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// Chapter 16 - Wind Dancer 
// Story: The Earth Ponies 
// by RomanCandle 
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	The walk down the mountain was significantly shorter than the walk up. What had been a mountain surrounded by an amber-toned forest had been reduced to a small walk over one hill and up another before they could see the Buffalo encampment again. It had only been a few minutes, not nearly enough for Half Note and her friends to breach the slew of questions that had come from the conversation with Zephyr.

The camp was quiet, only a few fires tended by even fewer Buffalo, and a handful sleeping along the tents. It was understandable - the Stampede was not easy on any body, even those used to it. 

Half Note had a pit in her stomach, worrying that she might have done something wrong in leaving the dance like she did. A few of the Buffalo raised their eyes to look at the trio as they walked in, but none of them spoke a word. A few nodded silent acknowledgement, but nothing more was given. Half Note felt her face get warm under her fur, despite the autumn breeze that rose to cool her. 

As they approached the tent decorated with beads and paintings and smelling of incense, Tornado Bolt fidgeted. 

"Do you think we could maybe just leave and all? I mean, we should probably be heading north ASAP, and it's not like we have anything super important to do here?"

Half Note shook her head. "Whatever we did and however bad it was, we need our stuff - it won't be a short journey and we'll probably need to get into a town for supplies at some point, and Firelock and I can't have ponies asking out our blank flanks - somepony will put two and two together and try to make us go home." Despite her words, she hadn't made any motion toward asking for permission to enter.

Firelock piped up into the silence. "Actually, there's - " She was cut off as the flap opened, knocking several hanging beads and baubles into her open mouth. She sputtered as Mourning Dew tilted her head at them.

"If you were hoping to leave quickly, perhaps you should have tried harder to do so quietly." She looked Half Note up and down with a critical eye before turning around and saying. "Nevertheless, if you wish to leave soon, you should collect your things." After only a moments hesitation, the three Ponies followed her into her thipi.

The first thing Half Note noticed was that the incense had changed. Gone were the thick, sweet spices that had pervaded throughout the summer. Instead there was a subtle crisp smokiness, not unlike the smell of fallen leaves. The next thing was their meager possessions left undisturbed where they had left them - the final was that they had a fourth pile keeping them company. She recognized the ceremonial clothing she had been covered in for the dance and swallowed nervously - she didn't remember taking them off.

Firelock shifted nervously and opened her mouth before Half Note blurted "I'm really, really sorry about all that, I didn't mean...It wasn't...I hope I didn't...I messed it all up, and I'm sorry."

Mourning Dew blinked at her - for the first time, the Shaman seemed genuinely confused. "...I don't understand. What are you sorry for?"

Half Note worked her mouth mutely for a moment before stuttering out "But..but I left in the middle of the dance, and probably left the ceremonial clothes in the dirt and then when I came back everything was put away and nobody was saying anything and - "

Mourning Dew chuckled. "Oh, child, I think you don't understand. The White Buffalo seldom invites anyone to join her on her journey - let alone three of our company. It is a blessing when she comes to join in the dance, and leaves a bitter taste should she not. It is a better omen than any of us could have imagined or hoped for. And we're not the only one's who have benefited, I see."

Firelock nodded vigorously. Half Note cocked her head. "I don't get it. What..."

"Your leaving was rare and confusing, yes, but once everyone understood what had happened it was a different matter. This winter is sure to be a good one - spring and summer too." The shaman smiled and shook her head. "What a shame - you said you should leave soon?"

Torando Bolt nodded. "Yeah, and we need the clothes so that nopony calls these two freaks or nothin."

Mourning Dew raised an eyebrow and Firelock glared at the Pegasus "Hey, you know, if you just - "

Half Note interrupted her. "She is right, though. We need to get going as soon as possible. I hope that doesn't cause any offense or anything?"

Mourning Dew nodded. "Of course. But the day is late and the night is young - will you at least stay for the commemorative feast? It is very nearly in your honor."

Half Note blushed. "Of course. I suppose it wouldn't hurt if we spent the night and started up again after a full nights sleep. How soon does the feast start, do you know?"

The shaman flared her nostrils and sniffed. How she could smell anything through her thipi and the incense was a mystery, but she responded. "Oh, smells like they're almost done at this point. Care to walk with me?"







Half Note picked at her food. While the brown mush they had eaten throughout the stampede was bland and uninteresting, at least it wasn't quite as confusing as what was before her now. Some kind of veiny leaves, spicy smelling sticks and this odd, dark blob. She prodded it - maybe a mushroom, or some kind of mold?

Mourning Dew and Thunderhooves had been taking turns addressing the tribe; while one spoke the other would eat. They had been speaking in the Bison tongue, which left the Ponies mostly out of the conversation. Despite their extended time with the Buffalo, they had only managed to pick out a few words. Half Note was able to recognize mentions of the Stampede and the bravery and endurance of the tribe, but any sort of meaning she had to piece together herself.

Firelock leaned toward the Earth Pony conspiratorially. "Hey, I know this probably isn't the best time, but at this rate you're never gonna notice. When you were up on the hill, dancing with Zephyr, you kind of got - "

Tornado Bolt shushed her, earning herself a frumpy face. "They switched to Common Equestrian, which means that we should be listening!"

Half Note nodded and switched her attention to the elders. Both had stopped eating, at least for the moment, and though she missed the introductory parts they hadn't gotten so deep that she was completely lost.

"...these three Ponies who held their own against the trials of the Stampede, despite not being raised with it in their blood. They have graced us with good fortune from the Second and Only Sister not seen in generations. They have earned their names by our rights - let us welcome them properly."

Thunderhooves took over. "Bison! What say you to these three Ponies?"

The same stomping of hooves and wordless shout that had accompanied the start of the Stampede was given to them. Mourning Dew took the lead again.

"Stand, Firelock Summertouched - who showed us the fire that resides in your heart!"

The Unicorn blushed and rose, more fire in her face than one would guess was in her heart at the moment as the applause was seconded.

"Rise, Tornado Bolt Stormwing - who brought the wind beneath her wings which fed such fire!"

Tornado Bolt showed no such reserve, leaping into a hover and thrusting out her chest proudly to the percussion of cloven hooves. The Shaman turned and grinned at the Earth Pony left sitting before she concluded.

"Step forward, Half Note Winddancer - May the Sister always guide your hooves!"

The tribe roared in approval, and Half Note felt her cheeks go red. She had thought the silence from earlier was out of reproach - but the reaction she was receiving here led her to believe that it was more out of respect than anything else. The applause went on and on uninterrupted until she had to relieve herself with a chuckle.

"Well, you were right - having a Second Name does sound pretty awesome. Now, if I could get my Cutie Mark and stop worrying about Ponies catching us because of it, that'd be great."

Firelock stared at her a moment, then nearly impaled her own hoof on her horn. "That's what I've been trying to tell you all night. Look at your butt, you dummy."

Half Note took a moment to register that - then looked at her flank, where a series of lines and swirls the color of her mane were adorned with three musical notes - like a gust of wind with a song on it.

"Oh."