Chapter Twenty-Four: Condolences
Chenoa squealed as Pinkie Pie swung her tail at the ball, lunging forth at the incoming object… and getting hit in the face. The chick halted briefly, but she laughed and batted back at the ball, unfazed from the gentle impact. Had Smokey seen it, it would’ve provoked his protective instincts. As of now, he was busied crushing the tomatoes and blending the ingredients for the sauce. Fluttershy, however, expressed prominent trepidation.
The equines exhaled on relieved sighs, having expected the baby to burst out crying. Giggling, Pinkie Pie bumped the ball back.
“Excuse me, Fluttershy,” Rarity began, her full attention on the addressed mare. “I had been mulling over something. Ever since I saw that sweet little chick yesterday, I was struck with inspiration! Perhaps developing a small line of clothing for little ones.”
The yellow pegasus entertained the idea of Chenoa wearing one of Rarity’s outfits… at least, until she witnessed the bundle of white cease playing with the ball and attempted to reach back at her diaper.
“It’s… a lovely idea, Rarity, but… Chenoa isn’t quite used to wearing anything yet. We just got her in the diaper. And…” She recessed, dragging her bandaged hoof across the floor. “I don’t want to force her to wear something she isn’t comfortable in.”
“Yeah,” Smokey agreed, lifting the wooden spoon out of the bowl. Scooping everything into a silver saucepan and setting the bowl aside, he tapped the spoon against the rim twice to allow the remnants drop. “Chenoa needs to get used to the diaper first.”
“And I had the most endearing idea for a onesie…” she cogitated, looking over the baby. “Then again, I’m not entirely sure how comfortable a onesie would be on her.”
“Maybe when she gets older--” Applejack thumped the nail one last time to completely drive it into the doorframe. “--she can wear one o’ those outfits Apple Bloom wears durin’ Zap Apple harvest! Them bunny costumes sure are sweet.”
“Maybe you can convince her to wear one for the Rainbow Egg Festival this spring,” Twilight Sparkle giggled.
“Who says it needs to be a holiday for her to wear something so adorable? Perhaps she could wear a brown bunny costume,” Smokey suggested, stirring the sauce. “She and Ross can be twins.”
“Ross?” Rainbow Dash inquired, turning her curious gaze to Fluttershy. After all, she had been with the dragon, and - for all she knew - , the pale colored pegasus must have known whoever this ‘Ross’ was.
“Oh, he’s Smokey’s bunny,” Fluttershy filled in, directing her gaze to the spot near the table where the rabbit and five doves were huddled.
“My, he’s absolutely adorable. Are those… are those doves?” Rarity asked. While she was sure of herself they were doves, she wanted to know if she was correct.
“Yes, they are. Pure white turtledoves. They are often used at weddings or magic shows.” Turning around to allow the sauce to simmer, he squatted by one of the cabinets to retrieve a deep dish pan from the bottom of a pile of similar - but smaller - pans. Ross seemed quiet embarrassed, yet flattered, at the compliment he received from the alabaster unicorn. The small brown leporidae elongated ears dropped as he lowered his gaze to the floor bashfully, a tiny tinge of pink blooming on his cheeks. The dragon couldn’t help but chuckle a bit at this. “Aww. Watch out for Ross, he’s a sucker for sweet talk.”
“’A sucker for sweet talk‘?” Rarity recurred. “That cannot be. He’s such a cute little bunny-wunny, yes he is.”
“He’s really sweet and cute.” Fluttershy gave an agreeing nod. “He can be bashful, unlike Angel.”
“Completely.” The unicorn’s smile fading as she fixated her deep blue eyes on her yellow friend. “Darling, I honestly don’t know HOW you can stand him at times. Celestia forbid, but I’ve seen him smack you during our pet play dates!”
“Smacked you?!” The ruby red reptilian almost dropped the pan in his hands. Placing it down on the counter abreast from the stove, he precipitated himself to the kitchenette’s perimeter, his sea green eyes wide in shock. “Your rabbit actually hit you?!”
Um, well--”
“He didn’t just SMACK her,” Rarity interjected, her brows furrowed in displeasure - though it was clear to who her censure was targeting. “He’s thrown things at her, made faces at her, and has, overall just been a general… ruffian!”
“He’s not a bad bunny,” the yellow-pelted pegasus weakly protested. “Besides, it doesn’t hurt. He’s just a tiny bunny.”
“That doesn’t matter!” Pinkie Pie spoke up in an inflated manner. “You should be glad he’s not from Caerbannog!”
“Caerbannog?” Rainbow Dash parroted in confusion.
“Bunnies from there have a vicious streak a mile wide!” the pink mare clarified, stretching her forelegs wide open for exaggerated emphasis.
“Caerbannog…” the lavender alicorn groaned, pressing her face into her hoof. Removing her hoof from her face and dropping it back to its primary place on the floor, her brows sank in disapproval. “Pinkie, that was just a movie!”
“Miss Fluttershy, I… I’m afraid that rabbit of yours is in need of some serious disciplining,” Smokey presumed, stirring the tomato sauce again. “I’m not really sure what kind would be best for him. Maybe just show him who the one in charge is. After all, you feed him, house him, fulfill all of his needs.”
“I’ve been putting my hoof down,” Fluttershy said defensively. “He doesn’t push me around as often.”
“Sweetie, he shouldn’t be pushing you around at all,” Rarity disputed.
“Yeah, Fluttershy,” Applejack called over as she was inserting screws into the holes of the door hinge, attaching it to the frame. “Are you a pet, or the pet master?”
“He’s a bunny!” Rainbow Dash snorted, her feathers ruffled with agitation. “You’re not gonna be pushed around by a bunny! Lay down the law and show him who’s boss!”
Fluttershy was met with the nonverbal gazes of support. Lips curling back into a smile, she nodded.
“Okay. I can do that. If he tries acting out again… Well… I’ll give him a stern talking to.”
“A stern talkin’ to ain’t gonna do it.” Applejack shook her head and discarded the screwdriver, believing that words were not going to be enough to correct Angel’s behavior. “You gotta give ‘im the what-for!”
The pale yellow pegasus was absolutely mortified at this. Furrowing her brows, she stamped her hoof into the floor… and winced, the realization that it was her injured one coming to her too late.
“I’m not hitting him.”
“Now Ah didn’ say y’had to beat the critter. Ah--”
“I’m. Not. Hitting him,” Fluttershy repeated with a dose of finality. “Physical violence never solved anything.”
“It’s not violence,” Applejack countered. “It’s discipline. Didn’t yer parents ever spank you as a filly?”
“I know mine did.” Rainbow Dash chuckled, reminiscing on a few occasions where she had caused trouble - the instances where she’d been caught by her parents and subsequently corrected. She had gotten into a lot of mischief as a filly - much more than her parents knew. More than fifty percent of that trouble being influenced by her childhood friend, a certain thrill-seeking and all-around bully of a griffon.
Smokey’s face sank even further at the mentioning of parents, a burden of sadness anchoring at his heart. A gooey bubbling drew him back to the pot of sauce. Stirring it, he turned down the heat and lathered the bottom of the pan with a thin layer.
Fluttershy thought she saw something with the dragon, but he had his back turned before she could confirm it. Though, she had an inkling of what was going through his head.
“I can’t say mine did,” said Twilight Sparkle. “Once, perhaps. I was a pretty well-behaved child.”
“Please. My parents NEVER resorted to such… barbaric measures,” Rarity sniffed.
“Uh, girls,” the rosy-maned equine spoke up quietly.
“C’mon now. Admit it! Ah bet that fancy flank of yers got plenty of welts in yer heyday.”
“I most certainly did not!” the royal purple-maned unicorn objected, though her voice was shaky.
“Girls!”
“Yes, Fluttershy?” came the unified response.
“… I don’t think we should really talk about parents.”
“Why not?” the lavender alicorn asked, the rest wearing similar quizzical expressions.
The yellow pegasus gulped, pointing her injured hoof in Smokey’s direction - though, as Chenoa was still playing nearby, it looked as if she was gesturing at her.
“Chenoa?” Applejack arched an eyebrow. “Fluttershy, She’s a baby. She probably don’t even remember who they ARE.”
“It’s not her.”
“Not…? Wait--” The words died in the farmer pony’s mouth the instant realization dawned. “… Oh… Ooh…”
From listening in on the conversation, the winged reptile was growing self-conscious. He could feel all of their eyes pinned to his back, making him feel even more uncomfortable.
“Er… Um… Do… don’t worry about me, ladies… Just… Just go back to your… um… your talking.”
The ponies went quiet, each of them exchanging glances. A moment elapsed, and Applejack took it upon herself to make the first move, the hallow clopping of hooves piercing the still silence with each step she made towards the kitchen. The sound halted the instant she stopped at Smokey’s side, and removed her hat as a sign of respect - and as a sign that she had a relatable situation.
“We’re sorry, sugarcube. We didn’t know.” She paused, pressing her hat into her chest. “… If it’s any consolation… Ah lost mah parents, too. Died shortly after mah baby sister was born. She never knew her Ma and Pa.”
The dragon was about to assure the earth pony that it was all right, when she revealed the fact that she, too, was parentless. He was filled with sympathy for her and her said sibling. Putting the wooden spoon down in the pot, he turned to Applejack, reaching to place a clawed hand on her shoulder for any sort of comfort he could give.
“I’m sorry,” was all he could think of. Comforting his animals was all he was practiced with. He had no experience in dealing with something like this, so he didn’t know what else to say.
Applejack smiled lightly, slipping her hat back on and closing in to reach a foreleg around his mid-section.
“It’s all right,” she reassured. “Ah was still a filly when they died, so… the pain doesn’t really hurt as bad. Ah still miss ‘em somthin’ fierce. … It’s really Apple Bloom that’s the sad story. She… never knew our parents. Not a day goes by that Ah don’t think of ‘em… or what our life could’ve been like if they… y’know…”
Smokey was surprised by the pony’s gesture. Accepting the hug, he bent over, sliding the hand on her shoulder around her neck to return it. He held it for a good amount of time before reluctantly drawing aback. He wanted to hold it longer and say something that might lighten up the mood, but lunch wasn’t going to make itself - nor did he even know what to say. Forcing a small smile, he nodded once and extended his clawed hand to the boxed ribbons of pasta.
Applejack felt similar, wanting to continue to console him, but noted that he went back to preoccupying himself.
“Ah see yer still busy. Ah’ll jus’ get back to fixin’ the doors an’ window. Jus’… know that yer not alone.”
Tearing the box open with a dull index claw, he grasped onto the ruffled edge of a slab of pasta and laid it down in the pan. Upon a moment of abeyance, he was silent, gathering up his sorrow and stowing it. Head turning halfway, he produced another feigned smile.
“I know… Thank you, Miss Applejack…”