Mailpony Rules
Chapter 9
Ditzy was no stranger to being woken up by the sun. Many a morning had began with her waking up to the feeling of dappled sunlight on her eyelids. However, instead of gentle dots of light on her face, this time she felt like her eyes were being attacked with spears of horrible blinding pain.
Aaaaaaaaaaaaa! she thought, reaching up to cover her face with her hooves. When she tried, though, she felt her movements restricted by an unknown obstacle. Something warm and fuzzy. Worried, Ditzy tried to open her eyes, only to get a metaphorical slap in the face from Celestia as she realized her face was pointing directly towards the uncovered window. Groaning, she resigned herself to being blind until her head stopped throbbing.
Once her frontal lobe stopped trying to tunnel its way out of her skull, the mare finally managed to pry her eyelids open. With the sunlight still in her face, she had to squint in order to see anything beyond the blinding white light. Through her half-lidded eyes, she managed to glimpse a blurry gray form laying in front of her. Her front legs were currently wrapped around it, and she could feel warmth emanating from its surface.
Before her hazy brain could puzzle its way through what this mysterious object is, it suddenly moved. From the end nearest her head, a long appendage rose, bringing with it a blur of something blue. With slow and deliberate movements, it slowly rotated, until the top end was right in front of her face. It blinked.
Oh. It was Tempest. And they were... Oh.
Tempest seemed to realize this at the same point as her. "This is... the second most awkward position we could have woken up in."
Ditzy, laying on her side, currently had her front legs wrapped around Tempest's torso. Currently, her face was scant few inches from his own, and she could feel his wings digging into her abdomen. Their hips were uncomfortably close to each others', causing the already warm feeling of sleeping close to rise to very unpleasant levels.
After untangling themselves from their awkward spooning, both ponies stoop across from the other, looking anywhere but themselves. Eventually, Ditzy spoke.
"Never leaves this room?"
"Agreed."
With that, Ditzy sat herself down on the bed, grimacing and rubbing her temples. Embarrassed or no, she still had a killer of a migraine, not to mention her mouth was as dry as the desert outside. Seeing this, Tempest walked off into the bathroom. He returned a moment later, toting a large glass of water.
"Here," he suggested. "Drink this."
Eying the cup suspiciously, as if it would attack her, the mare gingerly took it in her hooves. Bringing it to her mouth, she tilted it back, and almost fainted with relief when the cool liquid washed over her swollen, dry tongue. Quickly, she began gulping it down, since she had literally eaten a large amount of salt and not drunk anything for several hours. There is no possible analogy that is more fitting than that truth.
"Hey, slow down," Tempest warned. "You'll make yourself sick."
Reluctantly, Ditzy slowed her frenzied gulping to a pace less reminiscent of a fire-hose in reverse. After four more glasses, the mare's thirst finally abated. Her pounding migraine had been reduced to a dull throb, and she no longer felt like she was about to cough up sand.
"Thanks," she told Tempest, getting up off the bed.
"I told you not to go overboard," said the stallion in a mocking tone. "You're lucky I stopped you when I did; any more and you'd be vomiting."
"Yes, yes," admitted the mare, looking annoyed. "I'm sorry. You can quit rubbing it in."
Tempest chuckled, much to the Ditzy's chagrin. "Maybe later. How about we go get breakfast? We'll want to start off early."
At the mention of food, Ditzy perked up. Nodding, she began stretching her stiff muscles. When she extended her wings, however, she winced and immediately pulled back her left. Tempest noticed.
"That's the second time you've done that," he accused.
"It's fine," she insisted. "It's just a little bruise."
"Little things lead to big problems," countered Tempest. "We should get it looked at before we leave."
Ditzy sensed he wasn't going to give. "Fine," she conceded. "But can we do it after breakfast? I'm starving." As if in agreement, her stomach gave off a loud growl.
Tempest nodded. "Deal. Now, come on; breakfast is complementary."
~~~
Nervously, Ditzy sat on the examination table, trying to pass the time by twiddling her hooves. The doctor had come and gone, taking with him a few magic images of the inside of her wing. Close by, Tempest sat reading a magazine as old as he was, completely uninterested in whatever out-of-date gossip it was dribbling. The table next to him was covered with similar magazines, all old and most stained with some unidentifiable liquid. Bored with fidgeting, Ditzy instead began scanning the clean, white interior of the room for something interesting. Eventually, here mismatched eyes settled on a chart, helpfully labeled 'How Much Does It Hurt?'. On it, there were five pictures of a pony's face, with multiples of two up to ten beneath them. The faces ranged from happily smiling to an exaggerated frown with teary eyes.
That's a stupid pain scale, thought Ditzy. It doesn't even have all the numbers. And who smiles when they're in any amount of pain?
She was distracting herself, and she knew it. Despite her calm, bored expression, she was actually very worried. Since the confrontation in the hotel room, she had tried opening her wings several times. The results had been consistent: each attempt resulted in a lance of pain, followed by a quick withdrawal to her side. While she was loathe to admit it, she was starting to think that she might be more injured than she originally thought.
That didn't stop her from trying to ignore it, though. "Why do doctors always put posters and stuff in the rooms?" she asked.
Tempest looked up from his colorful rag. "Probably to make it feel less like a cell, I suppose," he surmised. Nodding towards one such picture, this one featuring a multitude of colorful kittens, he continued. "They might help calm ponies down, too. I mean, foals like animals, right?"
"Yeah, but what if they form weird mental connections?" Ditzy added. "Like, what would they do if foals started associating cute animals with needles?"
"In all my years, I have never seen somepony learn to associate puppies and stabbing pain," went a new voice. Unbeknownst to Ditzy and Tempest, the doctor had walked back into the room while the two were arguing. The doctor, whose name-tag helpfully identified as 'Doctor Makewell,' looked surprisingly unprofessional for one of the medical vocation. His white coat was, of course, clean, but it looked like little other grooming had been done. What mane peeked out from under his hat (an odd combination of ten-gallon and head-lamp) looked brown and unkempt. Despite his grungy appearance, however, the seriousness of his appearance was increased immensely by his lab coat and the clipboard floating in front of his face.
Looking closely at said clipboard, Makewell spoke. "Well, Miss Doo, it appears I have some good news and some bad news."
That didn't sound good. "What's the bad news?" the mare asked tentatively.
"It appears you have sprained your wing. You are, effectively, grounded until it heals."
This was very bad. "And the good news?" Ditzy was silently hoping that he would reveal some magic device that would make 'until it heals' mean 'for the next ten minutes.'
"The good news is that it is a relatively minor sprain. You should be airborne again in about three days."
"Three days!?" shouted Ditzy. "No nonono, I need to get home tonight!"
Doctor Makewell seemed taken aback by this sudden outburst. "Well, if it's that urgent, you can probably take the train..."
"The train takes too long! I won't get there until tomorrow!" By this point, Ditzy was hyperventilating. She had promised Dinky she would be home today. Not the next day, not in four days, this day. And now she was being told she couldn't, that she was going to have to break her promise to her daughter and come home later than she had swore.
Turning her frantic emotions on the doctor, Ditzy glared at him. "There has to be a way to get to Ponyville by nightfall! You're a doctor; you know things! How do I do it?"
Faced with a manic mare, Doctor Makewell was feeling more than a little uncomfortable. In fact, he was feeling downright scared. "Erm, I-I'm sorry, miss. The t-train is the fastest way out of town by land. The only other way is by air, and you, um, c-can't fly."
Ditzy violently shook her head. "Nonononono," she gibbered. "There has to be another way! There's no way I'm going to disappoint Dinky!"
Tempest, who had been sitting quietly, sat up. Tapping the frightened doctor on the shoulder, the stallion looked at him with a determined face.
"What are those cloth things called?" he asked seriously. "The ones you carry injured ponies around on?"
Makewell looked confused. First we was being verbally accosted by a frantic mare, and now he was being asked for the names of hospital implements? It wasn't even noon! "...Stretchers?"
Tempest nodded. "Yes. Those. How much do they weigh?"
~~~
"That's your plan!?"
Pulling on a rope, Tempest nodded. Satisfied that the knot was secure, the stallion began tying the other end of the rope to one of the poles of his recently-purchased stretcher.
Ditzy shook her head in disbelief. "This is insane."
Before them lie a small pile of ropes and a cloth stretcher. Snaking out from the tangled clump, four pieces of rope were tied around each of the corners of the rectangular device in a series of complicated knots. On the other side of the fibrous thorn-bush sat Tempest, expertly tying a third piece of rope to his own body. Currently, two others were wrapped around his torso in a harness-like fashion. Anyone watching would think that the stallion was tying himself to a stretcher. Of course, they would be exactly right.
Tempest either didn't hear her or purposely refused to acknowledge her protest. "Hey, can you help me with this? The last one is always the hardest."
The mare looked at him incredulously. "No!" she said. "No, I will not help you! This is crazy! You cannot possibly think you can carry me all the way back to Ponyville!"
"I can, and I will." Seeing the mare wasn't going to help, Tempest instead began re-checking the knots on the stretcher. "Don't worry, I won't drop you. I know what I'm doing."
"It's not about that!" the mare protested, though she wasn't too keen about plummeting to her death either. "I didn't spend all that time recuperating you just for you to go and injure yourself again on some heroic stunt!"
"That's exactly why I'm doing this," Tempest countered, looking up from his knots. "You helped me when I was hurt, and now it's my turn. It's like a cruel twist of fate or something." Turning around, the stallion again presented his untied harness. "Now, are you going to help or not?"
Ditzy hesitated. Even though she was disinclined to allow Tempest to airlift her all the way home, her will to resist was waning; she wanted to disappoint Dinky even less.
"Fine," she conceded, walking over. "But I'm not going to enjoy it."
Tempest grunted as Ditzy finished the knot. "I don't expect you to."
~~~
For the third time in as many minutes, Ditzy felt her stomach heave as the airborne gurney gave another sickening lurch. Fighting hard to keep still, the mare pulled her legs in closer to her body. This ride was far from pleasant. With every jostle, Ditzy fear that she was about to tumble over the side and end up as a meaty splatter. She trusted Tempest completely, of course, but it was impossible to repress the sudden, intense terror that comes with the threat of possible death.
"How you holding up down there?"
Looking upwards, Ditzy squinted as the midday sun shone right in her eyes. "Shouldn't I be asking you that?"
"If I wasn't holding up, we'd have crashed."
Ditzy contemplated this. "Point taken."
As they lapsed into silence, Ditzy distracted herself by looking at the scenery. It truly was a beautiful sight; the sun almost directly overhead painted everything in rich contrast. Rocks worn smooth by desert wind gleamed brightly, shining like broken glass embedded in the sand. Red cliffs cast deep, dark shadows beneath the slightest overhang, making the surrounding stone look like it had been carved in the style of a patchwork quilt. Desert scrub dotted the barren landscape, breaking up the plain of dry, cracked mud. Looking ahead, she could see the ridge of tall hills that was the land-bound train's main obstacle. They were fast approaching, and, looking below, Ditzy could see the first small foothills that would lead up to the peaks.
Realizing how far they had gone, Ditzy looked up. "You should rest!" she called. "It's been a while since you stopped!"
Tempest grunted, wiping the sweat out of his eyes. "I can keep going! It's fine!"
Ditzy frowned. "No. If you keep going, you're going to exhaust yourself. We need to stop for lunch, at least."
"But-"
"No buts! I'm not going to let you hurt yourself on my behalf!"
"...Can we at least wait until we get to the mountains?" the stallion asked. Feeling pressured for time, he was reluctant to stop for any reason, and was seeking to extend his flight by any length.
Fortunately, Ditzy accepted the compromise. "Deal," she agreed. "But then you're going to rest if I have to hold you down."
Several minutes later, the pair were set up on a relatively-flat ledge, looking out over the scenery. The shade provided was a great boon, blocking the oppressive heat of the sun and making their resting place infinitely more comfortable. Currently, they were set up on a small blanket, eating a small, bland lunch.
After being scolded by Ditzy and nearly choking, Tempest had stopped wolfing down his food and was now eating at a slightly more reasonable pace. Even as he swallowed his tasteless sandwich, though, he couldn't help but notice that Ditzy was acting peculiar. The mare kept tapping her hoof on the ground and fidgeting, seemingly unable to sit still. She also regularly glanced up at the horizon in the general direction that Ponyville lied. Well, one eye did; the other remained rebelliously fixed on the ground. Those well-versed in the art of body reading would immediately recognize these signs as a manifestation of a feeling of impatience or a desire to get moving, possibly due to time constraints or a limited window of opportunity.
Tempest wasn't well-versed in the art of body reading.
"Something wrong?" he said, mumbling around the food in his mouth.
Looking over at him, Ditzy sighed. "Sorry," she apologized, "I'm just worried that we won't get there in time."
Tempest contemplated his sandwich, wondering if he could fit the rest into his mouth at once. "We can get going now, if you'd like."
"No, no" protested Ditzy, shaking her head. "You need more time. If you collapse from exhaustion, neither of us will be able to get out of here."
The stallion snorted. "I'm hardly about to faint," he argued. "Anyways, why do you want me to sit here if you're worried about making it home?"
Ditzy rubbed the bridge of her nose. "I'm torn, okay?" she answered, sounding frustrated. "I want to get to Dinky as soon as possible. I mean, you saw what she did before she left, right?" Tempest nodded, though Ditzy wasn't looking. "How could I disappoint her after that? I just... can't." She stomped her hoof. "But I also can't stand to see you hurt yourself trying to rush me home."
Brief angry spark subsiding, Ditzy sat back down, tracing circles in the dirt. "It feels like I'm freezing to death, but the only thing I have to make a campfire is a flamethrower." Chuckling, she added. "Or Dinky."
Tempest blinked. "That's... a colorful metaphor."
"It wasn't a metaphor."
The stallion rolled his eyes. "Analogue, then. Whatever." Leaving no time for Ditzy to correct him again, he shoved the remains of his sandwich in his mouth and stood up. "If it makes you feel better, we're making great time. We'll make it just before sundown at this rate, assuming nothing pops up."
"After this is over, I'm never getting hurt again," Ditzy grumbled. "I hate feeling so helpless."
As soon as she finished speaking, both ponies felt the wind pick up. Out of instinct, Tempest put his nose in the air and felt the tug on his mane. He smiled.
"Look," he said, smiling. "Now the wind's blowing our way! I guess even the weather wants you to get home on time."
Ditzy shivered. "As great as that is, does it feel cold to you?."
~~~
"Hey! I think I can see Ponyville!"
"Really!?" Excited, Ditzy rose up as far as she dared. Craning her neck, she managed to see a colorful smudge on the horizon. "I see it!"
"We'll be there in no time!" Tempest announced enthusiastically.
As they drew closer, however, the two ponies noticed something strange. Above the motley blob of Ponyville, a dark shape was gathering. At first, it was just a few wisps of gray cloud, like something a lazy weatherpony might leave around. Over time, though, the wisps grew larger, darker, and more numerous. Eventually, the myriad spots coalesced into one large, imposing wall. Something that both pegasi immediately recognized.
"Storm," growled Tempest.
"What?" gasped Ditzy. "No! We're so close!"
The stallion sniffed the air, trying to gauge how far off the storm was. How he used his nose for this is anypony's guess. "It looks like we still have some time before we hit it. We can keep flying until then."
"Ooh, I hope we can get close," Ditzy mumbled.
~~~
Suddenly, Dinky looked up from the table. Sparkler, noticing her cousin's movement, glanced up from her plate. Swallowing, she spoke.
"Something wrong, Dinky?"
The filly glanced suspiciously at the ceiling. "Mama just tempted fate."
~~~
They were ten minutes from Ponyville when the first winds struck.
Like a bull with a face made of hammers, the first gust took them by surprise with incredible force. Tempest was blindsided by the sudden wave of air, and was flung a full meter to the side before he managed to recover. Ditzy, with even less control over her momentum, merely held on for dear life as her stretcher pitched to the side, pulling Tempest off-balance again.
"I-I think it's time to land!" the mare cried, legs latched onto the sides of the gurney hard enough to bend the wood.
"You think!?" was Tempest's only answer. Struggling against the torrential sea of winds, the stallion fought his was downwards, inch by agonizing inch. Up ahead, the rain curtain drew ever-closer, tailwind pushing them towards it faster than either pony appreciated.
"This thing isn't going to snap, right?" Ditzy yelled, confidence shaken.
Tempest shook his head. When his brain kicked back in, he yelled back. "Don't worry! Those knots are as strong as steel!"
Well, he was right.
With a lurch, Ditzy felt one corner of the stretcher drop. Heart beating a tattoo on her ribcage, she threw a panicked glance upwards. What she saw made her entire body freeze in dread.
"Tempest!" Hearing his name, the stallion looked down. "The rope!"
The rope, specifically the rope on the front left, was fraying. While the knots on either end of it remained perfectly secure, the center of the rope was unraveling, threatening to break at any moment.
Tempest felt his heart leap into his throat. Without giving himself time to think, he dove downwards. As he descended, racing the rope, he yelled.
"JUMP!"
With strength born of desperation, Ditzy bunched her legs beneath her and leapt. Time seemed to slow down as everything came into sharp focus. The first sparse raindrops glimmered on their way down. The last few strand of rope, unable to bear the mare's thrust, broke with an audible snap. Tempest's terrified face neatly mirroring Ditzy's own, albeit with less crossed eyes. Closer and closer they drew, hooves nearly touching, until...
THUD
With a wince-worthy impact, the ponies collided. Thinking quickly, Ditzy threw her front legs around Tempest's neck, holding on with all her might. Using the rest of her momentum, she swung her lower body upwards and gripped the stallion's waist. Tempest, in a similar motion, grabbed onto Ditzy.
No sooner than the mare secured herself than Tempest was nearly pulled out of the air by the stretcher. No longer held by all four ropes, it hung sideways, catching the wind like a sail and yanking the stallion around like an anchor. Tempest immediately set about trying to unattach it.
One of the unfortunate side-effects of tying really good knots is that they are really hard to undo in an emergency. Tempest quickly found this out as he attempted to remove the ropes from his rear legs. With the luxury of being able to stop and look denied to him, the stallion's only option was to blindly scratch where he thought the one bit of rope that would release the knot was located. Fortune must have smiled upon him, though, for his vague flailings quickly caught the loose end. Pulling on it, he was rewarded with the wonderful feeling of rough hemp sliding off his leg.
Unfortunately, the leg he had managed to free turned out to be his left leg. Once the stretcher dropped, Tempest immediately noticed that having the entire contraption's weight on one side made balancing very difficult. He lurched to the side, eliciting a terrified squeak from Ditzy, and winced as he had to wrench himself back into position.
It seemed that fate had decided that inconveniencing Tempest was much more fun helping him, as the moment he righted himself the rain hit in earnest. With the rain came the winds, and the stretcher began being tossed about like a beachball at a sports game. Tempest's right legs were yanked outwards with a powerful gust of wind. Grimacing, he yanked back and, to his surprise, felt the we rope around his back leg snap. At this point, the stallion wasn't sure if he should be angry at that Appleoosan vendor for selling him a shoddy rope, or thanking his lucky stars for the existence of poor merchandise.
With three of the tethers gone, all of the stretcher's weight was focused on Tempest's front right leg. The unbalanced force was proving very hard to fly with, and Tempest felt himself losing control of his flight. With his lack of precognition, the stallion had tied his upper body in a more complex fashion than his lower, which, in any other circumstance, would have been a beneficial choice. Here, however, it just meant that he couldn't rely on the wind snapping the rope, or being able to slip the thing off like a coat that was pulling his and Ditzy to their deaths. Thinking on his hooves (sort of), Tempest formulated a plan.
"Ditzy!" he said, shouting to be heard over the wind. "I need you to do something!"
"What!?" she yelled back, well-deserved panic seeping into her voice. With their current position, Ditzy's forelegs were wrapped around Tempest's neck, and her head was curled tight behind his.
"On my back, there are two ropes! I need you to bite through the nearest one!" Tempest felt his leg be nearly pulled out of its socket by a strong gust of wind. "And hurry!"
With something other than directionless terror to focus on, Ditzy quickly set about her task. Through the rain and mist, her uncooperative eyes sought out the rope scant inches from her face. With a voracity more common to predators, the mare ferociously began chewing at the fibers with her blunt equine teeth.
It was slow going, but the rope eventually gave way. With a final snap, the entire rigging fell away, plummeting to the ground far below. Hopefully no one was there.
"Got it!" Ditzy needlessly cried. "Can you go down now, please?"
No longer being whipped about like a child's plaything, Tempest finally tilted his wings downwards. Relief flowed through his veins as images of being safe on the ground appeared in his head. These images were quickly shattered as he felt the air around him grow noticeably warmer, and he began rising.
"Son of a Nightmare!" he swore. "Updraft!"
This was the worst thing that could have happened. Buoyed by the rising air, Tempest had no choice but to float upwards. While he could ordinarily shear through the warm column like a bear through a playpen, with a passenger clinging to his chest his maneuverability was somewhat limited.
"Why are we going up!?" yelled Ditzy, panicking. "We need to be going down! Down is safe! Why aren't you going down?"
"I can't," grunted Tempest, bracing himself.
"What do you mean you can't? Isn't your special talent flying through storms?"
"It is," confirmed Tempest. Suddenly, he felt it. His cue: the tell-tale brush of cold air across his scalp. "Now hold on."
With that, the pegasi streaked forward like a cannon shot. The updraft had lead right into a slipstream, and now Tempest was shooting through the air, mane blown back and Ditzy clinging to his chest, wondering why everything seemed to hate her today.
Holding onto the wild air currents in slipstream is not easy feat in the best of circumstances. With a passenger and a raging storm around him, Tempest knew he wouldn't be able to ride the ferocious gale for much longer; already he could feel the air around his wings fraying as the river of wind began to try and spit him out like a watermelon seed. The threat of violent eviction in the forefront of his mind, Tempest closed his eyes and concentrated.
"Anytime you want to do the whole 'special talent' thing is good!" Ditzy shouted, eyes closed for a completely different reason.
For a few horribly long seconds, Tempest was flying blind. The wind whistled past his ears, howling a threatening cadence. Invisible bits of debris scraped past his face. Rain lashed both ponies, weighing them down like a thick carpet flung over their shoulders. Far below, trees bashed and swayed in the blowing gale. Tempest opened his eyes.
More importantly, he opened his mind.
With new vision, the stallion examined his surroundings. Invisible eddies suddenly shown as bright as starlight. Great waves of wind crested and collapsed like a transparent ocean. Huge storm clouds were painted in various colors, forming a complex pattern that was both invisible and meaningless to anyone but Tempest. Everything was suddenly clear.
Finally, thought Tempest. I was beginning to think I'd never do this again.
"Hold on!" he shouted to Ditzy.
"Gee, thanks! What do you think I'm doooiiiiiiiiiiiiiii-!" The mare's sarcasm was cut off by mortal terror.
Diving and weaving, Tempest flew through the air like a well-oiled machine. No movement was wasted; every dip, dash, and duck helped move him and his passenger forward in some way. Briefly dipping into a fast-moving current, he used the added momentum to burst through a particularly turbulent patch of air. A sudden aileron roll helped the stallion to avoid a collision with a rising air column by a hair's breadth. To an outsider, it looked as if Tempest knew exactly where everything in this system was; like he had been born to fly through this storm system alone.
In reality, Tempest was having a panic attack.
Oh no, oh no, big gust coming on the left. Where can I go? Down? No, too rough. Up, then. Is there a- there's an updraft! Gogogo!
Tempest shot into the updraft and catapulted himself over the threatening mass of air.
Oh Celestia I feel so off-balance! I am never flying with somepony else on my chest again! Alright, focus, focus. What's next? Big jetstream at two o' clock. Can't go left or right. Mother of-! Baggywrinkles! BAGGYWRINKLES!
"Is this a bad time to admit I'm terrified?" yelled Ditzy, legs sore from resisting gravity.
"Not at all," replied Tempest, diving. "I am too."
"That doesn't make me feel better!"
Slowly but surely, Tempest was losing his edge. The strain of carrying another pony was making him sloppy. His wingbeats were becoming irregular, and more than once he was coshed on the side of the head by a gust he had failed to dodge. As his falters grew more and more frequent, Tempest began to search for somewhere he could land, struggling to look past the rain. With the wind whipping at his face more fiercely with every passing moment, he resigned himself for an "emergency" landing.
I have to be near the edge of Ponyville, he thought. There has to be something soft to aim for, like a pond or a compost heap or-
There. Blurred by the rain, a vague red shape appeared. Large, imposing, and edged with what was probably white, it was unmistakeable. A barn. And where there were barns, there was...
"Hang on!" yelled Tempest. Putting on a last, desperate burst of speed, the stallion tucked in his wings and curled up in a ball, Ditzy at the terrified center. Like a meteor, the two pegasi rocketed towards the ground, wind howling around them, Tempest turning in midair so his back was facing forwards. Down, down they fell, closer to the ground with impossible slowness, headed right towards...
*FWUMP*
...A large pile of hay.
Shaking off the impact, Ditzy quickly pulled her way to the open air. Once free of the straw's wet grip, the mare began batting the yellow stalks out of her mane, looking around for Tempest. She didn't have to wait long, as the stallion clawed his way to the surface mere feet from her, spitting out mouthfuls of the sodden crop on his way out. After Tempest had finished evacuating his esophagus of their makeshift landing pad, he frantically spun his head around, looking for the pony he had just ferried through a thunderstorm. Ditzy smirked opted not to say anything as the stallion spun a full 360 degrees, not noticing his target was directly in front of him. Once Tempest was done making a fool of himself, the two pegasis' eyes met. For a long moment, they held each other's gaze. Ditzy was the first to laugh, with Tempest close behind.
They both looked utterly ridiculous.
Once the hearty guffaws, tinged with large amounts of relief, had subsided, Ditzy lunged forward through the damp hay and wrapped Tempest in a tight hug. While perhaps a little uncomfortably reminiscent of the life-or-death grip that had been present a minute before, Tempest was no less eager to return it. Between the two of them, the hug conveyed two messages: "Thank you for saving my life," and "Let's never do that again."
Pulling back from the hug, Ditzy began shaking her mane free of straw and rain-water. Tempest closed his eyes and raised his foreleg to protect his face from the myriad water drops and twigs. After Ditzy was finished with her impromptu grooming, Tempest lowered his leg, only to hear the mare gasp. She had a panicked expression on her face, and looked ready to bolt.
"Dinky!" she exclaimed, before dashing off in the general direction of town.
Grasping her meaning, Tempest too leapt out of the pile. After shaking a few stray straws from some unsavory places, the stallion dashed off in hot pursuit.
~~~
Forlornly, Dinky stared out the window. Of course, with the torrential rain outside, her view was restricted to a few meters past the glass pane. With her chance of finding something outside minimal, the filly resorted to the age old game of racing raindrops down the outside of the window.
Just as Little Drip was about to make a comeback against Señor Surface-Tension, Sparkler crept up behind her little cousin.
"Dinky," she said, looking down at the smaller unicorn. "Are you alright?"
Abandoning her game, Dinky turned around. While she didn't say anything, the pensive look on her face was all the answer Sparkler needed.
Sighing, the mare knelt down to Dinky's level. "You're worried about Tempest and Ditzy, aren't you?"
Dinky nodded. " 'S raining," she mumbled. "They'll get all wet."
An idea flashed into Sparkler's head. Smiling, she nudged the filly's chest. "Yes, they will." Nodding toward her living room, she added, "Why don't you go start a fire so they can get all warm when they get here?"
Dinky gave a small smile. " 'Kay," she agreed, hopping off the windowsill.
As the filly trotted out of sight, something occurred to Sparkler. "In the fireplace!" she called. "The fire goes in the fireplace!"
Once Dinky was out of sight and hopefully not about to burn down her house, Sparkler's smile vanished. Taking her turn to look out the window, the mare spoke under her breath.
"Hurry up, you two. Dinky's worried about you guys."
As soon as she finished whispering, there was a loud thunk at her door. Sparkler stared at it in confusion, and after a few seconds the noise was accompanied by a series of rapid, softer knocks. Recognizing this as the universal cue to answer the door, the mare walked over and pulled the wooden portal open. Outside, she was greeted by a welcome sight.
Ditzy, hoof raised to knock again, was glaring at Tempest, who sat on the stoop rubbing his forehead. Both were soaked to the bone and covered in straw, and Ditzy had a sopping wet bandage covering one wing. All around them, rain poured down, Sparkler's canopy providing a small island of relative dryness in the downpour. Upon hearing the door open, Ditzy adjusted her gaze and saw Sparkler, looking both relieved and confused.
"We're here!" she announced. "Sorry we're late." Tempest, for his part, took this opportunity to shake himself dry, earning another glare from Ditzy.
"Come on in," ushered Sparkler, motioning with a hoof. "Dinky's in the living room."
As Ditzy took her turn to shake herself, Tempest walked in. After Ditzy followed moments later, Sparkler shut the door behind them.
"There's probably a fire in or near the fireplace," the unicorn said. "Why don't you two go warm up? I'll get some blankets." Without waiting for an answer, the mare walked away. Looking at each other, the ponies shared a simultaneous shrug and trotted into the parlour.
Miraculously, the fire was contained completely within the stone fireplace. Tasteful wooden decorations from a variety of cultures dotted the walls, giving an air of eclecticy to the room. White fabric couches filled one corner, and a well-used and over-stuffed chair occupied the other. A china cabinet filled with various colorful trinkets rested against the far wall, all manner of shiny baubles covering its various shelves. A quaint teak table sat in the middle of the room, covered in old newspapers, magazines, and adventure novels, along with quite a few empty beverage containers. In front of the fireplace rested a small brown rug, sticking out by virtue of its mundanity. On the soft, fireproof rug was Dinky.
Ditzy crept into the room. "Dinky?" she called softly.
"Mama?" responded a tired voice. Turning around, Dinky's eyes shot open at the sight of her mother, all trace of sleepiness gone. "Mama!"
With meteoric speeds, the filly hurled herself at her mother. For the first time that day, Ditzy found herself on the receiving end of a neck-based death-grip. And she couldn't be happier.
"I'm here, Muffin," she assuaged, tears adding a bit more moisture to her damp fur.
Noticing Tempest close behind, Dinky detached herself from her mother and gave Tempest a similar embrace. "Thanks," she whispered close to his ear.
Once she felt she had hugged both ponies sufficiently, Dinky stood in front of both of them. Upon noticing the bandage on Ditzy's wing, she gasped. "Mama! Your wing!"
Walking forwards, Ditzy nuzzled her daughter's head. "Don't worry, Muffin; it's just a scratch. I'll be better in a couple days."
Mid-nuzzle, Ditzy felt Dinky let out a small yawn. "Buuuuuut," the mare teased, "I think it's past somepony's bedtime."
Blearily, Dinky nodded. Trotting over to the fireplace, the filly set herself down on the cushy rug, quickly settling into a pattern of gentle snoring.
Smiling, Ditzy followed, curling herself around her daughter snugly. Upon noticing a distinct lack of sound, the mare opened one eye and saw Tempest standing in the doorway, unsure of what to do. Ditzy shuffled a little and raised a wing, beckoning him over. While initially hesitant, the stallion nonetheless took the invitation and came over, sitting down and curling up with the two.
Placing her head on top of Tempest's neck, Ditzy sighed contentedly. With her daughter safely snoring against her chest, she felt that all the troubles of the day had been worth it. With the combined effects of the warmth of the fire, their own body-heat, and their shared exhaustion, both Tempest and Ditzy soon fell asleep.
"I found the blan-" said Sparkler rather loudly, before cutting herself off. Near her head floated several thick wool blankets, wrapped in a purple aura. Looking into her living room, she spotted the pile of ponies in front of her fireplace. She covered he mouth with a hoof.
"That is the most adorable thing I've ever seen," she whispered. Silently, she floated one of the blankets over and threw it over all three ponies.
"Good night," the mare breathed, tiptoeing back to her room, a smile on her face.
~~~
"Do you really have to go?"
Glumly, Tempest nodded. Three days ago, he had woken up wrapped in a blanket next to Ditzy and Dinky. In a bizarre twist of fate, he had spent that time with them, making sure Ditzy didn't hurt her injured wing. Now that she was fully healed, however, whatever flimsy excuses for him to remain were gone. For the second time that week, two ponies found themselves in a farewell where neither wanted to leave.
"Hayton is where all my everything is," mumbled Tempest forlornly. "Whether I like it or not, I can't abandon my job." It sounded hollow, even to him.
"You'll come to visit, right?" Dinky piped up, looking at Tempest with big eyes.
Tempest bent down to her level. "Definitely. Next chance I get, I'm coming back. I don't care if I have to carry two fridges all the way here."
"Promise?"
"Promise."
Standing back up, the stallion was met by the golden eyes of Ditzy. The two stared at each other, trying to find words to express what they were thinking. Ditzy made up her mind first.
Lunging forward, the mare wrapped Tempest in a tight hug, which was quickly reciprocated. Holding tight, the ponies squeezed like they never wanted to let go. Which they didn't.
"I'm going to hold you to that too." Ditzy said.
"Go ahead," replied Tempest. "It would be harder to keep me away."
The two separated. Standing back at a more normal distance, Tempest smirked. "I think I might apply for a transfer."
Ditzy smiled. "Well, if you do, you know where to find us."
He nodded. "That I do. Goodbye."
"Goodbye."
With that, the stallion took off. Knowing that the longer he dawdled the harder it would be to leave, he wasted little time in turning around and flying off. With two sets of eyes on his back, Tempest flew away from Ponyville, against his best wishes.
"Mama?" quipped Dinky, once the stallion was little more than a speck above the trees. "He is coming back, right?"
For once, both of Ditzy's eyes were looking where she wanted them too. She took a deep breath. "He promised, didn't he? He doesn't strike me as the type to break a promise."
~~~