple, but hid a mechanically complex setup. It consisted of a wide, somewhat plain wooden stage, framed by two rows of red velvet curtains, bordered on all sides by complex fireworks launchers, and which housed underneath it a series of trap-doors and secret passages. In front of the stage were about twenty rows of benches, arranged on a slight incline so that ponies sitting in the back would be able to see over those sitting in front of them.

Under the stage were the many illusionary tools of her own design: a table she could use to “saw ponies in half,” tables of collapsable swords with which she might seemingly horribly skewer an unsuspecting audience volunteer, her “escape artist” collection of not-quite-regulation strait-jackets, and most impressive of all, her prized design: the “Wheel of Illusion.” 

She lived in a large tent (blue and purple, with stars on it, of course) set up behind the stage, though she hoped she might find better accomodations soon, she had nearly earned enough money to purchase a home, and had become nearly comfortable enough here to do so.

The various tricks and trapdoors were controlled by a series of levers situated underneath the stage, which Trixie could use her telekinesis to pull during the show. In truth, Trixie knew only a few actual magic spells here and there. She really was no great user of magic, so she made up for it in showmareship and ingenuity.

Though, of course, she had managed many great and powerful feats under the sway of the evil Alicorn Amulet, which had given her such a rush that the memory of it both excited and terrified her to this day. And for some inexplicable, bizarre reason it had given her at the time a massive distrust of... wheels? Trixie didn't understand it herself. Still, the Amulet was a mistake, and a big one. It haunted her nightmares, and she always wondered how much of how she had acted under its sway had been the Amulet, and how much of it had been her. She was afraid to know the answer.

Since moving to Oakville, where nopony had known her past, after another particularly embarrassing and unpleasant experience in Ponyville, Trixie had made an honest attempt to make up for past mistakes, and improve herself; to make herself into a better pony. She was having mixed results. She was still The Great and Powerful Trixie, after all. But at least there was effort, and progress. And at least her past couldn't find her all the way out here.

But after a couple of minutes of cleaning up her performance area, Trixie had had decidedly enough of it. Why, this work would be better suited to somepony far less valuable to the town's entertainment than she! And as luck would have it, she spied two lanky unicorn stallions ambling down the road past the stage, towards the town, levitating between them a single keg. They didn't look especially busy, or especially clever, so she called out to them, as sweetly as she knew how, "Hey! You two! How would you like to be in a magic show?"

The two turned, "Well, lookie here, brother o' mine, it's a magic show," said one, a tan pony with a bright red and white striped mane and tail. He was wearing a gaudy striped white and blue shirt, black bow tie and a straw hat. He looked and spoke exactly like a carnival barker.

"Why it surely is, brother o' mine, it surely is," said the other, identical save for a small red moustache on his upper lip.

"Yes. Yes. It's a magic show," Trixie said impatiently. Then, realizing that her biting, irritated tone was probably not going to win them over, she changed to what she thought was a more friendly one (not being an expert on such tones, it came out somewhere in the arrogant-condescending spectrum), "Oh, but if only Trixie had two clever, strapping stallions to help her get her stage ready for the show tonight! Why, Trixie could allow them to be part of her act, in front of Princess Celestia!" thinking quickly, Trixie added a winning eyebrow waggle at the end. Nailed it.

Smiling, and acting perfectly as if Trixie had not managed to make a complete mule of herself, the mustachioed unicorn turned to the other, "Say, Flim," he said, "Just the other day you were saying how you'd always wanted to be in a magic show, weren't you?"

"I was, Flam!" said Flim, catching on almost immediately, "It's always been my dream to get up on stage in a magic act!"

Trixie tapped her forehooves together and grinned, successfully (but barely) resisting the urge to cackle evilly. Old habits can be hard to break, you see. These fools will clean this mess up for me, and all I have to do is saw them in half or something. This is the perfect plan. Trixie thought to herself.

She did not know who she was dealing with here.

Flim and Flam, for their part, had mastered a sort of facade of oblivious excitement. It was one of the more sinister tools in their swindler arsenal that Trixie was unknowingly about to have unleashed upon her. "But brother," said Flam, his moustache twitching as his mouth turned into a seemingly thoughtful half-frown, "I don't see how we can find the time to clean the stage!"

"Shoot, that's right! The Mayor said we had to take this jug of cider to town hall! Why, there'd never be time to go there and back, AND clean up this lovely mare's stage!" Flim looked genuinely disheartened to be such a disappointment.

Ooo, lovely mare! Well, that’s true enough, Trixie reasoned. She was convinced: these were clearly ponies of excellent taste. Perhaps they weren't so dumb after all! "Oh, but my fine stallions! Trixie could take that little old barrel for you! Trixie would be delighted to help! It would be terrible to see your dreams of magic stardom dashed by a silly barrel of cider!"

Flim's eyes widened in a rather perfect imitation of awe, "Really, Miss Trixie? You'd do that for us?! Wow that is so... so very kind of you! Brother o' mine, let's help her, shall, we?"

"Why, of course, dear brother! Of course!" said Flam, moustache rising slightly as what resembled an excited, almost giddy smile broke underneath.

Hahaha, I take it back, these two are idiots! Though I must say, they do at least know know beauty when they see it, thought Trixie. "Thank you, er... Flim and Flam was it?"


. . .


The barrel was somewhat heavy, but one of the great things about being a unicorn was the wonderful telekinesis that came with the horn. Trixie barely broke a sweat during the trip, and got the barrel to its destination without much trouble after about a half-hour walk into town. 

Town Hall was bustling with activity. Rather like Twilight's library, the Town Hall of Oakville was a massive, ancient oak tree that had had a building carved into it. And it had never looked better. Decorations hung from the branches and from the windows and doors: bunting and streamers and tinsel and ribbons were everywhere. It looked fit for royalty, appropriately enough. About a dozen ponies were milling around outside Town Hall (Mayor Flax called it "The T.H.," because he thought he was "hip" like that), decorating and preparing the snack bar and setting up seating for the princess's big speech.

Trixie left the cider barrel (marked with a very faded "Flim & Flam's Cider" marking on the side) by one of the still-empty snack tables outside the main door to "The T.H." Turning around to head back, she stopped, and decided that she might as well have a sample of the stuff she'd brought such a long distance, first. It was only fair after all, she reasoned. Nopony would miss it, and she'd worked so hard!

Now, Trixie, on her travels, had once eaten garbage by mistake (it’s a long story, don’t ask), and it had been the single most vile thing that she had ever, ever tasted.

Until now.

Flim and Flam’s cider was an absolute revolution in the concept of vile. It was bilge. It was pond scum. It was a thousand textures, all of them variations on “slime.” It was all of these things and more. It was, to put a word to it, really quite bad.

Trixie spit her cider out on the ground, threw her mug on the ground, smashed it, then set fire to the remains with a flare of her magic. If she’d had any salt on her, she would have salted the earth.

Everypony working on town hall had stopped briefly to watch the display. Many of them decided right there not to try the cider.

Embarrassed and fuming, Trixie tried to regain her composure with an artful toss of her cape. Turning to stomp back up the road to her stage, her foot became tangled when a bit of her cape flew too far to one side, and she tumbled, head over hooves, into a heap on the side of the road.

A few chuckles here and there. A couple of stallions stopped what they were doing and moved to help her up. Nothing too serious. Could have been worse. Mostly just a bruised ego.

Nevertheless... Trixie’s ego was one of her most sensitive features.

Trixie’s cheeks burned as her face flushed, and she felt the beginnings of tears in her eyes. Biting her lip, fighting the tears, she got up and ran back down the road, leaving the surprised ponies at Town Hall feeling a little confused and guilty.

Don’t laugh at me! she thought furiously, her hooves pounding on the road. She could feel the traitorous tears break free and begin streaming down her cheeks as she ran past a number of confused ponies working on a roadside fence. She didn’t like this. Displaying weakness. Overreacting. It was neither Great, nor Powerful.

She ran until she reached her stage. Panting from the run, and struggling to regain her composure, she looked around, and noticed that the stage was still a complete mess. Maybe even a little worse than before. And there was no sign of Flim nor Flam.

She'd been had. They'd gotten her to do their job, and hadn't done hers in return. This did very little to improve her mood.

"What? Who would do something like this to Trixie?!" lamented the sobbing showmare, and she slumped to her haunches, alone, at the empty stage in the silent woods.


. . .


Lightning Dust bucked, kicking another rogue stormcloud out of the air. Weather Patrol in Oakville was easy. The entire town was under a heavy forest canopy, so they cared less than most towns did about their weather being “just so.” Of course, that meant that the weather team was correspondingly small, so when work did need to be done, there was enough of it to go around.

And nopony worked harder than Lightning Dust.

She was like a mare possessed. She worked with such driven focus and intensity and raw speed that she had been the only candidate suggested when it came time to vote for a new Weather Patrol Captain after Gull Wing retired. But she never paced herself. Many times she had worked herself dangerously close to exhaustion with long hours, or unnecessary extra work.

Lightning Dust didn’t really care about the Acorn Festival. Truthfully, she didn’t care about her work, either. She cared about being the best. No matter what she was doing, she wanted to be the best at it.

There was one other thing she had cared about, but that seemed like a lifetime ago. Something had gone wrong. They told her she wasn't good enough. She didn’t blame herself for it, of course. She was the best. She’d proven it again and again to herself, and to others. She kept on proving it.

She had had a poster on her wall, once. Autographed. It was of Spitfire, leading her Wonderbolts in a beautiful bomb-burst display. “Make your dreams come true. -Spitfire.” It had been her prized possession, and indeed it had become a sort of symbol to her of her goal in life. She wanted- no, she deserved to be a Wonderbolt.

The poster wasn’t there anymore.

Lightning Dust’s teeth gritted with... was it shame? embarrassment? disappointment? anger? ...whenever she thought of the day when Spitfire, the same pony who had signed her poster, the same pony who had told her to “Make her dreams come true,” the same pony who had inspired her to be who she was, had sent her away from Wonderbolts Academy, disgraced. “Too reckless.”

There was no such thing as “too reckless.”

Lightning Dust’s frown deepened. She tried not to think about that day. She tried to lose the memories in the now. She focused on her work. On being better. On proving how wrong they’d all been. She blasted through another cloud, her wings beating furiously, driving her onward. A yellow and teal lightning bolt streak trailed behind her.

Rainbow Dash had done this to her! I’m TWICE the flyer she is! Lightning Dust thought, angrily. I know why Spitfire listened to her! She’s buddies with Celestia! She saved the world! She won the Best Young Fliers’ Competition! YEAH, WELL I WOULD HAVE WON IF I’D BEEN THERE! I COULD HAVE SAVED EQUESTRIA! JUST BECAUSE I DON’T SPEND MY TIME PLAYING HOOVSIES WITH TWILIGHT SPARKLE DOESN’T MEAN I’M NOT THE BETTER FLIER!

“…That tree!” somepony was shouting at her. What now? Couldn’t they see she was trying to do her-

Lightning Dust slammed into the tree at an impressive velocity.

Was it a few minutes, or a few days before she opened her eyes, blinking away the haze? A fuzzy image of a pony was leaning over her, talking at her.

“Morm bum boo bahboi?” said the fuzzy pony image. It looked kind of like Mayor Flax, and it sounded kind of concerned.

“...Huh?” Lightning Dust shook her head, trying to clear it.

“I said, are you all right?” asked Mayor Flax. “You hit that tree pretty hard. I tried to warn you, but you were zoning out again.”

“Birds?” Lightning Dust grasped for words, her foggy mind finally grasping on the word for the sound she kept hearing. Yes. That was the sound. Birds. A rainbow of colorful birds, flying around her head.

Lightning Dust hated rainbows.

“No, there aren’t any birds around. They flew away when you slammed into the tree,” the mayor said, his brow furrowed. “You don’t look okay. I should go get a doctor.”

“No,” Lightning Dust said, pushing herself slowly to her hooves, “I’m alright.”

“Are you sure?” Mayor Flax wasn’t a pegasus, so he hadn’t had much experience with slamming into trees. Which, I mean, not that he was complaining. Seems like kind of a con to the whole "wings" thing, really.

“Yeah,” Lightning Dust shook herself off, fluffing her wings. “No big.”

“If you’re sure...”

“Have I ever been unsure about anything?” she said with a serious expression on her face.

Flax smiled, then laughed. “Not even once.” Well, she sure was acting like her usual self, at least. “Well, anyway, I was coming out here to check in and see how the weather was coming along, but it seems like you’re already almost done! You’re almost...” he checked his clipboard, “...Two hours ahead of schedule!”

“Yeah well, can’t have the princess getting rained on,” Lightning Dust said indifferently.

"Well, since you're so far ahead, would you mind helping Trixie get her stage ready for the show tonight? I'm sure she'd appreciate the help."

"Trixie?"

"Oh, you haven't met Trixie yet? Well, I suppose she has only been here a few months." That, and Lightning Dust did not spend too much time in town socializing. She was a bit too "intense" to attract much companionship. "You know the new stage outside of town?"

"Oh, yeah, I heard about it."

"That's hers."

"Okay, boss. On it." And she was gone, before Flax could even finish chatting.

"...Thank... you? Wow. That pony has got to learn to 'chill out' a bit. So serious!" And Flax wandered back into town, to see if those cider delivery ponies he'd met had arrived. They'd given him such a good deal!


. . .


Lightning Dust arrived at the stage to find it empty, and still pretty messy. Discarded trash everywhere, spent fireworks, oak leaves across the grounds... what had this "Trixie" been doing all this time?! "Hello?" she tried.

She heard a noise from the tent behind the stage. It may have been a sniffle. Lightning Dust landed and approached the tent slowly. She could hear somepony moving around inside. "Hello?" she said, once more, reaching for the tent flap.

Suddenly, a blue unicorn burst from the tent, clad in a cape and pointed hat. Lightning Dust gasped in surprise and almost fell backwards. "Greetings! The Great and Powerful Trixie welcomes you to her stage!" said the unicorn, rearing up on her hind legs and throwing her forehooves into the air.

Whoa. Uh. Okay. "Uh... yeah. The mayor sent me to help clean this place up. I'm Lightning Dust, the Weather Patrol Captain."

Trixie's brow furrowed a moment in thought. "I've heard of you. You're the pony that everypony around town says is 'reckless and unfriendly!'" Trixie smiled, proud of herself for having remembered. She still hadn't quite grasped that some things were never meant to be said to the pony they were said about.

Lightning Dust’s expression deepened into a frown. "Yeah, that's me," she said, barely above a growl. Then, impatiently, she barked, "So are we doing this or what? We haven't got much time and this place is a mess." Her wings fluffed in irritation.

Now it was Trixie's turn to frown. What did I say? "Yes, of course! Trixie desires help cleaning her dazzling stage! You would not believe how hard it is to find good help around here!”

Well, that was all Lightning Dust needed to hear. She didn’t waste any time. Step one: identify the problem: garbage under benches, debris and dust on the stage, fallen leaves everywhere. Step two: fix problem as quickly and with as much style as possible. In the space of a moment, Lightning Dust decided a small tornado would be ideal, and before Trixie had so much as a second to think or react, Lightning Dust was off the ground. Flaring her wings for a moment, while Trixie looked on with a confused expression, Lightning Dust started pumping her wings, whipping herself around in tight, ever-faster circles.

Almost before Trixie realized what Lightning Dust was doing, a tornado had already started to form.

“Wait!” Trixie tried to say. “Don’t! Trixie’s tent!” but her voice was drowned out by the roar of the wind.

The tornado did as intended: it picked up all of the spent fireworks debris, all of the garbage, all of the dust and leaves... and then Lightning Dust noticed the tent bending crazily in the wind, as the unicorn tried desperately to keep it intact and in place with her magic. “Oh. Oh! Whoops!” Lightning Dust said, and stopped. Beating her wings furiously, she tried to send the tornado away on a safe path with a few gusts.

At first, it looked like it was going to work, but just as the tornado began to leave the area, Trixie's poor tent bent sharply, and there was a tearing noise as the canvas was stretched past its limit. One of the tent poles was pulled out of the ground, and ripped a hole through another part of the canvas on its way out, shooting off after the tornado as it fled.

In its wake, the tornado left a sad, torn, slumping tent, and two heaving ponies. The sudden change in air pressure as the tornado left the area shook a large amount of leaves free from the surrounding oak trees, carpeting the area.

Lightning Dust looked around. That... hadn’t worked as she’d intended. Her eyes met the unicorn’s, and she felt a pang go through her heart.

Trixie stared at her home. What was left of it. The front entry flap had been torn completely off, and of the two front tent poles, the one that remained was bent almost back on itself, leaving the front half of the tent to slump over the torn hole where the entrance had once been. Her precious cape had been torn badly by the wind, leaving ragged edges, and a couple of the patched-on stars hanging half-off. Her hat was laying some thirty feet away in the dirt, almost completely covered by leaves.

Trixie looked back at Lightning Dust. She had enough pride to fight the tears, but she was too saddened to be truly angry. “I have a show to give tonight,” Trixie said, flatly.

“I... I’m so-”

“I have a show to give tonight!” Trixie shouted. “Princess Celestia herself is going to watch me perform! This is my chance to... what am I going to do now?!” Trixie must have been flustered indeed, for she was forgetting to refer to herself in the third person.

Lightning Dust looked pained, “I didn’t mean-”

“I don’t care! This tent and these clothes are all I own! What were you thinking?!”

“Look, I’ll help fix it! No more tornados! I’m still fast enough to clean-”

“No!” Trixie said, fighting to regain her composure, “No. Please, just leave Trixie alone. Trixie must... start getting ready for her show.”

“Are you sure...?” Lightning Dust said, not sure what else to say. Her whole body was stiff with embarrassment, and that was one of the worst feelings in the world for this particular pegasus pony. She felt incredibly stupid, and that was another.

“Just go. Now,” and Trixie used her telekinesis to lift the front half of the tent, bent her head down, and stepped underneath with as much dignity as she could muster.


. . .


Lightning Dust flew off, an annoyed and angry look etched into her features. What kind of idiot lives in a tent, anyway? Geez. And so what if it didn’t work! It was still worth a shot! I was trying to help! Some ponies were so ungrateful! In fact... all ponies were so ungrateful, come to think of it!

The thoughts running through her head were a defense, of sorts. Angry thoughts to block out the voice in her head that, today, was louder than usual. The voice that always said, “They’re right about you, you know. All of them.”

“Shut up!” Lightning Dust found herself saying out loud. “It isn’t my fault!”

“Reckless,” said the voice.

“Shut up!”

“Angry.”

“No! It’s not me! It’s everypony else!”

“A failure.”

That was the one. That was the one that did it.

It was a very good thing that the forest Oakville was located in was so large. The treetops stretched to the horizon in most directions. So it was easy to find a tall tree with a sturdy branch far, far away from where any other ponies could see, so that nopony could see the toughest, brashest, most confident, most abrasive pony in town break down.